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Title:DynevorTerrace(Vol.I)
Author:CharlotteMYonge
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DYNEVORTERRACE:


OR
THECLUEOFLIFE.

BYTHEAUTHOROF‘THEHEIROFREDCLYFFE,’CHARLOTTEM.
YONGE.


VOLUMEI
Whowisdom’ssacredprizewouldwin,MustwiththefearofGodbegin;
ImmortalpraiseandheavenlyskillHavetheywhoknowanddoHiswill.New
Version.

CHAPTERI.


CHARLOTTE.

Farewellrewardsandfairies,Goodhousewivesnowmaysay,Fornowfoulsluts
indairiesMayfareaswellasthey.BP.CORBET.

Anancientleaflessstumpofahorse-chesnutstoodinthemiddleofadustyfield,
borderedonthesouthsidebyarowofhousesofsomepretension.Againstthis
stump,aprettydelicatefairgirlofseventeen,whoseshortlilacsleevesrevealed
slenderwhitearms,andhertight,plaincaptressesofflaxenhairthatmanya
beautymighthaveenvied,wasbangingacocoa-nutmat,chantingbywayof
accompanimentinasortofcadence—
‘Ihavefoundoutagiftformyfur,Ihavefoundwherethewood-pigeonsbreed;
Butletmetheplunderforbear,Shewillsay—’
‘Hollo,I’llgiveyouashillingfor‘em!’wastheunlooked-forconclusion,
causinghertostartasidewithaslightscream,astherestoodbesideherastout,
black-eyed,round-facedlad,hisruddycheeksandloutishairshowingmore
rusticitythanagreedwithhiskeen,saucyexpression,andmechanic’sdress.
‘Sothat’swhatyoucallbeatingamat,’saidhe,catchingitfromherhands,and
mimickingthetenderclaspofherlittlefingers.‘D’yethinkit’salive,thatyou


useitsogingerly?Lookhere!Giveithimwell!’ashemadeitresoundagainst
thetree,andemitawhirlwindofdust.‘Layitintohimwithsomejollygood
songfittofetchastrokehomewith!Why,IheardmyyoungLordsay,when
Shakspearewasabutcher,heusedtomakespeechesatthecalves,asiftheywas
forasacrifice,oreverhecouldliftaknifeto‘em.’
‘Shakspeare!HeaswroteRomeoandJuliet,andallthat!Heabutcher!Why,he
wasapoet!’criedthegirl,indignantly.
‘IfyouknowbetterthanLordFitzjocelyn,youmay!’saidtheboy.
‘Icouldn’thavethoughtit!’sighedthemaiden.

‘It’sthebestofit!’criedthelad,eagerly.‘Why,Charlotte,don’tyesee,herose
hisself.Anybodymayrisehisselfashasamindtoit!’
‘Yes,I’vereadthatinbookssaidCharlotte.‘Youcan,mencan,Tom,ifyou
wouldbuteducateyourselflikeEdmund!intheOldEnglishBaron.Butthen,
youknowwhosesonyouare.Therecan’tbenocatastrophe—’
‘Idon’twantnone,’saidTom.‘Weareallequalbybirth,sotheoratorproves
withoutadoubt,andwe’llshowitoneofthesedays.ArareladyI’llmakeof
youyet,CharlotteArnold.’
‘Ohush,Tom,Icanneverbealady—andIcan’tstanddawdlinghere--noryou
neither.‘Tisn’trighttowanttobeoutofourstation,thoughIdowishIlivedin
anoldcastle,wherethemaidensworkedtapestry,andheardminstrels,neverhad
nostairstoscour.Come,givememymats,andthankyoukindly!’
‘I’lltake‘emin,’saidTom,shoulderingthem.”Tisbreakfast-hour,soIthought
I’djustrunupandaxyouwhenmyyoungLordgoesuptoOxford.
‘Heisgone,’saidCharlotte;‘hewashereyesterdaytotakeleaveofmissus.Mr.
Jamesgoeslater—’
‘Gone!’criedTom.‘Ifhedidn’tsayhe’dcomeandseemeatMr.Smith’s!’
‘Didyouwanttospeaktohim?’
‘Iwantedtoseehimparticular.There’sathinglaysheavyonmymind.Yousee


thatplacedowninFernydell—there’sasteepbankdowntothewater.Well,my
youngLordwasverykeenaboutbuildingakindofstepsthereinthesummer,
andheandIsettledthestones,andIwastocement‘em.BycomesMr.Frost,
andfindsfaults,whatIthoughthe’dnocallto;soIflingsdownmytrowel,and
wouldn’tgoonforhe!Iwassomortalangry,Iwouldnotgobacktothework;
andIbelievemyLordforgotit—andthenhewentbacktocollege;and
FramptonandGervas,theyputonme,andyouknowhow‘twasIcomeaway
fromOrmersfield.Iwasnotgoingtosayawordtooneofthatlot!butifIcould
seeLordFitzjocelyn,I’dtellhimtheystonesarn’tfixed;andifthefrostgetsinto

