CHAPTER XV.

SECRETS OF THE STUDY.

but for the surrounding crowd. Was it possible that under this fair exterior there could lurk the knowledge that her father had been paltering so long with his hopes, and robbing him of that ROBERT was not in the habit of intentionally time which was life? When Sara came into consulting his pillow. When in need of advice, he the room, he met her with a brighter, franker betook himself to the silent stars, as they were look than she had seen him wear in London; but seen from lonely roads or deserted streets, and on observing hers, it changed into one of sur- reached home sufficiently jaded in body to have prise and grief. She was pale and inanimate; some chance of rest. On the present occasion it and the hand he had taken in the old friendly was well on to the dawn before he let himself in way felt cold and dead. Both her uncle and with his noiseless key, and glided to his solitary aunt observed the change with alarm; but she room; but although he had walked a very conanswered their inquiry in the stereotyped form. siderable number of miles since parting from his Only a little headache.' How often the heart Wearyfoot friends, the pillow was still importulays its grief upon the head! Their love, how-nate it would hear, from beginning to end, ever, was not to be deceived. The business of what the stars had said, and it had its own sug the day, and the excitement of the evening, had gestions and counsels to offer without number. been too much for her; they were sure she was Worn out at length, the adventurer did enjoy an seriously unwell; and she must at once go to hour's sleep; and then the thousand sounds of a bed. Robert joined in the entreaty; and although London morning awoke him to the toils and attempting to smile at their fears, she complied, heart-strivings of a new day. and was doubtless glad to do so. Upon this he His resolution, however, was taken. The reabandoned his intention of staying supper, al-view he had made of his London life was more though Molly was now bringing in the tray; and unsatisfactory than ever; and he looked with dispressing the dead hand once more in his, he instantly left the house.

เ

may at the gulf there was now between him and the buoyant, high-spirited aspirant of the world who had presented himself, for the first time, in Driftwood's studio. He could not conceal from himself that his independence and self-reliance had already received damage. that he was fast sinking into the mere conventional man, who circles in his own small orbit, and when unsuccessful there, drops and perishes, as if there was no other space for life or death in the universe. If the new caprice of Claudia - for both stars and pillow had now advised him to distrust her

'Sara,' said the captain, as she was retiring, 'you will be glad to hear what I have to tell you, and will sleep the better for it: it is all true what Molly here has heard about poor Bob. I have it on his own authority, although he did not know exactly how it was to turn out. But that prodigiously fine girl we saw on the stair is one of those who are interested in the result; and it was easy to see from the knowing glance she gave him, and the bright look of her face, that things are going on well, although she had no was to pass away like the others, in what poopportunity to give him the news. Bob himself, sition would he find himself? Precisely where you must have observed, was satisfied of this, for he was when he scanned for the first time the that sunshiny look made a new man of him. He windows of the metropolis, to seek out in them returned to his own Wearyfoot self the moment the clue to some mechanical calling, in which he their hands met; and it was only your illness, might live for the present and prepare himself Sara, that struck the brightness from his eye. for a higher effort. This must have an endNow, good-night, darling; sleep soundly, and be and here. He would, that very day, bring Sir quite well to see Bob when he comes in the Vivian Falcontower to an explanation; and, morning.-Hey, Molly, what is the matter with strange as his absence might appear to the Semyou? Set down the things, girl, and don't stand ple family, he would delay for some hours seeing staring with your great eyes after Miss Sara, as them till the crisis of his fate was past. It was if she was a phenomenon. Have you heard any-impossible, however, to commence the business thing more about it?'

of the day before ascertaining how Sara was; and at an early hour he took his way to the lodgings in Great Russell Street.

