like those of poor Lady Antonia Vesey. The phrey's far-forward, arch, demure little Vicar had spoken to Mr. Bingham on the daughter-dark-haired, like her motherracket which was suffered at the Hanger on Sundays, yet Mrs. Bingham, in place of being educated in a foreign convent like the young countess at Oakdale, was brought up by an aunt who was Low Church and Evangelical. There was a report that Humphrey would stand for the county at the end of the present session, when it was expected that the old member would retire; and it was understood Mrs. Humphrey was so zealous for her husband's election that the motive would induce her, if anything could, to renew her connection with Ashley, though no doubt on a different footing. But Mrs. Humphrey was a good wife to Humphrey Bingham in her own way, and though she did not remain at home from the county races to nurse her children through measles, saying audaciously that she had no fear of them. she was sure they had inherited good constitutions and would recover splendidly, she did remain at home and nurse Humphrey affectionately when he stood hours with wet feet duck shooting, and had an aggravated quinsy afterwards. Some excursion for which there was little time was in prospect for the family and the visitors at the Hanger, and the ladies were lunching without ceremony in their spring bonnets and bats, while the gentlemen attended to them with the little stir and glee of a cause for despatch, and a whet for wit as well as appetite. perched on one side of him, and on the other his fair daughter, with a dash of her father's tawniness, which insured a balsam complexion and sapphire eyes. Humphrey named the little girls Rouge et Noir teasingly, and then consoled them by bidding them fly and find their hats, and he would beg Miss Bertram to grant them a hal-holiday, and mamma to stuff them under the seats of the waggonette. But what would be one of Humpty Dumpty, the last baby brother, in their absence? Was he to sit on a wall till they all returned, and if he got a great fall should they bargain that he was to break no bones? Now get along Humphrey, and don't chaff the children when you know that they don't understand it. You'll have Minnie crying and not able to say whether she will go or stay, if she thinks baby is to come to grief in her absence, though, ind ed, there is no occasion for the little girls going with us; they will be too late for the school-room tea, and Miss Bertram, now that she is out of the room, don't like kicking her heels, though I never mind it. It is high time you were up in town sitting in Parliament, or anywhere else, and not spoiling your family here.' Are you to keep up two establishments, Bingham?' asked one of the men - the poor representative of one of King Charles's baronets. 'Two or three or half-a-dozen, Sir Charles, if Mrs. Bingham is to go to Brighton in autumn, Paris or Vienna in winter, and Rome in spring, as she obligingly suggests.' Mrs. Humphrey was conspicuous among her children and her guests- a beautiful wo- Of course I shall,' Mrs. Humphrey af man still, her tall slender figure grown a little firmed lightly and coolly. All the world too large, and her delicate complexion lost; goes to grass sometime or other.' perhaps her deep voice not sounding softer 'I think I had better try coining the and lower, and with not more repose though blessed coin of the realm here at the Hangwith more style in her gestures; but a hand-er, rather than the used-up device of spinsome, brilliant matron, on whom Humphrey ning cotton over at Ashley.' had never ceased to cast his eye in admiration and fonduess as she sat opposite him, the ample folds of her cashmere falling about her fine shoulders and bust, a youthful not too youthful looking-velvet hat, with its curling white feather turned up above her plump, bonnie, blithe face. Humphrey's back-and it had grown a very broad back was towards Abigail, but she could hear the old ringing familiar tones of his voice rising over and giving cheer to every other. 'No, no, Eddy, lobster salad is not for a puss like you.' 'Just one bit, papa.' Let it be but one then, you little gour mand." I think that big boy of mine had better look after the traps,' Mrs. Humphrey appealed to the company generally; she did not encourage allusions to the Factory, though she had the nous to see that Humphrey's nonchalance on his origin spared him a few aristocratic sneers. Abigail had been obliged to ove hear these scraps of the conversation and to wait in patience till the pa ty rose from the table, and then she could distinguish the sound of the carriages coming round to the door and taking the place of her cab; the very horses throwing up their heads at their hack brother and his hired vehicle. At last Humphrey was told that some person wanted him in the library, and reAbigail could fancy the group: Hum-mained behind, after the rest of the compa ny had trooped to the front door; even then, when he had taken some steps towards the library, he stopped and turned back to speak to the servant who was preparing to clear the table. 