tenance must have betrayed—“oh, I recognised it directly; the other is an exact copy of this in little, even to the music-book and the name;” and as she spoke she pointed to the corner of the picture where there was a music-book lying on the ground, on the open leaf of which was inscribed in legible characters, Rose Callender. “And,” she continued, “you know it was after her I was christened Rose, though I am always called Clara, because that was my grandmother’s name, old Lady Wellwood. But the strange thing is, that we should find the original picture here. However, I’ll have it brought down to the dining-room, and”
But I could hear no more. I turned my back to avoid her eye, and descended the stairs with tottering steps to the library, where, after shutting myself up for a short time in order to reflect on my situation, my resolution was formed. I wrote a few lines to Clara, saying that circumstances beyond my control obliged me to leave her for a time; that I earnestly requested, and even commanded her, as far as she acknowledged my authority to command, that she would not seek to penetrate the motive of my absence, begging her at the same time to make herself as happy as she could during its continuance.
That very hour I quitted Elfdale, and, proceeding to London, made arrangements with a confidential agent there, whom I had been introduced to by my father when I came of age; and, from that day, I became a wanderer on the face of the earth, leaving my wife in possession of the estate, and ample funds to maintain a suitable establishment.
The unhappiness of my father and mother, the interview I had witnessed in the park betwixt the latter and Sir Ralph Wellwood, her subsequent disappearance, the universal silence regarding her, the abandonment of the neighbourhood which had necessarily become odious to both families, Clara’s utter ignorance with respect to her parentage, my father’s solemn injunction, and that last look of horror, all were explained! The dread secret was revealed; the curse had fallen upon me.
CHAPTER VI.
And now for the story. Rose Callender was the orphan daughter of a poor clergyman, who died while she was at the school where, having lost her mother very early, she was placed for education; and where, being left perfectly destitute, she remained subsequently in the capacity of teacher. It happened that the vicar of our parish had known something of her father, and having two little girls of his own, who needed more superintendence than their mother was willing to bestow on them, he offered her a liberal salary if she would undertake the office, and give them the first rudiments of education.
She accepted the proposal, and whilst in that situation became acquainted with the family at Staughton. The old baronet, Sir Lawrence, grandfather to the young Sir Ralph, introduced to the reader in the last chapter, was then alive and in possession of the estate. Sir Ralph, the father of the lad, and husband of Lady Wellwood, was his only boy, and when home from school or college used to be sent to read with the vicar, and thus had many opportunities of seeing Rose, with whom, as was natural, he fell desperately in love. Whether this love ever ripened into a positive engagement, I am unable to say; but there is every reason to believe that it was reciprocated with more or less ardour by the poor orphan. But Sir Lawrence was not a man to hear of such an alliance; he had himself, late in life, married the daughter of an earl, and he expected no less a match for his son. No suspicion, therefore, was entertained in regard to the young governess, of whom the old gentleman heard little and saw less, being wholly confined to his arm-chair by gout and rheumatism, and general declining health.
Nevertheless, there was one member of the family, besides young Ralph, with whom Rose was on terms of intimacy, and she it was who had brought them together. This was his cousin, Emily Wellwood, the daughter of a spendthrift captain in the line, who was then abroad with his regiment, and so overwhelmed with debt that he was never likely to return. The girl was therefore dependent on Sir Lawrence; who, when his health failed, and his wife was dead, sent for her to Staughton to nurse him. This young lady was neither very handsome, nor, indeed, very juvenile, for though her father was the younger brother of the baronet, he had married while almost a boy. She was, therefore, much older than Ralph, in spite of which disadvantage she thought it by no means impossible that by good management she might become his wife. Poor and dependent, proud and ambitious, unscrupulous and clever, she considered the enterprise not very difficult, if once Sir Lawrence was out of the way; but she was too well acquainted with his character and intentions to risk anything by a premature betrayal of her scheme.
Rose Callender’s arrival in the neighbourhood, and Ralph’s evident admiration disturbed and alarmed her; and, of course, generated a secret enmity which she was much too wise to disclose. On the contrary, she disguised it under an assumed cordiality, while she assiduously cultivated her intimacy and encouraged her confidence.
Affairs were in this position when my father, Reginald Herbert, who had been absent with his regiment, returned to Elfdale. He had not long before come into possession of the estate, and was intending to sell out of the service; indeed, he had given notice at the Horse Guards of his wish to retire. Naturally, his first visit was to his nearest neighbour, Sir Lawrence,; but it happened that the baronet, who had passed a bad night, was still in bed, and Miss Wellwood received him. She had been aware that he was expected, and had seen how his arrival might possibly promote her views. Accordingly, she took an early opportunity of directing the conversation to the vicarage, and announcing the appearance there of one of the most beautiful creatures she had ever beheld—she could afford to praise her now, for young Ralph was absent at college—amiable and accomplished too, in the highest degree; but when Colonel Herbert said, smilingly, that he should take care to see this rara avis, she shook her head and answered; “you had better not; for you’ll fall