Molly was already astir; but when he obtained speech of her, he found her as crusty as the baker's loaves. Miss Sara, she said, had rested very well; why shouldn't she-there was nothing on her conscience, she hoped. How was her headache? Oh, the headache was very well too — at least it would be when she rung her bell; how could she tell before then? A heartache might be another thing; but a headache was nothing, if people would only let it alone, and not dose other people with Miss Heavystoke's mixtures, that made them not know the taste of their own mouths for a month.

the forenoon as possible: before then, I have to get through some important business;" and he turned away with an air so proud yet so desolate, that Molly was sorry for her crustiness, but afraid to call him back, and so she stood looking after him with her great round eyes till he passed out of sight.

Sir Vivian, he knew, was not to be seen till eleven at the earliest; and to pass the time, he called, when the morning was further advanced, at the studio in Jermyn Street. Driftwood, he thought, received him somewhat stiffly, and apologized more loftily than usual for the absence of his boy. The artist, however, was getting on swimmingly in the guinea-portrait speculation, and was even now expecting a sitter.

"I should owe you something for that idea," said he, "had you not balanced the account by depriving me of the countenance of Sir Vivian Falcontower."

"I deprive you of the countenance of Sir Vivian!"

"To be sure. I thought to do you good by mentioning your expectations; and now, when the game is all up, he turns round upon me as if I had tried to swindle him."

"Mr. Driftwood," said Robert seriously, "I don't understand you; I beg you to explain yourself."

"Why, that's just what I can't do. I dare say you might, after all, be only amusing yourself with Margery; but she took it all seriously, and said so much to me about the flourishing fellow you were going to turn out, that I couldn't help putting in my spoke to give you a hitch on. Did you not observe what a high mightiness they made of you at the ball? and yet I danced three times more than you, not to talk of the manner of dancing and most of them had seen my Robin Hood!" and he pointed grandly to a facsimile of the sign, laid upon canvas in the true out-of-doors style.

"And so," said Robert, "out of some sanguine expressions of poor Margery-based, perhaps, upon hints I was unconscious of myself -you constructed one of your miserable daubs, and tried to palm it upon Sir Vivian for a true picture!"

Keep your temper, Oaklands; you don't know pictures yet -you were too short a time under me. The world will one day do justice to my daubs; and in that day the price of my Holy Family, two pound twelve, will be written with the pound after the figures!"

Forgive me, Driftwood, I did not mean to hurt your feelings; but I am vexed, maddened, and hardly know what I say."

"Well, well, my boy, you will come to know high art in time. But let me just give you a hint for your own good, not to be coming the grandee over us again. You have an enemy, can tell you, who follows in your track, and paints it all out. His name is Seacole."

"Seacole!"

"Yes; he is hand-in-glove with Sir Vivian and his daughter. He is going to marry the young lady, and won't stand your having any expectations whatever."

"From whom did you hear this?"

"From Mr. Slopper, one of Sir Vivian's household; and he had it from Mr. Poringer, Mr. Seacole's individual.”

"I thank you. It is important information; so conclusive, indeed, that I would not take the trouble of going now to Sir Vivian — only it must not be said that I have an enemy without confronting and defying him."

"Take care, take care, my boy! Small people don't get on in this world by defying great."

"Because small people have not the manliness to be true to themselves; I am one of the forlorn-hope." Here the bell rung.

"That rascally boy!" cried Driftwood · "never mind, I must just open myself." Robert was sorry he had waited, when in a minute or two the artist returned, ushering in the same young lady who had paid him such marked attentions at Mrs. Doubleback's party. On seeing him she gave a pretty little scream:

"You naughty man," said she; "how you did frighten me! Who could have expected to meet you here on this particular spot of all the habitable globe? Isn't it strange? I declare I don't understand it-it seems like a dream, or like something that happens in a novel. I am quite nervous."

"I should not guess that from your fresh and wholesome looks."

"Ah, there you are again! Do you talk so to all the poor girls whom destiny throws in your way? Do you think I have forgotten what you said to me at the ball? I only hope that great clumsy Miss Doubleback did not overhear it, for her eyes were fixed on us as if she was thinking -I wonder what she was thinking! Heigh-ho!" and the young lady sighed.

