The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-06-18 00:00:00

•1

SATURDAY, JUNE 18, 1887.

NOBLER THAN REVENGE.

BY TES
Author of" The Heiress of Atherstone Grange

CHAPTER V.
TURNING HIS BACK ON IT.
' He turned his charger as he spoke,
Upon the river shore;
He gave his bridle rein a shake,
With "Adieu for evermore, ;
"My,dear— '
" Adieu for evermore. '—SCOT?.
MA—here's Cuthbert.

It was Madge Churchill who spoke—Mrs. Churchill's
Youngest daughter—a bright, pretty girl, about the
age of Phyllis Jarvis, but all unlike that young lady;
as great a contrast to her as could well be imagined.
Madge was no prettier, for Mrs. Jarvis's daughter was
a very good•looking girl. But the Churchills were
allowed to be natural, and the fresh young faces
might light up with a smile, and the lips utter what-
ever of harmless nonsense they liked without reproof.
They were unaffected, happy girls, great favourites
in Hillford ; they dressed with taste, and were not
ashamed of the fact that they made most of their clothes
themselves, and turned their pretty little hands to
anything by which they might help their mother to
save the expenses of servants, and make things more
comfortable for her. Airs. Churchill was not rich;
her husband had been an officer in the army, but there
had been but slender provision for his family at his
death. He had been one of those men who put off the
evil day of providing for those they leave behind
them, trusting to some golden future which they are
sure to see, to set all things straight—and are bitterly
remorseful, when the summons comes for them to
give an account of their stewardship, and they have
nothing to show for the talents rendered to them in
this world.

A better man or a kinder husband and father than
Major Churchill never existed. It was only procrasti-
nation, and his weeping wife forgave him with all
her heart, and bade him be content, they should be
rich enough, and hid the terror of the future that was
crushing her like a millstone, and smiled bravely
back into his dying face that he might go from her in
comfort and at peace. It was bard to face the world
after he was gone, and sell their pleasant home, and
the luxuries that they had been accustomed to, and
come to Hillford to settle down in what was a cottage
compared to the place they bad left; but she had a
buoyant spirit and good dutiful children, and they
resolved to make the best of what could not be helped,
and find a pace and a future for themselves in a new
world. _ .

