"Aunt, I declare you have been mending stockings, but I mean to hide that stocking-basket out of your sight; and now you are to make yourself comfortable in your easy-chair while I pour out the tea."

Mrs. Halford smiled, but she submitted quietly to her niece's injunctions, gave up the stocking which she took from her pa.s.sive hand, and then drew her aunt's chair nearer to the table.

Happy as they appeared, Mrs. Halford could scarcely, even after the lapse of ten years, repress a sigh as she saw her niece take her absent daughter's place.

Perhaps she felt thankful at not being able to trace a likeness in her brother's daughter to her own f.a.n.n.y, who in features, eyes, and hair so much resembled herself. But in truth Kate Marston was a great comfort to her aunt and uncle. Plain and homely, with a fair skin and rosy cheeks that betokened her north-country origin, she was yet active, methodical, and industrious--a daughter in loving attention to her aunt and uncle, and at all times good-tempered and cheerful.

"Uncle," she said presently, "you need not hide your letter, I saw the postman give you one this afternoon."

Mrs. Halford looked up quickly. "Is it from Dr. Mason?" she asked.

"Well, yes, it is," he replied. "I wanted to wait till we had finished tea, but Katey is impatient, so I suppose I must read it at once."

"Yes, uncle, of course you must; I saw the postmark when you took it in, so no wonder I am impatient."

We also need not wonder, for the orphan daughter of Mrs. Halford's only brother had no hopes or interests beyond those of Englefield Grange; and although she had long pa.s.sed the ominous age of thirty she had no thought of marriage.

Dr. Halford took the letter from his pocket, and not even the mother's eyes could be brighter with interest as she listened while her husband read than those of Kate Marston. And this is what Dr. Mason wrote respecting the dearly loved son and cousin:--

"MY DEAR SIR,--When you requested me to send you my opinion respecting the abilities and character of your son Henry at the end of one month, I feared it would be too soon to enable me to form a correct judgment.

"I might, however, have done so safely, for as I found him during the first month he still continues; to even a superficial observer his character and tendencies are plainly distinguishable. I never met with a youth less reticent or more transparent,--too much so indeed for contact with the world; he is fearless of consequences, and careless of concealment.

"I have been led to form this opinion from mere trifling matters which have come under my notice. A want of order and neatness, and a reckless disregard to rules, have made him break them openly, and as if unconscious that by so doing he was deserving of blame. I am inclined to think that Master Henry's mamma and cousin are answerable for all this, for the boy acts as if he had been accustomed to be waited upon hand and foot.

"He has a high proud spirit which will brook no insult; yet, quick as he is to resent, he is equally quick to forgive, and when he has given offence by a hasty or unjust remark he is ready to acknowledge it and to apologise in a moment. He is warm-hearted and generous to a fault, and a great favourite with some of my best pupils, all older than himself.

"Perhaps one great cause for this may arise from their admiration of his talents. My dear friend, you did not prepare me for such a genius as your boy. You have, no doubt, instructed him well, but there is in him a natural love for the acquirement of knowledge for its own sake, and indeed talents, which if cultivated will one day make of him a great man.

"Do not hesitate to send him to the university; and if he still wishes to become a clergyman, encourage him by all means to work for that end.

"The power over his own language which he displays in his translations of the Greek and Latin poets is wonderful in a youth of his age. He never seems at a loss for a word to express the true meaning of the original, and his English themes are superior in many respects to those of my oldest pupils.

"The style wants training and pruning, like a plant of luxurious growth, till it reaches perfection and beauty. Time and experience will do this, and I have no fear for the result.

"In mathematical studies, however, he is rather deficient, but for these he appears to have no predilection. I shall not allow him to give them up entirely, although I have no hopes of making him a mathematician. My epistle is extending itself beyond all reasonable limits, but I was most anxious to give you my candid opinion of your son's character and abilities, and I trust I have complied with your request in a satisfactory manner.

"With kind regards to Mrs. Halford and your niece, believe me to be

"Most faithfully yours,

"M. MASON."

CHAPTER IX.

LOOKING BACK.

A few miles from Meadow Farm, the birthplace of Edward Armstrong, stood a n.o.bleman's mansion, which in spite of modern alterations and adornments, gave numerous proofs of its antiquity. The building formed three sides of a square, the fourth enclosed by iron railings and a curiously carved gate, gilded escutcheons and coats of arms forming its chief ornaments. The house stood on the brow of a hill, looking across the town of Basingstoke, which lay beneath it at a distance of a few miles.

A streamlet, issuing in little rills from springs on the summit of the ascent, fell in tiny cascades through woody glens and artificial grottoes till it approached the house. Here it formed a miniature lake on which the majestic swans sailed in stately pride. Continuing its course, it pa.s.sed under a rustic bridge, a limpid stream, in which the speckled trout sported, fearless of the angler's line, beneath the shadow of lofty elms or gracefully bending willows.

