SPURS AND SKIRTS. CHAPTER I. “The child is father to the man." N a lovely afternoon, in the month of August, ΟΝ two travellers, who from their peculiar gait were easily recognizable as dragoon officers, might be seen walking from Prince's Street, Edinburgh, towards Arthur's Seat. The elder of the two was a man of herculean proportions. His brow was high and broad, bearing the unmistakeable impress of intellect; his hair, which was cut quite short, à la militaire, was very black; his skin was a clear olive colour; his nose large and slightly aquiline; while his eyes were large and black, with a strange power of fascination in them. mouth was entirely covered with a luxuriant moustache, but you might judge from the expression of his eyes that it was small, with thin lips, and hard lines about it, indicating great strength of will. His So much for the physique of Captain Bennett Leslie, of the Dragoon Guards. As he is destined to play a very prominent part in my tale, a further description of him, and a few remarks on his antecedents, will not be out of place here. Bennett Leslie was the second son of James Leslie, Esq., M. P., of Leslie Hall, in the county of Devonshire. His mother, a sweet, lovely, and gentle woman, died of consumption when he was only a year old, leaving himself, a brother, and sister to console their bereaved father for his irreparable loss. Did I say irreparable? I am afraid I must recall that word; for in just a year and a day from her death, James Leslie brought home another wife, a young girl of only seventeen, just emancipated from the school-room, with her head full of romance and dress, with but one fixed idea in her mind, and that was to marry a rich man, in order to have a handsome establishment, plenty of fine clothes, jewels, &c., &c., to obtain which she felt she could even sacrifice the passion she had entertained for the interesting, melancholy-looking Italian master, Signor Moltofuego. I will do her the justice to say, that when informed by her father that his old friend Mr Leslie had asked his consent to pay his addresses to her, offering to make the most liberal marriage settlements upon her, she did experience a sort of shock, on reflecting that he was at least twenty years older than herself, and that if she accepted him she would be under the torturing necessity of tearing Signor Moltofuego's image from her breast. She then looked upon this picture and upon that, weighed well all the pros and cons, put the youth, handsome person, and delightful romance of the one versus the age, position, and riches of the other, and at last with a little sigh was obliged to admit that this was all very well in theory, but that that was better in practice; so Mr Leslie exultingly carried his silly young wife home, and installed her the proud and happy mistress of his splendid mansion, and (what she did not care for) the mother of his little orphans. Mrs Leslie had entered upon her new duties with the thoughtlessness of a child, without the least idea of their sacredness and responsibility,she was so genuinely selfish, and, indeed, had not the slightest idea that anything could be expected of her but to be always well dressed, receive company, go to balls, and look as pretty as possible. During the honeymoon, she had made her husband repeat to her over and over again a description of the Hall, the different families in the neighbourhood, and his children. About James, the eldest boy (just a year younger than herself), she did not feel much anxiety, as Mr Leslie, fearing the idea of having so old a step-son might frighten his young and timid bride, had taken care to assure her that he would never be at home, he being then at Eton, whence he was to go Cambridge to study for holy orders. He asked her indulgence however for his sweet Blanche, who was gentle and timid as a fawn, and whose education was being carried on under the care of a highly-accomplished resident governess. As for the baby, who was just two years old, he was obliged to confess that he was somewhat of a Turk, but had no doubt she would soon be able to teach him better things. The result however proved that Mr Leslie had been over-sanguine, for on his wife's paying her first visit to the nursery, the morning after her arrival in her new home, and holding out her arms to take him, the little rebel clung frantically to his nurse, putting his nails in such startling proximity to his step-mamma's face, while crying out, "dow away, naughty ady," that she was only too glad to make a hasty exit. She tried the coaxing system two or three times more, her vanity receiving a shock even from the dislike of such a mere baby, but, finding it all in vain, she finally gave it up as hopeless, and was soon after so busy preparing for her presentation at Court that she even forgot the child's exist ence. Mr Leslie's parliamentary duties kept him in London for some months after this all-important event, and soon after their return to the Hall Mrs Leslie gave birth to a little girl. This circumstance increased Mr Leslie's infatuation for his wife to such an extent, that he would not even see that the children of his first wife were utterly neglected,—the one left entirely to the care of her governess, a well-meaning but cold and reserved woman, little calculated to fill up the void in the poor orphan's heart made by the death of her mother and the alienation of her father (a void that was gradually but surely undermining her already delicate constitution, and sending her to fill that one vacant spot beside her mother's still newly-made grave); and the other to the care of his nurse, a good-natured but ignorant Devonshire woman, who was constantly impressing upon his infant mind that he had received unheard-of injuries at the hands of all the world, his step-mother and baby sister especially. As years went on, the |