Miss Sarah Jack of Spanish Town, Jamaica

by Anthony Trollope

There is nothing so melancholy as a country in its decadence, unlessit be a people in their decadence. I am not aware that the lattermisfortune can be attributed to the Anglo-Saxon race in any part ofthe world; but there is reason to fear that it has fallen on anEnglish colony in the island of Jamaica.Jamaica was one of those spots on which fortune shone with the fullwarmth of all her noonday splendour. That sun has set;--whether forever or no none but a prophet can tell; but as far as a plain man maysee, there are at present but few signs of a coming morrow, or ofanother summer.It is not just or proper that one should grieve over the misfortunesof Jamaica with a stronger grief because her savannahs are so lovely,her forests so rich, her mountains so green, and he rivers so rapid;but it is so. It is piteous that a land so beautiful should be onewhich fate has marked for misfortune. Had Guiana, with its flat,level, unlovely soil, become poverty-stricken, one would hardlysorrow over it as one does sorrow for Jamaica.As regards scenery she is the gem of the western tropics. It isimpossible to conceive spots on the earth's surface more gracious tothe eye than those steep green valleys which stretch down to thesouth-west from the Blue Mountain peak towards the sea; and butlittle behind these in beauty are the rich wooded hills which in thewestern part of the island divide the counties of Hanover andWestmoreland. The hero of the tale which I am going to tell was asugar-grower in the latter district, and the heroine was a girl wholived under that Blue Mountain peak.The very name of a sugar-grower as connected with Jamaica savours offruitless struggle, failure, and desolation. And from his earliestgrowth fruitless struggle, failure, and desolation had been the lotof Maurice Cumming. At eighteen years of age he had been left by hisfather sole possessor of the Mount Pleasant estate, than which in herpalmy days Jamaica had little to boast of that was more pleasant ormore palmy. But those days had passed by before Roger Cumming, thefather of our friend, had died.These misfortunes coming on the head of one another, at intervals ofa few years, had first stunned and then killed him. His slaves roseagainst him, as they did against other proprietors around him, andburned down his house and mills, his homestead and offices. Thosewho know the amount of capital which a sugar-grower must invest insuch buildings will understand the extent of this misfortune. Thenthe slaves were emancipated. It is not perhaps possible that we,now-a-days, should regard this as a calamity; but it was quiteimpossible that a Jamaica proprietor of those days should not havedone so. Men will do much for philanthropy, they will work hard,they will give the coat from their back;--nay the very shirt fromtheir body; but few men will endure to look on with satisfactionwhile their commerce is destroyed.But even this Mr. Cumming did bear after a while, and kept hisshoulder to the wheel. He kept his shoulder to the wheel till thatthird misfortune came upon him--till the protection duty on Jamaicasugar was abolished. Then he turned his face to the wall and died.His son at this time was not of age, and the large but lesseningproperty which Mr. Cumming left behind him was for three years in thehands of trustees. But nevertheless Maurice, young as he was,managed the estate. It was he who grew the canes, and made thesugar;--or else failed to make it. He was the "Massa" to whom thefree Negroes looked as the source from whence their wants should besupplied, notwithstanding that, being free, they were ill inclined towork for him, let his want of work be ever so sore.Mount Pleasant had been a very large property. In addition to hissugar-canes Mr. Cumming had grown coffee; for his land ran up intothe hills of Trelawney to that altitude which in the tropics seemsnecessary for the perfect growth of the coffee berry. But it soonbecame evident that labour for the double produce could not be had,and the coffee plantation was abandoned. Wild brush and the thickundergrowth of forest reappeared on the hill-sides which had beenrich with produce. And the evil re-created and exaggerated itself.Negroes squatted on the abandoned property; and being able to livewith abundance from their stolen gardens, were less willing than everto work in the cane pieces.And thus things went from bad to worse. In the good old times Mr.Cumming's sugar produce had spread itself annually over some threehundred acres; but by degrees this dwindle down to half that extentof