Within, the house was equally attractive. A large hall occupied the centre of the building, its lofty dimensions reaching to the roof, and lighted by tall narrow windows which faced the entrance gates. From this hall, doors and a n.o.ble staircase led to other apartments, the dining-room and drawing-room occupying a similar s.p.a.ce at the back. In the former room, a few days after the marriage of Arthur Franklyn to f.a.n.n.y Halford, a family party were a.s.sembled at breakfast. From a deep oriel window, with its lattice and diamond panes open to the sweet perfumed air of spring, could be seen, not only gardens, shrubberies, and a richly wooded park, but a distant prospect of hill and valley, field and meadow, equalled, no doubt, but not often surpa.s.sed in our fertile island.

The furniture of the room, though suited to its antique architecture, wore an appearance of brightness which the light though simple morning attire of some of its occupants greatly increased.

The party consisted of three ladies, a gentleman in the prime of life, and a youth of sixteen. The eldest of the ladies, though pale and delicate, appeared almost too youthful to be the mother of the two girls of seventeen and nineteen who sat at the table by her side.

The younger of them had the _Times_ newspaper in her hand, and appeared to be deeply engaged in examining its first column. The elder presided at the breakfast-table.

"Well, Dora," said her father, "what have you found in the paper interesting enough to make you oblivious to the fact that your breakfast is getting cold?"

"Why, papa," she replied, laughing, "I am not particularly interested, but puzzled with the advertis.e.m.e.nt of a wedding. The house of the bride's father has the same name as ours,--at least, not exactly; but listen, papa.

"'On the 6th instant, at the parish church, Kilburn, Arthur Leigh Franklyn, Esq., solicitor, of Clement's Inn, London, and Brook House, Clapton, to Frances Clara, only daughter of Dr. Halford, Englefield Grange, Kilburn.'"

"Halford's daughter married!" exclaimed the earl, for such he was; "truly indeed time flies: it seems but the other day that he and I were travelling together on the Continent, and studying men and manners."

"Oh, papa, I remember now. Dr. Halford was your tutor. I thought I had heard the name; but how came his house to be called Englefield Grange?"

"A liberty rather, I should say," remarked the young heir to the t.i.tle and estate, Lord Robert, Viscount Woodville.

"My _friend_ James Halford," said Earl Rivers, with a stress upon the word, "intended it as a compliment, Robert, yet he waited for my father's permission before he named his house Englefield Grange. My conscience smites me for having neglected him so long. I must pay them a visit this season while we are in London."

"I have heard your mother speak of Dr. Halford," said Lady Rivers; "did he not marry your sister's governess?"

"Yes, Clara Marston. Why, it must be two or three and twenty years ago.

They lived at Bayswater for some time after their marriage, but I have seen nothing of them since they removed to Kilburn."

"And this daughter, papa," said Lady Dora, "did you ever see her?"

"Well, my dear, I have some recollection of a little dark-eyed girl named f.a.n.n.y, to whom I was introduced in one of my visits at Bayswater.

She was then, I should say, about eight years old, and the Halfords have resided nearly eleven years at Kilburn."

"If the little girl was named f.a.n.n.y, papa, she must be the same who has just married, for the name in the paper is Frances. Oh yes," added Lady Dora, after another glance at the _Times_, "and it says only daughter, so this must be the bride."

"You appear greatly interested in this young married lady, my dear,"

said her father.

Lady Dora blushed. Her interest was only that of girls of seventeen in all ranks of society about brides in general, and one in particular if her age, parentage, and antecedents are known. "I think I am interested now," replied the young lady, "because you knew the bride when she was a little girl, and her father was your tutor; but the name of Englefield first attracted me in the newspaper. Papa," she continued after a slight pause, during which no one spoke, "Englefield is a strange t.i.tle for any house, especially such a beautiful estate as this. Do you know how it originated?"

"From nothing very mysterious or romantic," said her father, laughing,--"at least, none that I ever heard of. According to the etymology of the word, however, we ought to be descended from the gipsies, for Engle is evidently derived from the old Saxon word Ingle, which signifies a hearth or chimney corner. Ingle or Engle in a field, as the name of this estate implies, must denote a cosy, homelike fireplace, in a meadow or on a common, such as only gipsies can invent.

But you must decide upon this matter yourself, Dora," continued the earl, as he rose and looked at his watch; "I have no time for farther discussion upon the origin of a name which belonged to this estate more than four hundred years ago."

"How very absurd you are, Dora!" said her elder sister, when the earl had left the room, "just as if it mattered to us what originated the name of an estate which has descended to papa through so many generations. And why you should be interested about the marriage of a schoolmaster's daughter I cannot imagine."