The Novelist.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 233, 26 February 1876, Page 3

The Novelist.

UNCLE JOHN/ Me forethinketh, said King Pellinorc, this shall betide, but , God may well foredoe destiny. —Morte d’ Arthur. Chapter I.—The Letter-Box. Of all taxes levied on friendship few are SO 1 galling as the corvee that compels a guest to inspect and admire the house in which he is entertained. To follow your host, with wet feet, and hands in pockets, round the stables, the kennel, the farm, and, worse still, the kitchen-garden, may well create a doubt that you had better have stayed away but this becomes a certainty when, in dismal attics and cheerless corridors, you stumble against a coalbox or are brought up with your head in a housemaid’s closet. I will not ask my reader, therefore, to accompany me beyond the hall of a comfortable country-house in one of the midland counties ; a hall well warmed and ventilated, where a good fire burns opposite the glass door that looks out upon the lawn. It seems to blaze the more cheerfully that a hard frost has bound the whole country in misery and iron. The leafless hedges stand stiff and bristling with frozen rime, the bare trees in the park ai-e clearly cut against a dull grey sky, the very grass crackles under the postman’s foot, and that functionary would seem to be the only moving creature in the parish but for an inquisitive robin, in a bright red waistcoat, with his head on one side, who hops and jerks restlessly across the gravel in front of the halldoor. In consequence of the postman’s arrival, a well-dressed free-and-easy butler emerges from certain back-passages and corridors, bringing a draught of cold air with him, and proceeds to unlock the letter-box that stands in a remote corner on one of the hall-tables. As he tumbles out the contents he scrutinises their addresses with considerable attention. And here I may observe that a shrewd upper servant, who superintends the correspondence of a family, even when he confines himself to the outside of the many missives that pass through hi 3 hands, must, if, to use his own language, he “ puts that and that together,” know a great deal more than we give him credit for. On the present occasion we will take upon ourselves the fulfilment of a task fsr which the butler has little leisure, the postman less inclination ; and, mastering the contents of these epistles, begin with No. 1., addressed in a funning, lady-like, not very legible hand, To the Hon. Mrs. Pike, South Kensington, London, S.W.

[No date.] My Dearest Letty-,—Not a word till I have sent a thousand kisses to Baby. He is the greatest darling in Europe, and I am sure he knew me when I wished him good-bye in your boudoir, the day I left London. I have not forgotten my promise to write, and tell you “ all how and about it,” as my maid says when she begins a full, wntrue, and particular account of that general rumpus among the servants which seems to prevail regularly once a month. In the first place, the old house is as nice as ever, the country is very much the reverse. The fields at this time of year seem impracticable without stilts, the lanes are knee-deep in mud, one meets cattle at all sorts of unexpected turns, and I think I am equally frightened whether they have horns or not. The laborers touch their hats and grin, their wives make curtseys down to the ground. Every woman carries a basket; and oh ! they are so dirty ! Then the boys have sheep-dogs, and talk to them in such an extraordinary language ; but the creatures seem to understand, nevertheless. The cottages and children are pretty. Perhaps it may be more tolerable in summer. Now for our party ; small and select, just what you like. Uncle John is, as he always was and always will be, a dear old dear ; but his whiskers are whiter than when I saw him last, and he seems to have grown shorter. Between ourselves Letty (mind !) I cannot help fancying that Aunt Emily is wearing him out. He is as good-tempered as ever, and sometimes full of fun, but I dont’fc suppose it can be natural for a man to be so patient under contradiction, however well he may. have been broken in ; and I think if he could go away somewhere, by himself, for a month or two, it would do him a world of good. You know him thoroughly, and love him dearly, so I need say no more, but pass on to his guests, taking