land. And then in those old golden days they had always taken afull hogshead from the acre;--very often more. The estate hadsometimes given four hundred hogsheads in the year. But in the daysof which we now speak the crop had fallen below fifty.At this time Maurice Cumming was eight-and-twenty, and it is hardlytoo much to say that misfortune had nearly crushed him. Butnevertheless it had not crushed him. He, and some few like him, hadstill hoped against hope; had still persisted in looking forward to afuture for the island which once was so generous with its gifts.When his father died he might still have had enough for the wants oflife had he sold his property for what it would fetch. There wasmoney in England, and the remains of large wealth. But he would notsacrifice Mount Pleasant or abandon Jamaica; and now after ten years'struggling he still kept Mount Pleasant, and the mill was stillgoing; but all other property had parted from his hands.By nature Maurice Cumming would have been gay and lively, a man witha happy spirit and easy temper; but struggling had made him silent ifnot morose, and had saddened if not soured his temper. He had livedalone at Mount Pleasant, or generally alone. Work or want of money,and the constant difficulty of getting labour for his estate, hadleft him but little time for a young man's ordinary amusements. Ofthe charms of ladies' society he had known but little. Very many ofthe estates around him had been absolutely abandoned, as was the casewith his own coffee plantation, and from others men had sent awaytheir wives and daughters. Nay, most of the proprietors had gonethemselves, leaving an overseer to extract what little might yet beextracted out of the property. It too often happened that thatlittle was not sufficient to meet the demands of the overseerhimself.The house at Mount Pleasant had been an irregular, low-roofed,picturesque residence, built with only one floor, and surrounded onall sides by large verandahs. In the old days it had always beenkept in perfect order, but now this was far from being the case. Fewyoung bachelors can keep a house in order, but no bachelor young orold can do so under such a doom as that of Maurice Cumming. Everyshilling that Maurice Cumming could collect was spent in bribingNegroes to work for him. But bribe as he would the Negroes would notwork. "No, Massa: me pain here; me no workee to-day," and Sambowould lay his fat hand on his fat stomach.I have said that he lived generally alone. Occasionally his house onMount Pleasant was enlivened by visits of an aunt, a maiden sister ofhis mother, whose usual residence was at Spanish Town. It is orshould be known to all men that Spanish Town was and is the seat ofJamaica legislature.But Maurice was not over fond of his relative. In this he was bothwrong and foolish, for Miss Sarah Jack--such was her name--was inmany respects a good woman, and was certainly a rich woman. It istrue that she was not a handsome woman, nor a fashionable woman, norperhaps altogether an agreeable woman. She was tall, thin, ungainly,and yellow. Her voice, which she used freely, was harsh. She was apolitician and a patriot. She regarded England as the greatest ofcountries, and Jamaica as the greatest of colonies. But much as sheloved England she was very loud in denouncing what she called theperfidy of the mother to the brightest of her children. And much asshe loved Jamaica she was equally severe in her taunts against thoseof her brother-islanders who would not believe that the island mightyet flourish as it had flourished in her father's days."It is because you and men like you will not do your duty by yourcountry," she had said some score of times to Maurice--not with muchjustice considering the laboriousness of his life.But Maurice knew well what she meant. "What could I do there up atSpanish Town," he would answer, "among such a pack as there arethere? Here I may do something."And then she would reply with the full swing of her eloquence, "It isbecause you and such as you think only of yourself and not ofJamaica, that Jamaica has come to such a pass as this. Why is therea pack there as you call them in the honourable House of Assembly?Why are not the best men in the island to be found there, as the bestmen in England are to be found in the British House of Commons? Apack, indeed! My father was proud of a seat in that house, and Iremember the day, Maurice Cumming, when your father also thought itno shame to represent his own parish. If men like you, who have astake in the country, will not go there, of course the house isfilled with men who have no stake. If