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This trust formed the basis of their | lantern jaws, might fill for many a long loyalty, and was a good reason why the year. That sooner or later Mr. Stephen inhabitants, while they freely tendered Prescott would succeed, no one doubted. their respects to the rector, the doctor, Sir Bernard, it was felt, would never and the whole of the Mallett gentry (with marry, on account of the only woman he most of whom either they or their children had ever been seen to look at, or speak to had served or were serving the Queen), willingly, having preferred his brother. Captain Carthew was "the Cap'en," their People who, if they did not know the councillor in difficulties, and their sheet- rights of it, nobody could tell them, had anchor in trouble or sorrow. When com- said that it was on account of Mrs. plimented on his popularity, the Captain Stephen Prescott that Mr. Bernard kept would shake his head, saying, "But you away-living nobody knew how or where, know it ought not to be so; the master and was a greater stranger to his family of Combe should be port-admiral at Mal- than they liked their neighbours to know lett. Why, do you think I'm blind, be- of. Certain it was, that from the time of cause I won't see the things which people, his brother's marriage until some twelve who turn up their noses at us, are point- months after his father's death (when he ing out? But there's no getting Sir had become master of Pamphillon) he had Stephen down here, and until he knows never set foot in his native place; and us, he'll never care about us. Ah! it's a then he only returned because the brother, thousand pities to see the old place going who had been his rival in all he set store to rack and ruin." by, lay in the family vault, with a newlycut inscription on the church wall, telling how he had met his death by an untimely fall from his horse, leaving a widow and only son to deplore their loss.

The place referred to was Combe-Mallett- an estate which would have found little favour in the eyes of most landowners. The house was moderately large, and old-fashioned enough to look picturesque; but the land attached to it had, from neglect, become all but useless; the park, by which it was surrounded, looked a wilderness of unconvertible timber, stunted trees and brushwood, forming excellent cover for the game, which, on account of Sir Stephen's desire to let Combe, as it was usually called, Mr. Truscott, the agent, kept strictly preserved.

Sir Stephen inherited Combe through his grandmother having brought it as her wedding portion to his grandfather, Sir John Prescott. Sir John had left two sons. In the elder (who succeeded him) he had little pride, simply because he was his heir, and a peculiarly eccentric young man, who preferred his hobbies, and the two or three friends who could share in them, to the county society or his own family. Such things were, of course, looked on by them as unworthy of a man born to be master of the Pamphillon estates, and as such, a leader among Grasshire magnates.

The tongues of rich and poor, for miles round, echoed the feelings which rankled in old Sir John's breast; loudly declaring it too bad, that while a churlish bookworm had honours thrust upon him, which he neither valued nor graced, the only prospect for Stephen (the second son), who was jovial and free-handed enough to be a duke, was to wait to step into the shoes which his elder brother, in spite of his

When Mrs. Prescott spoke of retiring with her boy to Combe, which had been left to her husband by Sir John, Sir Bernard begged her to remain near him, as he should need her assistance and help, if he lived at Pamphillon among his tenants, as she said it was his duty to do. At first the widow hesitated - recollections made her irresolute, and she would only consent to defer her decision for a time; but she quickly found she had no hidden motive to dread in accepting Sir Bernard's invitation. The offers he had made at their first meeting, to be a father to her child and a brother to herself, he fulfilled to the letter, but nothing more. Never did he allude to any warmer feeling ever having existed between them. Mrs. Prescott smiled a little sarcastically when she thought how much unnecessary pity she had wasted upon a man who could so readily forget a disappointment, which he had told her he should carry to his grave. Yet she felt it was far better as it was. No brother could be more thoughtful, nor father more indulgent. He took as much pride in little Stephen as if he had been his own son. All reserve on her part was at last thrown aside, and she, as well as every one who knew them, uncontradictedly spoke to Sir Bernard of his nephew as his heir.

The boy was scarcely ten when he and his mother were recalled to Sir Bernard's bedside from a visit they were making in Wales. They hurried back with all speed,

in the course of a week or so he would be at no great distance, and would probably run down to Mallett for a few days.

What was to be done? How was he to be received? When would he come? These, and a dozen other questions were speculated upon, without any conclusion being arrived at, except that something must be done; but it was agreed that what this something ought to be need not be decided upon until Sir Stephen wrote again, which most assuredly he would do before he came.

to find him already dead, and Stephen his | from Sir Stephen himself, saying that she successor - but successor to what? To was to get a couple of rooms in order, as, a name, and nothing more. The estate was mortgaged, tied up, ruined, by the speculations of a man, who had been one of the most splendid tools a set of sharpers ever lighted upon. It seemed as if people would never tire of asking each other what possible motive could have induced the man (whom all his neighbours had regarded as a bookworm and a miser) to enter into speculations and schemes which would have staggered the most desperate gambler. No one being able to solve the enigma, they settled the matter by concurring that he was mad, that he always had been mad, and ought never to have been allowed the handling of a fine property, which had been in the family for generations. Poor Mrs. Prescott, bent on living on bread and water to try and keep it for her son, lived in terror that she would not be able to hold out till "I wonder when the fellow means to Sir Stephen was of age, but would have make his appearance?” said the Captain. to take the lawyer's advice and sell it."These youngsters want such a sight But, impossible as it had seemed, hold of backing and filling. Why, in my out she did; and at twenty-one Sir Stephen Prescott found himself called upon to manage a large estate, which was hampered by liabilities of every description, and which kept him in a continual strait by forcing him to contract new loans to pay off old scores.