'Tell cook her hunter's stew to-day was a masterpiece. It is one of her best dishes. She may send up more of it for breakfast No need to tell whence Miss Edith got her gourmand propensities. to-morrow." Humphrey, with an inadvertent dryness getting into his voice. 'Odd enough,' he thought, clasping his knee, if Prior try to come over me with his wife. By-the-by, how faded the poor little woman is: I am shocked to see her.' 'No, he was asleep when I left. It was entirely my own idea.' 'You do me honour, Mrs. Prior,' declared Humphrey, with his old gallantry. 'May I ask, have you heard that I propose, I think'-he hesitated slightly, and played with the tassel of the bell rope, though he felt he must plunge into his communication, to give up the Factory, as I have not time to look near it, and it is too much for Mr. Prior.' 'I do not think so,' interposed Abigail eagerly. I am sure his heart is in it; if.. you had only listened to him for the last fortnight, you would think so too." At last Humphrey came into the library, filling up the doorway, for his stately figure was becoming portly. He was still what in the west of Scotland is emphatically termed 6 a braw man.' But a certain unwieldiness was creeping over him, and his face was considerably fuller and redder than when it smiled brightly on Abigail that far a way night of the ball. It was the ef fect which even gentlemanlike and respectable self-indulgence, including the pursuit It is not worth his pains,' protested of field sports, will produce on a man; and Humphrey, abruptly dropping the tassel; the portliness and floridness were not un-he is wasting his time and my means becoming in their present stage, though along with his own, of course.' they foreshadowed heavier and coarser traits. The contrast between Humphrey Bingham and his partner's wife, the delicate pinched woman, in the winter gown and jacket of grey woollen stuff and the Ashley every-day bonnet of black chip, was striking but not so extreme as the difference between Humphrey and the wan, hollowcheeked, silver-headed man at home, working, in dreams, of whom Abigail thought intenily, as she gazed into Humphrey Bingham's face. He was so much surprised that he said her maiden name out loud, Abigail Howe!' but he recovered himself immediately, and shook hands with a cordial running fire. "How do you do, Mrs. Prior? Glad to see you, trust Prior is no worse; shall fetch back Alice-come into the dining-room, Have some luncheon, a glass of wine at least. Why did they show you in here?' When he found that Abigail would not have Mrs. Bingham recalled, or consent to eat and drink, his good nature helped her instantly. He assured her his going with the others was of no consequence. He was to ride, and he could easily make up to them; if she would permit him to send to the party to set out without him he should be at her service. He sent his request, made Abigail sit down again, and took a seat opposite her. 'You are sure Prior is no worse?" Oh no, he is a great deal better; the Doctor is very well pleased with him this morning, if he can keep him from meddling with business. That is what I came here to speak to you about.' 'Does Prior know you are here?' asked I am aware he has very little of his own,' said Abigail, in her quiet ingenuous voice. But as far as I could follow him, he wishes to try an improvement on the machinery, which would insure the work being more quickly and cheaply done.' Not to any extent,' exclaimed Humphrey, impatiently. Then he checked himself, and took the trouble to explain to her gravely, I repeat I believe it would only be the waste of more time and means; but of course you ought not to speak of it to him at present. I thought it right to anticipate any proposal you might make, and it can be broken to him by degrees when he is stronger.' Abigail's heart sank. The Factory had waned into an irksome trifle to Humphrey Bingham, while it had waxed into a matter of life and death to Tom Prior. But she would not be baulked of her proposal, the drift of which was beyond Humphrey Bingham's liveliest imagination, though he had a guess that women were, at once, the meanest, and the most generous of created beings. 6 Mr. Bingham, when you say the improvement expected from the new machinery would not be to any extent, you mean relatively in connection with the cost and your income, don't you?' I admit that I do, Mrs. Prior. It might pay Prior, but only in a small way, and I really consider that he might do better. Pray remember I do not reflect on him in the least,' he added, kindly. I should know. Tom Prior, old Tom; and I say a more honourable, devoted mechanical genius, if he had the tools to work with, does not exist.' 