Chapter I: Introduction

Two persons stood on the brow of a hill overlooking an extensive and fertile valley. In this valley lay the properties of two gentlemen, side by side. The houses which were on the outskirts of each domain stood within a mile and a half of each other; but the lands surrounding each habitation spread for miles into the distance on the opposite sides.

The houses were very different in form and feature. One was, or had been, an old feudal castle. Modern additions had at various times been made to the building, but it preserved untouched two massy ivy-crowned towers, which rose up dark and gloomy against the sky. The other house was such a dwelling place as pocket-books exhibit in their portraitures of “country seats.” It was a country seat on a very large scale; nothing more.

Of the two persons mentioned above, the one was a stranger, the other an inhabitant of the district; the latter had been showing off with pride and pleasure the extensive and luxuriant vale in which he lived.

“I could invent a tale about those houses,” the stranger observed, after intently contemplating them. “Nay, I have already invented it. My tale is done.”

“What is your tale?” asked his companion, smiling.

“After all I believe it is such an obvious one that I need not have boasted of my _invention_. One has but to look at those two buildings, and the tale is composed. In that one I see a proud, high-minded, but somewhat forbidding family. In this one exactly the reverse--charm without character. Hate of course springs up between them. Then after hate comes love. A proud, high-minded son falls in love with a charming modern maiden. Then come strifes, and disinheritings, and broken hearts, and then ... either tragedy or comedy. I cannot quite decide on the conclusion of my tale.”

“There is a tale, and not of a very old date, belonging to those houses. It has some features of yours, and yet is not like it. A very simple domestic tale, but one not devoid of interest; that is to say, it will have interest for those who take pleasure in seeing how human beings act under peculiar circumstances; not, perhaps, otherwise, since it is devoid of ‘moving accidents by flood and field,’ hair-breadth escapes, or indeed exciting events of any kind. If you care to hear them, these are the few facts of the story.”

He entered into a short detail of certain events that had taken place in the two families.

His companion listened with interest, then observed, “I like your story better than mine.” He looked again intently at the older building, and after a short silence made some inquiries. “You must enlarge a little upon the facts you told me. For instance, how was it that being as you say so proud a family, so jealous of its honour, so steady and irreproachable in character, the possessions of the Vavasours were so loaded with debt? If all were good, who was the culprit?”

“There was none, properly speaking. Loyalty (perhaps misdirected) was the cause. The old traditions of the family speak of a time of almost princely splendour till the days of the great rebellion. From that time the fortunes have fallen. For Charles I., his son, grandson, and great grandson, heavy mortgages were placed upon the land, and there never was breathing time enough for the property to right itself. Yet no Vavasour ever sold a rood of land, and no son ever complained of the debts his father left him. There was a family fire of enthusiasm and romance in the which supported it in all troubles.”

“And Mr. Vavasour, the father of your story,” inquired the stranger, “he was a regular old Vavasour you say?”

“Yes, a fine character, but quite idolizing in the love and pride he bore to, and had in, his place and family. When he succeeded to _his_ father, he found the property so swallowed up with debt as barely to leave an income necessary for the common expenses of life. He was only just of age, and it was a melancholy prospect. He was advised to sell. The property was not entailed, never had been so; he could do as he pleased; but no Vavasour ever had sold, and he would not. He determined by care and energy to clear off a part at least of the debt, and to raise his house again. For thirty years he lived in that old castle alone, bent on this object. Yet while saving and sparing, he was preserved by that same jealous honour, and lofty character, and strong sense, I suppose, of the responsibilities of his position, from the least taint of parsimony. It was a miraculous escape, but he did escape untouched.”

“And after thirty years. What?”

“He married. He was then fifty. His love story shows the same characteristics as all the rest of the Vavasour history--Romance and strength. At eight and thirty he emerged in some degree from his seclusion, and in society he met a young lady of this county, then seventeen, and in the bloom of a beauty that made her name famous. She was as amiable as she was lovely. He saw her and loved her with the strong tenacious love of the Vavasours, but he gave no sign of what he felt. Fifty was the age, the earliest age he could appoint for a relaxation of his severe life, and he thought he had no right to impose a long delay upon her. He saw her for twelve years beset with suitors, and vehement ones; for while from natural manner she was gracious to all, it seemed as if her heart had still to be won; but he bore it in silence. At fifty he spoke, and found that through those long years she had waited, though almost without hope, for him. He was then grey and careworn, yet no one, I believe, ever thought the marriage unsuitable, and no young marriage was ever such a love marriage as that.”

“I hope she had money.”

“No; that is, nothing beyond a young lady’s portion. It was a part of the Vavasour pride that no member of the family had ever married an heiress.”

“You speak,” said the stranger smilingly, “of the Vavasour pride, and the Vavasour character, as if it was a man--whereas, you mean, I suppose, some generations of men. Were all the Vavasours always alike?”

“A family character is, I believe, no uncommon thing. We see moral, and sometimes immoral qualities running through a whole race. Historians speak of the strong will of the Tudors, and the insincerity and despotic tendencies of the Stuarts. So it seems to have been with the Vavasours. In many lighter qualities no doubt they differed; but with that single exception I mentioned to you, I never heard of one who deviated from the family character. That character I have always thought might be best described by the few words in which Milton describes himself--‘a certain niceness of nature, an honest haughtiness which let envy call pride.’”

“You admire the family character I see, and even the family pride.”

“I do in a great degree. Of all kinds of pride, none seems to me more nearly blameless than that which makes its foundation on the noble qualities, not on the rank and wealth of its ancestors. I only say, however, more nearly blameless, for I believe all pride to be wrong. It is idolatry, and it will inevitably, at some time or other, be found to have a root of bitterness.

“‘That which man makes his god, shall inevitably, at some time, be his tormentor.’ So says Bishop Hall.”

“Yes, and with truth.”

N.B.--The incident which suggested this tale may be found mentioned
in “Burnet’s Life of Sir Matthew Hale.”

THE TWO BROTHERS.