"Miss Bloomley," said the artist, "I have just now been thinking, and pondering, and now I have got hold of it. I remember clearly that I did tell you my friend Mr. Oaklands was here

almost every

Tush! who cares what you think or tell? For my part, I never listen to a word you say?'

And that if you came to have your portrait taken, you would'

'Fiddle, faddle! Why don't you set to work then, now I am here, instead of calling to mind your saving things that nobody ever heard a word of?

I beg pardon, miss; I only thought you would be glad to have the mistake cleared up. I am sure Mr. Oaklands considers himself in great luck to be in the way to see you. Don't you, Oaklands?

Yes, I do,' replied Robert, for I want to explain to Miss Bloomley that you, who talk so boldly of other people's mistakes, are very apt to be mistaken yourself. Mr. Driftwood has doubtless told you of certain expectations he assumed Ime to have, and has given you to understand that one of these days I shall be quite a great rich personage. Now, our friend did not intend to deceive, but merely suffered his imaginationand no doubt, his good-nature-to run away with him. There is not one word of truth, however, in the story. I am a mere adventurer on the world, without family, without a surplus shilling in my pocket, and without the prospect

of one that is not earned by my own industry.' The books, the paper, the pen and ink, were Miss Bloomley, when he began to speak, looked scrupulously arranged; the chair was set for him at him with great wondering eyes, that seemed to at the proper angle; the fire was chastened so as dilate as he went on, the color at the same time to produce a summer warmth; the curtain was mounting into her face; and by the time he con- tutored into the admission of just light enough cluded, her cheeks were red-hot, and her eyes full for convenience, and not a ray for glare. Not of tears that glistened without falling. The that all this was done at once. Claudia was Londoners, high and low, are remarkable for prodigiously clever; but she could not work generous feeling, and this young lady was a true miracles. She shifted the things again and Londoner. again before she got them into their proper

:

'You are greater than he told,' said she, with a places; then she looked at the pendule on the quivering voice-'you have the spirit of a man-mantel-piece; then she stepped lightly again to and that's better than being a nobleman!' Rob- the table, but this time it was only a trifle that ert bade her good-by with a smile and a pressure was wanted one of the pens had somehow got of the hand, which she returned with a good, a little across another (an unlucky position), hearty, natural, unsentimental shake. and she placed them side by side. At length Robert walked straight to the mansion of Sir there was heard a knock at the street-door. It Vivian Falcontower, pondering as he went, on was distant and indistinct, but she knew it well; the seeming fatuity that had thrown him into and straightway, as if conjured by the sound, the power of his school enemy. He had ousted she subsided-not suddenly, or in a flurry-but this enemy, by means of a timely warning, from softly, smoothly, naturally, into the cold but the good graces of Sara; and now Seacole, in graceful impassibility of her usual self. She did turn, and by similar means though different in not even look towards the door of the room; character, had deprived him of the patronage of but nevertheless she knew, without turning her Claudia. But how stood the account? Altho' eyes, that it opened on its noiseless hinges, and he had, perhaps, saved Sara from an uncongenial that her father entered-alone. marriage, he had appropriated her affections himself, and they must now be unwound from their object, if they were her very heart-strings; he had prevented Seacole from entering into a union for which he, as well as his bride, was unfit, and by so doing, had preserved him for an alliance the most flattering imaginable to his vanity and ambition; and having thus played his part in the world, the vagrant of the Common was now to subside into his original obscurity. These meditations were still in progress, even while he was asking the question mechanically: "Is Sir Vivian at home?" but they were brought to an abrupt conclusion by the reply: "Not at home, sir.""

Sir Vivian took the chair that had been prepared for another, and Claudia sat down in her usual place at the table, opposite to him, and with her back to the window.

"Mr. Oaklands, said her father, "was not here yesterday, and for some days he has not seemed to relish his work as usual. This shows that we approach the end."

"He was here this morning-now," remarked Claudia quietly. "I heard his knock."