they are a pack, it is you whosend them there;--you, and others like you."All had its effect, though at the moment Maurice would shrug hisshoulders and turn away his head from the torrent of the lady'sdiscourse. But Miss Jack, though she was not greatly liked, wasgreatly respected. Maurice would not own that she convinced him; butat last he did allow his name to be put up as candidate for his ownparish, and in due time he became a member of the honourable House ofAssembly in Jamaica.This honour entails on the holder of it the necessity of living at orwithin reach of Spanish Town for some ten weeks towards the chose ofevery year. Now on the whole face of the uninhabited globe there isperhaps no spot more dull to look at, more Lethean in its aspect,more corpse-like or more cadaverous than Spanish Town. It is thehead-quarters of the government, the seat of the legislature, theresidence of the governor;--but nevertheless it is, as it were, acity of the very dead.Here, as we have said before, lived Miss Jack in a large forlornghost-like house in which her father and all her family had livedbefore her. And as a matter of course Maurice Cumming when he cameup to attend to his duties as a member of the legislature took up hisabode with her.Now at the time of which we are specially speaking he had completedthe first of these annual visits. He had already benefited hiscountry by sitting out one session of the colonial parliament, andhad satisfied himself that he did no other good than that of keepingaway some person more objectionable than himself. He was howeverprepared to repeat this self-sacrifice in a spirit of patriotism forwhich he received a very meagre meed of eulogy from Miss Jack, and anamount of self-applause which was not much more extensive."Down at Mount Pleasant I can do something," he would say over andover again, "but what good can any man do up here?""You can do your duty," Miss Jack would answer, "as others did beforeyou when the colony was made to prosper." And then they would runoff into a long discussion about free labour and protective duties.But at the present moment Maurice Cumming had another vexation on hismind over and above that arising from his wasted hours at SpanishTown, and his fruitless labours at Mount Pleasant. He was in love,and was not altogether satisfied with the conduct of his lady-love.Miss Jack had other nephews besides Maurice Cumming, and nieces also,of whom Marian Leslie was one. The family of the Leslies lived upnear Newcastle--in the mountains, that is, which stand over Kingston--at a distance of some eighteen miles from Kingston, but in a climateas different from that of the town as the climate of Naples is fromthat of Berlin. In Kingston the heat is all but intolerablethroughout the year, by day and by night, in the house and out of it.In the mountains round Newcastle, some four thousand feet above thesea, it is merely warm during the day, and cool enough at night tomake a blanket desirable.It is pleasant enough living up amongst those green mountains. Thereare no roads there for wheeled carriages, nor are there carriageswith or without wheels. All journeys are made on horseback. Everyvisit paid from house to house is performed in this manner. Ladiesyoung and old live before dinner in their riding-habits. Thehospitality is free, easy, and unembarrassed. The scenery ismagnificent. The tropical foliage is wild and luxuriant beyondmeasure. There may be enjoyed all that a southern climate has tooffer of enjoyment, without the penalties which such enjoymentsusually entail.Mrs. Leslie was a half-sister of Miss Jack, and Miss Jack had been ahalf-sister also of Mrs. Cumming; but Mrs. Leslie and Mrs. Cumminghad in no way been related. And it had so happened that up to theperiod of his legislative efforts Maurice Cumming had seen nothing ofthe Leslies. Soon after his arrival at Spanish Town he had beentaken by Miss Jack to Shandy Hall, for so the residence of theLeslies was called, and having remained there for three days, hadfallen in love with Marian Leslie. Now in the West Indies all youngladies flirt; it is the first habit of their nature--and few youngladies in the West Indies were more given to flirting, or understoodthe science better than Marian Leslie.Maurice Cumming fell violently in love, and during his first visit atShandy Hall found that Marian was perfection--for during this firstvisit her propensities were exerted altogether in his own favour.That little circumstance does make such a difference in a young man'sjudgment of a girl! He came back fall of admiration, not altogetherto Miss Jack's