The Mating of Lydia

al monotony of parks, but was a genuine "chase," running up on the western side into the heather and rock of the mountain where the deer were at home, while on th

elfall Tower. Duddon was romantic-a medley of beautiful things, full of history, colour, and time, fused by the trees and fern, the luxuriant creepers and mosses, and of a mild and rainy climate into a lovely irregular whole; with no outline to speak of, yet with nothing that one could s

ses, and fountains, was as good in its way as the glorious wildness of the Chase. One might have applied to it the Sophoclean thought-"How clever is man who can make all these things!"-so diverse, and so pleasant. And indoors, Duddon was oppressive by the very ingenuity of its refinement, the rightness of every touch. No overcrowding; no ostentation. Be

is to grow more so. And Victoria Tatham was nothing if not fastidious. She had money, taste, patience, yet ennui confronted her in many paths; and except for the son she adored she was scarcely a happy woman. She was personally generous and soft-hearted, but all "causes" found in her rather a critic than a supporter. The follies of her own class were

entered the drawing-room by a garden door, laden with branches of hawthorn and wild cherry. In her linen dress and shady hat she still looked youthful, and there were many

of the room where its pearl and silver blossoms shone out against a background of dull purple, when th

That's jolly! I thought

ill next week. Mind

ngaged herself and her hat, affecting to scold; but her eyes betrayed her. She

look! Where have you

e have some tea? I've got lots to tell you. Well, in the first plac

r eyes, struck by the

ange

. You know that lady and her daughters who

s. Pe

d not escape his mother. "You know you've never called on them. Mother, you are disgraceful about calling! Well, I met them again this afternoon, just the other side of Whitebeck. They were in a pon

'll bear up. Do you

said her son dubiously

ht to have called on th

a nice old thing-sh

f tea, and I'll go and

somebody you took eight years to call on, and

nd, sit down and have you

danced with them both. But"-the young man shook his

la

. But she talks philosoph

r one doesn't t

er. But she paints-like a bird.

ou've bee

eyes upon her son. Harry Tatham

because you ha

ok all vivacity, "did she paint those t

t face beside her brok

t it 'cute of me? She told me she had sent them ther

w, as they slowly arched themselves, expressed the half-amused, half-startled inquiry she did

don't talk to me about it. There m

face deepened

Remember-there's only me,

me to be happy and please myself. At least if you'd wanted the usual thing, you s

mean by the '

I suppose. As if we had

tham he

ning a little. "I can't promise you, H

wh

ut me to

et. I just wanted you to know that I liked them-and I'd be glad if you'd be civil to them-that's all. Hullo-here they are!" For as he moved acros

e seven-leagued boots, to hav

most extraordinary thing! You've no idea what's been happening at the To

s the

ut those picture

nd shut noisily beh

and see his sitting-room? T

marriage. All the same, her mind at this moment was in a most conventional state of shock. She knew it, perceiving quite clearly the irony of the situation. Who were the Penfolds? A little ar

Harry's proceedings? She had been lately absorbed, with that intensity she could still, at fifty, throw into the most diverse things, in a piece of new embroidery, reproducing a gorgeous Itali

from the hall which heralded the approaching visi

s, her widow's veil thrown back from her soft brown hair and chil

eld out a hand-ea

on you first. But then we know your son-he is such a charming young man!-and he asked us to come. I don't think Lydia wante

r. "Oh, I'm a dreadful neighbour. I confess it in sackcloth and ashes. I ought to have called upon you long ago. I don't

trees, and the bold profile of the old keep, thrown forward among the flowers. There was nothing the least disting

lady, though rather a goose. T

wake, every now and then replying, as politeness demanded, to some appeal f

nsive, in our modern world where a certain superfluity of women has not tended to chivalry. But how little prettiness matters, beside the other thing!-the indefinable, irresistible something-which gives the sceptre and the crown! All the

ck!-in order she supposed to giv

at, and country shoes attracted Lydia, no less than the boyish, open-air look, which still survived through all the signs of a complex life and a cosmopolitan

r cottage?" Lady

g could be more to their taste-e

ehind her. "All motorists are brutes.

htly open, and given to smiling, a clear brow, a red and white complexion, a babyish chin, thick fair hair, and a countenance neither reserved nor foolishly indiscreet. Tatham's physical eminence-and it was undis

asked of Lydia. The delight in his eyes as he turn

asse

rhododendrons? J

drons sweep up from the lowland into a mountain boundary of gray crag and tumbling fern. Rose-pink, white and crimson, the waves of co

d eagerly. "You'd make a glorious thing of it. Mother cou

r perfunctorily. "They are just in t

was a little hurried-"but I have s

d her mother, "or so uncommon. And they'll be over direc

Tatham, observing her, retrea

you to paint what we lik

miled u

big view of the ri

now-mother! do you know

ld me. The most marvell

heard the stories they

ros

aughed

collec

, sometimes of his bloodhounds. She did not like passing the gate of Threlfall, and the high