‘em,there’llbeaprettygonexttimethere’satolerablishweight!Butthere—itis
hisownlookout!Ifheneverthoughtitworthhiswhiletokeephispromise,and
comeandseeme—’
‘OTom!thatisn’tright!Heonlyforgot—IhearMrs.Becketttellinghimhe’d
forgethisownheadifitwasn’tfixedon,andMr.Jamesisalwaysathim.’
‘Forget!Aye,there’snothinggentlefolksforgetlikepoorfolks.ButI’vedone
withhe!Lethimlookout—Ikeptmypromisestohimlongenough,butifhe
don’tkeephis’n—’
‘Forshame,forshame,Tom!Youdon’tmeanit!’criedCharlotte.‘But,oh!’with
adifferenttone,‘givemethemat!There’stheoldLordandMr.Poyningsriding
downtheterrace!’
‘Iain’tashamedofnothing!’saidthelad,proudly;andasCharlottesnatched
awaythemats,andvanishedlikeafrightenedhare,hestalkedalonglikea
villageHampden,muttering,‘TheoldtyrantshallseewhetherI’mtobe
trampledon!’andwithbothhandsinhispockets,hegazedstraightupintothe
faceofthegraveelderlygentleman,whoneverevenperceivedhim.Hecould
merelybandyglanceswithPoynings,thegroom,andhewassofarfrom
indifferentthathesignificantlylifteduptheendofhiswhip.Nothingcouldmore
havegratifiedTom,whoretortedwithagrimaceandmurmur,‘Don’tyouwish
youmaycatchme?Youjealoussyc—whatistheword,sickofunclesoraunts,
wasit,thattheoratorcalled‘em?He’dsayI’dagoodmissofbeingoneofthat
sort,andthatmyyoungLordthereopenedmyeyesintime.Nobetterthanthe
restof‘em—’
Andtheclockstrikingeight,hequickenedhispacetoreturntohiswork.Hehad
forthetwoorthreepreviousyearsbeennominallyunderthegardenerat


Ormersfield,butreallyasortoffollowerandfavouritetotheyoungheir,Lord
Fitzjocelyn—apositionwhichhadbroughtonhimdislikefromthesuperior
servants,whowerenotpropitiatedbyhisindependentandinsubordinatetemper.

Faultsoneverysidehadledtohisdismissal;butLordFitzjocelynhadplaced
himatanironmonger’sshopinthetownofNorthwold,wherehehadbeenjust
longenoughtobecomeaccessibletothevarioustemptationsofaladinsucha
situation.
Charlottespedhastilyroundtheendoftheblockofbuildings,hurrieddownthe
littlebackgarden,andflewbreathlesslyintoherownkitchen,asahavenof
refuge,butshefoundatall,stiffstarched,elderlywomanstandingjustwithinthe
door,andheardherlastwords.
‘Well!asIsaid,‘tisnoconcernofmine;onlyIthoughtitthepartofafriendto
giveyouawarning,whenIseenitwithmyowneyes!-Ah!heresheis!’as
Charlottedroppedintoachair.‘Yes,yes,Miss,youneednotthinktodeceive
me;IsawyoufromMissMercy’swindow—’
‘Sawwhat?’faintlyexclaimedCharlotte.
‘Youknowwellenough,’wasthereturn.‘YoumaythinktoblindMrs.Beckett
here,butIknowwhatovergoodnaturetoyounggirlscomesto.Prettyuseto
makeofyourfinescholarship,tobeencouragingfollowersandsweethearts,at
thattimeinthemorningtoo!’
‘Speakup,Charlotte,’saidtheotheroccupantoftheroom,apleasantlittlebrisk
woman,withsoftbrown,eyes,aclearpaleskin,andafacesmooth,inspiteof
nearlysixtyyears;‘speakup,andtellMrs.Marthathetruth,thatyounever
encouragednoone.’
Thegirl’sfacewasalloneflame,butsheroseup,andclaspingherhands
together,exclaimed—‘Meencourage!IneverthoughtofwhatMrs.Marthasays!
Idon’tknowwhatitisallabout!’
‘Here,JaneBeckett,’criedMrs.Martha;‘d’yeseewhat‘tistovindicateher!
Willyoutakeherwordagainstmine,thatshe’sbeengossipingthishalfhour
withthatyoungrogueaswasturnedoffatOrmersfield?’
‘TomMadison!criedthegirl,inutteramaze.‘Oh!Mrs.Martha!’