dissatisfaction; for Miss Jack was willing enough thatboth her nephew and her niece should settle down into married life.But then Maurice met his fair one at a governor's ball--at a ballwhere red coats abounded, and aides-de-camp dancing in spurs, andnarrow-waisted lieutenants with sashes or epaulettes! The aides-de-camp and narrow-waisted lieutenants waltzed better than he did; andas one after the other whisked round the ball-room with Marian firmlyclasped in his arms, Maurice's feelings were not of the sweetest.Nor was this the worst of it. Had the whisking been divided equallyamong ten, he might have forgiven it; but there was one speciallynarrow-waisted lieutenant, who towards the end of the evening keptMarian nearly wholly to himself. Now to a man in love, who has hadbut little experience of either balls or young ladies, this isintolerable.He only met her twice after that before his return to Mount Pleasant,and on the first occasion that odious soldier was not there. But aspecially devout young clergyman was present, an unmarried,evangelical, handsome young curate fresh from England; and Marian'spiety had been so excited that she had cared for no one else. Itappeared moreover that the curate's gifts for conversion wereconfined, as regarded that opportunity, to Marion's advantage. "Iwill have nothing more to say to her," said Maurice to himself,scowling. But just as he went away Marian had given him her hand,and called him Maurice--for she pretended that they were cousins--andhad looked into his eyes and declared that she did hope that theassembly at Spanish Town would soon be sitting again. Hitherto, shesaid, she had not cared one straw about it. Then poor Mauricepressed the little fingers which lay within his own, and swore thathe would be at Shandy Hall on the day before his return to MountPleasant. So he was; and there he found the narrow-waistedlieutenant, not now bedecked with sash and epaulettes, but lolling athis ease on Mrs. Leslie's sofa in a white jacket, while Marian sat athis feet telling his fortune with a book about flowers."Oh, a musk rose, Mr. Ewing; you know what a musk rose means!" Thenshe got up and shook hands with Mr. Cumming; but her eyes still wentaway to the white jacket and the sofa. Poor Maurice had often beennearly broken-hearted in his efforts to manage his free blacklabourers; but even that was easier than managing such as MarionLeslie.Marian Leslie was a Creole--as also were Miss Jack and MauriceCumming--a child of the tropics; but by no means such a child astropical children are generally thought to be by us in more northernlatitudes. She was black-haired and black-eyed, but her lips were asred and her cheeks as rosy as though she had been born and bred inregions where the snow lies in winter. She was a small, pretty,beautifully made little creature, somewhat idle as regards the workof the world, but active and strong enough when dancing or ridingwere required from her. Her father was a banker, and was fairlyprosperous in spite of the poverty of his country. His house ofbusiness was at Kingston, and he usually slept there twice a week;but he always resided at Shandy Hall, and Mrs. Leslie and herchildren knew but very little of the miseries of Kingston. For be itknown to all men, that of all towns Kingston, Jamaica, is the mostmiserable.I fear that I shall have set my readers very much against MarianLeslie;--much more so than I would wish to do. As a rule they willnot know how thoroughly flirting is an institution in the WestIndies--practised by all young ladies, and laid aside by them whenthey marry, exactly as their young-lady names and young-lady habitsof various kinds are laid aside. All I would say of Marian Leslie isthis, that she understood the working of the institution morethoroughly than others did. And I must add also in her favour thatshe did not keep her flirting for sly corners, nor did her admirerskeep their distance till Mamma was out of the way. It mattered notto her who was present. Had she been called on to make one at asynod of the clergy of the island, she would have flirted with thebishop before all his priests. And there have been bishops in thecolony who would not have gainsayed her!But Maurice Cumming did not rightly calculate all this; nor indeeddid Miss Jack do so as thoroughly as she should have done, for MissJack knew more about such matters than did poor Maurice. "If youlike Marion, why don't you marry her?"Miss Jack had once said to him; and this coming from Miss Jack, whowas made of money, was a great deal."She wouldn't have me," Maurice had answered."That's more than you