"True. I ordered them to say not at home, for before we see him again I want to talk to you. I think I have detected the young fellow in a stratagem, and, clever as he undoubtedly is, he must not be allowed to suppose he has got the whip-hand of us. You remember that romantic story of Driftwood's I mentioned? Well, it turns out to be all false: the only mystery connected with the young man relates to the parish he has a claim upon. He is the natural son, it seems, of some low woman-a menial servant, I think-and an impoverished halfpay captain.

"From whom had you this?" demanded Claudia, almost sternly.

"From Mr. Seacole."
"Oh!"

Only a few minutes before, this consummation could not have been looked for by one who was privileged-as the reader is to behold, invisible himself, the secrets of the study. The study was a smaller apartment opening from the bookroom, or library; and here Claudia awaited the coming of that insolent young man who had of late thrust himself so much into her thoughts, and given rise to so many outbreaks of a usually equable, or at least manageable temper. On this occasion, the sun, not the lightning, was playing on her face. She seemed to be full of memories of the evening before-with its music, its smiles, its gems, its grandeur; and of the last scene more especially in which she herself had performed, descending the stairs in queenly state, and amid the homage of the obsequious crowd, yielding her soft hand, heroine-like, to the warm, manly clasp of the hero of the moment. It was "To be sure I have. My promise binds you an interesting picture for one who, like Claudia, to nothing; and if the worst comes to the worst had an eye for art; but it would be too curious-for you know, Claudia, this cannot go on much to inquire how much of the vanity of the woman longer-Seacole is a likely young fellow enough, mingled with the admiration of the connois- of an ancient family, and with a competent

seur.

"Why do you say "Oh!" so contemptuously? I want to talk to you about Seacole too: he has formally craved my permission to pay his addresses to you, and besought my influence in favor of his suit."

"And you have promised it?"

estate."

At all events it was clear that she indulged in "Well, well, let us get through one subject at some friendly feeling towards the actor who had a time. I saw the two only once together, and supported her so well. The table was prepared paid no special attention to them; but now I for him with more than the care of a secretary. I can recall the look that passed between them,

and I venture to say that Mr. Seacole and Mr. and so is the woman, who gets her living by Oaklands are enemies."

"And what of that ?"

Only that the information you may receive from one concerning the other is not to be looked upon as exactly above suspicion."

66

washing, or something of that sort. Large family there too-the Boy and all, for of course he lives with his mother. Driftwood, a painter, in Jermyn Street, is to be pitied among them, for he can't disown his cousins."

"Then Driftwood is related to them."

"Yes, sir; all the rest, I believe, is the lower classes-and he ain't much to speak of. The woman Oaklands lives in Hartwell Place, Kensignton Gravel Pits: last door in the row, no thoroughfare, market gardens in front." This being all the evidence he could give. Mr. Poringer was dismissed.

Certainly not, if there was any motive for misrepresentation. The two individuals in question, however, cannot be supposed to clash in any way. Seacole, in fact, knows very little of the history of Oaklands; for although they were brought up in the same neighborhood, their rank was too different to admit of free intercourse till they met again at school. He refers me to his servant, who served at the time in the very house "You see, Claudia," said Sir_Vivian," the where the boy was taken to live with his reputed scheme was better got even than I supposed. I father, and I expect the man every instant." really did not give Driftwood credit for so much While he still spoke, there was a tap at the room-nous; and as for Oaklands, why, he is quite a door, and permission being given, Mr. Poringer master. To think of a young fellow like him walked slowly and sedately in, and coming to a halt near the table, drew himself up, and stood there tall and still, looking very like a figure carved in wood by somebody who had forgotten the joints and did not know how to round off the corners.

"I have sent for you," said sir Vivian, "to ask you a few questions respecting an individual in whom I feel an interest. His name is Robert Oaklands-do you know anything of his origin?"

