The Sun.
London, England, 1866-10-26 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

Kingsford. By the Author of "Son and Heir." '
Two vols. Hurst and Blackett.
In these two volumes the author of " Son and
Heir" has given us one of the most interesting
stories we have read this season. The three prin-
cipal characters, about whom the chief interest is
concentrated, are admirably well drawn. Ralph
Lorton and Margaret and Erlesmere Clive are
each in their several ways perfect. At the open-
ing of the story Erlesmere Clive is the lord of
the manor of Kingsford. The last representative
of the old family, a colonel in India, has been
disinherited by old Squi;e Kingsford, who has
left the estates to his brother-in-law, the father
of Erlesmere. On his death young Erlesmere be-
comes, as we have said, lord of the manor. He
is described, when we first meet him, as
" the very embodiment of a young ' swell '—of a
good English type, with fair complexion and blue
eyes, with flaxen moustache and whiskers—be made
a very fair Lord of the Manor—un roi debonnaire—
sweet-tempered, easy-going, lazy, extravagant. But
just as those lithe slender limbs of his had in them
as much strength as an ordinary English gentleman
could want, so his air of sleepy aristocratic languor
was but the soft outer covering of a sufficiently
tough kernal of energy and determination." The
iron hand and the velvet glove are happily com-
bined in the instance of Erlesmere Clive. When
consulting a friend about some building improve-
ments, we find him "gliding from the topic, finding
the opinion an adverse one," and we are told " that
it was Erlesmere's habit to make up his mind in
silence, to hear every one's advice with placid de-
ference, almost approval, and when they thought
they were twisting him round their fingers, be-
hold he was saying in his sleepy way—' Still
do you know, on the whole, I think I shall do as I
first proposed.'" This determination of character
stands him in good stead when, later on, the crisis
of his life puts him to the trial, and he conies out
like gold from the furnace. Very different is Mar-
garet Clive, the sister of Erlesmere. Proud and
haughty in her demeanour, but impetuous and pas-
sionate in her feelings, she is her own most cruel
enemy. Love and pride struggle for the mastery
in her heart, but in her outward bearing only pride
is visible. The third character who divides the in-
terest with the brother and sister is Ralph Lorton,
the parish doctor. Ralph happens to be a connec-
tion of the Kingsford family, some lady of that house
having, "to the hourly,mortification of her family,
married a former Ralph Lorton, the Kingsford doc-
tor of that day." "Tanned and roughened by the
sun and wind, with a frank, healthy, outdoor-look
about him, wherever Ralph Lorton went he seemed
to bring, if not always sunshine, his temper being
none of the smoothest, yet a breath of keen, exhili-
rating, westerly air." The frank, independent spirit
of the Parish Doctor is rightly appreciated by the
Lord of the Manor, and the truest and warmest
friendship subsists between the two. And how feels
Margaret? Margaret loves intellectual conversa-
tion, and Margaret, with her haughty bearing and
ambitious projects loves conversing with the Parish
Doctor. At the very beginning of the stcry the
brother and sister, and doctor, are returning from
church. Erlesmere goes in to fetch a shawl for his
sister, and Ralph Lorton hearing Miss Clive speak of
leaving Kingsford, forgets in a moment the caution
of years, and asks the proud lady to be his wife.
After a moment's pause he gets his answer—
• " Mr. Lorton," she said at last, her very lips white, her
eyes like coals of fire, "you must be out of your senses.
That is the only excuse I can make for your conduct. Al-
low me to pass, if you please."
" Wait a moment." He seemed struggling with himself
then, " Will you give me an answer ?" he said, in a hoarse
voice.