them as they go in to dinner, the county people first. Uncle gives his arm to a Mrs. Poster, always ; I can’t think why. She has no particular rank, but is wife of the Master of the Hounds ; perhaps that counts for something down here. I won’t describe her, dear, I’ll only describe her head. An enormous chignon, of so many shades that it is almost , tartan, put on very high up, with odds and ends stuck all over it, like the toys on a twelfth-cake ; a bunch of artificial vegetables, not flowers, drooping on one side ; earrings like thg things they hang on a chandelier ; and spectacles ! How Mr. Poster could ! for really he is rather nice ; oldish, and ridiculous about his hunting, but good-natured and amusing, with a frank courtesy about him, that I think men of all ranks acquire who live a great deal out-of-doors. He is wretched just now, because it is freezing hard and they can’t hunt. I am sure I don’t know why ; any amount of cold must be preferable to the slush we have all been wading about in ever since I came. He is quite the nicest of the gentlemen, for the young ones are rather detestable. A curate from'the other side of the county, who is a wonderful cricketer, I believe, and takes long walks by himself. They say he preaches beautifully, and next Sunday we shall have an opportunity of judging ; as yet I have not heard him open his lips. Also two officers from some cavalry regiment, whose figures, clothes, and voices are so ridiculously alike, and their faces so devoid of all expression, that if the best-looking of the pair had not a trifling squint, it would be impossible to know one

from the other. Should the ice bear tomorrow,' they propose teaching me to skate either or both', I can’t tell which. But for poor-Mr. -Foster and his hunting, I hope it may ; and only wish you were here to enjoy the fun,- as they don’t the least know our form, to use thehi own expression, and that you and I can- hold our own on the Round Pond -with the best, performers who ever danced a minuet on steel. I have not made up my mind whether to pretend I am quite a beginner, or to astonish their weak minds by dashing out at once with a figure of 8, on the outside edge, backwards. My dear, X am coming to the end of my paper. I shall have no space left to describe the rest pf the ladies, two married and one single, all plain, nor a delightful Eton boy, who goes back, I am sorry to say, to-morrow ; nor to give half the messages I should like to your dear General, my partner at whist, my adversary at who never made me angry, and my pattern, next to Baby, for everything that is manly and adorable ; but with many kisses must remain, dearest, darling Letty, Ever your loving, Annie Dennison. P.S.—I forgot to say we expect a Mr. Mortimer to-day, who has been a great traveller, and a clerk from the Foreign Office, whose name I have not yet made out. Freezing hard ; I think the ice will bear to-morrow. No. IT. To Mr. Jo si AS Potteb, the Kennels, Cublington. Plumpton Priors, Jan. 12th. POTrEP., —As there appears but little chance of the weather changing, you had better not send out the appointment for next week. If there is no prospect of improvement, I shall hunt the first open day at the Kennels, and we can give the Blastonbury Woods a good drilling with a strong pack of hounds. I have been thinking over Woldsman’s doings on Saturday, and have come 'to the conclusion we must draft him. Wildboy too. is, I fear, a conceited hound. It is a pity, for I never saw two sightlier ones on the flags. I was much pleased with Frantic and Fearless. They puzzled it out through Martin’s sheep at the back of Oldborough, and were never once off the line all the way to the Dales. They promise to be as good as old Frolic herself. You had better see Mr. Boulter at once about the meal, and tell Frank to go over with the cart to Sludgeley. Martin’s white horse will not keep much longer. I have a letter from the new man at Spinnithorne complaining of the damage done to his young wheat on Thursday, and another from old Miss Lovelace about her poultry. The usual story : a fox has taken nine Dorking hens, a litter of pigs, and a peacock ! As soon as the hacks are roughed, you can go over and talk to the Spinnithorne man, whose name I forget. If he is obstinate, tell him the damage, should there be any, shall be made good when harvest comes round. Miss