The Wizard's Son

vening. First the report was that he had got a valuable appointment, at which the gentlemen shook their heads; next that he had come into a fortune: they laughed with one

h Walter had been one of the parties concerned. But the hopeful ones said to themselves, “Lizzie has but to hold up her little finger to bring him back.” This was before the whole was known. The young men who had hurried to Captain Underwood’s were received by that gentleman with an air of importance and of knowing more than he would tell, which impressed their imaginations deeply. He allowed that he had always known that there was a great deal of property, and perhaps a title concerned, but declared that he was not at liberty to say any more. Thus the minds of all were prepared for a great revelation; and it is safe to say that from one end of Sloebury to the other Walter’s name was in everybody’s mouth. It had been always believed that the Methvens were people of good connections, and of later years it had been whispered by th

everything that the heart of man could think of, the town was swept not only by a thrill of wonder, but of emotion. Nobody was indifferent to this extraordinary romance. Some, when they had got over the first bewilderment, received it with delightful anticipations, as if the good fortune which had befallen Walter was in some respects good fortune also for

e mind of the rector, who indeed was old enough to have taken it with more placidity, was such that he hurried in from morning service

Wynn, who was delicate and did not go to church in the winter morn

forestall him by telling him she already knew, but her heart failed her, and she only shook her head a little in protest against this cal

rector. “Well, Lydia, that young fellow that was a good-for-nothing, you know—doing nothing, never exerting

ks, Julius; I have heard so

e streets—Lydia!” said the rector with solemnity, drawing close to her to make his announce

er hard of hearing, which is the prettier way of stating the fact. It was supposed by some

deen—a great personage—a man of importance. You don’t show any surprise, Lydia! and yet it is the

mother is thinkin

ised. Of course, like every other mother, sh

of that sort,” t

m rather sorry, for it will make her feel she was perfectly right in encouraging him, and

but the fact that there i

far as that. It will be a bad example: and, in the mean time, it is a most astonishing fact. But you don

Wynn with a smile: then, “I wonder if she

make a good use of it. I hope he will not dart off with Underwood and such fellows and make a fool of himself. Mind, I don’t mean that I think so badly of Underwood,” he added after a moment, fo

tle experience in any case; and you will perceive, my dear, there is a great difference between a penniless youth like Walter Methven getting such notions in his head which lead only to ruin, and

ything, my dear,”

re just stiff with prejudice so far as Underwood is concerned, who really is not at all a bad fellow when you come to know him, and is alw

or a boy to pass through. I wonder if his mother——” And here she paused, not h

e has indulged him in everything hitherto; but just now, when he is f

prejudice. Perhaps he understood Captain Underwood as much better as she understood Mrs. Methven; so she said nothing more. She wa

y left to a woman’s training. He is either a mere milksop or a ne’er-do-well. Walter is not a milksop, and here has Providence stepped in,

nk every child is the better for having both i

e said, “but, I am sure, if my advice can do him any good, it is at his service; and, though I have been out of the w

nobody’s advice

, “Bless me! I have got my cassock on still. Tell John to take it down to the vestry—though,

time might save after labours, when, with a little eager tap at the door, another visitor came in. This was a young lady of three or four and twenty, with a good deal of the beauty which consists in fresh complexion and pleasant colour. Her hair was light brown, warm in tone; her eyes were brown and sparkling; her cheeks and lips bloomed with health. She had a pretty figure, full

body thought anything of—and now he is turned into a live lord! a real peer o

t when she heard of it, Jul

peak to her again. Don’t you remember? And I always thought you had some hand in

e old lady aske

throw in a word; and then, when people act upon it, you look so surprised. I

did remark it,

d me; and I hope you don’t think I am the sort of per

g him be seen with you too

to take a bad view. But, you see, there was somebody that was eligible; and here has he turned, all at once, into the v

m afraid, may say just t

ls always ready for a flirtation. Time hangs so heavy on our hands. And only think, Aunt Lydia, if things had been allowed to go on (and I could always have thrown him off if a

same in her eyes, as if she were eager for the chase, and scarcely able to r

y as you give yourself

and decent for us. We have to put up with it, but I hate what is necessary and decent. I should like to go in satin and lace to-day even if I knew I should be in rags to-morrow; and to think if you had not interfered that I might have blazed in diamonds, and gone to court, and done everything I want to do! I could strangle you, Aunt Lydia,

r you talk so—you are not so wi

for in vain, “except with indignation to think what I have lost—if I have lost it. It is all very well to speak, but what is a poor girl to do? Yes, I know, to make just enough to live on by teaching, or something of that sort; but

f the disagreeables

ery well), ‘We cannot hope to see you now in our little house, Lord Erradeen!’ and then of course he would be piqued (for he’s very generous), and say, ‘Why?’ And mamma would say, ‘Oh, we are such poor little people, and you are now a great man.’ Upon which, as sure as fate, he would be at the Cottage the sa

—and neither do you; and your mother wo

ns about propriety, and what is womanly, and so forth—just like you. Poor women have no business with such luxuries. I tell her we must be of our time, and all that sort of thing; but she won’t see it. No, I am a

oice which he reserved for the great county ladies, ann

covered the girl’s face. She sprang to her feet with the cassock in her arms, and gazed at the new comer. Mrs. Methven for the first moment did not notice this third person. She came in with the c

tell you great

ady. “I have heard, and I scarcely c

se last night, and yet everybody knows. I saw even the people in the street looking at me as I came along. Mrs. Wynn

and had been gently excited, no more. Now her eye

worthy and great,” she said, clasping her old hands

ed her presence, and she was not one that could remain unseen.

not to be trusted to make? Mrs. Wynn thought so with a great tremor,

nobody that does not like Walter; but I suppose I ought n

ch privileged in being so near to him, and admitted to such signs of friendship, came into her mind; but she did not care to have July share her expansion. “Miss Herbert,” she said

now. On the other hand, July Herbert was well used to the cold shade. Her mother was Mrs. Wynn’s niece, but she was none the less poor for that, and as July was not a girl to be easily put down, she was acquainted with every manner of polite snubbing known in the society of the place. This of standing till she should go was one with which she wa

ired of congratulations already—for of course it is not a thing upon which there can be two opinions.” July laid down the cassock as she spoke. “I have mended all

little wistfully after her. She was half angry when as soon as July disappeared Mrs. Methven sank down upon a chair near her, huge billows of black silk rising about her, for she had put on her best gown. Mrs. Wynn thought that the mother, whose child, disapproved by the world, had been thus miraculously lifted above its censures, should have been al

thought of her,” she said to herself. Twenty-four hours before Mrs. Methven would have been glad to think that Walter “thought of” any girl who was at all in his own position. She would have hailed it as a means of steadying him, and making him turn seriously to

id. “It is all like a tumultuous sea of wonder and t

hilled too, but she took

she said. “You wanted one thing, a

ying for any way of setting things right: when the good came in this superlative way. I feel frightened when I think of it. A

olding. “To be delivered from any anxieties you may have had in such a superlati

from those that had to fight it out. The very wor

it was true! One knows so well the other sort of waking when the shock and the pang come all o

ery day. The old lady melted, and her chill of feeling yielded to a tender warmth. Yet what a pity that They never see it! How much more perfect it would have been if the woman in her happiness had been softened and k