" Mr. Lorton, I think you might spare my reminding
you of the difference in our positions, which makes your
conduct to me the grossest insult !"
" Yes," he answered ; " you are the lady of the Manor,
and I am the parish doctor, and I insult you by loving
you; but, insult or not, I shall always love you, and
you can't prevent it," and he threw the gate wide open.
Margaret walked with head erect, with an air of dignity
that was a little too self-conscious to be perfect. Her
long black silken skirts swept the fallen leaves to right and
left. For a long while after the rustle of dead leaves filled
Ralph Lorton with loathing.
Erlesmere was coming to meet them, the shawl hanging
from his arm. It seemed to Ralph that a whole year had
passed—that another life, and a new order of things, had
begun since they had parted at the Manor House door.
" This much I will do," and Margaret turned and looked
at the doctor as one might look at, a toad—" I will let my
brother know nothing of thismost unpleasant conversation, I
if it can possibly be avoided."
He raised his head with a certain proud dignity.
" Miss Clive, I have done nothing to-day that I should
mind the whole world knowing. I glory in loving you—l
am not ashamed of being refused by you."
And then Erlesmere came up, and threw the shawl round
his sister with an evidently practised hand.
Awfully cold you look, both of you—quite blue."
"Yes," answered Margaret, smiling, "it was very cold
in Norwood, certainly, and we dawdled about, looking at
the view and talking about—oh, about Australia."
We have already spoken of the friendship existing
between the Lord of the Manor and the Parish
Doctor. This is forcibly exemplified, when Erles-
mere Clive risks his life to preserve Lorton from
drowning, and the next day when Ralph begins
" I haven't thanked you yet," " Pray don't begin
then," returns Erlesmere, in his most languid
tone. "We were both in the canal yesterday, and
if I had gone in first, you would have gone in
second, so where's the difference ?" "We understand
each other pretty well, I think," says Ralph.
Such being the state of feeling between them, the
painful intensity of the following scene may be con-
jectured. There has been a grand ball at Kings-
ford House, and Margaret has accepted the pro-
posal of Lord Mortlake. Brilliant and prosperous
is the career of brother and sister, when the follow-
ing interview takes place :
The young Squire and Newton werolust starting for a
"day with the rabbits." Erlesmere had gone round by the
stables, and was on his way to the keeper's lodge, when a
servant came running from the house with the tidings that
Mr. Lorton wished to speak with him.
"I hope he won't keep me long," thought Erlesmere, as
he retraced his steps, " or Newton will be savage."
In the hall workmen were carrying away camelia and
orange-trees. The debris of the ball had hardly yet dis-
appeared.
Ralph had been shown into the study. Ho stood looking
out of window, nor did he move until the Squire was close
to his elbow.
Then he turned sharply, and Erlesmere sprang back
with the conviction that the doctor had met with some
dreadful accident.
" He has been poisoning somebody by mistake," thought

the squire.
Ralph held out something which Erlesmero thought was
a folded piece of parchment.
" 1 found this yesterday," was all he said.
The Squire, perplexed, took it from him--glanced it
through. A shock of horror seemed to pass over his face,
but he neither spoke nor uttered a sound.
It was Squire Kingsford's will. Not the one by which
he had left Kingsford Manor to William Clive, and which
bore the date 12th November, 1849 ; but another by which
the estate was bequeathed to Robert Kingsford, anrlwhich
was dated June 22d, 1850. The witnesses were, Samuel
Armitage, Mary Pollard, respectively butler and cook at
the Manor House, in the old squire's time, and butler and
cook at the Manor House to this very day.
Erlesmero took rather a longer time than seemed ne-
cessary to read this,will. Then he said without looking
up,

" Where —"
He stopped, cleared his throat, which seemed a little
husky, and went on in almost his natural tone—
" Where did you find this ?"
" In Mrs. Fowler's old Bible," answered Ralph, in a hard,
sharp sort of voice.
" Mrs. Fowler's old Bible," repeated Erlesmere mechani-
cally. "Let me see," and ho put up his hand to his fore-
head as if confused—" who is Mrs. Fowler ?"
" She was servant at the Manor House twenty yea' s'ago.
The Bible was old Squire Kingsford's. It was given to her.
She gave it to me."
There was a dead silence in the room. Ralph looked
out of the window, Erlesmere looked at the will ; neither
of them knew what he was looking at.
At last Erlesmere lifted up his face, deadly white, but
perfectly composed, it was.
" The first step must be to see Mr. Gascoigne." (Mr.
Gascoigne was the Olives' family lawyer.) "Ah I re-
member, he is coming over here this afternoon." Some-
thing seemed to catch his breath as he spoke; for he had
intended discussing with Mr. Gascoigne the settlement ho
meant to make upon his sister at her marriage.
" Could p.m manage to come ht-re again at two o'clock ?"
" Yes," replied Ralph.
"It all seems correct enough," Erlesmere went on, in the
same calm tone. "But, of course, we must make quite sure.
I see the witnesses aro two of the servants. You know
Colonel Kingsford's address, I suppose 2"