Chapter II: Lady Greensleeves' Story (1)

In the year 1674 (nearly two hundred years ago, my dears), I was born in this house. My name, as you now know, was not Lady Greensleeves or Lady anything then, but plain Mistress Frances Dalrymple. My father, Sir Bernard, was the third baronet of our house. You know his portrait in the mulberry-coloured coat and fair periwig over the dining-room chimney-piece; my mother's hangs opposite, just as it did when I first remember it. Well, as I said just now, I was born in this house, and till I was ten years old I never left it for a single night. You know we could not rush about in my time as you do now: as for going to the sea-side in the summer, such an idea never entered our heads. I suppose we were stronger than you modern people. At all events, doctors never ordered us change of air; and we did very well without it. Besides, we didn't care much about the sea in those days. I daresay you would hardly believe me if I told you that I never even saw it till I was past twenty, and then the sight was anything but pleasant to me. But this was the fact, nevertheless; and I do not think it ever occurred to any of us that we should like to stay by the shore and build castles in the sand, and hunt for shells and pebbles, as children do in these days.

'I was very happy here at Horsemandown running about with my three brothers--playing with the dogs, and attending to our chickens, our tame animals, our hawks, and goats, and rabbits. Ah, those were merry days! (jolly, I suppose _you_ would say). Such games of hide-and-seek we used to have in the garden and park! There were about three times as many trees in the park in those days: one old hollow oak there was, a splendid hiding-place, but in which nobody ever thought of hiding, because it was always there that the seekers first came to search. Old Shad (Shadrach was his proper name), my father's falconer, used to call it Merlin's Oak. He knew an endless stock of stories about King Arthur and his knights, and Merlin, and all those people; and we used firmly to believe that King Arthur lived at Horsemandown, and that the great table inlaid with brass in my mother's grand withdrawing-room must have been the original round-table. As to Merlin, old Shad had not the smallest doubt that he was charmed to sleep in our favourite oak, and we thought of course that Shad knew all about it. I remember little Roger, the youngest of us all, asking Shad if he had ever been out hawking with King Arthur. Roger had very odd ideas about age. He thought nobody ever had been, or ever could be, older than Shad; and told Mrs. Rebecca, my mother's tirewoman (I beg your pardon, lady's-maid), that she was what he considered an elderly person. If she had been thirty-two instead of twenty-two, I don't think she would have laughed till she cried, or have taken the pains to chase Roger round the room for a kiss. My brothers were all younger than myself. Oliver came next to me. Poor Oliver, how fond I was of him! But so indeed I was of Miles and Roger. The same tutor taught us all; and the only lesson that I had apart from them was needlework. That hour which I spent every morning, doing silk embroidery under my mother's superintendence, was the time that I hated more than all the rest of the day. My mother was very skilful in this obnoxious embroidery, and indeed in all kinds of work; but in other respects she was not an accomplished woman. So, as she and our tutor, Master Waynefleet, were my only teachers till I was more than ten years old, I could neither dance nor sing, nor play upon the harp, as a well-educated young lady ought to have done. I don't think my mother considered these accomplishments necessary. At all events, she did not take my ignorance then much to heart. My father would sometimes look at me with a doubtful, critical sort of expression, and ask me an abrupt question, generally about my studies; sometimes he would inquire what I had been doing with myself all day, and my answers never seemed to please him. He would raise his eyebrows, and give a peculiar whistle, or a short laugh, which always made me feel very uncomfortable, and very much ashamed of myself, though I did not exactly know why. However, it was not very often that this happened, for I saw very little of my father; and, to say the truth, this did not much distress me. Children in these days can have no idea how dreadfully afraid of him I used to be; and yet I was by no means a shy or timid child. Rather the contrary. I was not afraid of my mother, nor of Master Nicholas Waynefleet; though I certainly never dreamed of treating him in the familiar way that you would treat your elders now-a-days. Not that I should have been any better if I had been born in this century. Dear me, no! I should probably have been the most pert and disrespectful of you all; but when I try to imagine myself romping with my father, and asking him questions, or answering him, as you do your papa and mamma, it really makes me quite cold and shaky. Ah! even mamma, though I loved her with all my heart (and no mother could be fonder of her daughter than she was of me), would have been rather astonished if I had plunged into her arms and given her one of those rough, unceremonious hugs and kisses that I so often see inflicted on the present Lady Dalrymple of Horsemandown. Why, she always taught me to courtesy when I entered or left a room, even if no one was there but herself; and I very seldom called her anything but madam. I daresay this seems frightfully cold and stiff to you, but it was as natural to me as it is to you to address your governess as "Miss Gregory," instead of using her Christian name. Mamma and I were a good deal together. I being the only girl, and papa being very seldom at home, I was her only companion, and my time was spent pretty equally between her and my brothers. My father, as I have said, was not often at Horsemandown. Some part of the year he was, of course, obliged