Barbara Rebell

tre sage pour les aut

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hich gave him such value in Mrs. Boringdon's eyes. The mistress of the Priory had always lavished on Lord Bosworth's nephew a measure of warm affection which she might just as reasonably have bestowed on his only sister, but Miss Berwick was not loved at Chancton Priory, an

et the wealth which had come to him with such romantic fulness when he was only four-and-twenty. Madame Sampiero, Doctor McKirdy, and Mrs.

ill sometimes lead them into beautiful secret pastures, of which the boundaries are closely hidden from those of their fellows who only cultivate the obvious. It was so with James Berwick, and, as again so often happens, this odd power-not so much of second sight as of divination-was quite compatible with

emerged by a broad grass path into the lawn spreading before the Elizabethan front of the great mass of buildings. As he moved across, towards the porch, he thought the fine old h

Kirdy's stiff clear handwriting, lying ready for the post. Berwick, hardly aware of what he was doing, glanced idly down at them: then, as he moved rather hastily away, he lifted his eyebrows in surprise-one was addressed to his sister, Miss Arabella Berwick, at Fletchings; yet another, with every possible formality of address, to the Duchess of Apple

adame Sampiero's father. Here, at least, Berwick felt with satisfaction, everything was absolutely as usual. He went through into a narrow passage, up a short steep staircase to the upper floor, and so to the old-fashioned bedroom and dressing-room which no one but he ever occupied, and whi

there also were garnered the endless gifts he had made and was always making to his old nurse. James Berwick had been sadly spoilt by the good things life had heaped on him in almost oppressive lavishness, but no thought o

e wished to find it; and so seeing, he suddenly frowned, most unreasonably. Why was it, he asked himself, that only here, only at the Priory, were things done for him as he would have always wished them to be-that is, noiselessly, invisibly? His own servants over at Chillingworth never made him so c

neck, and kissed her on each red cheek. The mauve and white striped gown was new to him, but each piece of handsome jewellery set about the subst

I know all about it, sir! You

come over here! But make me welco

can't think why gentlemen should want to go to such outlandish spots: I looked out the place in 'Peter Parley,' that I did, and I used to sha

tell McGregor to lay dinner in the business r

idea, he added, "And we

your fine learning gone to? Not but what, thanks to glass and the stoves, the fruits of the ea

s, we can have toasted cheese. My sister has got a French chef

omen's mouths. I'd chef him!" and Berwick realised from the expressio

slily, "You'll have better company than me to-night, Mr. James,-you'll have to p

cried, "the d

here constant,-now let me see, a matter of twenty-five years a

u mean-surely you cannot mean that poor Richard Reb

st what she is

ack to Chillingworth to-night." He added abruptly, "She married (her nam

d been her part to tell the great news. "Oh no, we never mention him; his name is never heard! From what I can make out from the doctor,-but you kno

she? It seems to run in the famil

ut Madam has already took to her wonder

eat improvement on McKirdy's. But,

n now, Mr. James! What call would the doctor have to be such a t

slim creature, eh, Turkey? Very oddly dressed?" He turned and looked hard at his old nurse;

l right. Madam set Léonie to work at once. As for looks," Mrs. Turke bridled, "Mrs. Rebell favours her poor papa more than she does her poor mamma," she said, primly, "but she's a very pleas

rtable conviction that very little he thought and did remained hidden from his old nurse. To-night, as Mrs. Turke had felt quite su

a sense of Madame Sampiero's power of protecting and sheltering those over whom was thrown the mantle of her affection. The whole of Barbara's past life, her quiet childhood, her lonely girlhood, even the years sh

repugnance and horror produced no such effect on Barbara's mind and imagination. All the tenderness of a heart long starved, and thrown back on itself and on the past, was now beg

appearance. The white velvet gown, the black lace cross-over, and the delicate tracery of the black coif heightened the beau

now rather nervously aware that there was something about her own appearance to-night which did not please her godmother. Indeed, sitting there, in this lofty room full of beautiful and extremely ornate pieces of furniture and rich hangings, she felt acutely conscious that she was, as it were, o

ession which rested on the clear-cut face. "I care

the phrase, "A woman should always try to look her best." Barbara smiled as Léonie joined in with "Une jolie femme do?t sa beauté à elle-même

of such consequence as these kind people, Madame Sampiero and the old Frenchwoman, seemed to think, then it was a pity

s the great room, and in a moment her brown hands had pulled open a deep drawer in the Buhl wardrobe which had once adorned the bed chamber of th

ch, and Barbara's thin white silk gown had been transformed from a straight and, acco

eyes: she realised that a little thought, a little trouble, would transform her god-daughter,

y with that English beauty of golden hair and perfect colouring. But Barbara's charm, so far at least, seemed of the soul rather than of the body, and, recognising this fact, Madame Sampiero had at first felt disappointed, for her own

ughter, regarded the coming of Barbara as a matter of comparatively small moment. If the experiment was not successful, well then Mrs. Rebell could be sent away again; but the mistress of the Priory knew that to herself the coming of Richard R

or, it would have been sent in ample measure. At last what had turned the balance and weighed down the scale had been a me

mes Berwick, to be added to the many possessions he had acquired by the sale of himself-Madame Sampiero, discussing the matter in the watches of her long night, did not choose and pick her wor

dox, Newmarket, even after the property he had inherited from his own father in France. The thought whipped her as if with scorpions-perhaps the more so that for one moment, in the long ago, at a time when Barbara Sampiero wished to share everything with the man she loved, and before little Julia, that enfant de miracle, was born, she had seriously thought of

any Rebell who could establish his or her claim to it-such had been her feeling. But while Barbara's short, pitiful, and yet dignified letter still remained unanswered, and while Mrs. Turke's incautious word s

ich had suddenly come into her shadowed life slip by. All her life through she had acted on impulse, and often she had lived to regret what she had

d she allowed the terrible grief and physical distress which then oppressed her to prevent the accomplishment of that act of humanity and mercy? True, poor Barbara had already met the man whom she had married almost immediately afterwards, but had she, Madame

proval and reprobation the owner of Chancton Priory had endured during many years with easy philosophy, and whose later pity and proffered sympathy she had so fiercely rejected when her awful loss and subsequent physical disability had made them willing to surro

n do so much! Madame Sampiero knew exactly how much-and alas! how little-money can do. Her wealth could not restore poor Barbara's girlhood, could not obliterate the fact that far away, in a West Indian island, there lived a man who might some day make Barbara as wretched as she herself had been

e poor perishable body." So much fling he allowed himself, and then suddenly "Madam" had said something,-now what had she said? The doctor was completely nonplussed, angry with himself-he, whose mind always leapt to hers! Again and again the long sentence was murmured forth-it must be som

heep and si

e clothing

told himself rather ruefully that Madam had always been fond of fine raiment: for his part, he thought Mrs. Rebell looked very well as she was, especiall

eyes of the village-there was to be no going to church, for instance, till the fine feathers w

. Of all men he was the most fastidious in the matter of women's looks. A first impression, so Barbara's godmother reminded hers

iginally bought by Lord Bosworth in order that he might be close-and yet not too close, in the eyes of a censorious world-to Chancton Priory. This had

relationship between herself and Lord Bosworth should cease-that they should no longer meet, even to mourn together their child Julia. She wished to be rem

er life burn very low. From him alone she chose to learn what her old friend was thinking and doing, and how he regarded those struggles in the political arena of which she was still almost

ss or consolidate her position, but then Arabella Berwick must be won over and propitiated, made to understand that Mrs. Rebell was destined to become a person of importance. What Arabella should be brought to thin