‘Well!Ican’tstop!’saidMartha.‘ImustgetMissFaithfull’sbreakfast!butif
youwasunderme,MissCharlotte,Icantellyouitwouldbebetterforyou!
You’llsupsorrowyet,andyou’llbothrecollectmyadvice,bothofyou.’
WherewiththeCassandradeparted,andCharlotte,throwingherapronoverher
face,begantocryandsobpiteously.
‘Mydear!whatisitnow?exclaimedherkindcompanion,pullingdownher
apron,andtryingtodrawdownfirstone,thentheotherofthearmswhich
persistedinveilingthecrimsonface.‘Surelyyoudon’tthinkmissusorIwould
mistrustyou,orthinkyou’dtakeupwiththelikesofhim!’
‘Howcouldshebesocruel—sospiteful,’sobbedCharlotte,‘whenheonlycame
toaskonequestion,anddidagoodturnformewiththemats.Ineverthoughtof
suchathing.Sweetheart,indeed!Socruelofher!’
‘Blessme!’saidJane,‘girlsusedtothinkitonlycivilitytosaytheyhada
sweetheart!’
‘Don’t,Mrs.Beckett!Ihatetheword!Idon’twantnosuchthing!Iwon’tnever
speaktoTomMadisonagain,ifsuchconstructionsistobeputonit!’
‘Well,afterall,Charlottedear,thatwillbethesafestway.Youareyoungyet,
andbestnottothinkofsettling,specialifyouaren’tsureofonethatissteady
andreligious,andyou’dbetterkeepyourselfup,andnotgetanamefor
gossiping—thoughthere’snoharmdoneyet,sodon’tmakesuchawork.Bless
me,ifIdon’thearhislordship’svoice!Heain’tnevercomesoearly!’
‘Yes,heis,’saidCharlotte,recoveringfromhersobs;‘herodeupasIcamein.’
‘Well,tobesure,heiscometobreakfast!Ihopenothin’samisswithmyyoung
Lord!Imustrunupwithacupandplate,andyou,maketheplacetidy,incase
Mr.Poyningscomesin.You’dbetterrunintothesculleryandwashyourface;
‘tisalltears!You’reaterribleonetocry,Charlotte!’withakind,cheeringsmile
andcaress.
Mrs.Beckettbustledoff,leavingCharlottetorestoreherselftothelittlehandy
pieceofhouseholdmechanismwhichkind,patient,motherlytraininghad
renderedher.



CharlotteArnoldhadbeenfairlyeducatedatavillageschool,andtenderly
broughtupathometillleftanorphan,whenshehadbeentakenintoherpresent
place.Shehadmuchnativerefinementandimagination,which,halfcultivated,
producedacuriousmixtureofromanceandsimplicity.Herinsatiabletastefor
readingwasmeritoriousintheeyesofMrs.Beckett,who,unlearnedherself,
thoughtanybookbetterthan‘gaddingabout,’and,afterhearingherdailyportion
oftheBible,listenedtothemostadventurousromances,withasenseofpleasure
anddutyinkeepingthegirltoherbook.Shelovedthelittlefragileorphan,
taughther,andhadpatiencewithher,andtrustedthetruehighsoundprinciple
whichsherecognisedinCharlotte,amidmuchthatshecouldnotfathom,andset
downalternatelytothescoreofscholarshipandyouth.
Taste,modesty,andtimiditywereguardstoCharlotte.Abroadstarewasterror
toher,andshehadmanyafictitioushorror,aswellasbetter-foundedones.Truly
shesaid,shehatedthebroadwordsMarthahadused.Onewhocravedatrue
knighttobetwittedwithasweetheart!MarthaandTomMadisonwerealmost
equallydistasteful,asconnectedwithsuchareproach;andthelittlemaidendrew
intoherself,promenadedherfancyincastlesandtournaments,keptunderJane’s
wing,andwasupheldbyherasasensible,prudentgirl.

