CHAPTER VI. "I had my wish and way : My days were strewn with flowers There was no month but May; But with my years did sorrow twist and grow, HERBERT. MR. LESTER persevered in his intention of leaving us on the following day, though my mother brought forward many arguments to induce him to prolong his visit. He had a long interview with my father during the morning; and immediately after our early dinner he took leave of us, carrying his granddaughter away with him. Nesta and I were not very sorry to see her go, for we had spent a tedious morning in trying in vain to amuse her. My mother had a headache, and retired to her room when our visitors left us. Our father shut himself up again in his study, and we children spent one of those idle, talking afternoons that people often inflict on themselves when a long-talked-of visit is over. We were all engaged to spend the evening at the house of one of the under-masters of B- School. My mother was usually rather fond of going out in the evening, but her headache made her feel indisposed for any exertion, and I easily obtained permission to stay at home and make tea for her. I felt very happy when, after wrapping Nesta up well for an evening walk, and seeing her depart with my father and the boys, I returned to my mother's little dressing-room, to prepare the table for a delightful cosy tête-à-tête tea. I really had not stayed at home from any interested hope of having a private talk with my mother about the Lesters; but as the evening passed on, my mother professed herself so much better, and showed such a disposition to be communicative, that I felt now, if ever, was the time to have my curiosity fully satisfied. "Mr. Lester looks old and sad," I began, "and yet he lives at Morfa." "At Morfa, but not in the old house," my mother answered. "I hope I am not superstitious, but I cannot help thinking that the new house brought a curse with it. After he thought of building that grand house, he was always striving to be grander and higher, and to live with greater people than himself. Yes, I can trace it all back to that. Three months after my poor father died, the old garden wall began to be pulled down. Ah dear! ah dear!" "I think it was cruel," I put in hotly, "to make you stay and see it done." "It was not done when I was there; only one little bit of the garden wall, at least. When the workpeople began to come near the house, we moved out of it. My uncle took a house for us at a place about twelve miles from Morfa, Tann y Bryn (the house under the Hill). It was under a hill, in a kind of hollow. We had a great green mountain behind us, and before us, the woods and rising grounds that led up to Lord Denbigh's castle, Penhammon. You have heard me speak of it. Yes; and it was from living near Penhammon that the intimacy between Mr. Lester and the Earl's family grew up-that intimacy that led to so much sorrow. If we had not gone to live close to their grounds, Mr. Lester would not have seen much of the Denbighs, and his plan about Lady Helen would never have taken such strong hold on his mind." "What plan?" I ventured to ask. "My dear, I hardly know whether I ought to speak about it to you. It is not quite easy to make you understand; you know so little, happily, of the way in which people of the world speak and think— of the importance which they attach to money and rank. Mr. Lester had always had plenty of money, but till he came to Morfa he had never lived in what is called good society; and it was thought at one time a great condescension on the part of my mother's sister to marry him—indeed, she offended all her own family by doing so. The Welsh county families looked down upon Mr. Lester, and would not visit him when he first came to Morfa. So, perhaps, it was no wonder that he was pleased and proud when the Denbighs noticed him and made much of him. I can remember quite well how the friendship grew closer and closer day by day. Lady Helen and her mother returned to Penhammon from London a week or so after we settled at the cottage, and soon there was hardly a morning when their little pony carriage did not stop at our door." "Lady Helen! Mr. Carr's mother? Oh, mamma, do tell me what she was like then." "She was not pretty; she had been overtiring herself in London, and she looked very faded and pale, when I first saw her-not a pretty sort of pale ness, like Nesta's-a want of colour all over her face; but though she was not pretty, there was something about her more taking than any prettiness. I can't describe it; she was always saying or looking something that one did not expect. Mr. Lester was quite charmed with her; though he was so cold and reserved to most people, he took her into his confidence at once; and used to consult her about the designs for the new house at Morfa. I have seen her sitting for hours before a table covered with plans; when perhaps, she had her riding-habit on and she had said she could only stay two minutes. She used to get interested, and throw off her hat and draw little pictures on the margins of the great drawings with her pencil; and her face, though she had no colour, got a sort of light upon it that made one wonder as one looked. I suppose it was her great interest in the new house that made Mr. Lester wish that she should one day be its mistress-perhaps some such thought had come into her own head. I don't want to judge her, but, at all events, all that summer she was more like a daughter to Mr. Lester than a person he had only known a few months. I found out what was passing in Mr. Lester's mind by the impatience he showed for his son to come home, and the disap |