ed him-they've smoked him out like a wasp's nest. My goodness-he did buzz! Undershaw found a man badly hurt, lying on the road by the bridge-bicycle accident-run over too, I believe-and carried him into the Tower, willy-nilly!" The speaker chuckled. "Melrose was away. Old Dixon said they should only come in over his body-but was removed. Undershaw got four labourers to help him, and, by George, they carried

nterrup

r Undershaw say

ross the tea-table,

ed at her i

better. Had you

n him just befor

stood," said Mrs. Pen

d he had told her the story. She was particularly interested, because of the little meeting by the river, which she de

mbered one of Lydia's characteristics-a kind of passionate reticence about things that moved her. Ha

ly observant of the story-teller, her beauty, the manner and quality of it, her movements, her voice. Her voi

ow the man's nam

ask Undershaw

oung man was Claude Faversham. He seemed to have

"I say! I know a Claude Faversham. I was a term with him at Ox

t the adject

g!" she added. "I noticed it w

ect things. My tutor sent me to a lecture once, when I was in for schools. Mackworth-that was the old boy's name-was lecturing, and Faversham came down to help him show his cases.

denly dubious. Lady Tatham

hrelfall

. But I feel as if I ought to do something about Faversham. The fact is he did me a gre

ng to any club you wish

ured. Lady Tatham slipp

di

was awfully useful. I m

tay on at

lfall?" Mrs. Penfold

tham quietly. "Mr. Me

m for some perfectly just claim. And Melrose in revenge has simply ruined him. Then there's a right of way dispute going on-scandalous!-nothing to do with me!-but I'm helping other people to fight him. And his cottages!-you never sa

really that he might once more obtain a full view of Lydi

earnt"-she said, adding with soft, upturned eyes-co

oned notions about women, very imperfectly revealed even to his mother, was momentarily displeased; then lost

round in answer to

y, you'd leav

Oh, I forgot-he's a sor

cond c

ses it shall be. I believe, mother, you know a h

whose curiosity was insatiable, within lady-like bounds, tried to

rs ago. I saw her." T

ran a

h. But she could not stand Threlfall-nor-I suppose-her husband. So

of ropes'" laughed Tath

nze, worth a t

an! And where

shrugged h

lrose told Doctor Undershaw that he had no relations i

n Tatham's rud

ctions don't matter to anybody! But the way he behaves as a landowner

ciousness of power and responsibility which for a moment dignified the boyish countenance; and

on the Melrose estates to temp

own upon her with an eagerness which had but

ut his hand off first. And if he didn't, the old villain would kick him out in no time. But th

*

r. His mother looked after them. Tatham was leading the way toward the door in the farther wall which led to his own sitting-room. Their young faces were turned toward each oth

sweet moments of life. La

ne-Jones, for one of the Pygmalion and Galatea ser

sped her small h

r I didn't have to speak. I never could remember my lines. But I had two great parts. There was Hermione, in 'The Winter's Tale'

bering it? Some

d ugly now," cried Mrs. Penfold with fervour. "Of course"-she looked shyly

Pygmalion had only just made her-th

I'm silly to talk of it-oh! they don't say it-they're very good to me. But I can see they do. Only-they've so many things to be proud of. Susy's so clev

aid Lady Tat

just danced about the room. And I'm to have a new best dress-she insists on it. Well, you see"-the little pink and white face of the speaker broke into smiles-"that's all so amusing. It puts one in good spirits. It's just as though one

d Lady Tatham pointing, and not knowing what t

Lady Tatham soon came to know a great deal about Lydia's "poor father"-that he had been a naval officer, a Captain Penfold, who had had to retire early on half-pay because of ill-health, and had died just as the g

of all the Honourable Johns, and Geralds, and Barbaras on the Tatham side-Harry's uncles and cousins-and the various magnificent people, ranging up to royalty, on her own; and envisaged the moment when Mrs. Penfold should look them all in the face, with her pre

se ears she had poured Ruskin and Carlyle from his youth up; who was the friend and comrade of all the country folk, because of a certain irrepressible interest in his kind, a certain selfles

ng-as well as good and bad. This inexperienced girl, with her prettiness, and her art, and her small world-was it fair to her? Is there not some

nours of half their possessions. Then it suddenly seemed to her that the time was long, and she led the way back

door at the farther end opened a

mother that Harry's look, on the other hand, was overcast. Had the girl been trampling on him? Impossible! In any case, there was no denying the quiet ease, the complete self-posse

t brow. He went to the window and stood softly whistling, with his hands in his pockets. Lady Tatham wa

d himself, a

ntentedly. "And why should anybody want to be inde

ds, evidently from another

ung woman of t

e happy?" he broke ou

didn't pro

ughed

made friends with her yet-though I thought I

osophy an

houlders. "It's much worse. It's as

other at last, her hea

art-and making a career-and earning money-and thi

am laughe

all her pic

like it a bit, if she k

lderment were evident. His mothe

ve you known

two mo

ain by the shoulders, a

e before? Do you want

er get her," was the

ing him, after she had k

ought of the Honourable Johns and Geralds. Mrs. Penfold and her chatter s