19

BERTRAM; OR, THE HEIR OF PENDYNE.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE winter so casually mentioned in the commencement of our last chapter had passed gently away at Pendyne Castle, and now the summer was drawing to its close. It was the month of August. London had been requiring the attendance of the Earl in a very peremptory manner; but Lady Pendyne and Adela were still remaining in Cornwall. Friends, such friends as the high and titled oftenest make, had departed at the commencement of the season; relatives, favouring the recluses, had some of them remained until May. But in May the Castle was deserted by all its visitors, and until now the Countess had made no plans concerning their successors. She had been fully occupied in carrying out the Earl's arrangements for the benefit of the town, and in visiting in the cottages and the schools; and save for her husband's absence, she had been happy. Had been happy; but a change had come now, and the presence of that husband was needed to recall the smiles, or to make new plans if his presence alone should not suffice.

She needed him, and he was coming. He was returning now, in whose prolonged absence not Adela herself had power to make her mother happy. But to-day she could look bright and smile, and listen and expect in peace.

'Oh, how I do long for dear Papa to come! And so do you, darling Mamma, quite as much, I know. You will be so happy again. Did you tell him that you were beginning to feel very dull?'

They were sitting in the Countess's morning-room up-stairs, the oriel window of which commanded on one side a partial view of the road. Adela's face and finger were pressing against the mullioned stone frame. 'No, my love,' rejoined the Countess, in reply to her little daughter's question. 'I did not tell him; it would have been so selfish. Papa must fulfil his engagements, and it would not have been right for him last month to leave his place in the House. If I had been equal to it, we ought to have gone with him.'

'But you were not quite equal to it, and Papa quite understood. Why can he return sooner than he at first intended?'

'He says, darling, that his most important business is over now, and he thinks he can be spared.'

'He is not so happy without us.'

'No, love, never. Another time we will try to go with him.'

'Was it unkind, dear Mamma, that I felt a little glad that we were not to go?'

'I think not, love. You would not have wished to remain had our plan been to leave Pendyne together. And it is more convenient that you should be satisfied with things as they are.'

'If you had said we were to go, very likely it would have seemed quite pleasant. Perhaps poor Papa has been very dull himself; but he shall not be dull now.'

Certainly not, love; but I do not think he can have been dull, he has had such incessant engagements.'

'And the engagement of choosing me a governess amongst the rest. Oh, darling Mamma, if I thought he would bring the new governess home with him, I do not think I could bear it!'

'Oh yes, you could, love, very well; but you are quite safe, since Miss Murrer will not be disengaged until after next week.' 'Then I can breathe, Mamma, if you are sure. And now, if you please, we will listen for the gun. How I do long to hear it!' 'Yes; let us do so. But, Ada love, I wish you would not talk of the new governess as if she were something odious. It will not be the way to make her happy here; and it is not right. Remember too how very much you liked Miss Austin, and that you cried when she was obliged to leave us.'

'Yes. I loved her, dear Mamma, and I love her now; but we can never have another Miss Austin.'

'Wait, love, and see, instead of beginning with a wrong and silly prejudice.'

'Yes, darling Mamma; but I have had no governess lately; and it is pleasant to be so free, and to be always with you. But do let us listen for the gun.'

The gun was a diminutive piece of ordnance mounted on the embattled roof of the old Market-house in the town; and it was the practice to fire it off when the Earl's carriage passed a particular piece of road at a great distance, where it was visible for a moment and then again lost to view. The natives were happy in having discovered something that they could do to celebrate each return of the family, since 'my lord' did not 'approve' of the Church bells.

'There is the gun! I heard it!' Adela started up and embraced her mother by way of exhibiting her joy. 'And now what an age we shall have to wait, for he will always come through the town, I know.'

There was a bye-lane which shortened the route a little, but as Adela observed, the Earl would always come through the town. He liked the greetings, for all the people turned out to see him, and their welcome came from the heart, he knew.

Now the telescope,' cried Adela, and she ran to fetch it. Make it right for me, dearest Mamma, if you please. I see something.... I do see something. . . . Four horses! it is Papa! and now I can see him and another gentleman in the carriage! Oh, not Uncle Bertram, darling Mamma, is it?'

'No, love. It is Dr. Longford. Papa is bringing him here for a day or two, on his way to Penzance.'

'And now I see Baron,' exclaimed the excited child, still looking through the glass. 'He must have started off when he heard the gun, just as he did when we were coming home last year.'

'I dare say he did. He is so clever a doggie. Give me the glass, love, now.'

'It is too late, dear Mamma, they are behind the wood. We must listen for the wheels now, and then he will be here.'

They listened quietly until they heard the sound, and then they descended the stair-case, and the happy meeting came-husband, wife, and child. They knew they might forget the visitor for an instant. Only for an instant, and then came the presentation.

The Countess looked at the great man, and wondered at the youthfulness of his appearance.

He was not, however, so very young, only his look was deceptive, and most of us in guessing ages, have made a mistake of ten or twelve years, occasionally, by reason of this. Dr. Longford was proposing a Cornish tour, but his visit to the Castle was owing to a certain subpoena from Lord Pendyne, who desired that his Countess should have the benefit of his opinion, in case the occasional depression should be from any more serious cause than the traces of the old anxiety.

It seemed to Dr. Longford as though this visit might not be the least agreeable feature in his holiday. After the first half hour at the Castle, he decided that it would be a ray of its very brightest sunshine.

He might, however, have to forego for that brief space the mention of his favourite study. Dr. Longford was a geologist, and expected great gratification from his travels in this interesting locality. He was wise enough, nevertheless, to be aware that there can scarcely be another science so dull to the uninitiated; and such a man as Dr. Longford was not likely to be the hero of but one idea.