to be in London to attend Parliament; but at other times he would be constantly away from home. He was a good deal at the court; for my father was a great favourite of King Charles II., and both he and my grandfather had been among those gentlemen who were sent over to Holland to bring home the King at the Restoration in 1660. He never took my mother with him either to London or to the court, and I do not think she had any more wish to go than he had to take her. His whole mind was wrapped up in politics, and she took not the slightest interest in them; neither did she care for the court and its gaieties. She used to tell me that she had had enough of court life when she first married, and hoped that, if ever I did go to Whitehall, I might be as glad to leave it as she had been. All her interest now was in me and my brothers, and in the affairs of the household and estate. She was an extremely brisk, active person, always busied about something. I was very proud of helping her in the garden, the still-room, and the kitchen; for she always superintended the making of preserves, pickles, and home-made wines, etc. We used to go about the garden together, cutting off the dead roses, gathering saffron, lavender, and camomile flowers, and spreading them out to dry in the sunny window-seats of the still-room,--into the dairy to watch the four apple-cheeked dairy-maids churning away at the butter, and pressing the cheese; and we used to attend to the poultry too; and to the bees; and to walk to any cottage on the estate where a sick person had been heard of, carrying sundry draughts, compounded by my mother's own hand. Well! I always like to remember those days. I think they were the best, or if not _quite_ the best, at least they were some of the happiest days of my life. However, I daresay you would rather hear about my unhappiest days. That quiet, comfortable kind of life that one really enjoys most one's self, is not half so amusing to other people as one's misfortunes; but I am coming to a more interesting part of my story now. One morning (it was in December 1684, when I was between ten and eleven years old) Oliver and I were going out hunting with old Shad. He had begun to teach us to ride, almost before we could walk; and I must say I think we did him great credit. This was the first winter we had been ever allowed to hunt. Mamma had long given it up, though she was an excellent horsewoman. She had no time for it now, she said; but she never minded trusting us to Shad's care. And, after every gallop across country, Oliver and I used to nearly tease the life out of the poor old fellow till he promised to take us again. It was a fresh wind this morning, with some bursts of sunshine from time to time, as the clouds flew across the sky. Oliver and I would insist on racing one another through the park, heedless of poor Shad, who jogged behind at a sober pace, shouting to us imploringly not to tire the horses so early in the day. We were flying along in this way, both in mad spirits, down a rough, winding lane that skirted the park, both bent upon seeing who should first leap a little brook that crossed the path, when suddenly what should appear running towards us but a rough grey Irish staghound, the sight of which made Oliver exclaim, "Larry! and my father!" When his master went from home, Larry was seldom left behind. They both had been away for more than a month, staying with Sir Harry Mountfort at New Court, and my father had sent us no notice of his intended return. Oliver, when he saw Larry followed by two mounted figures advancing very carefully and deliberately over the stones and ruts of the narrow lane, immediately turned and trotted back to the side of the ill-used Shad, and I had a strong inclination to do the same; but my little mare Hebe was going at a pace somewhat too headlong to be checked in a moment, and I was over the brook almost before I had time to think about it. I had shot right between the two horsemen before I could pull up, and was not surprised to hear a loud exclamation of mingled wrath and astonishment as I flew past. A _very_ strong exclamation it was,--not quite what your papa would like his little girl to hear; but gentlemen in those times were not scrupulous as to their language, even before their wives and daughters. When at length I managed to bring Mrs. Hebe to a standstill, my father had dismounted, and striding up to me, took hold of the bridle and turned her head. Not a word did he say to me till he had examined Hebe all over with an anxious and critical eye; then, patting her glossy neck soothingly, he turned his mind to me. I suppose I looked in a terrible fright. I certainly felt as if my cheeks were crimson, and my hands shook so that I dropped the reins. My father put them into my hand again with one of his sarcastic laughs, and then asked, less angrily than I expected:

'"And now, Mistress Frances, where might you be going to in such a hurry?"

'"We were going out with Mr. Atherley's hounds," I faltered out, finding it very hard to keep from bursting into tears.

'"Oh, indeed! Are you in the habit of following Mr. Atherley's hounds all by yourself?"

'"No, sir; Shad is taking me and Oliver. We have only been once before." And as I spoke, I saw, to my great relief, Shad and my brother emerging from a bend in the lane.

'"And pray, what does Shad mean by letting you start at this break-neck pace, and down this lane too,--full of holes like fish-pools, and flints as sharp as the point of my rapier? Out upon him! If you had thrown down Hebe! That old fool Shad shall be taken to account for this."

'In spite of the awe that I felt for my father, I could not sit silently and hear dear old Shad abused, especially when I knew my brother and I were alone to blame with regard to the "break-neck pace."

'"Indeed, sir," I cried eagerly, "it was not Shad's fault at all. He called to us the whole way not to gallop; but we wouldn't stop, because we wanted to run races."

