The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-04-03 00:00:00

[ALL RIGHTS REMIVED.]
THE HEIRESS

ATHERSTONE GRANGE.

IIY THE AUTHOR OF
"Allan Thornton," "Effie Baird," " Alinost a
Criminal," " Leonora's Legaq," J-c.

CHAPTER IV.
MISS AURORA MONTEITH.
And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth;

4, And that was shining on hirn.—BynoN.
laßitsfra, be the deuce and all to play when Leonard
rts home," soliloquised Bruce Carnaby to himselfrid ;
yet it's a great relief to my mind."
la spite of his railling of his friend about the fair
-1,11, there had been a heart-ache under his lightly-
ken words. He knew of the unspoken arrangement
t,tWeen Sir James Bickerstaff and Mr. Atherstone,
t.at their children should marry some day; and, during
l'!Present season, when they had met frequently in
;7don, he had begun to think that the pretty heiress
fS the woman of all others he should like to have
a Wife himself. "Not that they would give her
a Poor devil like me, while Leonard is in the way,"
'a soliloquised. But now it seemed that Leonard was
°klxt of the way, and he was fair to woo. Many a
'right look from Flora's bright eyes told him that he
1:1341d not have to woo in vain, and he knew she was
1,11 idolised daughter and a spirited young lady to
so he just saw a little hope for the future.
Atherstone was seriously offended with his son
f hen he found that matters had not progressed any
tirther with Miss Bickerstaff, and accused him of not
Ilre3eing the young lady sufficiently.
It's time you spoke out," he said to him. "There's
Irt need for any shilly-shally on the subject. The girl
„‘e,s you, you like her, her father is agreeable,
,11101 there's nothing in the way of money to stand in
'e Way."
am awate of all that., sir."
Then why the deuce don't you speak out ?" en-
'red the old gentleman, irascibly. "When I was a
L°tlng fellow there was none of this playing fast and
with a girl; when a marriage was settled by a
44,,111,11ng man's parents, as the best thing for him, he
the lady's hand in a proper manner, and
th . young
e thing was done."
"BUt you have not settled this marriage for me, sir;
141 excuse me if I say that something more than
I;inlitual wishes on the part of the fathers is necessary
etvro
°W-n-days. Young people have wishes of their

"And deucedly impertinent tongues as well.
°llsense ! The thing's settled, I tell you. You like
Other?"
"Like? Yes. But something more is wanted. I
'c'not love Miss Bickerstaff as a man should love his
Wife!,