CHAPTERII.

ANOLDSCHOOLMISTRESS.

Ipraisethee,matron,andthydueIspraise,heroicpraiseandtrue;With
admirationIbeholdThygladnessunsubduedandbold.Thylooksandgestures
allpresentThepictureofalifewellspent;OurhumannaturethrowsawayIts
secondtwilightandlooksgay.WORDSWORTH.


UnconsciousofCharlotte’sflightandTom’saffront,theEarlofOrmersfield
rodealongDynevorTerrace—arowofhouseswithhandsomecementedfronts,
tragicandcomicmasksalternatingoverthedownstairswindows,andthecentre


oftheblockadornedwithapedimentandcolonnade;buttherewasanairasif
somethingailedtheplace:thegardenswereweedy,theglassdoorshazy,the
cementstainedandscarred,andmanyofthewindowsclosedanddark,likeeyes
wantingspeculation,orwithmerelythedrearywords‘Tobelet’enliveningtheir
blankgloom.AtthehousewhereCharlottehadvanished,hedrewhisrein,and
openedthegate—notoneoftherustyones—heenteredthegarden,whereall
wastrimandfresh,theshadowofthehouselyingacrossthesward,and
preservingthehoar-frost,which,inthesunshine,wasmeltingintodiamond
dropsonthelingeringChinaroses.
Withoutringorknock,hepassedintoanarrow,carpetlessvestibule,unadorned
exceptbyabeautifulblueWedgewoodvase,andlayingdownhatandwhip,
mountedthebarestaircase,longsincedivestedofallpaintorpolish.Avoiding
thedooroftheprincipalroom,heopenedanotherattheside,andstoodina
floodofsunshine,pouringinfromthewindow,whichlookedoveralltheroofs
ofthetown,tothecoppicesandmoorlandsofOrmersfield.Onthebrightfire
sungakettle,awhitecatpurredonthehearth,acanarytwitteredmerrilyinthe
window,andthelightsmiledonalanguishingDresdenshepherdessandher
loveronthemantelpiece,anddancedontheceiling,reflectedfromabeautifully
chasedsilvercream-jug—aninconsistentcompanionforthehomelyblackteapot
andwillow-patternedplates,thoughthetwocupsofrareIndianporcelainwere
notunworthyofit.Thefurniturewasthesamemixtureoftheordinaryandthe
choice,eitherwornandshabby,orsuchaswouldsuitavirtuoso,butthewhole
arrangedwithtasteandcarethatmadetheeffectbright,pleasant,and
comfortable.LordOrmersfieldstoodonthehearth-rugwaiting.Hisfacewas
thatofonewhohadlearnttowait,moreconsideratethanacute,andbearingthe

stampbothoftoilandsuffering,asifgriefhadtakenawayallmobilityof
expression,andleftastern,thoughtfulsteadfastness.
Presentlyaladyenteredtheroom.Herhairwaswhiteassnow,andshecouldnot
haveseenlessthanseventy-sevenyears;butbeautywasnotgonefromher
features—smileswerestillonherlips,brightnessinherclearhazeleyes,
buoyancyinhertread,andalertnessanddignityinhertall,slender,unbent
figure.Therewasnothingsoremarkableaboutherastheelasticityaswellas
sweetnessofherwholelookandbearing,asif,whileshehadsomethingtolove,
nothingcouldbecapableofcrushingher.
‘Youhere!’sheexclaimed,holdingoutherhandtoherguest.‘Youarecometo
breakfast.’


‘Thankyou;Iwishedtoseeyouwithoutinterruptingyourday’swork.Haveyou
manyscholarsatpresent?’
‘Onlyseven,andthreegointoschoolatEaster.JemandClara,wishmeto
undertakenomore,butIshouldsorelymissthelittlefellows.Iwishtheymaydo
measmuchcreditasSydneyCalcott.Hewrotehimselftotellmeofhis
success.’
‘Iamgladtohearit.Heisaverypromisingyoungman.’
‘ItellhimIshallcometohonour,astheolddamewhotaughthimtospell.My
scholarsmaymakeaDr.Busbyofmeinhistory.’
‘IamafraidyourprefermentwilldependchieflyonJamesandyoungCalcott.’
‘Nay,Louistellsmethatheisgoingtoreadwonderfullyhard;andifhechooses,
hecandomorethanevenSydneyCalcott.’
‘If!’saidtheEarl.
Janehereenteredwithanothercupandplate,andLordOrmersfieldsatdownto
thebreakfast-table.Aftersomeminutes’pausehesaid,‘Haveyouheardfrom
Peru?’
‘Notbythismail.Haveyou?’