know or I either," was Miss Jack's reply. "Butif you like to try, I'll help you."With reference to this, Maurice as he left Miss Jack's residence onhis return to Mount Pleasant, had declared that Marian Leslie was notworth an honest man's love."Psha!" Miss Jack replied; "Marian will do like other girls. Whenyou marry a wife I suppose you mean to be master?""At any rate I shan't marry her," said Maurice. And so he went hisway back to Hanover with a sore heart. And no wonder, for that wasthe very day on which Lieutenant Ewing had asked the question aboutthe musk rose.But there was a dogged constancy of feeling about Maurice which couldnot allow him to disburden himself of his love. When he was again atMount Pleasant among his sugar-canes and hogsheads he could not helpthinking about Marian. It is true he always thought of her as flyinground that ball-room in Ewing's arms, or looking up with raptadmiration into that young parson's face; and so he got but littlepleasure from his thoughts. But not the less was he in love withher;--not the less, though he would swear to himself three times inthe day that for no earthly consideration would he marry MarianLeslie.The early months of the year from January to May are the busiest witha Jamaica sugar-grower, and in this year they were very busy monthswith Maurice Cumming. It seemed as though there were actually sometruth in Miss Jack's prediction that prosperity would return to himif he attended to his country; for the prices of sugar had risenhigher than they had ever been since the duty had been withdrawn, andthere was more promise of a crop at Mount Pleasant than he had seensince his reign commenced. But then the question of labour? How heslaved in trying to get work from those free Negroes; and alas! howoften he slaved in vain! But it was not all in vain; for as thingswent on it became clear to him that in this year he would, for thefirst time since he commenced, obtain something like a return fromhis land. What if the turning-point had come, and things were nowabout to run the other way.But then the happiness which might have accrued to him from thissource was dashed by his thoughts of Marian Leslie. Why had hethrown himself in the way of that Syren? Why had he left MountPleasant at all? He knew that on his return to Spanish Town hisfirst work would be to visit Shandy Hall; and yet he felt that of allplaces in the island, Shandy Hall was the last which he ought tovisit.And then about the beginning of May, when he was hard at work turningthe last of his canes into sugar and rum, he received his annualvisit from Miss Jack. And whom should Miss Jack bring with her butMr. Leslie."I'll tell you what it is," said Miss Jack; "I have spoken to Mr.Leslie about you and Marian.""Then you had no business to do anything of the kind," said Maurice,blushing up to his ears."Nonsense," replied Miss Jack, "I understand what I am about. Ofcourse Mr. Leslie will want to know something about the estate.""Then he may go back as wise as he came, for he'll learn nothing fromme. Not that I have anything to hide.""So I told him. Now there are a large family of them, you see; andof course he can't give Marian much.""I don't care a straw if he doesn't give her a shilling. If shecared for me, or I for her, I shouldn't look after her for hermoney.""But a little money is not a bad thing, Maurice," said Miss Jack, whoin her time had had a good deal, and had managed to take care of it."It is all one to me.""But what I was going to say is this--hum--ha. I don't like topledge myself for fear I should raise hopes which mayn't befulfilled.""Don't pledge yourself to anything, aunt, in which Marian Leslie andI are concerned.""But what I was going to say is this; my money, what little I have,you know, must go some day either to you or to the Leslies.""You may give all to them if you please.""Of course I may, and I dare say I shall," said Miss Jack, who wasbeginning to be irritated. "But at any rate you might have thecivility to listen to me when I am endeavouring to put you on yourlegs. I am sure I think about nothing else, morning, noon, andnight, and yet I never get a decent word from you. Marian is toogood for you; that's the truth."But at length Miss Jack was allowed to open her budget, and to makeher proposition; which amounted to this--that she had already toldMr. Leslie that she would settle the bulk of her property conjointlyon Maurice and Marian if they would make a match of it. Now as Mr.Leslie had long been casting a hankering eye after Miss Jack's money,with a strong conviction however that Maurice Cumming was herfavourite