Lovelace will ho more difficult to manage ; but you might admire the silk dress I gave her last year, and hint at another, if she seems very obstinate indeed. When you are in that neighborhood, ride round by the Lodges and see Colonel Jones’ keeper ; the people from Upper Preston are continually rabbiting in Preston Dene, and it is his business to keep them out. Mr. Miles tells me they found a trap that would have held a bullock in Thorpe Netherwood yesterday. I have written to Sir James on the subject ; but if you see the steward, it would be well to mention it. He is a good friend to hunting and a most respectable man. I cannot think of anything more just now, except that you should call on the bailiff at Kingsacre and find out how many puppies they will walk for us. He promised me two couple at least. We shall want another cow in less than a fortnight, but that may stand over till Middleton .Fair. I shall be home the day after to-morrow, when I can give any further directions you require, and remain, Your friend, John Foster. No. 111. To the Honorable Mrs. Pike, South Kensington, London, S.W. Plumpton Priors, 12th, 18th. DEAR Mes. Pike, — My husband desires me to write and say that it would give us much pleasure if General Pike and yourself would come here next week, from the 17th to the 22nd, to meet a small party of friends and neighbors. There is a midday train from London that reaches Sludgeley Station, only a mile and a half from our gate, at 4.50. You must be sure to change at Muddleford, and if the down express is late you may have to wait there ; but this is better than coming by the new line and posting from Canonsbury. We can send the brougham for yourselves and the omnibus for servants and luggage. Our niece, Miss Dennison, who is staying with us, tells me that she believes I shall be fortunate enough to find you both disengaged ; and hoping fcr an early reply (in -the affirmative), I remain, Yours very sincerely, Emily Dennison. No. IV. To Augustus Neville, Esq., Middlemarsh, Huntingdon. Jan. 11th or 13th. My Dear Podge, —You swore you would write once a week all the holidays through, and so did I ; but you haven’t, and I haven’t. Never mind. Better late than never : old proverb—neither Solomon’s nor Tupper’s. I must tip you a line from here because I go home to-morrow, and there is very little time for writing or anything else in our diggings at this season, when the governor likes to have a houseful, He is going to finish off the pheasants next week, and I made him almost promise that I might shoot with the others. I hare got a gun, a very good one. If it wasn’t for that-I should be quite sorry to leave this place. It is very jolly, particularly in the evenings ; for old Dennison, who is no end of a trump, always has the billiard-room lit up

after dinner ; so if you don't want to be bothered with the ladies, you needn’t go to them at all.

I generally play with Miss Dennison ; such a stunning girl—a good deal older than me, of course—but I can give her ten in a hundred up ; and I play much better on this table than I did that day at your governor’s in London. She sings, too, no end, the jolliest songs, that make a fellow feel quite in the dumps, but always English. She has a very fine voice though, and Lexley, a tall chap, who is staying here, a curate, with black whiskers, is rather spoony on her. He was not an Eton fellow, but played two years ago at Lord’s in the Marylebone eleven. I don’t think he likes us to be so much in the billiard-room, bub he is an awful muff with a cue. I have got suc.h a good hunter this Christmas ; not a pony, but quite fifteen hands. Can’t he just jump ! Only he pulls rather hard ; but I don’t mind that ; and I am to have top-boots next year. I suppose I shan’t see you now till next half, though my governor told me to ask you to come to us if you could, on your way back to Eton. I wish you would, I want to show you the terrier pups and Bellerophon—that’s my new horse. When he gets quieter I will give you a mount on him. Won’t it be jolly if we travel together ? Good-bye. Yours very sincerely, H. G. F. Perigord, Commonly called the Pieman). No. V. To HORACE Maxwell, Esq., Foreign Office, Whitehall, S.W. Plumpton Priors, Jan. 12th. My Dear Horace, You have delayed your visit here so long that I fear I shall be gone before you arive. I take the duty next