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CHAPTER 11.

THE MANNERS. The Rev. Arthur Manners, Vicar of Narbrough, had, as his second wife had told her new governess, been married twice. The first Mrs Manners had been s cousin of his own, a Manners also, and her only sister had married his brother, Sir Hugh Manners, who was then the head of their house; so there -was a donble connexion between the Vicarage and the Hall. The two sisters, the Baronet's lady and the Vicar's wife, had always been on good terms with each other, for there had been much affection and little jealousy between them, and their children had grown up together as friends and playmates. Lady Manners had two sons, and her sister at the Vicarage a son and a daughter; therefore, after her mother's untimely death, the little Adelaide had naturally felt for her aunt almost the same affection as she had given to her own dead parent, and had lived at the Hall during Lady Manners' lifetime, and that of her uncle, Sir Hugh. The first Mrs Manners' death was very sudden, and occurred when Sir Hugh and Lady Manners happened to be abroad. The poor lady had gone out one chilly day in autumn insufficiently clad, and *f»d-fl*ugh»»«rterrible cold, which ended jn inflammation of the lungs ; and, after a Jiw days of severe suffering, ended in her -death. The Vicar was quite stunned at first

never dreamt of dinner, and had had his laugh and his jest at the dead woman but a few hours before alio had gone. She had, in truth, been oue of those who are always complaining, and the Vicar, who had learnt to hear of ailments without disturbing his composure, now reproached himself for his want of feeling and discernment, and. be«ide«, had that horror of death which those who never think of it generally feel. The person who comforted the motherless children best— who sat by them in bed, and told them not to cry, 'that mamma was far bettor off now,' ' that she was an ans?el in heaven, and that if they were good they would go to her some day •— waa a certain Nelly Dobson, the housemaid of the establishment, and only before remarkable for being very pretty, and rather disorderly. This good-natured creature, however, now became a blessing to them all in their sudden affliction, for she had that gift of sympathy which, wrap ourselves up in our pride as we may, we all feel the want of in the first dark days of grief and bereavement. Nelly comforted the children, and she comforted the Vicar also. If she spread jam on their bread and butter, and roasted them apples, she also mixed his whisky toddy a little stronger than usual : talked to him in her homely fashion, and cheered him in his lonliness and sorrow. Had anyone hinted this to the Vicar three month* after hia wife's death he would have scorned the insinuation. He believed himself to be still sincerely mourning for the dead woman, and so pprhaps, in some tort of way, he was. But we are stransre creatures, and he was already getting rather jealous of a goodlooking young fisherman who ' came ftftpr ' pretty Nelly ; and ho grew ' awfully particular,' bo bin handsome housemaid informed her lover, at this tim* about having the back door locked in early, had the keys (not after his usual careless fashion) brought in each evening, and laid on the dining-room table. He * was going to havfl no idle scamps banging about tho pl*ce,' he slid; and Nelly besran to wonder what was coming over the good-natured 'master. 1 Thiuers went on pretty much in the sime way for another six months. Lady Manners came home, and the children went up daily with their nursemaid to the Hall. Then gradually— little by little— the parson and hia pretty housemaid began to be talked about. The nurse tossed up her head one day, and said to the housekeeper at *he Hall — 1 We could not come before, as Nelly wanted the children for eomething or other, and must needs be obeyed. Nelly, indeed ! set her up with her airs and her graces, that one should have to run after her ! It's a little too muck, isn't it ? I would like to know who gave her the fine brooch she sports, and the blue silk. I should'nt wonder— well, I'll say no more. Those who live lonsict see the most, they B>y ; but if I was my lady, I'd send her packing in double quick time.' These things came to my lady's ears after p while, but che was too haughty a woman to pay much attention to such reports. 