CHAPTER XII.

"The night came on alone,

The little stars sat one by one,
Each on his golden throne;

The evening air pass'd by my cheek,
The leaves above were stirr'd,

But the beating of my own heart
Was all the sound I heard."

R. M. MILNES.

"And why not death, rather than living torment?
To die is to be banish'd from myself."

Two Gentlemen of Verona. "There are diversities of operations; but it is the same God which worketh all in all."-1 Cor. xii., 6.

Two hours after the sound of the chariot-wheels that conveyed Fanny to Latimer's had died away, the carriage that was to take Lady de Clifford down to Grimstone came to the door. Lord de Clifford had engagements which took him out immediately after the wedding, and therefore prevented his being in the way to see his wife off; but Mr. Frederic Feedwell had kindly remained for that purpose. After having passed a week in telling Lord de Clifford that it was weak good-nature in him to allow Lady de Clifford to remain in town for her sister's marriage, he now spent the short time that intervened between Julia's departure in shrugging his shoulders, and whispering her that really it was

"De-de-dreadfully tyrannical in De Clifford sending her down alone to that gloomy, desolate place, Grimstone, just at the beginning of the season, too; and that, though no one admired obedience in a wife more than he did, yet there were things that no wife ought to submit to, and it was qu-qu-quite evident to him that De Clifford was getting her out of the way for his own purposes; and though he did not pretend to be ve-ve-very moral, yet really such things were too bad in a married man; a married man, you know, Lady de Clifford!" and up went his two fingers.

Having turned in silent contempt from the serpent-like consolation of Mr. Frederic Feedwell, poor Julia had

next to endure what was much more insupportable, the false and treacherous condolences of her mother-in-law. My dear madam, I feel quite sorry you are not going to remain the season in town; any one else might find it vaustly dull at Grimstone just now; but with your mind and the little gurl's company, I'm sure you never can be dull."

"My brother thought, my dear Julia," yawned out Mr. Herbert Grimstone, as he stood arranging the few fractional hairs on each temple under his hat, "my brother thought that, not being well, you would prefer being in the country. I'm sure that anything he and I can ever do to promote your comfort in any way, we shall be most happy to do."

"I'm sure, my dear, it does great credit to your head and hort to say so."

"Oh, I'm sure, my dear mamma, Julia will do me the justice to believe that I have always studied her interests as much as if she had been my own sister."

But Julia leaving the room in utter disgust at the contemptible little animal's inane hollowness, the amiable mother and son took their departure, and left her to finish the preparations for her journey unmolestedly, save by the sighs and indignation of Beryl, who kept flinging the things about, as she vowed to Miss Grant (little Julia's new governess) that of all the wicked things Lord de Clifford and his mother had yet been guilty of, "this sending her dear lady away to that dreary, horrid place, at this time of the year, was the most wickedest." That she was sincere in this opinion no one can doubt, when it is remembered that ladies cannot be banished without their maids, and that, two hours before, Beryl had seen Luton and Gifford so happily forming part of the "cortège" of the bridal party; all of which formed a most tantalizing background, in her imagination, to the gloomy gable ends of the Elizabethan pile at Grimstone, with its cold passages, bad neighbourhood, and worse roads, and its village church which scarcely mustered a congregation of twenty, while the stone effigies of the Grimstones looked only less cold and rigid than their living descendants.

"But never mind; mark my words, ma'am," said Beryl to Miss Grant, as she locked the last imperial with a jerk, and pushing it with her foot, called to two of the footmen to take it down stairs, and let her ladyship know

that everything was ready; "mark my words, ma'am, it will come home to them yet; for it is an impossibility such wickedness should go unpunished, especially with the old woman, who is at the bottom of it all.”

"I think, Beryl," said Miss Grant, "you ought to try and appear cheerful and happy, for poor Lady de Clifford's sake; for it can but add to her low spirits to see every one miserable and discontented about her."

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Oh, bless her," replied Beryl," she shall not see me discontented; but I cannot help saying, ma'am, what I think of those wretches, for they are nothing else."

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Beryl, Beryl," cried little Julia, running in with Tiney in her arms, mamma is waiting; and she says you are not to forget Tiney's basket; and do give me a silk handkerchief to tie round her poor little throat, for she is trembling with the cold."

"If she is so cold, miss, a velvet shawl will be better."

"So it will," said the child, delightedly, as she wrapped up the little animal, leaving nothing but its beautiful head and long ears visible; "and how pretty she looks with all this black velvet around her; doesn't she, Miss Grant?"

“Yes, dear, very pretty,” replied Miss Grant, patting the dog's head; "but your mamma is waiting, and we must go."