'"Faith! but she's a spirited little damsel," said my father's companion, laughing. "Come, Dalrymple, as Hebe's knees, luckily, are not broken, you must forgive her this time. You won't have the trouble of keeping her in order much longer, you know. It will be somebody else's business to scold her soon."

'Somebody else! What could he mean? I dared not ask, for he had not spoken to me; so I could only glance curiously, first at him, then at my father. There was not much to be gathered from their faces, however. That of the latter was stern, and a little anxious, while his friend's expressed nothing but amusement.

'"There, there! A truce to that for the present, Mountfort," my father said as he caught my eye. "As you say, Hebe's knees are, luckily, not broken--(no thanks to her mistress, though); so we will say no more about it now. Frances, this is my friend, Sir Harry Mountfort. Give him your hand; and don't look sheepish, like a little country maiden who has never seen a gentleman in her life before."

'Now, however sheepish one may feel, one does not like to be called so before a stranger; so I held up my head, and made a tremendous effort to look dignified and self-possessed, as became Mistress Frances Dalrymple of Horsemandown. Sir Harry shook hands good-naturedly; asked me about my hunting; said I sat my horse admirably, and wished me a good day's sport; but I could hardly answer him properly, because I was trying all the time to hear what my father was saying to Shad and Oliver. He did not take Shad to task, as he had threatened to do, but merely told him to go on with Oliver, and to take the horses gently down the lane. But what was my dismay when he said, "Mistress Frances will not hunt this morning. I shall take her home with me!" I really could not keep the tears out of my eyes this time, it was such a terrible disappointment. I looked ruefully at Sir Harry, with a faint hope that he might remonstrate on my behalf, as he had done before. But no: he evidently did not mean to do any such thing; so I was obliged to keep my vexation to myself, and watch Shad and Oliver with longing eyes, as they vanished from view down the lane. I could not understand whether my father was still angry with me or not, but thought he must have put a stop to my hunting as a punishment for my carelessness in risking Hebe's knees. What other reason he could have, I tried in vain to imagine. He had never before cared to have me with him,--never before introduced me to any of the friends who from time to time he brought to Horsemandown. At all events, whatever his motive might be, I thought it very hard to be obliged to ride soberly home by my father's side, when I might have been galloping over the fields, leaping hedges and ditches,--chattering at my ease to Oliver, with no one to control us but poor, dear, old Shad, who let us do almost anything we chose; and whom in return, I am afraid, we teased without mercy. We rode slowly back up the lane, and through the park; and though I kept on crying to myself, I contrived to choke back the sobs that rose in my throat. But tears would roll faster and faster down my cheeks. I thought of my last day's hunting, when I had outstripped all the ladies of the party, not to mention Oliver and Shad,--when the master of the hounds had praised my horsemanship, and I had struck Miles and Roger with awe and admiration by bringing home the brush in my hat. How proud I was of my exploits that day! and how much I had been bent upon gaining even more praise this morning! Dear me! I am afraid I must have been a vain little girl in those days, and a very foolish one too, to make such a fuss about a little disappointment. A year later I had learned to be wiser; for the more of the world we see, the less important we think ourselves; and when once we know by experience what real trouble is, little everyday vexations seem much easier to bear. For some time my father and Sir Harry were too much wrapped up in their own conversation to take any notice of me or my tears. I daresay I should have listened too, and forgotten my grievance, if I could have understood what they were saying; but, unfortunately, they spoke French; and though I used to read French and make translations every day with Master Waynefleet, that was quite a different thing to being able to follow it when people chose to speak in very fast and eager undertones. Now and then I caught my own name, but that only made me feel more aggrieved at not understanding anything else. So I cried on like a silly child, "because I'd nothing else to do" (as that Irish song says, that Christie is always singing when she goes up and down stairs). At last Sir Harry turned his head to ask me whether I thought mamma would give him a night's lodging, and looked somewhat astonished at the sight of my dolorous face.

'"Why, Dalrymple!" cried he; "here's a melancholy state of things. Your daughter is weeping out those bright eyes of hers, by way of giving us a welcome to Horsemandown."

'"What's the matter now, Frances?"

'My father's glance of cold surprise, and the tone of annoyance with which he asked this, checked my tears in a moment.

'"Well!" he repeated when I hesitated, thoroughly ashamed of having behaved so childishly before a stranger. "Oh, is that all?" he said when I murmured something about hunting; and he looked at Sir Harry with a laugh, and an expressive shrug of the shoulders. "Don't be a baby, child! I expected to find you more of a woman."

'This was humiliating. I would have given up two or three days' hunting now not to have cried.