Milford welcomed them warmly—a pleasant woman
and two pretty girls are an acquisition in a little
country town, and they seemed part and parcel of the
place now. Fern Bank, as the house was called, was
one of the prettiest nooks about the neighbourhood,
and Mrs. Churchill was looked upon as one of the
most delightful women in the county. Fortune had
smiled upon her in a small way since her arrival there.
She had succeeded in establishing her right to some
of the property which went from her through her
husband's negligence before his death. Mr. Jarvis
had been the means of bringing about the agreeable
result, and the consequence of theirintercourse during
the arranging of the business had been a fast friend-
ship between them, and a great many good turns done
tot he widow lady by the wealthy lawyer.
It was he who cast about for some fashion in which
they might eke out their slender means without loss of
caste and self-respect, and sent them a friend of his as
a boarder, who had given them scarcely any trouble,
and paid them well. He had called their house his
home and left his belongings there, but he was most
of his time abroad, and when he died at Florence, and
his affairs were arranged, his executors handed in five
hundred pounds to the widow and her children, in
memory,' so the will said, of much kindness and
never-failing attention.'
So that altogether Mrs. Churchill considered herself
a very lucky woman. And now Mr. Jarvis had done
her another good turn in sending her his ward, who
was to stay with her till her marriage, and be in all
things like her own daughter. She already loved
Helen—she had warmed to her from the first sight of
her beautiful face; and Nora and Madge, her two girls
were equally smitten by the charms of the new comer.
Nora .was about Helen's age, Madge some two years
younger, and they had already found out that their
tastes accorded wonderfully. They were musical, so
was Helen; they liked amusement and going to parties
and all the bright enjoyments that girlhood is fond of.
Miss Ramsay had not had much opportunity of enjoy-
ing herself in her life as yet, for she had been at school
almost ever since she could remember. But she knew
she had a great capacity for anything that was nice and
amusing, and altogether she was very well satisfied
with the home her guardian had provided for her.
True, there was Frank Hatherleigh to think of, and
the knowledge that all the lazy enjoyment of life
would come to an end in the course of a year at
farthest, when she would have to take up life's more
serious duties, and settle down as a wife. But there
would be time enough to think of all that when it
came, and in the meantime Frank could come and see
her as often as he wished; every day if he liked, for
Hillford was quite close enough to town to make even
that practicable.
The Misses Churchill were the least bit scandalised
at Helen's extreme lukewarmness about her lover.
Madge, who was nothing if not romantic had even
asked her how she could be so matter-of-fact about it.
• It s the most delicious bit of romance, dear,' she
said, 'that I ever heard of. It's like being the heroine
of a novel.'
• 'lt isn't romantic a bit, dear, if you only knew,'
Helen replied. 'You had no ides what it was to have
Frank coming by appointment, and everybody point-
ing him out to everybody else as "Miss Ramsay's
young man." He went to church with us once, and
everyone stared so. I really felt the clergyman
would make a sermon out of our presence. He was se
"affectionately interested in his dear young friends"
—that was what he said, and I felt so exasperated I
should like to have bitten him.'
Madge laughed, but declared she should like to be
the heroine of just such a story. She liked to be noticed
and talked about.
You wouldn't like that,' Helen persisted; 'but
thank goodness it's all over ROW. Frank and I can
meet like rational beings, and we shall get on better,
I dare say.'
Don't you get on?' asked Madge, in amazement.
Such a thing as not getting on with a betrothed hus-
band had never entered her calculations.
Oh, yes; we are very good friends. Frank is a
good fellow, but we have belonged to each other so
many years that the edge is all rubbed off, you see.'
'I can't fancy the edge of a thing of that sort being
rubbed off,' Madge said with the air of an authority.'
Helen laughed at her wise face, and thought what
a pretty picture she made sitting there on the low
fateuil in the bay window, with a backing of soft lace
curtain and bright flowers. Helen was an artist,
though she did not know it. She had a natural gift
for colours, though her talent for drawing was not
great; and Madge, in her soft grey morning dress,
with its crimson ribbons and falling lace ruffles, looked
the very embodiment of girlish grace and prettiness—
not beauty. No one could have called the youngest
Miss Churchill a beauty, as artists reckon female
loveliness. She had soft brown hair, and a saucy face,
with bright intelligent eyes and a pretty figure that
adapted itself to any fashion of costume and made her
always one of the best dressed girls in the town.
Her voice was of a class that Shakespeare calls an
'An excellent thing in woman,' low and sweet, like
Annie Laurie's, and pleasant to listen to, as her mother
and sister found. Madge was always voted the
reader of the family when there was anything to read
aloud.
'Can't you?' Helen said smiling. ' Ah, you haven't
had to put up with it Madge; I have. I was very
much inclined to run away after it all was settled, and
Mr. Jarvis had told me what my parents' wishes and
Frank's were. You see I wasn't like other girls. Every-
thing about me bad to be• done through Mr. Jarvis.
He is very kind to me, as kind as any father—a great
deal kinder than some, I fancy. But there are times
when a girl wants a mother too.'
•Ah ! I can't think what it can be like to be with-
out one,' Madge said, sliding her hand into Helen's, for
- she had caught the little sigh with which the words
were spoken, we have always had mamma; she was
always so much more to us than poor papa, though
we loved him very dearly too. I think we felt both of
us that she was the most fitted to be our guide: you
could not make a mother out of Mrs. Jarvis, I fancy,
from all I have heard of her.'
'No, Mr. Jarvis never tried it. I have not been
there much; you see he loved my mother very early
when they were both young, and she never knew it.
He gave her up to his friend, but he has never for-
gotten her; he treasures her portrait and her old
. letters now, and Mrs. Jarvis is so different. I think
from something I heard while I was at Miss Nettley's
that he wanted a housekeeper, and he just let her
marry him and look after him. He and Miss Nettle),
are great friends, you know.' "
And he put you there?'
Yes, and a miserable little wretch I was when I
went there. I was only about eight years old, and a
thin wizened child, the veriest little brown skeleton
. you ever saw. Indian children don't grow fat, you
know,'
Oh, Helen, do you remember India?'
Not a bit,' Helen replied, shaking her head. ' I
have vague dreams of black servants with not much
or, and men in white clothing, and the discordant
• noises of all sorts of animals, and heat unutterable;
but I actually remember nothing. Things come back
to me when I read about India now—but that is all.'
And you were at Miss Nettley's all your life after?
I'm very inquisitive, but I do like to hear about
people at school. I never was at school in my life;
when papa was alive we bad a governess, and after
h:s death it could not be thought of, and we were
grown into something beyond schoolgirls—at least
mamma said so. She wanted us at home, and we
had to do as we could since.'
It has Lean a very good do, dear. No school eould
have m ide you better or nicer. I was very happy at
Miss Nettley's, for she behaved as like a mother to me
-as she knew how, poor dear. It was just a happy
home till Frank came in the *ter.'
' Helt n
clJn't open your eyes so wide, child. I don't
mean any treason to Frank in my speech. It was only
that, after that, when all the girls knew that we were
ngeged, and Miss Nettley, dear old thing, had talked
to me about it, as Mr. Jarvis asked her to do—though
h. re was not the slightest need for the sermon she
Lave me—it was horrid. The girls used to watch:for