Sunday, but must return home early Monday morning. I have no idea what happens to foreign treaties and ambassadors’ notes when you neglect them, but a parish gets sadly out of order if it is left to itself for ten days. I have still a hope that you may come tomorrow, particularly as you will receive another reminder from our excellent host, who said at breakfast he had written a strong letter this morning, and I wish it may be possible for you to give me a couple of days at least before you return. I need not say what a hearty welcome would await you, though, alas ! I have only bachelor accommodation to offer. There are many temptations to visit this most agreeable house, and many more to remain in it when you come. Mr. Dennison himself is my ideal of a country gentleman, and his wife, though not so taking at first sight, improves on acquaintance. There is no lack of amusement ; hunting and shooting, for those who like such sports, beautiful walks, even at this time of year, out-of-doors, and an excellent billiard-table within. One of the young ladies, a Miss Dennison, plays remarkably well, and has already taken the conceit out of an Eton boy who is spending part of his holidays here, and who thinks no small beer of himself, as we used to say at Rugby. I am sure the Etonians are more “Cheeky,” to use another slang expression, than our condiscipuli; still, the school turns out some excellent classics, and the Shooting Fields make good cricketers, no doubt. This youth is a manly fellow enough, but I should imagine rather a dunce at his books. Miss Dennison, who is very clever, quizzes him unmercifully, but the young cull has not an atom of shyness, and, indeed, is usually ready with a reply. It is very difficult to describe a lady or a landscape, so much in both depends on lights and coloring ; moreover, it would be a waste of time to detail Miss Dennison’s personal attractions, as you will be able to judge for yourself when you arrive. I shall be much disappointed if you do not admire her. There is a peculiar depth and softness in her eyes when she turns them on you that almost makes one a believer in mesmerism, and with a delicate fair face and masses of rich brown hair, that would be black but for- a tinge of gold, she brings forcibly before me my ideal of female loveliness. You need not laugh. It is only a picture I saw the year before last at Vienna. Her figure, too, and all her movements, are full of grace and dignity. To see her walk across the room is to see—no ! I will not descend into descriptions that could never convey the faintest notion of their subject. Rather will I quote the terse and glowing phrases in which Captains Nolces and Stokes, the great twin brethren of the—th Dragoons, expressed their approval only this morning in the conservatory. Quoth Stokes to Nokes, sucking viciously at a refractory cigar, “ Good looks, good temper, good manners—what would you have more ? and the sweetest goer I’ve seen over rough and smooth since Witch of Erin won the Conynghame Cup.” Answered Nokes to Stokes, “I’m not a buyer, old fellow, more’s the pity ! or she’d suit me down to the ground.” Yet these men are not entirely without cultivation and refinement. One of them sketches admirably in water-colors, and, passing through the library, I came upon the other reading Tasso in the original, apparently with the greatest zest. Why should they talk in such terms of a lady to whom they hourly offer a perfectly chivalrous and unselfish politeness ? I like them both, nevertheless. We took a long walk together yesterday that reminded me of old University days. Of course I love and revere my own profession above all others ; but were I not a parson, my dear Horace, I trust there is no harm in confessing that I should like to have been a soldier. Do not think for a moment I am discontented with my lot ; the obscurest country curate has a field for the exercise of all the best and noblest qualities of manhood. Were my powers increased a hundredfold, they would still fall far short of my requirements. I may have my wishes, who has not ? The angidus ille with me, would probably be such preferment as should enable me to make for myself a home. Have I seen one whom I should like to instal as its mistress ? Again, who knows ? Probably, the real mistress, when she does come, i will be very different from the imaginary one.