'"Never mind, Mistress Frances," said good-natured Sir Harry; "you can go a-hunting when I am gone, you know. I shall be off to-morrow morning, so you only have to-day to make my acquaintance; and you and I are going to be great friends, I am sure." And so we were, before many minutes had passed. My tears dried in the wind, and in a little while I found myself talking and laughing with Sir Harry Mountfort as if I had known him all my life, and much more at my ease then I had ever ventured to be with my father. Sir Harry asked me all sorts of questions, paid me all sorts of compliments, and said the most absurd things with the gravest of faces; and my father, too, talked more pleasantly than he had ever talked to me before, and laughed at his friend's ridiculous speeches as much as I did myself. I began to think Sir Harry the kindest man I had ever seen, and yet every now and then there was something in his eyes that gave me a suspicion that he was what Robin would call "chaffing me." All the time, I had a vague sort of feeling that my mother would dislike him, though I could not feel sure why. As we rode up to the house, Miles and Roger came tearing out of the poultry-yard to see who we were, but, upon closer inspection, tore back again, and, by the time we had dismounted, reappeared walking demurely one on each side of mamma, who wore her great black garden hood, and had her apron filled with eggs. However she was dressed, mamma could not look anything but a thorough lady, and a very beautiful woman too; still my father, as he greeted her and introduced Sir Harry Mountfort, was evidently a little bit distressed at her costume, and, I could see, was particularly scandalized at the exhibition of the eggs. "So you have brought back Frances!" she said, looking anxiously at my face, which still showed signs of my crying fit.

'"Nothing has happened? She has had no accident with Hebe?"

'"No, sweetheart," replied my father, with a tinge of impatience in his voice; "I wanted the child at home to-day. Surely when I come home, after being absent for so long, my daughter might be content to spend a few hours with me without grudging." Then, as I ran away to change my habit and tell my adventures to the boys, I heard him add in a lower key: "I must have a little conversation with you about Frances, Sir Harry and I have----"

'The rest of the sentence I lost, but I had heard enough to throw me into a state of extreme curiosity and excitement. Something must be going to happen to me,--there could be no doubt about that; but was it to be something agreeable or disagreeable? I felt half frightened, yet at the same time in tremendously high spirits, as I pondered over this mysterious something, and made all sorts of wild guesses as to what it could be. How I longed for Oliver to come home, that I might talk it over with him! But I knew he would not return till late in the afternoon; and Miles and Roger were so little. Besides, Roger was always making odd remarks, and saying just the thing one did not want him to say. There was no telling what he might repeat before Sir Harry or my father; for Roger never knew what it was to be afraid of anybody, and he had a way of looking at you solemnly, with his head first on one side and then on the other, and then coming out suddenly, in his slow grave voice, with some observation that from any of the rest of us would have sounded most impertinent, but which, from him, only sent people into fits of laughter. No! it would not do, I decided, to consult Miles and Roger. I must keep my conjectures to myself till I could be alone with mamma. She might perhaps tell me something, if there was anything to tell. I saw nothing of her, however, till dinner, which was in the middle of the day, not at eight o'clock in the evening: that was our supper-hour. We generally dined all together, even when my father was at home; but now that Sir Harry was in the house, I was rather afraid that we should be condemned to have dinner in the nursery. That might be all very well for the little boys; but for me, the eldest of the family, mamma's companion, to be classed with them, would be too humiliating. So I fussed and fidgeted, snapped at my brothers, and made nurse quite angry, and good-humoured Rebecca almost cross, by perpetually teasing them to know whether they thought I should be allowed to dine down-stairs. At length a man's step was heard on the staircase, and, when the door opened, who should be seen but my father! Nurse jumped up as if she thought the house must be on fire; Rebecca upset her work-basket and knocked down the fire-irons; and Miles and I stopped in the middle of a furious quarrel about a drum, which he wanted to turn into a cage for dormice. No wonder my father created such a sensation in the nursery; for never before had he been seen there, since I could remember, except once, when Oliver had swallowed a bullet, and was supposed to be dying. "Come down with me, Frances," said he, not deigning to observe the commotion he had excited. He held out his hand, and I sprang towards him, casting a triumphant glance at Miles and Roger as I did so. But my father, instead of taking me at once down-stairs, surveyed me all over so critically that I hung down my head and blushed crimson, painfully conscious of a large hole recently torn in my dress, and of hair which might have been brushed that morning, but which looked as if it had not been touched for a week.

'"Go and tell nurse to make you fit to be seen, child," said he in his usual cold, measured tones; "and then you can come with me."

'Of course nurse was excessively elaborate in her proceedings after this injunction. I thought she never would have done combing and curling my unfortunate locks, or arranging and smoothing each plait and fold of my best dress. But at last it was over, and I suppose the result was satisfactory; for though my father led me away without a word, Sir Harry Mountfort turned to my mother when we entered the dining-room, and said something about "a sweet little bride," and "hoping to see a coronet on those pretty dark tresses,"--remarks which, while they puzzled me exceedingly, caused me to hold up my head and colour with surprise and pleasure.