‘Yes,Ihave.Maryiscominghome.’
‘Mary!’shecried,almostspringingup—‘MaryPonsonby?Thisisgoodnews—
unless,’asshewatchedhisgraveface,‘itisherhealththatbringsher.’
‘Itis.ShehasconsultedthesurgeonoftheLibra,averyableman,whotellsher
thatthereisabsoluteneedofgoodadviceandacolderclimate;andPonsonby
hasconsentedtoletherandherdaughtercomehomeintheLibra.Iexpectthem
inFebruary.’
‘MypoorMary!Butshewillgetbetterawayfromhim.Itrustheisnotcoming!’
‘Nothe,’saidLordOrmersfield.


‘Dear,dearMary!Ihadscarcelydaredtohopetoseeheragain,’criedtheold
lady,withtearsinhereyes.‘Ihopeshewillbeallowedtobewithus,notkeptin
Londonwithhissister.Londondoeshernogood.’
‘Theverypurportofmyvisit,’saidLordOrmersfield,‘wastoaskwhetheryou
coulddomethefavourtosetasideyourscholars,andenablemetoreceiveMrs.
Ponsonbyathome.’
‘Thankyou—oh,thankyou.ThereisnothingIshouldlikebetter,butImust
consider—’
‘ClarawouldfindacompanionintheyoungerMaryintheholidays,andif
JameswouldmakeFitzjocelynhischarge,itwouldcompletetheobligation.It
wouldbebyfarthebestarrangementforMary’scomfort,anditwouldbethe
greatestsatisfactiontometoseeherwithyouatOrmersfield.’
‘Ibelieveitwouldindeed,’saidtheoldlady,moretouchedthantheoutward
manneroftheEarlseemedtowarrant.‘Iwould—youknowIwoulddomyvery
bestthatyouandMaryshouldbecomfortabletogether’—andhervoicetrembled
—‘butyouseeIcannotpromiseallatonce.Imustseeabouttheselittleboys.I
musttalktoJem.Inshort,youmustnotbedisappointed’—andsheputherhands
beforeherface,tryingtolaugh,butalmostovercome.
‘Nay,Ididnotmeantopressyou,’saidLordOrmersfield,gently;‘butIthought,

sinceJameshashadthefellowshipandClarahasbeenatschool,thatyouwished
togiveupyourpupils.’
‘SoIdo,’saidthelady,butstillnotyieldingabsolutely.
‘Fortherest,IamveryanxiousthatJamesshouldacceptFitzjocelynashis
pupil.Ihavealwaysconsideredtheirfriendshipasthebesthope,andotherplans
havehadsolittlesuccess,that—’
‘I’mnotgoingtohearLouisabused!’sheexclaimed,gaily.
‘Yes,’saidLordOrmersfield,withalooknearlyapproachingasmile,‘youare
thelastpersonIoughttoinvite,ifIwishtokeepyournephewunspoiled.’
‘Iwishtherewereanyoneelsetospoilhim!’


‘Forhissake,then,comeandmakeOrmersfieldcheerful.Itwillbefarbetterfor
him.’
‘Andforyou,toseemoreofJem,’sheadded.‘Ifhewereyours,whatwouldyou
saytosuchhours?’
Thelastwordswereaimedatayoungmanwhocamebrisklyintotheroom,and
ashekissedher,andshookhandswiththeEarl,answeredinaquick,brighttone,
‘Shocking,aye.Allowingtosittinguptillone!’
‘Reading?’saidtheEarl.
‘Reading,’heanswered,withasortoflaughingsatisfactionindashingasidethe
approvalexpressedinthequery,‘butnotquiteasyousuppose.Seehere,’ashe
heldupmaliciouslyarailwaynovel.
‘IamafraidIknowwhereitcamefrom,’saidLordOrmersfield.
‘Exactlyso,’saidJames.‘ItwasFitzjocelyn’sdesertionofitthatexcitedmy
curiosity.’
‘Indeed.Ishouldhavethoughthisdesertionsfartoocommontoexciteany
curiosity.’
‘Bynomeans.Healwayshasareason.’
‘Aplausibleone.’