'They talk about your brother and some girl dotvD at the Vicarage, Husrh,' at last she said to her husband, ' Had you not better speak to him about it ?" I The jolly red-faned baronet burst into a horse-laugh at the Lidy's information. ' What geese you women are,' he said, ' and what a fuss you make about things ! Arthur likes a pretty girl as wp all do ; it's in the family, my lady. But leave him alone. Ho isn't such a fool.' Sir Hugh meant he was not such a* fool to marry Nelly, and the whole countryBide said the came thing. This universal opinion was not long, we ma> be Hure, in reaching pretty Nelly herself. But she was a good girl, and had had a good mother, and therefore did not care much about their gossip ; yet she acted on it. ' Master, lam going to leave you, 1 she oaid one night to the Vicar, after she had lit his pipe and stirred his fire, turning away her head as she spoke. • What the deuce d'ye mean by that, Nelly ?' ho asked, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and staring at bis handsome housemaid. ' Ju»t what I pay,' answered Nelly. 'Folks are talking about you and mo, and although they have no call, I don't mind Hiving the occasion ; so I am going away.' The parson put his pipe back into his mouth, aud puffed vigorously for a few minutes. 4 Why d'ye mind such meddlesome fools ?' he said at length. • An honest girl minds her good name,' 6&id Nelly, but I know he love? me, with a tear gathering in her bright blue eye. ' Where will you go ?' asked the Vicar nfter another p<inse. ' Home first,' replied the giri, hesitating ; ' and then, maybe ' 'What then?' said tho Rev. Arthur Manners. 1 Perhaps— l'll get wed.' 'What! to that idle scoundrel, Jim Robinson ?' aaid tho Vicar, riHing in great wrath. ' Nelly, arc you such a fool as that ?— .such an idiot ? You know he'« a worthless fellow— a bad character.' 'I know nought about it,' replied Nelly, poor fellow, and would marry me to-morrow.' Upon this he spoke — •I know other fools who would do that, too, Nelly, rather than lose thee, I think,' half groaned the vicar. • Sit down, my la«sie, and we'll talk it over.' So it was brought about ; and some ten days after this conversation, Ellenor Dob«on, of the parish of Narbrough, was nwrried in tho village church to Arthur Manners, vicar of the sanae. Lady Manners was furious, and wrote nuch a letter to the vicar while on bit wedding tour, that he never forgave it. 'Sir,' she addressed him — 'Since you have chosen to disgrace yourself by such a marriage as you have made, I have taken my dead sister's children away from the pollution and misery of a home like yours cannot fail to be in future. Elizabeth Manners.' The vicar, however, was not behindhand. ' Madam,' he wrote in reply — ' I have married a respectable woman, which is more than can bo said of most of your class ; and I mean to have back my own children, as I do not choose Adelaide to be brought up quito Kuch a fool as yourself. Arthur Manners.' The little Adelaide, however, positively refused to leave her aunt. She cried, and screamed, and kicked, by turns, when attempts were raado to remove her after her father's return to tho Vicarage ; and at last it ended in the baronet himlelf going on a peaoe-making visit to his brother. 1 Why, old fellow,' he said, in his jolly way, 'so you've stolen a march on us. Ah, Arthur, you're a sly dog. What! you had an eye for a pretty lass, had you ? Well, well, no harm in that : and don't you mind all the stiff-backed nonsense my lady wrote yon. Yon see, the women are sure to be angry.' ♦ Elizabeth insulted me,' said the vicar, stiffly. Th* bwonet laughed. •I'm a bit used to that, 1 he said, shrugging his shoulders. * Besides, it strikes me, old lad, you paid her baolt in her own coin. But about little Addy ? Th« child won't leave her aunt ; and till thii blows over awhile, hadn't you better let her stay V 1 Nelly is a poor airl,' said the vicar, •and I'm not ashamed of her." <X tya't ftrabt it, J gw't 6<ratt it!