'I am sure you are right.' Abigail set her seal to the statement, never thinking of deprecating a compliment. And he has been brought up a manufacturer, as the Ashley people have been brought up to the Factory. No doubt they could get other work, or go elsewhere for work, and it would be kinder to let them do so, hard as it would be for them at first, than to keep on the Factory if it could not be made to pay. I understand all that, but Tom does not think it cannot pay. Will you tell me, Mr. Bingham, what the improvement would cost?' Certainly. To introduce the change properly, which would be the only chance, might cost five or six thousand pounds. But you do not think I would grudge the sum if I saw my way clearly?' he asked, patting his hands into his pockets, unable to help appearing nettled. No,' answered Abigail slowly, as if she were reflecting.Papa left me four thousand pounds; will you take that as Tom's share? You know business so much better than I, you will be able to tell exactly what I have only a vague notion of I mean that though I have not the money entirely my own disposal, I believe I can borrow upon it or sell my life rent in it, you know.' He was leaning back in his chair more astonished than when he had seen her there first. Borrow upon your fortune! sell your life-rent in it! What are you thinking of, Abigail? Excuse me, but you are speaking arrant treason-shocking nonsense,' he repeated, with his eyes still opened wide but a smile playing about his mouth. Your fortune is the only thing you have to depend upon should the firm be dissolved to-morrow, and Prior not get into another, or be able to procure a subordinate situation. If he were so left to himself as to consent to so rash and reckless a venture, it could not be allowed for a moment in your interest and that of your children.' If Tom had the money of his own, do you think he would not risk it?' don, I could not without his knowledge or consent: there would be neither law nor honesty in the proceeding.' He had risen and was walking up and down the room. He stopped and looked at the thin, pleading, passionate face. But at least you are a good wife to him.' 'No,' denied Abigail, with the tears for the first time starting to her eyes. 'That is not it, but he is my dear husband.' Humphrey stood gazing upon her, and twirling his watch-guard. She had a very sweet face, though she was not by a long chalk so handsome a woman as Alice; but he did not wonder now at her old attraction for him. Would Alice have done as much for him- Alice, who set so much store on her dignities, and required so many indulgences as her right? Stuff! was he, so well off, jealous lest poor Tom Prior could command more loyal duty, purer affection? Alice had suited him perfectly, made him an excellent wife, and she had never been tried, as he should be thankful. But he would try Tom Prior's wife, Abigail Howe, a grain more, and see if the additional straw would break the camel's back, though he had always known her as an unworldly, enthusiastic woman. 6 But, Mrs. Prior, supposing the improvement on the looms should fail, and you have no warrant against it, what would you do then?' And he glanced his eyes involuntarily round the library, with its marble busts, carved oak, and calf-skin, which he was sensible were more in Tom Prior's and Abigail's way than in his and Alice's, but which more than any room in the house indicated the power and the refinement of the affluence of the owners. 'I cannot tell; but we would still have Tom to work for us, as I dared not think we would a week ago,' Abigail maintained, with undaunted courage. Mamma would do what she could for us, and take us in, till we were established elsewhere.' · Mrs. Prior, I see you have made up your mind,' broke in Humphrey, afraid to 'I cannot say that he would not, because trust himself to hear anything further; the man is possessed by the spirit of im-you are a dear, good little soul, the most provement; but that would alter the case entirely.' 'I do not think so. Supposing I had happened to have no money, and he were spending all our worldly goods, would it not have come to much the same thing? for what is mine is Tom's, to use according to his judgment, whether you and he think so or no. I desire you to take the money, Mr. Bingham,' she urged, with a dawning of indignation. I will not, Mrs. Prior. I beg your par regular brick. You have fairly conquered me. We will say no more about business just now, if you please. Only mind, I authorize the new machinery; you may tell Prior so whenever you like; and who knows, it may be a spoke in my wheel if I try for the county? At least many a smaller cotton spinner and calico printer than Cobden and Bright has sat under the roof of St. Stephen's.' Tom was well enough to begin and groan over his business. If Bingham would look in and let me say | heard of the effects of a shock on an ina word to him on a change, in the valid: how such a one will rise from a sofa looms.' Humphrey Bingham has been here often,' said Abigail, in an undertone. 