‘Morethanplausible,’criedJames,excitementsparklinginhisvividblackeyes.
‘Ithappensthatthisistheverybookthatyouwouldmostrejoicetosee
distastefultohim—lowmorality,falseprinciples,morbidexcitement,notaline
thatoughttopleaseahealthymind.’—
‘Yetithasinterestenoughforyou.’
‘IamnotFitzjocelyn.’
‘Youknowhowtopleadforhim.’
‘Ispeaksimpletruth,’bluntlyansweredJames,runninghishandthroughhis


blackhair,totheruinofthemorningsmoothness,sothatit,aswellasthewhole
ofhisquick,darkcountenanceseemedtohaveundergoneachangefromsunny
southtostormynorthinthefewmomentssincehisfirstappearance.
Afterashortsilence,LordOrmersfieldturnedtohim,saying‘Ihavebeen
beggingafavourofmyaunt,andIhaveanothertoaskofyou,’andrepeatinghis
explanation,beggedhimtoundertakethetutorshipofhisson.
‘IshallnotbeatlibertyatEaster,’saidJames,‘Ihaveallbutundertakensome
menatOxford.’
‘Oh,mydearJem!’exclaimedtheoldlady,‘isthatsettledbeyondalteration?’
‘I’mnotgoingtothrowthemover.’
‘ThenIshallhopeforyouatMidsummer,’saidtheEarl.
‘Weshallseehowthingsstand,’hereturned,ungraciously.
‘Ishallwritetoyou,’saidLordOrmersfield,stillundaunted,andsoonafter
takinghisleave.
‘Cool!’criedJames,assoonashewasgone.‘Toexpectyoutogiveupyour
schoolathisbeck,tocomeandkeephouseforhimaslongasitmaysuithim!’
‘Nay,Jem,heknewhowfewboysIhave,andthatIintendedtogivethemup.
Youdon’tmeantorefuseLouis?’shesaid,imploringly.
‘IshallcertainlynottakehimatEaster.Itwouldbeamerefarceintendedto
compensatetousforgivinguptheschool,andI’llnotlendmyselftoitwhileI

canhaverealwork.’
‘AtMidsummer,then.YouknowhewillneverletLouisspendalongvacation
withoutatutor.’
‘IhatetobeatOrmersfield,’proceededJames,vehemently,‘toseeFitzjocelyn
browbeatenandcontradictedeverymoment,andmyselfsetupforamodel.I
maystealahorse,whilehemaynotlookoverthewall!Didyouobservethe
inconsistency?—angrywiththepoorfellowfirstforhavingthebook,andthen
fornotreadingthewhole,whileitbecameamiableandpraiseworthyinmeto


burnoutacandleoverit!’
‘Ah!thatwasmyconcern.Itellhimhewouldsinganothernoteifyouwerehis
son.’
‘I’dsoonmakehim!IwouldnotstandwhatLouisdoes.Themoreheisset
downandsneeredat,themoredebonnairehelooks,tillIcouldraveathimfor
takingitsoeasily.’
‘Ihopedyoumighthavehinderedthemfromfrettingeachother,astheydoso
often.’
‘Ishouldonlybeafreshelementofdiscord,whilehislordshipwillpersistin
makingmehispatternyoungman.Itmakesmehatemyself,especiallyasLouis
issuchanunaccountablefellowthathewon’t.’
‘Iamsorryyoudisliketheplansomuch.’
‘Doyoumeanthatyouwishforit,grandmamma?criedhe,turningfullroundon
herwithanairofextremeamazement.‘Ifyoudo,there’sanendofit;butI
thoughtyouvaluednothingmorethananindependenthome.’
‘NorwouldIgiveituponanyaccount,’saidshe.‘Idonotimaginethiscould
possiblylastformorethanafewmonths,orayearattheutmost.Butyouknow,
dearJem,Iwoulddonothingyoudidnotlike.’
‘That’snothingtothepurpose,’repliedJames.‘Thoughitistobeconsidered
whetherOrmersfieldislikelytobethebestpreparationforClara’sfuturelife.