Iplso.ve ! Bah ! Nonsense! Love is all very well in novels.
:8 not wanted in real life. Your mother and I got
",11 Very well without love, and all that sentimental
alekliness."
..Leonard sighed involuntarily. He had heard a
r°erent story of his mother's life. He had been told
ti 7? she had pined and withered for the want of the love
b at is to some natures what the sun is to the flowers;
hsut he repressed the words that rose to his lips, and
s'ade no answer to his father's self-satisfied assertion.
l'us'afraid neither Miss Bickerstaff nor mysslf
cBlld get on without it, sir," he said quietly. lam
—rrY you have set your heart on this match, for it
*ill never be."
What do you mean?'
Just what I say. I shall never marry Miss
saekerstaff;'
say you shall."
~She will not have me."
:Ilave you asked her?"
4 No, but we came to a mutual understanding one
J. She has given her heart, and will eventuilly
her hand, to someone else; and she deliberately
°ruled me when we parted that nothing on earth
0111 d-induce her to marry me.'
f:I shall write to Sir James. It is all child's's
13"5"- The thing is settled, I tell you "
am afraid you will find that Flora has unsettled
fie in six months she will be her own mistress, and
tsee to do as she likes. And, without any disrespect
YOU, sir, allow me to say that I certainly will not he
for
eed to marry any woman who openly says she does
llot wish to be my wife. We are the best of friends,
4ad always shall be—but nothing more."
114 There was nothing to be done. The young people
taken the affairs iuto theirown hands, and though
Atherstone was very angry he was powerless. He
l'a.uted his son to marry. He wished to see another
fielr to the old place before he died. He cast about him
another lady to take the place of Miss Flora
"llekerstaff, but could see no one to his liking.
, Pd wait a bit," his lawyer advised, when spoken
on the matter. "He's quite young yet, and you
gre hale and strong, and will keep Atherstone for
I:ars, please God. Let him choose for himself, if you
Sint him to be happy."
AIC. Carson, the lawyer, was a clear-headed, sensible
4iarli a good many years younger than his client, and
reloost the only man who ever dared to contradict or
asson with the squire.
Leonard was let alone, and carefully watched to
re which way perfect freedom would lead him. But
,18 Showed no signs of falling in love with anyone. Be
:as a little more serious, and less buoyant than of
rte, but he showed no preference for any of the girls
`le wet.
t Atherstone Grange is close to the village of Lining-
,..oll, and a few of the resident gentry around had
r,llghters fair and free, anyone of whom would have
tit'ed very well to live in the old house, and queen it
"ere. And Leamington, with its dozen of mania urring
4lothers and bevies of undowered daughters, was
elose at hand, but Leonard turned to none of them. 0.
Little did his father think, when his son escaped the
Zal •
v olnations of the hordes of husband-seeking girls at
,110 fashionable watering-place, and turned a deaf ear
the cajolery of county ladies and their broods, that
`41!3 heart was given away already to ene so immeasur-
-213' below himself in the social scale, that the union
.;'.puld have seemed to him as monstrous as that of
4'lng Cophetua and the beggar-maid.
Ile pursued his studies, and finally left college and
es
home, and his father thought him taciturn and
T.'ent, but attached his reticence to his likeness to
I used to think the boy a chatterbox," he said to
Carson, in the course of conversation one day,
:but, egad! he takes after me. The Atherstones were
never great talkers. They speak to the purpose, and
'3.llling more."
13u t thelasvyer saw farther into human nature than
113 Client. He knew Leonard Atherstone had some-
`hing on his mind—that his sunny, frank, outspoken
aature had not deserted him all of a sudden for
,I!othing ; and he tried in vain to find out what it was.
;!hat the young man was in love he shrewdly suspected,
'Alt his utmost penetration failed to find out with
Ithetn- He was not in debt, nor did he appear to be
tpending money uselessly or secretly, and the astute
'4WYer was fain to confess himself at fault.
1, The care that lay so heavyon Leonard Atherstone's
"eart was not his only love for Beryl Joyce—a love as
4,Dersistent and torturing as its birth was sudden—but
fact of her disappearance. In vain he looked in
„"tewspapers, theatrical and otherwise, and made such
47aquiries as he dared of those whom he thought likely
'e know; he could find no trace of the actress or her
guardians. So completely apart as his life was from
ZrlYthing connected with theatres, it was small wonder
e did not find her father and friend, and wore him-
elf almost to a skeleton with the inward fever of his
Unsuccessful search.
His father knew of the Drizzleton episode but had
110 idea of anything beyond the expenditure of the
oney,
truce Carnaby had told him of their befriending
'no forlorn company, but had not said a word which
e-oncerned Leonard's infatuation.
' Letter let sleeping dogs lie, as the old saying has
Its" he said to himself. "1 daresay Leonard has for-
gotten all about it by this time."
Ile tried to believe what he wished to think—that
Veryl Joyce was forgotten, but in his heart he knew
oetter. She would never be forgotten till Leonard
Atherstone had done with the things of this world
41teeether, and found out on the other side of the
grave why things had gone so contrarily with him on
this.

His friend had given his father a jocular account
41:f all that had passed on that evening, at the little
;°wn, and had described Mr. Whiffin and his colleagues
merry terms which made no mention of Beryl
"Yee, and the old gentleman had no idea that a
.°ll.hg and pretty girl accompanied the destitute
c9rps.
Put lie looked grave at the story, and said he was
13°17Y to hear that his son had ever come in contact
Ncith any members of the profession.
A beggirly, dissolute set," he said, his cheeks
liahing and his eyes kindling. "The men rogues and
gabonds every one, as the Act describes them;
women shameless and grasping one and all
'4llssies that lure a man on till he lays heart, health and
1111,Piness at their feet, in blind besottedness, and then
lng his love away, and laugh over it with their next
• mive. _
The young men were amazed at this outburst. They
'lila never heard him so emphatic before.
"I hope you are mistaken, Mr. Atherstone," Bruce
Caruaby said. "I believe there are pure and good
• Women on the stage as there are elsewhere. You are
Dtejudiced, perhaps."
"Not I. I only want to warn my son against having
rt,nything to do with women of that class. If I thought
liT capable of having a fancy for an actress, I think
Should disinherit him from the hour I heard the

"What makes you speak so bitterly of actresies,
•?" asked Bruce Carnaby ; and the old man frowned
4" gliive
"1 never thought to answer such a question,' he
"One which no one has a right to ask. But
Ilvl? tell you, boys, and let it be a waraing to you.
• nen I was about my son's age, I loved one. Loved
licl• with a mad passion that, were I superstitious, I
91'uld set down to withcraft. She was a bright star
111 the evil trade—at the very top of the tree—and I
Was a weak fool with plenty of money, fresh from
the country. She presented me with a daughter, and
then left me. for another man. I need not go into the
s'ekening story. Enough to say that I was thrown
(2rer—laughed at. The next I heard of Angela
uelobine was that she had left

bla 14141.4.