แ

"He originated, sir, in Wearyfoot Common, where he found me one evening in the mist." "You mean that you found him, I presume?" No, sir, I would not find a boy on no account: I have an objection to it, I have. He found me, sir, and followed me home to Semple Lodge."

mained, and Captain Semple brought him up like one of the family."

hanging on here so long, dressing and behaving like a gentleman, meeting in society some of the first persons in the kingdom, and concealing the whole time, with a fortitude quite heroical, that at home he burrowed among countless relations, watching hungrily and eagerly the result of his enterprise!"

"To be silent when no questions are asked," said Claudia, whose face was flushed, as if from sitting too near the fire, "is not concealment."

"But perhaps," went on her father," the young fellow is wiser still in his generation. There being no ties of legitimacy to bind him to his family, it may have been his intention-the thing is not uncommon in the world-to cling to his relatives only till he could do without, and then, when he had reached the mark of his ambition, to withdraw quietly from a circle that ""No!-there you are mistaken," cried ClauThe boy merely re-dia, rising suddenly from her chair; "he had no intention of the kind! You do not know the man as I do; you have not watched him, day after day, with doubt and wonder on your mind giving place at last to settled conviction. When the time came, and his fortune was established, he would have insisted upon bringing his brothers and sisters into this room; he would have taken his frail mother to court if it were possible; he would have stood up for and by them; and if hissed, hooted, and pelted out of society, he would have retreated backwards-backwards -shielding them from harm, and with his proud eyes fixed upon his pursuers!"

"Was there no inquiry made about the boy's parentage-no information given to the parish

officers ?"

"No, sir; there was nothing said to nobody. The rector, and several of the ladies about the Common, made some inquiry at first, but they heard nothing that pleased them; and so, since things could not be helped, they said nothing more about it."

"Why was he called Oaklands?"

"That was the name of the-the-woman in the kitchen, whom the boy stated to be his mother, and who never denied it."

"And the other name-Robert ?"
"Bob, sir, Bob was his other name."

"Was that the name of Captain Semple?"
"No, sir; I did not approve of his getting the
captain's name-it was bad enough without that.
I considered that he had no call to more than
Bob, Bob being almost Boy-no name at all to
speak of."

"What has become of Captain Semple and his establishment?"

"Claudia! is this acting?

"Why, would it not be a sight to see! The squat, lean, vulgar children, stumbling along, well fed and well dressed-the coarse, red-armed, gin-drinking washerwoman, flaunting in silks and satins, and bobbing her awkward courtesiesand all hanging upon the neck and entangling the feet of the son and brother, the man of genius, the elegant scholar and accomplished gentleman!"

"All that is true, Claudia; but you sketch so vividly, you startle me. What is it to you, what is it to us, that this should be so? You seem, notwithstanding your ridicule, to pity the young man?"

"The captain, sir, was ruinated by the failure of his agent, and by his sister and niece coming upon his hands; his brother was a poor man, sir, with a large family of course, as poor men al- "Just as I pity the naturally lame, blind, or ways has. I hear they are all in town now, sir; humpbacked: low connections are for one con

CHAPTER XVI.

THE OLD LOVE AND THE NEW.

stituted like him a still worse calamity. But, settle with him how you may, remember we must now have done with him; yes, papa, done with him-done with him-done with him! Why, I should not wonder if some of the ragged crew were at the door of the theatre last night, and saw me, surrounded by half the nobility in town, stop to shake hands with him as if he was a prince! And the other day at the Royal Academy, is it not more than probable that among the crowd at the steps was the washerwoman herself, gazing at Claudia Falcontower leaning on the arm of her son? the washerwoman-think of that-smoking from the suds, steaming with gin! is it not rich-Ha, ha!" and she laughed, ab-tiently the slow course of events. Patiently! solutely laughed, perhaps for the first time since she was a girl! The sound was musical, as clear as a bell, but nevertheless it shocked Sir Vivian, and he looked at his daughter with wonder and dismay.

Another tap at the door; and it was scarcely replied to when a servant entered hastily, and presented a letter to Sir Vivian. The baronet looked at it for some moments, as if unwilling to remove it from the curious antique salver on which it lay; but at length he took it up slowly, and the man left the room.