And now I have let this letter run to an unconscionable length, yet I feel as if I had not said half I wish. I will inflict on you the balance when we meet, and in the meantime remain as ever, Yours most truly, Algernon Lexley. No. VI. To Major-General J. Pike, &c., South Kensington, London, S.W. Plumvton Priors, Jan. 12th. My Dear Jacob, —My wife has written to yours by to-days post, with a formal invitation to you both. I write to you, as usual, because I want you to do something for me. In the first place, of course you must come here. That question can admit neither of doubt nor argument. If you have other engagements throw them over ; if pleasures, postpone ; if duties, neglect them : here you are bound to be on the 17th at latest. I have kept Marbury Hill on purpose, and my keeper says he has twice as many pheasants in the lower wood as when we shot it last year. That ought to be good enough. If you can hold as stright as you did then, I can promise you a hundred to your own gun. I have been out very little, the incurable complaint of anno domini is beginning to tell, and though I have few bodily ailments, and am still pretty strong and active, that moral energy, which is the backbone of all exertion, fails day by day. That will never be the case with you. They say, though I don’t believe it, a man must die either of syncope or asphyxia by fainting or suffocation. In the same way, age as it steals on makes us year by year more fussy or more torpid. How much better to be the stream that keeps itself pure by ceaselessly dashing and boiling against a rock, than the green slimy pond, never ruffled by a breath, but stagnating calmly and helplessly into mud ! You are the youngest of all our contemporaries. Long may you remain so ! And yet, my dear old friend, it does not seem so many years ago (can it be more than fifty ?) since we won the Double Sculling Sweepstakes, amidst the shouts of my tutor’s levy, at the Brocas Clump. I remember, and so do you, as if it had happened yesterday, how we pounded a Leicestershire field at the second fence from the Coplow ; and yet I doubt if one of those we left behind us is alive now. “ Where is the life that late I led ?” and where, oh ! where are the loves we loved, the sums we squandered, the horses we tired, and the scores of good fellows we have seen out ? “ There’s many a lad I loved is dead, And many a lass grown old, And while the lesson strikes my head My weary heart grows cold. But wine awhile staves off despair Nor lets a thought remain ; And that I think’s a reason fair To fill my glass again.” If we live to a hundred, should we ever forget how poor Frank used to troll out Morris’s famous drinking song after mess ? Alas ! if he could have resisted the filling (and emptying) of his own glass so persistently, we should have had him with us still. I sometimes wished that I had remained in the service, as you did, and married later in life. But I suppose these things are arranged for us, and that every station has its drawbacks- —every horse is handicapped to carry a weight proportioned to his merits. As old Drill-sergeant Macpherson used to say to the recruits, “ It’s not all beer and skittles when you’ve taken her Majesty’s shilling.” And I fancy none of those over whom he domineered were inclined to dispute so obvious a truism. Now to detail the commissions I want executed in London. In the first place, will you go to Lincoln’s Inn, any day this week, and jog everybody’s memory concerning our trustee business ? They seem to have forgotten that another quarter’s interest will be due on the 25th. Also look in at Meerschaum’s and try if you can get me some more of those large cigars we liked in Scotland. I will take any number of boxes—say a dozen—if they are the right sort ; but I will not have short ones. I smoke very little, as you know, but iike that little long. You are sure to be at Tattersall’s, so it will be no trouble to look at Mountjoy’s horses. He has a chestnut that I am told would carry me. You know exactly what I want —something very perfect, with good manners and easy to ride ; a rough-actioned horse tires me to death. He must be a fine jumper, as I like occasionally to mount a friend, and do not wish him to be brought home with a broken neck—at least, as old Bitterly said, “ not-to my house,” A chestnut horse they call Magnate bears the character of an excellent hunter. I will ask you to have him out and look him well over ; if you like his make and shape, you can bid for him up to whatever you think he is worth. I should not mind three hundred ; but you must be very careful, for when you come here you will have to ride him yourself. I know you will like some claret I have just imported—Leoville’64—that will never get any better, and ought to’be drunk out now. _ I think too you will like the little party.staying here. Foster, I fear, will be gone ; it is impossible to keep him more than two days from his hounds and his kennel. He makes a good master, and they have promised him a fair subscription. Potter does pretty well he is an excellent servant, as I told them all they would find him—very patient in the field, very persevering, and lets his hounds alone ; hut he does not get quick after his fox. He never spoils a run and never makes one. I hunt so little now that, of course, I do not say much, but let them find out for themselves. You and I once thought every huntsman heavenborn, every fence practicable, every fox forward, and every hound right. I am not sure but that the enjoyment was greater in those days and the disappointment less. Two pleasant dragoons of the old plunging pattern will remain till Returns, at the end of the month ; they are good fellows enough—ride and shoot straight, make themselves extremely agreeable in the drawing-room, and entertain the profoundest respect for a majorgeneral, which I hope you will do nothing to