Thus it was, that while the simple Mallett folk regarded him as a Croesus, who lived a life of thoughtless pleasure, and could turn their poor village into an earthly paradise, without being obliged to deny himself a single luxury; he refrained from asking his agent one word about them, dreading to hear of distresses which he could not remedy, or suggested improvements which he had not the money to carry out.

"One thing I am glad of," said Hero Carthew, who was seeing her father as far as Ferry Bridge, on his road to Dockmouth; "I am glad Sir Stephen has chosen this season to pay his visit to Combe. It never looks so lovely as in the spring."

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Now, you dear old thing, it's your day now," interrupted Hero; "and Sir Stephen never positively said how soon he intended coming."

"Oh! of course, you'll take his part," replied the Captain. "You women are all alike, ready to wager any mortal thing against the likelihood of a full-blown baronet doing wrong.”

Hero laughed.

"I hope he will turn out to be as nice as we want him to be," she said. "It would be a little trial to give up going in and out of Combe, as I suppose we should have to do, if Sir Stephen came to live there. Find out if you can, papa, whether Mr. Truscott knows when he is coming, and how long he intends to stay."

"And what do you mean to do with yourself while I am gone?" asked her father.

"I! Oh, I shall go to the Joslyns, and see Alice. You are certain not to be back until five or six o'clock. Be sure and bring me the parcel from Home's, and the wool from Miss Gregory's, and don't forget my brooch and Betsey's orders, whatever you do."

The agent, Mr. Truscott, lived at Dockmouth, and for the last five or six years, on account of Sir Stephen having been abroad, had reigned supreme over Mallett, ruling with so strict a hand that people rather let things go on, however bad they might be, "than knuckle down to that Truscott, who had swept out Glynn's offices, for all he rode on horseback, switching his whip as flourishin' as if he was his master." During the past year, however, hope had greatly revived. __Sir Stephen had not only returned to England, but had announced that he should "Take care of yourself, and don't get most probably pay Mallett a visit - an into mischief," she called after him; and announcement which, a few weeks before, then, with sundry nods, lookings-back, had been confirmed by Mrs. Tucker, the and shouted messages, the two parted, housekeeper at Combe, receiving a letter | Captain Carthew to take his place in Ned

"All right," said the old gentleman, bidding his daughter good-bye.

Wallis's boat for Dockmouth, and Hero | with a one
to strike across Passmore Fields, which
would bring her, by a short cut, close to
the coast-guard station of which Mr.
Joslyn held command.

Hero Carthew fell very far short of a beauty, and yet she generally contrived to carry off the lion's share of admiration and attraction. There was an unstudied grace about her figure, an elastic freedom in her movements, which attracted notice before perhaps you had even caught sight of her face, which was, like her nature, sunny and loveable, yet with plenty of character, and showing very openly its likes and dislikes, its pleasure and its pain. It would have thoroughly unhinged the nerves of many a town-bred belle or beau to have followed Hero's track to Winkle station. She walked and ran, climbed hills, jumped gates; singing merrily, and whistling familiarly to all the animals who chanced to lie in her road. Perfect health, temper, and spirits, what more was wanted to make her, what she declared herself to be, as happy as the days were long.

It always gave her additional pleasure to spend a day with the Joslyns. Alice was her greatest friend, the three boys were all in love with her, and Mr. Joslyn was her father's oldest shipmate. However long she had to stay at Winkle, the hour for return came all too soon; so that in this case none of them would credit Mr. Joslyn's assertion that it was already four o'clock, and high time to get into the boat, or the tide would not serve for landing Hero at Combe Point, and thus save her a three miles' walk. It did not take them long to reach Cape Farewell, as they had dubbed the narrow spit of sand which stretched out here; and, after a very reluctant leave-taking, and many promises of another such meeting, Hero was landed, scrambled up the rugged path, and stood waving her hand, watching the little boat as it tacked about, until it finally caught the wind and sailed swiftly out of sight.