"A telegraphic despatch, Claudia," said he, lingering on the syllables" and from Luxton Castle." He opened it with some nervousness, and then dropping the paper upon the table. covered his eyes with his hands. Claudia sank into her chair, and fixed a long, blank look upon her father, while the flush forsook her face, which grew gradually as white and rigid as marble. As gradually the rigidity softened, although the pallor remained, and some natural tears rolled, one by one, from her before dry and glistening eyes.

My poor uncle!" said she; and she gazed mournfully upon Sir Vivian, forgetting to wipe the moisture from her eyes.

A dead silence ensued; which was at length broken by Claudia, who spoke more in the tone of soliloquy than as if addressing her father.

THE next morning Robert called again on Sir Vivian Falcontower. Lord Luxton he was told was dead; the family had left town, and might be absent for some time: there was no letter or message for him. The crisis was then past. His fantastic speculation had failed; the fascinating smile of Claudia was nothing more than an ignis-fatuus; and her father was a-a right honorable. He must now be once more a hand-worker; stealing from the night sufficient time for the labor of the brain, and awaiting paRobert was no philosopher, and no hero. With one half of what he had been virtually promised, and by Sir Vivian's own admission had fairly earned, Sara might have been his! She loved him-this he devoutly believed, for in her noble nature there was no guile and no faltering; she would even consent to descend from her position to his, battle by his side with a courage as high as his own, and more hopeful, and waste her young and promising life in an obscure struggle for the means of subsistence. He knew now the strength of his hopes by the wrench with which they parted from his heart. The dream he had indulged during his compact with Sir Vivian, dim and indefinite at the time, was now seen distinctly for a moment-like a sinking ship revealed by lightning-before it disappeared for ever; and when it was gone, the world seemed to have passed away, and he felt as if standing alone in the immensity of space.

Misty-misty-misty was the Common through which he wandered as he turned away from Sir Vivian's door. There were voices around, but they had no articulate sound for him; figures glided past, but they were shadows, without form and void; the rain beat once more on his uncovered head, and the pools of Wearyfoot plashed beneath his feet; but the only tears that now blinded his eyes were large drops of sweat that had rolled over his cold brow.

While Robert was pursuing his metaphorical journey, making his way to Great Russell Street as long as possible, that he might have time to recover from the shock he had received, the family were waiting his arrival to get his escort to some more of the sights of London. Elizaheth was in her own room. The captain and Sara were in the parlor, the former employed in spelling through the morning newspaper in his usual straightforward way, and now in the midst of the deaths.

"And this is life," said she, "this is the world! Go where we will, do what we may, dig, delve, soar, it is all one: in a few years comes the end -and the end is death! What is the use of our care, our labor, our sacrifices? Of what consequence are the inequalities of fortune that are presently to be shovelled down to a level by the sexton's spade? The grandeur we admire is but the nodding plume of the hearse; the ensign of nobility is only the hatchment on the wall; all we love and loathe are linked inseparably together: the smile of the lip, the grin of the skull "I declare," cried he, "here is Lord Luxton -beauty and delight, corruption and horror-dead! That is the brother of Sir Vivian Falpride and ambition, dust and ashes!" Her arms contower, and one of Bob's friends. I wonder fell lifeless by her sides, her head drooped upon if he has left him anything-no, not a penny, I'll her bosom; and the beautiful Claudia looked almost ghastly in her sudden desolation.

"Don't give way," said Sir Vivian, recovering; "our grief is of no use to the dead; so let us look at the bright rather than the dark side of things. Remember, Claudia, you are now the Honorable Miss Falcontower. and I am Lord Luxton!"

be sworn. Do you know Sara-talking of that -I was quite grieved the other day to see you come out of the shop with Elizabeth, so happy, so fresh, so rich looking; you had been buying the handsome what-d' ye-call-ems for your hair, and I assure you it quite made my heart ache: no easy matter to do. you know, for the heart of an old soldier grows into cast iron."