lessen. I expect Percy Mortimer to-day (from the Feejee Islands, I believe), and Horace Maxwell, from the Foreign office, both very hungry for shooting. But never fear, not a stick shall be moved in Marbury till you come. My niece Annie is here, and looking forward with great delight to your visit. Ida not know on what principle she has appropriated you, but she always speaks of you as her General. Tell Mrs. Pike, with our kindest regards, that I will never forgive her if she does not bring the baby. There is a steady old rocking-horse still eating his head off under the stairs ; I wish you would both stay till your son is old enough to ride him. And now, my dear fellow, hoping to see you very soon, I remain, yours as ever, John Dennison. No. VII. To Percy Mortimer, Esq., Travellers’ Club Pall Mall, London, S. W. Dear Percy, —Not having seen or heard anything of you since we parted at Meerut, it did knock the wind out of me more than a bit to be told you were expected here this week. I can only hope the tip is a straight one. Come by all means if you can. The crib is craftily constructed, warm, water-tight, and with capacious cellarage. The bedrooms are easy of access, and the stairs made on purpose for after-dinner transport. The host is a trump,, his cook so-so, but happily not too ambitious,, and his liquors simply undeniable. A geological party, by name Lexley, who is getting his health with the rest of us, says it is a clay soil, with a sub-something of something else. Being a scientific cove, you shall argue the point with him when you come. To me it seems a surface of hard frost, with a swamp underneath, that will make the country unrideable when it thaws. In the meantime we are getting the stakes ready, and I—even l—am coming out as “ quite the ladies’ man.” I am to instruct Miss Dennison to-morrow in the graceful art, and can only hope she may take her croppers good-humouredly ; for, as Pat Conolly used to say, “ it’s a mighty slippery hold ye get of the water when ye lay iron to ice.” I shall do my best to keep her head straight, for you don’t often meet them of that stamp. I’m a bad hand at describing a woman, but I’ll be bound you haven’t seen such a shaped one in all the Feejee Islands —and I give you the tattooing in. As to her being pretty and all that, it seems a matter of course; but she has a way of looking round at a poor fellow that makes him feel very glad he’s a bachelor, yet very unwilling to remain one. .Besides, from what Mrs. Dennison let out, she stands a good chance of having a pot of money when some old buffer dies, and he’s past seventy now. Mrs. D. speaks by the card, I fancy ; I know I shouldn’t like to contradict her, and I am sure Dennison wouldn’t. I should say she wants her head at her fences, and would make it very uncomfortable for him if he didn’t mind what he was about. You must say, “ Yes” to her if you wish to sail on an even keel in this house ; and Nokes, who isn’t easily dashed, is obliged to behave quite prettily when she’s got her eyeon him. The niece seems the only person who isn’t afraid of her, and I take it there’s some hard hitting when they do have a turn-up. I don’t understand women, having had very few dealings with them, for which I can’t be too thankful ; but it does seem to me that it takes a woman to tackle a woman, and you can’t do better than let them fight it out. Miss Dennison looks a good-tempered girl too, but no doubt she has lots of pluck. The shooting is fair, considering it’s a hunting country, and Uncle John, as everybody calls our host, is very absolute on the subject of pheasants and foxes. He insists on having the latter, and when he has established that point, he says, he finds no difficulty about the other. It is the only subject on which I have yet heard him hold forth, for he is by no means a noisy one—would rather listen than speak and rather smoke than do either. Nokes, who is also a nailer at holding his tongue, swears by him, of course. I meant to tell you about the country and the hunting, and all that, in case you should bring any horses ; but in this weather shooting and skating irons are the necessary outfit. So I will only add, come if you can ; if not, scrape me off one line to say where I am to draw for you in the village on my way to head-quarters. Yours very truly, Anthony Stokes. To the Hall Porter, Army and Navy Club, S.W. Jan. 12th. Please forward my letters. Address, “Plumpton Priors, Middleton Lacy,” till further orders, instead of putting them in the fire as usual. James Nokes. If people’s characters are to be guessed from their hand-writing, we may fairly suppose that their actual correspondence will afford us something more certain than mere surmise as to their habits, tempers, tastes, and dispositions. It is for this reason we have taken such unwarrantable liberties with the letter-box at Plumpton Priors.