'I had never heard so many compliments before, and felt rather vexed that mamma only smiled very faintly, and immediately began to talk about something else--about a certain Earl Desmond, in whom both she and my father appeared to be greatly interested, though I, who had never heard his name before, could not care about him. So I let my thoughts wander off to all kinds of subjects. I wondered what sort of a day's sport Oliver and Shad were having,--whether Hebe was as sorry as I was, to be cheated of her day with the hounds; and then I wondered afresh what Sir Harry's mysterious words could mean. Perhaps it would be as well to listen to what was going on, in case I might be able to glean something from the conversation about myself. So I turned my eyes away with an effort from the sunny slope of green, swelling down, on which they were gazing (you know the view from the window of the oak parlour), and fixed them on Sir Harry just as he was saying:

'"Ah, your daughter will have a splendid position at court one day, I doubt not, madam. The Earl of Desmond's ancient title and large estates must give him a good deal of political influence, even if he does not turn out, as I think he will, a man with a pretty strong character of his own."

'The Earl of Desmond still! But what could he have to do with me? And how, oh how, was I to have a splendid position at court through his means? I did not dare to ask, as one of you would have done; for to speak in the company of one's elders, without being spoken to, was a proceeding unthought of in those days. I could only glance from Sir Harry's to my mother's face, and then for the first time I noticed how sad and anxious it looked. Her eyes, too, had a red rim round them, as if she had been crying. What could be the reason?

'"That she may be good and happy, sir, is all I desire for her," replied she; "and that I trust she may be, in whatever position she is placed."

'"With such a mother, she cannot be otherwise than good," replied Sir Harry, with a little bow. "And as for happiness, she will have all that people covet most, to give it her,--rank, wealth, beauty."

'And here, I suppose, Sir Harry caught sight of me gazing at him with eyes rounded by astonishment; for he broke off what he was saying, to ask me if I had forgiven him yet for spoiling my ride, and whether I would do him the great favour of showing him the fox's brush I had told him about, etc. etc. He certainly was very good-natured, and treated me more like a woman than any one had ever done before. He asked me to take wine with him, and bowed with so much deference, that I felt quite shy and uncomfortable for a moment. He asked about all my plays and studies, seemed quite interested in hearing of the delights of going fishing with Oliver and Roger, in stories about the young hawks which Miles and I were bringing up between us, and in the brood of rabbits which belonged to us all. Then he wanted to know if I was fond of music; if I could sing or play or dance; and, for the first time in my life, I felt rather ashamed of being obliged to say no to all these questions.

'"But you would like to learn, would you not?" said Sir Harry when we arrived at this point in the conversation, putting another bunch of grapes on my plate as he spoke.

'"Yes; I think I should, if mamma would let me;" and I looked doubtfully in her direction. But it was my father who replied.

'"Liking has nothing to do with it. Frances will of course learn whatever is necessary for her future rank and station. There is plenty of time: the child is only ten years old, I believe."

'"Eleven in May," I could not help whispering though dreadfully frightened at my own boldness; and I suppose mamma thought I had gone quite far enough, for she rose to leave the room, signing to me to follow her; which I did willingly enough, eager to escape the displeasure which I felt sure I read in my father's eyes, and hoping that now at last I should hear the meaning of all the mysteries which had puzzled me that morning. Mamma looked very grave, as she took my hand and led me into that little room which your uncle now calls his "laboratory," I believe, and which smells of sulphur and gunpowder, and all kinds of dreadful things. It never smelt of anything worse than dried lavender and rose leaves in my time; for it was mamma's own sitting-room, where she heard me my lessons, gave orders to the servants, and did all kinds of things, which the present Lady Dalrymple would leave to her housekeeper. I began to think that the something, which I felt sure was going to be revealed to me, was some dreadful misfortune, when she kissed me, and said:

'"My little Frances is longing to know what we were all saying at dinner-time about her, is she not?"

'"Yes--oh yes, madam. What is it? What did Sir Harry Mountfort mean by saying that I should have a splendid position at court some day? And what did----?" Here I stopped abruptly, for there were certainly tears in mamma's eyes, though she tried to smile, as she told me to bring my stool to her side, and she would tell me all about it.

'"You heard us talking about the Earl of Desmond, Frances," she said, smoothing my hair softly back from my forehead as I leant against her. "He is a boy of about fourteen, an orphan, and Sir Harry Mountfort is his guardian. Sir Harry is a great friend of your father's; and for various reasons which you would not understand, even if I told them to you, he has proposed that a marriage shall take place between you and his ward. Your father has consented; and he brought Sir Harry down here to-day to inform me of their plans, and to make various arrangements which are necessary, before the wedding can take place."

'"Wedding! Then I am to be married now?--soon?--not wait till I am grown up?" I asked eagerly.

'"I believe so; before very long, at any rate," said my mother. And I sat silent, trying to take it all in, for at least two whole minutes. Confused and surprised as I felt, I was not quite so much taken aback as Silvia would be if her uncle informed her that a like event was to happen to her; for I had often heard mamma talk about the little Princess Mary, the sister of the reigning king, Charles II., who had been married when she was only eleven years old.