'I saw him yesterday, and by-the-by, Tom, he desired me to tell you he agrees to the improvements you wish.' Tom drew a long sigh of relief, turned to the wall, and pulled up the bed-clothes to shade his face; perhaps he was overcome at the ga ning of his desire. Another chance in the world, for he was weak, poor fellow; perhaps he wanted to thank his Maker for His boundless goodness. When he spoke again, it was to say gently, My dear, if you had known what it was to me to hear that word, you would have spoken it at once. Humphrey was always a noble fellow, and see how he has got on He has prospered as he deserves I hope I shall be permitted to make this up to him." Abigail pondered if Tom, lying there wasted and low, with much upon his mind, drudgery and a xiety before him yet, and a weak pining wife all these years, could think he had got what he had deserved; but she offered no remark, and the next speech of Tom's was in a very cheerful key. I should not wonder though you got your gren-hou-es after all, Abigail,' he said, looking up brightly. Mrs. Prior,' said Dr. Winkworth, bluntly, turning from his patient to his patient's wife,' you are in for one of your chest colds; I have been expecting it for some time, and now you are loaded with it. How could you be so imprudent as to sit in a draught yesterday?' Abigail rebutted the attack with a twinkle in her eyes. I assure you, Doctor, I did not sit much on anything. I was out: I was busy yesterday, and I am not going to have a cold; do not say so.' I think Mrs. Prior is looking very well,' asserted Tom, from where he was laid on his back, manfully standing up with weak bnt willing valour for his wife. To my mind, nursing a sick man does very well with her.' • Once on a time, Tom, for a change. After all your bullying of me, it is a treat to have you in my power,' answered Abigail, with a fall in her voice. Abigail had nursed her husband unweariedly, indefatigably, with stores of tenderness, which had not till now been set free in the bosom of the daughter, wife, and mother. What had become of her bronchitis, pleurisy Vanished in smoke. Not that Abigail was a monomaniac, though something of a valetudinarian. Most people have seen or or even a sick bed, and minister to the strong man or woman who has taken her place, to be ministered to instead of to minister; perform the most trying duties; keep the most exhausting watch, while the world looks out for the break-down of the forced strength, till it is compelled to cry A miracle! Sometimes it is great Death which is the shock, and the sufferer who was mourned over as bereft, indeed, when the friend on whom he or she leant, is removed, is restored to life and the world by the stroke having only one regret - the eyes which would have shone brightest to witness the resuscitation are closed in this world. But what if spirit eyes beam from the stars on the last Lazarus. • His ways are not as our ways.' Abigail cast disgrace on Dr. Winkworth, after all his attention to her husband, by not taking his cold; and the strenuous exertions she employed against it, were hardly fair play. She snuffed camphor, she painted herself like a red Indian with iodine, she gargled she steamed, she had recourse to hot water, she had recourse to cold, she turned out, to the delight of her little boys, in masquerade, and they found mamma made a very pretty guy with a coal-scuttle of an old opera-hood on her head, and a royal fur tipp t, like that of the King Edwards', round her shoulders. And when she did not take her cold, Abigail smiled and sighed again. When Tom was able to go to the Factory again, he came home and took to studying, why his wife gave him so many nervous, furtive, inquisitive glances, wheth er they were all on account of his health, or had any other origin. It was a luxury for him to study Abigail in a new light. Notwithstanding her nervousness, her late fatigue and arrested cold, and the important circumstance that she was a woman over thirty, Abigail was looking prettier than she had done since she was a girl of nineteen, and Humphrey Bingham was in love with her. Tom fancied her ten times prettier than he had ever seen her. It might be because in laying aside the last alternative of the opera-hood and the fur tippet, she had taken the opportunity of discarding her shawl and lace cap along with them, and appeared in her fresh summer gown, with her pulled-out bronze hair. It might be because she had made a great escape, and a new spring was given to her life. Jack and Joe had told their father that first when he had been ill, mamma