However,Iseeyouwishit—’
‘IconfessthatIdo,forafewmonthsatleast,whichneedinterfereneitherwith
Claranorwithyou.IhavenotseenLordOrmersfieldsoeagerformanyyears,
andIshouldbeverysorrytopreventthosetwofrombeingcomfortablytogether
intheoldhome—’
‘Andcan’tthatbewithoutachaperon?’exclaimedJames,laughing.‘Why,his
lordshipisfifty-five,andshecan’tbemuchless.Thatisagoodjoke.’
‘Itisnotpunctilio,’saidhisgrandmother,lookingdistressed.‘Itisneedfultobe
onthesafesidewithsuchamanasMr.Ponsonby.Myfearisthathemaysend


herhomewithordersnottocomenearus.’
‘SheusedtobealwaysatOrmersfieldintheoldtimes.’
‘Yes,whenmysisterwasalive.Ah!youweretooyoungtoknowaboutthose
mattersthen.Thefactwas,thatthingshadcometosuchapassfromMr.
Ponsonby’sneglectandunkindness,thatLordOrmersfield,standingintheplace
ofherbrother,thoughtitrighttointerfere.HismotherwenttoLondonwithhim,
tobringpoorMaryandherlittlegirlbacktoOrmersfield,andtheretheywere
tillmysister’sdeath,whenofcoursetheycouldnotremain.Mr.Ponsonbyhad
justgothisappointmentasBritishenvoyinPeru,andwishedhertogowithhim.
ItwasmuchagainstLordOrmersfield’sadvice,butshethoughtitherduty,poor
dear.IbelievehepositivelyhatesLordOrmersfield;andasifforaparting
unkindness,helefthislittlegirlatschoolwithorderstospendherholidayswith
hissister,andnevertobewithus.’
‘Thataccountsforit!’saidJames.‘Ineverknewallthis!norwhywewereso
entirelycutofffromMaryPonsonby.Iwonderwhatsheisnow!Shewasadroll
sturdychildinthosedays!WeusedtocallherDownrightDunstable!Shewas
almostofthesameageasLouis,andagreatdealstouter,andusedtofightfor
himandherselftoo.HasnotshebeenoutinPeru?’
‘Yes,shewentoutatseventeen.Ibelievesheisaninfinitecomforttoher

mother.’
‘PoorMary!Well,wechildrenlivedinthemiddleofatragedy,andlittle
suspectedit!Bythebye,whatrelationarethePonsonbystous?’
‘Mrs.Ponsonbyismyniece.Mydearsister,Mary—’
‘MarriedMr.Raymond—yes,Iknow!I’llmakethewholelucid;I’lldrawupa
pedigree,andLouisshalllearnit.’Andwithelaborateneatnesshewroteas
follows,fillinginthedatesfromthefirstleafofanoldBible,afterhis
grandmotherhadlefttheroom.Thetask,lightlyundertaken,becameamournful
one,andashereadoverhisperformance,hiscountenancevariedfromthe
gentlenessofregrettoalookofsarcasticpride,asthoughhefeltthattheworld
haddealthardlybyhim,andyetdisdainedtocomplain.
KINGARTHUR


PendragonsandDynevorsinnumerable
RolandDynevor,d.1793
-1.2.3.–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
--Catharine,m.JamesFrostDynevor,Esq.Elizabeth,m.Jocelyn,3rdEarlof
OrmersfieldMary,m.Ch.Raymond,Esq.b.1770b.1765b.1772b.1760b.
1774d.1802d.1816d.1835d.1833d.1800

1.2.
––––––––––––––––—Jocelyn,m.LouisaVillars,Mary,m.RobertPonsonby
Esq.,
HenryRolandm.FrancesPrestonOliverJ.Frost4thEarlofb.1805b.1796
BritishEnvoyFrostDynevorb.1802DynevorOrmersfieldd.1826inPeru.b.
1794d.1832b.1797b.1792d.1832

1.2.3.4.5.––––––––––––––––––––
JamesRolandFrancesCatharineOliverClaraLouisFitzjocelynMaryPonsonby

FrostDynevorb.1826b.1827b.1829b.1831ViscountFitzjocelynb.1826b.
1824d.1832d.1832d.1832b.1826.FellowofSt.F.College,Oxford.
‘Since1816,’mutteredJames,ashefinished.‘Thirtyyearsofdrudgery!When
shallIbeabletorelieveher?Ha!O.J.F.Dynevor,Esquire,ifitwereyouwho
werecomingfromPeru,youwouldfindascoretosettle!’
HerandownstairstoassisthisgrandmotherintheLatinlessonsofherlittle
school,theusualemploymentofhisvacations.


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