"I do love you," said Julia, following her down stairs; "for you never scold me, and tell me I am a fool about the dog, as Mademoiselle d'Antoville used; and," continued the child, stopping on the landing-place, and standing on tiptoe as she held up her little mouth to her governess, “I like to kiss you too, for you are so pretty, and so smooth, and so clean."

About three o'clock on the day after she left London, Lady de Clifford arrived at Grimstone. Dreary and desolate as she had always found it, it was now additionally so, for the house was undergoing repair, and was still full of workmen. The cold, cheerless hall was a perfect chaos, with deal boards, shavings, carpenters' tools, and packing-cases, that had been forwarded from Italy. The uncarpeted stairs presented nothing but dirt and discomfort, and the grating of saws and the din of hammers distracted one sense, while the dense smoke of green wood, that issued from the cold and long-unoccupied grates, overpowered another.

As soon as Julia had reached her bedroom, she was astonished to see the posts, tester, and footboard of an old, carved, black oak bedstead, in which she was to sleep, still lying in disjointed fragments about the floor! The fact was, Lord de Clifford had too much on his mind, both amatory and political, to be able to think of such trifles as the comfort and well-being of his wife and child, and, therefore, had only written to Mrs. Jones, the housekeeper, two days before, announcing that Lady de Clifford was going to Grimstone; it was enough for him to know that they were banished, and thereby that he had the world to himself, without being guilty of the puerility of caring how dreary the banishment might be. Immediately on the receipt of his letter, poor Mrs. Jones had fumed, fretted, ordered, scolded, scrubbed, swept, and, in short, done all that could be done in the time; and though great had been the labours of each and all, little was the apparent result from them.

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"Dear mamma," said Julia, come out of this nasty, cold room; the smoke will make you cry, as it does

me.

Poor Lady de Clifford sank into a chair and cried in good earnest. Beryl, who now arrived, laden with cloaks and packages, cast one look round the dreary dismantled room, and muttering, "Well, this is a little too bad," rang the bell violently. Mrs. Jones appeared, courtesying and panting, with her hand upon her side, quite out of breath between agitation and getting up stairs. As soon as she could speak, she also began to cry. "I assure you, my lady," sobbed she at last, "I never was so hurt in my life as to think you should have to come to such a place; but I only got my lord's letter two days ago; and work as we would, we could get no farther than you see, having no idea that the house would be wanting these four months, if then.""I think, ma'am," said Beryl, ironically, 66 as you pretend to feel so much for her ladyship, you might, at least, have had her bed put up: where is she to sleep, pray?"

"Oh, do not say pretend, Mrs. Beryl, for I do feel for her ladyship with all my heart; but it is not my fault about the bed either. Last week a very handsome bedstead, with crimson damask hangings, all beautifully trimmed with white satin, like a wedding-bed, came down; and thinking, of course, it was for my lady, it

was put up here; but last night, down came Mr. Tabouret, the upholsterer, in a great fright, and said it was all a mistake, as it was for my lord's own room in Grosvenor-street; so it was taken down, and sent away at eight this morning, and they have not yet had time to put up the other."

"Trimmed with white satin! trimmed with white satin!" muttered Beryl, bridling up, and throwing everything about within her reach; "I'll tell you what hit is, Mrs. Jones," continued she, walking up to her, and speaking in a low voice, with her teeth set and her hands clinched, "I'd a tore it all to pieces with my hown ands when it ad the good luck to come in my way, before I'd a let him and his fy-fies a had such a bed, while his poor dear wife is to be shut up in this dreary prison, without any bed at all, it seems. Oh, shame, shame! I wonder, Mrs. Jones, where your feeling as a woman, as as been a wife, was, to let the filthy bed go back."

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Indeed, ma'am," sobbed Mrs. Jones, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron, "had I suspected anything of the sort, I am sure I should have laid violent hands on it."

"Ah! some people never has the sense to suspect nothing, and that's what the men wants to bring us hall to; but they will find some of us too many for them yet."

"Beryl," called Lady de Clifford, coughing violently, "do get me some 'pâte de Guimauve.'"

"If I might take such a liberty as to ask your_ladyship to sit in the housekeeper's room,” said Mrs. Jones, advancing, "you would find it what no other part of the house is at present-clean, warm, comfortable, and quite free from smoke."

"Thank you, Jones; but that would be turning you

out."

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Oh, never mind me, my lady; I can stay in the stillroom, or the hall, or anywhere; but it would be something off my mind if I could see you and Miss Julia, bless her! a little more comfortable."

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Do, mamma," said Julia, "for Jones used to have such nice cakes and sweetmeats in that room, and I dare say she has still."

Lady de Clifford smiled at the cogency of the child's reasoning; and yielding to the combined entreaties of