'Moreover, my own mother's wedding had taken place when she was but fifteen, while a little cousin of hers had been a bride at nine.

'"Married to the Earl of Desmond!" I repeated slowly. "Then, shall I have to manage a house, and have keys, and settle the dinners, and order the servants, like you, mamma?"

'"Not for a great many years to come, I hope, Frances. I don't think you are quite fit for that at present, are you?"

'"I could order dinner, I think," said I; a momentary vision coming across me of myself in a sweeping gown just like mamma's, with mittens on my arms, a large apron with pockets in it, a chatelaine hanging by my side, and jingling an immense bunch of keys while I discoursed to the maids about bleaching the linen on the bowling-green, or to the men about the brewing; or perhaps gave away medicine, food, and advice to the poor people on Lord Desmond's estates. I gave it up with a little sigh, for I had a great desire to be considered a woman; and then, a fresh view of the case suddenly occurring to me, I cried: "Oh mamma, what shall I be called when I am married? Shall I be Lady Desmond, just as you are Lady Dalrymple?"

'"You will be Frances Carey Countess of Desmond, of higher rank than I am, my child. I am only the wife of a baronet: you will be the wife of an earl."

'This piece of grandeur filled my foolish little head with such a sense of elation, that I was on the point of running away directly to tell the news to nurse and my brothers; but a glance at mamma's face stopped me. "Don't you like my being Countess of Desmond, mamma?" I ventured to ask, a sort of vague fear coming into my heart for the first time. "They won't take me away from you, will they?" I took hold of her hand and held it very tight.

'"No, no," cried my mother in a voice which sounded as if she was angry with me; and yet she held me very close all the time. "You will be my Frances, my only daughter, just the same. A wife's duties are the same, in whatever station she is placed: and who can teach you to love, honour, and obey your husband, as well as I can? But what am I talking of!" she added in a different tone, seeing that I was looking at her, very much puzzled.

'Mamma, who was usually so quiet and composed, had a bright colour in her cheeks, and was talking faster and louder than I had ever heard her in my life before. She smiled when she saw how surprised I looked, and said, more in her natural voice:

'"You are too young, Frances, to understand quite what I was thinking about. I could have wished that your marriage could have been put off till you were old enough to know your own mind; but your father says it must take place at once. Of course he knows best; so that may be considered as settled. All I want you to remember is, that the promise you make on your wedding day you will some day be called upon to fulfil. And now run away and tell the others all about it."

'I said "yes;" but I do not think I quite took in all mamma meant, so eager was I to obey the last part of her commands and tell my wonderful news to the boys. I could not find any one in the nursery but nurse and Rebecca, who were quite as much surprised and struck with my tidings as I could have wished. Nurse said, "Mercy on us! Dear heart alive!" three times over, and then begged I would not forget my poor old nursey when I was a grand madam; while Rebecca took to calling me "my lady" from that day forward, till mamma discovered it and stopped her. But where were the boys? I cared much more for what Oliver thought of the matter than for the opinion of any one else in the world. And, besides--though I liked it--I found the servants' sudden respect rather embarrassing. Miles and Roger were out-of-doors, nurse said, "in some pickle or another," she'd "warrant them." Her words were certainly prophetic; for, after a long hunt, I discovered Miles on the top branch of a very rotten old ash tree, which overhung the deepest part of the pond in the park; endeavouring with a long looped string to catch the sails of his favourite toy boat, which had floated far away from the shore; while Roger, on the very edge of the steep bank, was making violent efforts to reach it with the end of a slender pole.

'Nothing I could say would induce them to come away, till I announced that I saw Shad and Oliver riding into the stable-yard, and proposed that we should race to meet them, and ask Shad to rescue the unhappy boat. Roger set off directly, and Miles got out of the tree so quickly that I really thought he must tumble into the pond in doing so. He scrambled down safe, however, with very green clothes and a very red face; and after a rush across the park, and a few words with Oliver, the two carried off the good-natured Shad between them, and I was left alone with my eldest brother. He was in very high spirits, and whenever I tried to begin my story, burst in with some new description of the run.

'"What a pity you didn't come, Frances!" said he at last. "By the by, what did my father want with you?"

'"That is just what I have been trying to tell you ever since you came in," said I pettishly; "but you would not listen; and I'm sure it's much more important than about the fox getting into Farmer Grimley's yard, or how you rode down all the pigs."

'"Why, what can it be?" said Oliver, looking intensely surprised. "You generally like to hear about all those sort of things so much, Frances."

'"Yes, yes, I know; but oh! Oliver, what do you think of this? I am going to be married to the Earl of Desmond!" Oliver opened his eyes so wide for a moment that I thought he would never be able to shut them again, and then, much to my astonishment and, I am afraid, disgust, went off into a hearty fit of laughter.