There was so much to hear, so much to say. No wonder if the hour before the first bell appeared to shrink into but half.

'And, Anna, love, I have brought you a present. I do hope you will admire it as much as I do. Else I shall feel quite selfish in having made the purchase. But the impulse to carry off such a prize was so strong, that I really could not, or more truly perhaps, would not, resist it. And I never spent so much upon a gift for you before, love.'

'Not jewels, Clement?'

'No, no, love; my memory is too good. Did you not tell me soon after our wedding-day that you never would wish for any more. It is a larger present, so that you must even come to the mountain' after dinner, if you will, and Ada too.'

The Countess gave one of her sweetest smiles, her usually thoughtful and somewhat melancholy expression passing for the moment away, as she looked lovingly at her devoted husband.

The Earl continued, Will it be a disappointment?-To you, Ada,

perhaps, for you are preparing for so great an astonishment, I can see. It is not a doll, my love, nor any plaything.'

'Playthings for Mamma, dearest Papa!

And I do not care for dolls.

I would much rather the present should be chickens or white cats, something to speak to and pet. Is it alive?"

'No, Adela, it is not, and I fear you will be disappointed. And you have seen something very like it before, and so has Mamma. Wait for the unpacking.'

And Lady Pendyne said, 'I must indeed learn, Clement, what you have been doing with so much money.'

There was no addition' to the quiet party at dinner; nor did anyone feel this to be a subject of regret. And an inquiry by the Countess, 'Are you interested in geology?' shewed to Dr. Longford that he had found congenial minds. An animated conversation followed, and valuable assistance was promised towards the guest's farther researches in the county.

'You shall see our small museum here to-morrow, should you be so inclined,' said the Earl, addressing his guest; 'my father was a collector of specimens in a humble way, and so am I. Sometimes it occurs to me that I ought to be liberal, and make a donation of them to Penzance.'

And the conversation did not change to another topic until the Countess had retired. Then the Earl drew his chair nearer to his guest, to discourse upon the subject which had brought him to the Castle of Pendyne. Dr. Longford had, so far, perceived nothing to be amiss, and he said so. To-morrow, he would ask for a better opportunity of informing himself by an interview.

'But the love of solitude must be discouraged if it terminated in depression,' continued he; it would have been better for the Countess to have accompanied you upon your visit to London.'

'The Castle has been full of visitors many times,' replied the Earl, 'up to the middle of May, and I am assured that until a recent period there were no signs of the depression having returned.'

'There are no signs now, I hope and believe,' said Dr. Longford. 'It must all have vanished at the firing of that gun.'

'I hope so, most earnestly. But it was kind of my friend and chaplain to give me a hint. And now I must remember the present. Should you object to accompanying me to the picture room, since I cannot permit the unpacking to take place without me; or would you prefer the drawingrooms ?'

'I will accompany you, if you please, and renew my acquaintance. No one can ever tire of the productions of such a man's genius.'

The Earl rang the bell.

'Let Davis wait for me in the picture-hall, ready to unscrew the packing case.'

Thither they had adjourned, calling for the Countess and Adela on their

way.

Lord

The picture-hall was a large and admirably proportioned room. Pendyne would not have it called a picture gallery, although the walls were adorned with portraits of every Treneer since painters had been found to record their faces upon canvas either at home or abroad. 'A very interesting collection,' observed Dr. Longford, although I suppose we must concentrate our attention just now.'

They were watching the removal of the screws.

'I see by the case now,' observed the Countess, it is a picture.' 'Right, Anna, love; only there should be two, if I am well treated,' replied her husband; and the case being now open, the two lovely paintings which had been employing our artist during the time of little Amy's sittings appeared, and were placed upright for inspection.

The Countess uttered an exclamation of delight, and then another of surprise; and Lord Pendyne took Adela by the hand, and placed her between the two paintings.

'It is Is it Adela? but it is so much younger. And when could it have been taken, and in that dress too, without my knowing it? But it puzzles me, Clement, and you really must explain.'

'What says Dr. Longford?' inquired the Earl, turning to his guest.

'I should certainly have thought them to be portraits of Lady Adela,' replied Dr. Longford, 'but they would appear to have been taken a year or two ago or a younger daughter-only I believe-'

'Yes,' said the Countess, in a low voice to her husband; 'my precious baby, my own sweet darling, that would be her age now.—Oh, Clement, Clement, will she be like this when I see her sweet countenance again?' 'Far more radiant, dearest, in the eternal loveliness of Heaven; but nevertheless you know

Her "age I cannot tell; For they measure not by years and months where she is gone to dwell."

'But it was as Ada's portrait, Anna, love-and Ada of whom I thought, in bringing these to you. Do not let my presents convey to you a note of pain.'

And I do so admire them. Easdale's

'No, it would be ungrateful. children only could charm like this.'

'Yes, of course they are his. And now let me tell you the history,' proceeded the Earl rapidly, endeavouring to efface the allusion of the unconscious visitor. They were exhibited, of course, and they so fascinated me by the likeness to our child, that I could scarcely dwell upon their various other perfections. "Anna must have them," I said, "and I will take them home and surprise her."-Now are they not wonderful, Dr. Longford, for a perfectly accidental resemblance?' continued Lord Pendyne, appealing to his guest.

'Most strikingly so,' answered Dr. Longford.. 'I saw that expression upon Lady Adela's countenance,' pointing to the happier of the two portraits, 'upon your first arriving at home. It is very singular, certainly, but it would give a double interest to the pictures.'