had been miserable, and then when he grew better she had grown funny, and she had promised to continue funny if they would be good boys, and not tease papa to draw for them, and go down on all fours to be the umpire in their games of marbles instead mamma had cut out in paper, girls' things but such jolly rows of dolls dan cing arm-in-arm, and flowers in flower-pots. Abigail had become more interested in housekeeping since she was under the necessity of exerting herself, and walked about cogitating profoundly, with keys in her hands, or sat dipping into housekeeping manuals and cookery-books, in place of wise discussions on silver hairs and evening clouds. With the extravagance and impetuosity of woman, she had tied round her still slim waist a bran new black silk apron, as if there lurked sovereign virtue in that terribly democratical, determinedly middle-class, and unflinchingly practical piece of wearing apparel. It amused Tom immensely, to an extent no superior person could conceive, to note these innocent preparations. At last Abigail stepped up to him one evening, when he was standing idle by the window, and impressed upon him solemnly that she believed it was true what Ashley said about the housemaid Dorothy, she was getting spoilt with too little work, and Dorothy's mistress had come to the conclusion she ought to part with her domestic. But I thought you had a liking for Dorothy, Abigail,' remonstrated Tom, checking an inc ination to cry out, You little humbug!' Abigail was taken aback, and smitten in her conscience. Yes, of course she had a liking for Dorothy, who was an honest, warm-hearted girl, though a little wilful, and had been very attentive and concerned when her master was lying ill. She had cried and declared he had never spoken a rough word to her, and however engrossed, he had always found time for a smile, and a Is that you, Dorothy?' when he met her abroad. Ah, Tom, you did not know how much you were thought of,' in parentheses. But it was a losing of Dorothy to keep her there and not give her work to do. There was not sufficient work since the boys were all day at school, and Mrs. Prior was so well she meant to take more management of the house. There was no one like the lady of the house in looking after it: she was persuaded that it would be good for her now that she was strog enough for it. There was a young sister of Dorothy's, who could come and help when they washed, and for the doing up of the boys' clothes. Would he not believe her? Abigail at last besought Tom, getting desperate at the stony look of his face, while he resorted to the old dangerous habit of tugging whiskers, ragged, and as if sprinkled with ashes. She could do like other women with an experienced servant, and a little assistance now and then. Poor Mrs. Leech had to do with less since she had lost poor Captain Leech; so had the new curate's young wife; and she was more highly connected than Abigail: would he not listen to reason? 'No, I won't,' Tom declined stoutly. 'I never heard a more preposterous proposal in my life. It may do for poor Mrs. Leech, who cannot help herself; or the curate's wife, with love in a cottage for the honeymoon; but you have not lost your husband, though you have been near to it, and we are an old married couple, with two great boys. I tell you I will not hear another word of it. I never fancied you penurious before, but this is positively mean. Why, I have a great liking for Dorothy, who, young as she is, has made a good nurse to the boys; but I never thought of displaying it by turning the girl off. You goose! you goose! there is no call for curtailing our extensive establishment and starving ourselves—that would be the next precious move: women have no medium. Your poor little fortune has not been made away with, as you proposed (I heard all about it from Humphr y). Humphrey Bingham advances the money; he can very well afford to do it, and the venture will pay him more or less. He said his eldest boy flattered himself he would die a fieldmarshal; but, for aught Humphrey himself knew, clothing, not killing the enemy, might be the thing before Wakefield or little Humphrey were ready to leave Rugby, and either of them might have a greater mania for usefulness than ever their father had. Lord Rivers' eldest son was to head a steam-baking company: it seemed the entire population were like to be poisoned by a combination of the bikers, poor fellows, to buy up fusted flour, and be excused from kneading' Tom was speaking for speaking's sake, for he was agitated, and he hate o show it; but he had taken her two ia d, and was squeezing them tight. Abigail was agitated also. 'You are not angry with me for interfering, Tom?' Now, however Abigail had erred; she had not been meddlesome or domineering: so Tom protested her self-condemned whisper was the most unkindest cut of all.' |