'"You going to be married! Oh Frances, I can't believe it! What can the Earl of Desmond want to marry you for?" I do not think Oliver meant to be rude, but brothers are not over particular; and I felt deeply offended. I, who had been treated with so much attention by my father's friend, who had been taken into mamma's confidence, and who was about soon to become, as I phrased it to myself, "a married woman," was I to be laughed at by a little boy a whole year younger than myself?

'"And pray, why should he not want to marry me?" said I, drawing myself up to my full height. "But, of course, one cannot expect a child of your age to understand anything about it; so I was wrong to expect it." And I walked away, with what I then thought an exact imitation of mamma's most dignified manner, imagining that Oliver must be completely crushed by this cutting reply. But he only laughed (it is impossible to put Oliver out of temper) and said:

'"Come, Fan, you needn't be quite so scornful. Of course I want to hear all about it. Who is the Earl Desmond? Not that gentleman who came here to-day, surely?"

'"No," said I, slightly softened, but still, I am afraid, rather patronizing; "he is a boy a year or two older than I am, Oliver--about fourteen, I believe."

'"You don't mean it?" cried he, very much excited. "I fancied he was grown-up. Is he coming here? will he live here? Oh Frances! I always did wish you were a boy; but of course, if you marry this Earl of Desmond, he will be my brother. I always did want another brother, Miles and Roger are so little. By the by, what is his name?"

'I did not know; and Oliver went on with a string of questions, all relating to my future husband, not one of which was I able to answer; for, to say the truth, though my head had been full of my marriage ever since I had heard of it, the bridegroom himself had hardly entered into my thoughts at all.

'"Why, Fan, how stupid of you!" cried Oliver at last, after listening to about a dozen "don't knows" in succession. "You don't seem to know anything. I can't think why you did not ask mamma more questions while you were about it. Girls are generally curious enough at any rate about other people's business. You might at least have found out whether he is to come here, or whether you are to go and live in his house. I declare I shall ask mamma myself to-night."

'"No, Oliver; indeed you had much better not. Do you know I think mamma is very unhappy about it?"

'"Unhappy! Then, of course, that must be because you are going away."

'"No, I don't know; but I have an idea that I am not going away, because, from what mamma said just now----"

'"Well, what did she say? Come, dear old Fan, you always tell me everything." And Oliver put his arm round my neck and pulled me down on a stone trough by the edge of the horse-pond--not the kind of seat, I think, that nurse would have chosen for the future Countess of Desmond, especially when that young lady had on her quilted scarlet kirtle and new silver-grey gown, worked with wheat and poppies. When Oliver rubbed his curly, yellow head against my cheek and called me "dear old Fan," I never could resist him, even when I was really out of humour; so, giving up the grand airs that I had been trying to assume, I sat by his side on the horse-trough and told him all that mamma had been saying about teaching me to love, honour, and obey my husband, and about my being called upon some day to fulfil the promises which I should make at my marriage.

'"It's the having to obey him that will be the worst part," was Oliver's first remark after we had both pondered silently for a moment. "That's just what you will particularly hate, Fan. I'm sure you'll never keep that part of the promise. Why, you never were over-fond of obeying any one except mamma."

'This was a slight drawback, certainly, when one came to think about it. Oliver was right in his opinion that I dearly loved my own way,--and, with my brothers and Shad, I generally contrived to get it: for to the boys I made the most of my privileges as the eldest and the only girl; and as to Shad, he was the one person in the house who was willing to let us all have our own way. But then there were so many people to keep us in order. When there was mamma, my father, Master Waynefleet, not to mention old nurse, one certainly did not want any one else to command one's obedience.

'"Oh, of course, one's husband would be different," I said a little bit doubtfully, nevertheless. "You know mamma always obeys my father, though I don't think she quite likes it; at least not always. Do you know she said to-day that she wished I could have waited till I was older, to be married, but that papa thought it best that it should be at once. So it must be settled." I did not add, as mamma had done, "till I was old enough to know my own mind." At ten years old, I thought people, of course, must know their own minds; and I felt quite sure that I wanted to be the Earl of Desmond's wife, and that it would be a terrible disappointment to me if anything were to happen to prevent the marriage, or even to put it off till I should be grown-up.

'"Well," said Oliver philosophically, "perhaps people's husbands are different; at all events, that's your business. As long as I'm not forced to obey him, I don't care who does. But, Fan, won't it be good fun when he comes here. Is he very rich? I daresay he'll bring his own horses, and perhaps hounds too, and we can all go out hunting together. I wonder if he cares for fishing?"

'"I think he is very rich and grand," I remarked; "because Sir Harry said something about my having a splendid position at court."

'Oliver's countenance fell rather at this idea. He evidently could not appreciate the delights of "a splendid position at court."

'"Ah, but that would not be for a long while, surely, Fan; very likely not till you are grown-up. Fancy you mincing about in a court dress, just like a peacock, and saying, 'May it please your Majesty,' and flourishing an enormous fan!"