Then she turned and began to look about for a certain old bullace-tree, which jutted conveniently out of the cliff. By mounting a stone placed there for the purpose, you could catch hold of a branch and swing yourself down into the park below. It was some time since Hero had availed herself of this mode of ingress, and she had wondered if she should hit the exact spot. She critically examined the bough to ascertain if it would bear her weight; and, being satisfied on that score,

the top was

two three gained, and by the reaction of the bough she came down together with a shower of blossom, loose stones, and dust at the feet of a gentleman whose hat she knocked off, and flattened under her feet.

"Oh! what have I done?" she exclaimed, as she endeavoured by beating the cloud to disperse the dust in which she had enveloped him; "I beg your pardon-I am so sorry I had no idea that any one would be here; why didn't you call out?"

"Call out," he said, in a somewhat injured tone, "really that was an impossibility; I only heard a rustle, and before I had even time to look up, you had descended."

Then, seeing the look of unutterable confusion which came into Hero's face, as her eyes fell on the hat all battered and spoiled, he burst into a hearty laugh, saying

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Pray, don't mind it; but you must pardon a stranger for being ignorant that the young ladies here have a way of dropping from the clouds."

Hero tried to smile, but the hat weighed heavily upon her.

"Can't something be done to it?" she asked anxiously, trying to restore it to shape; "I feel so dreadfully ashamed of myself."

"Don't do that," he said, looking admiringly at her pretty confusion, "it will come right again, I dare say; and if not, I have some more luggage coming this evening, so don't distress me by distressing yourself."

His luggage! who could he be? Hero looked at him inquiringly, and then a dreadful suspicion arose that this must be Sir Stephen Prescott.

"I had no idea that there was any path outside the cliff," he said, trying to divert her from the unlucky accident.

" I

"Nor is there," stammered poor Hero, who felt that, if her last conjecture proved true, she ought to add an apology for this unwarrantable mode of entrance. have been to Winkle station; and, as the tide prevented me from getting back by the beach, Mr. Joslyn landed me at the Point below, and I climbed up here to get home through the park. People have always been allowed to come this way; Sir Stephen Prescott has never objected to it;" and then with a blush and half-smile she asked shyly, "Are you Sir Stephen Prescott?"

"Yes, I am; what made you think so?" "Because, for one thing, I did not know

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you, and we seldom have strangers here; | have gone back to the hotel at Dockand then you look at least you are not mouth," he added reflectively. quite the same as the people we generally

see."

Sir Stephen smiled.

"May I venture to ask," he said, "whom I have the honour of addressing?"

"My name is Hero Carthew. I am Captain Carthew's daughter, of Sharrows, round Combe Point ;" and she pointed in the direction where the house lay. "Sharrows! I think Mr. Truscott has spoken to me of Sharrows- is it not the next place to this?"

"Yes, we are neighbours, though not very near ones. Papa will be so pleased to see you. We heard that it was likely you would come, but no one expected you to-day, or you would have had a proper - reception. How did you get here?"

"I came by train from Garston to Dockmouth, and took a carriage on to this place. The old housekeeper seemed perfectly aghast at seeing me. She kept on insisting that she expected I should have written. I told her that I had written once. But this was of no use, she kept repeating that she expected I should have written again."

"So we all thought," said Hero. "You know you only said in your letter that she was to get the rooms ready, as it was probable you might run down while you were in the neighbourhood. Mrs. Tucker

brought it for me to read the morning she got it, and I believe almost every day since; she was so afraid there might be some mistake. How vexed the poor old soul will be, that everything is not in apple-pie order! Of course, nothing was ready."

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But Hero shook her head at this. While he had been speaking, she had been rapidly running over in her mind the contents of the home larder. Of course, she decided that she must ask Sir Stephen to return with her. Her father would be very vexed if she did otherwise; for Captain Carthew's principles of hospitality consisted in offering freely what he had, not in withholding his invitation because he had not that which his liberal heart desired to place before his guest. Turning, she said

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Papa went to Dockmouth this morning, but by this time he must be back again. I hope you will not stand upon ceremony with us, but return with me, and at least give us the satisfaction of knowing that you are not alone the first evening of your arrival.”

"Really, you are very kind, Miss Carthew; but- "and as he hesitated, Hero said

"You will only be saving papa a walk, for I know he would set off to fetch you the instant I told him that you were all by yourself."

"I should be sorry to give him that trouble; so perhaps, as I wish very much to make his acquaintance, you will permit me to accompany you back."

CHAPTER II.

A FIRST WELCOME.

"SHALL we go by the cliff path?" asked Hero. "Perhaps you will not care to go through the village." "In 66

Ready!" echoed Sir Stephen. all your life, you never saw such scrubbing and cleaning as was going on there; only that the horse would have been dead beat, I should have returned to Dockmouth without delay."

"Oh, that would have been too bad," exclaimed Hero energetically; "you must not think of such a thing. You have no idea how every one has been looking forward to your visit. We have talked of nothing else."