But come, Arthur, don't vex the little girl. You see Elizabeth naturally wishes to have poor Ann's ohild near her, nod by-and-by it will bo all right.' It was settled after this amicably enough. Adelaide was to live with her auut for the present, and George, the son, was to return to tho Vioarage ; but the baronet gladly offered to his young nephew the same advantages as his own boys enjoyed, and for many years George Manners went daily up to the hall to be instructed by th« various tutors who superintpnded the education of bis cousins George and Hugh. Thus the young Manners of both families were always together, and as time went on, and blooming children were born at the Vicarage, the Vicar ceased to wish that his eldest daughter should return to him ; conscious, perhaps, that a well-bred woman like Lady Manners would be a better chaperone for a young lady who had her way to make in the world, than his good-natured Nelly. But terriblo changed, which none of them foresaw, were looming in the distance, and Adelaide, throueh these unfortunate circumstances, had been compelled to return to her father's house. The first great break which occurred amongst them was when the three young men went together to college. Lady Manners, in her fond maternal pride, had up to this time positively resisted sending her darling boys to any public school ; so one unfortunate private tutor after the other had been badgered and tormented by the unruly young Manners. But eveu *he could not deny the advantage of a college education ; and though unwillingly, at last gave her consent that they should go, and the threo young men started together for Cambridge, where, unprepared by tho experience of any great school, they only too readily fell into every temptation and expensive amusement which was offered to them. They had a disastrous career In his second year, Walter, the heir, wa> publicly expelled for come open violation of tha college rules ; and Hu?h, the second son, indignint at the treatment which his brother had received, left Cambridge without attempting to pass his examination, and wis by his own wish transferred to Sandhurst, from whence in due time he entered the army, and joined a regiment of infantry which shortly afterwards wad ordered to India. Meanwhile th« (.iron 1 i>id unruly young heir had positively refund to return to Narbrough after his dingidce. He went up to town, and joined there the fastest of fast net* ; living such a life that even the faint whisper* of bin exploits which reached home served to fill his mother's heart with the direst apprehensions, and drove the poor Baronet yet deeper into that fatal infatuation, whioh ultimately clouded his intelleots and caused his death. Amid all Lidy Manners' anxiety, however, she continued conscientiously to do what she considered her duty to her dead sister's child. Adelaide went to all the ' county ' balls and all the ' good houses ' in the neighbourhood, escorted by her careful auut. She had grown up a fine showy girl, without being absolutely handsome. A true Manners, in fact, with the family high regular features, dark eyes, and same sallow complexion. People said she just missed being a beauty, and wanted a certaiu softness of expression which should have made her oue. But she was not generally admired The young Northumbrian squires considered her too sharp-tongued and sarcastic to be very agreeable and, though with every wish to attract, Adelaide Manners had had few lovers ; those who E resented themselves being considered oth by herself and her aunt as beneath her pretensions. Thus time went on, and just when she was about twenty-three such news came to Narbrough that Lady Manners wai never the same woman any more. It was ' Accidental ;' so the jury who held the inquest on the two young bodies ' decided. But how accidental ' 1 The gentlemen were elevated,' one of the witnesses said, elevated when they started, six of them, on a rowing expedition up the Thames, an expedition from which some of them were fated never to return. They waited till the moon arose before they commenced their homeward journey, and by this time utterly incapable of managing their boat, trusted themselves on the smooth and shining water. How it happened the survivors were unable to tell. But an accident occured, and the boat wa3 upset, and each found himself struggling for his life. Four of them contrived to swim or scramble to the banks, but two were missing, and one of them was the young heir of Narbrongh. They did not find his body for two days ; not until the weeping mother and half-stupified father had come to the fatal spot. Then, even as they were standing by, the men in the boats who were dragging the river called out they had got one of them— and Wnlter Manners, his handsome young face all befouled with mud and slime, was drawn up almost under their very eyes, and laid upon the bank. No wouder Lady Manners sank under it. No wonder the poor Baronet drank ten times deeper than before. After this there was but little gaiety for Adelaide Manners, for her aunt became a confirmed invalid, and Sir Hugh cared little for society excepting that of his boon companions and his brother at the Vicarage. In these latter years, therefore, Adelaide had seen a little more of her father, an.l something of her stepmother and half sisters. But she had no fellowship with them. She belonged to a different class, she said, and thought and considered it an act of duty (something like she did going to church) to call on 'poor Mr* Manners,' as she usually named her father's wife. But Lady Manners died about eighteen months after her son's death ; and Sir Hugh, with whom she continued to reside, became daily more unmanageable. She then wrote for her cousin to return from India ; and after some delay, Hugh Manners obeyed her summons and sold out of the army. He used to come down to Narbrough and stay with them sometimes during the last Bix months of the Baronet's life, but lived principally in London, where it was said he was following almost the same career as his unfortunato brother. When the end of all Sir Hugh's merry nights suddenly came, Adelaide returned to her father's house, and had been its professed inmate for almost a year when Miss Williams arrived ; but during this time she had been really very little at the Vicarage. Her aunt's old friends, compassionating her situation, frequently invited her to their country houses; and a Lady Lulbourne, their neighbour and friend of many years standing, had during the last season, taken her for a long visit to town, where she had naturally seen much of her cousin, the present Baronet. Thus only for » few weeks at a, time had Miss Manners generally remained at her homo; and she was absent on a visit to some relatives when Miss Williams first came to Narbrough. In the meanwhile her brother, George Manners, had been leading a widely different life. Brought up with his wealthy cousins, and liberally supplied with money by his generous uncle, he had never realised in his boyhood or youth how vast was the difference which really lay between his social position and ttieirf, Jt to* only whw starts ty

Walter's misconduct, and terribly shocked by his untimely death, that George, breaking through the heavy trammels of bad society and early education, set himself fairly to work, and passed a more than ordinarily creditable examination at the university ; and returned to Narbrough laden with honours and with debt.

(To be continued.}

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18860109.2.36.1

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2107, 9 January 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

Word count
Tapeke kupu
2,807

CHAPTER II. Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2107, 9 January 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER II. Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2107, 9 January 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

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