'I was ashamed to confess it to Oliver, but in my secret soul I rather liked this picture of myself in the "splendid position."

'"Yes," continued Oliver, "we shall have good sport if this husband of yours is a pleasant kind of a fellow; but we should have better still, if he was going to take you away with him to live at his own house."

'This speech did not sound like a brotherly one; and it wounded my feelings severely.

'"Really, Oliver," cried I, with flaming cheeks and eyes brimming with tears, "you are very unkind and selfish. I thought you would be glad that I am not going ever so far away, where you would never see me at all."

'"Why, Fan! don't be silly. You always get into such a fume about nothing. I only meant that I might come and stay with you, and we could do everything we chose, and you could order dinner, and sit at the head of the table, and carve, of course; or I could carve for you, and we should have no lessons or cross-grained Master Waynefleets to plague us."

'"Ah, but you would only be able to come now and then," said I more gently, for my anger was a good deal softened down. Oliver's plans for my married life were certainly charming, and threw even the "splendid position" into the shade.

'"There's a good girl! That's the best of you, Fan. If you do put yourself in a fume for nothing, you are out again almost as soon as you are in. Now, you didn't really believe I wanted you to go away? Why you must know how dull it would be here, without you to quarrel with and lord it over the small boys!"

'The idea of such a state of things so melted Oliver, that, as we were quite alone--not even the said small boys in sight--he actually condescended to kiss me, or rather to let me kiss him,--a most unwonted sign of affection on his part; for he generally sturdily refused to be kissed by anybody but mamma (and even to that he submitted with great reluctance), except once a year, on his birthday. So, my good temper being quite restored by this, we sat very happily on our trough, chattering too fast to observe that Oliver's muddy boot was not improving the splendour of the scarlet kirtle, and that the poppy-covered skirt, to the length of at least two inches, was steeping itself in the green water of the horse-pond. Presently the sound of footsteps and voices made us look round; and when the yard-gate opened, and Sir Harry Mountfort and my father suddenly appeared upon the scene, we were so much startled, that Oliver's first exploit was to topple backwards into the trough, while I, with like promptitude, sprang up, plunging one foot ankle-deep into the pond. This was an embarrassing state of things. For the first time I became conscious of the deplorable state of my frock; and when I saw Sir Harry's stare of surprise, not unmixed with amusement, and my father's face of annoyance, I felt inclined to take another and more effectual plunge into the horse-pond, and vanish for ever in its stagnant depths. It really makes me laugh now to remember what a very absurd figure I must have looked, with my fine embroidered dress soaked in muddy water, and my hair blowing about in a mad state of dishevelment, from beneath one of Oliver's most ancient and battered hats, which I had snatched off a peg in the hall as I ran out to look for the boys after dinner. I had never been in the habit of caring much how I looked. Brothers of ten years old are not critical with regard to their sisters' appearance. On the contrary, they make a point of discouraging the least attempt to look "nice" (as you would call it); and as to taking care of their own clothes, or those of other people, why, I should have been withered up with scorn if I had suggested such a notion to my brothers! But I never had. It was only to-day that Sir Harry's compliments, and the prospect of my new dignities, had put it into my head to think about my dress and appearance. The fact that I was a remarkably pretty little girl had never struck me before; and now that I had begun to care for these things, and particularly wished to look my best, here was the bride-elect, the future Countess of Desmond, ignominiously caught splashing about in a stable-yard, drenched in mud and mire, and attired in that shabby, old, high-crowned hat. Oliver told me afterwards that I looked like a witch who had just been ducked. My father surveyed us from head to foot with a curling lip and severe eyes; then he turned, with a short laugh to Sir Harry, and said something in a low voice. The only words I could distinctly hear were: "Just as I told you ... put an end to this;" to which Sir Harry answered with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders, which stung me to such a degree that I forgot all his flattering speeches, and for a moment absolutely hated him.

'"Come here, Frances," my father said; and I obeyed slowly and reluctantly. "What would your mother say, child, if she heard you had been romping with your brother in the stable?"

'"She would not mind, sir; at least, perhaps, she would to-day, because of my holiday gown. But I often come here with Oliver."

'"And we were not romping," interrupted Oliver; "we were only talking; and it was my fault that she has spoiled her kirtle, for I dragged her down on to the trough. Indeed, sir, mamma always lets Fan come here; and she fishes for carp with me sometimes." I was grateful to Oliver for standing up for me; but I could have wished that he had not mentioned the carp just then.

'"Indeed!" was my father's reply. "Well, you had better go up to nurse and tell her to make you look more like a gentlewoman, and less like a strolling-player. A stable-yard is all very well for your brother, but hardly the place where one expects to find a young lady." This was a sentiment in which both nurse and Rebecca most thoroughly agreed; and they continued to enlarge upon it all the time that they were setting me to rights in the nursery.