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Very flattering, and all that kind of thing," replied Sir Stephen, laughing; "but practically, I know of nothing more disagreeable than to arrive where you fancy you are expected, and find no rooms ready, and no chance of dinner-an event which this sea air makes exceedingly important to me just at present. I really think it would have been better to

Hardly, if it can be avoided. I do not fancy that at present my appearance is calculated to inspire the authority I am supposed to possess."

I don't think any one would see it unless they were told," said Hero, colouring, as she glanced at the unfortunate hat. "It was too bad of me, and at our first meeting."

"Oh no, it has but made us better friends," replied Sir Stephen. "A little contre-temps is often most successful in putting people at their ease. Don't you think so?"

Hero shook her head.

"I was in an awful state of fright," she said, "when I began to suspect who you were."

Sir Stephen laughed.

"It is evident I ought not to have come here. I shall never be able to keep up

the character to which distance lent enchantment."

"Oh yes, you will; and if we can only make you like the place, and come and live here sometimes, the people will be ready to do anything for you, as they are for papa."

"Sir Stephen has not seen papa yet,” said Hero, nodding her adieux. "So good-bye.”

"Good evening," said Sir Stephen. "Good evening, sir, and thankee for coming."

"And thank you, too, Miss Hero,"

"Ah! Mr. Truscott told me that Cap-called out Osee. "I shall just ha' sometain Carthew has immense influence among the villagers."

"Yes, papa understands them. Mr. Truscott does not; one must live among them."

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"Rather a heavy penalty to pay, though," said Sir Stephen. In winter it must be fearfully dull."

"Oh, no! it is not; though perhaps you would feel it so ; I am forgetting that I have never lived in any other place." "And you are quite content here?" "Perfectly. Of course, I am longing to go to a hundred places, and see all one hears about, but I know I shall never find another Mallett."

Here a bend in the path brought them to a cottage, at the door of which a freshcoloured middle-aged woman was standing.

"Well, Lois," said Miss Carthew, with a friendly smile, “has Osee come home yet?"

"Yes, miss, and the Cap'en, he said, comed back with 'em."

"Oh, that is all right; " then, turning towards Sir Stephen, she said

"Lois, this is Sir Stephen Prescott." "My dear life!" exclaimed the woman, dropping a succession of curtseys. "Well, I never did. I'm sure, sir, you'll be as welcome as the flowers o' May to Mallett. Why, Osee!" she called, "do 'ee come out here then. He will be took aback sure enuf," she added, as a square-built, weather-beaten, sea-faring man made his appearance, and was duly pushed forward by his wife with the introduction, "This is my man, Osee Triggs, sir, and at your service by night or by day. 'Tis Sir Stephen Prescott, Osee," she wound up with. Osee's astonished face beamed again, as with several touches at an imaginary cap he said

"I'm proud and happy, sir, as you be come among us at last, as Miss Hero will tell ye, 'tis what we've all hoped for for ever so long, 'till some of us thought 'twas never to be; but the Cap'en he stuck to his colours; says he, he'll come yet, never you fear that, he says; and you may always take yer Davy to what the Cap'en says; he never hauls his colours down, he don't."

thin'," he added, "to tell my mates, as I was the first as clapped eyes on un."

"These people seem very odd to me," said Sir Stephen, as he and Hero walked away, laughing over his first welcome.

"Odd!" echoed Hero, who was not quite certain of his meaning.

"Yes," he answered, "they are so completely different from the general class of villagers. They have none of the chronic shyness with which most country people seem oppressed."

"Oh, no; they are not shy; but they have nothing to be shy about."

"Neither have my other tenants; but they would never think of telling me that they were glad to see me, or of entering into any conversation with me."

"No? Well, they are odd then, if you like; but prepare yourself to answer all sorts of questions here; for Mallett people ask anything they want to know."

"So I find," said Sir Stephen. "My driver, and the pedestrians we met and passed, kept up a running fire of 'Why, where ever be you going, John Hicks?' 'To Combe, to be sure.'"

"And then," laughed Hero, "I know came-Why, what be goin' to do there?'"

“Oh yes, and then the answer was given by a turn of the whip, and a jerk of the head towards me, accompanied on selected occasions by the advice to ask Mary somebody at the pike, her'll tell'ee."

"I don't think you imagined that we were quite so primitive as you have found us," said Hero, "although I don't consider that we are regular country folks; we are too near Dockmouth for that. There is our house; you just catch sight of it round that corner. We have only to go up this hill and we shall be there."

"We have done nothing else but go up hill," said Sir Stephen, a little out of breath, while Hero's pace never slackened, neither did her voice falter. He could not but look admiringly at her lithe figure and elastic step, showing perfect health and no small amount of bodily strength.

"I must induce my mother to come here in the summer," he said; "she is somewhat of an invalid, and the air seems to be delicious."

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