nephew and probable heir, this proposition was notunpalatable. So he agreed to go down to Mount Pleasant and lookabout him."But you may live for the next thirty years, my dear Miss Jack," Mr.Leslie had said."Yes, I may," Miss Jack replied, looking very dry."And I am sure I hope you will," continued Mr. Leslie. And then thesubject was allowed to drop; for Mr. Leslie knew that it was notalways easy to talk to Miss Jack on such matters.Miss Jack was a person in whom I think we may say that the goodpredominated over the bad. She was often morose, crabbed, and self-opinionated. but then she knew her own imperfections, and forgavethose she loved for evincing their dislike of them. Maurice Cummingwas often inattentive to her, plainly showing that he was worried byher importunities and ill at ease in her company. But she loved hernephew with all her heart; and though she dearly liked to tyranniseover him, never allow herself to be really angry with him, though heso frequently refused to bow to her dictation. And she loved MarianLeslie also, though Marian was so sweet and lovely and she herself soharsh and ill-favoured. She loved Marian, though Marian would oftenbe impertinent. She forgave the flirting, the light-heartedness, thelove of amusement. Marian, she said to herself, was young andpretty. She, Miss Jack, had never known Marian's temptation. And soshe resolved in her own mind that Marian should be made a good andhappy woman;--but always as the wife of Maurice Cumming.But Maurice turned a deaf ear to all these good tidings--or rather heturned to them an ear that seemed to be deaf. He dearly, ardentlyloved that little flirt; but seeing that she was a flirt, that shehad flirted so grossly when he was by, he would not confess his loveto a human being. He would not have it known that he was wasting hisheart for a worthless little chit, to whom every man was the same--except that those were most eligible whose toes were the lightest andtheir outside trappings the brightest. That he did love her he couldnot help, but he would not disgrace himself by acknowledging it.He was very civil to Mr. Leslie, but he would not speak a word thatcould be taken as a proposal for Marian. It had been part of MissJack's plan that the engagement should absolutely be made down thereat Mount Pleasant, without any reference to the young lady; butMaurice could not be induced to break the ice. So he took Mr. Lesliethrough his mills and over his cane-pieces, talked to him about thelaziness of the "Niggers," while the "Niggers" themselves stood bytittering, and rode with him away to the high grounds where thecoffee plantation had been in the good old days; but not a word wassaid between them about Marian. And yet Marian was never out of hisheart.And then came the day on which Mr. Leslie was to go back to Kingston."And you won't have her then?" said Miss Jack to her nephew earlythat morning. "You won't be said by me?""Not in this matter, aunt.""Then you will live and die a poor man; you mean that, I suppose?""It's likely enough that I shall. There's this comfort, at any rate,I'm used to it." And then Miss Jack was silent again for a while."Very well, sir; that's enough," she said angrily. And then shebegan again. "But, Maurice, you wouldn't have to wait for my death,you know." And she put out her hand and touched his arm, entreatinghim as it were to yield to her. "Oh, Maurice," she said, "I do sowant to make you comfortable. Let us speak to Mr. Leslie."But Maurice would not. He took her hand and thanked her, but saidthat on this matter he must he his own master. "Very well, sir," sheexclaimed, "I have done. In future you may manage for yourself. Asfor me, I shall go back with Mr. Leslie to Kingston." And so shedid. Mr. Leslie returned that day, taking her with him. When hetook his leave, his invitation to Maurice to come to Shandy Hall wasnot very pressing. "Mrs. Leslie and the children will always be gladto see you," said he."Remember me very kindly to Mrs. Leslie and the children," saidMaurice. And so they parted."You have brought me down here on a regular fool's errand," said Mr.Leslie, on their journey back to town."It will all come right yet," replied Miss Jack. "Take my word forit he loves her.""Fudge," said Mr. Leslie. But he could not afford to quarrel withhis rich connection.In spite of all that he had said and thought to the contrary, Mauricedid look forward during the remainder of the summer to his return toSpanish Town with something like impatience, it was very dull work,being there alone at Mount Pleasant; and let him do what he would toprevent it, his very dreams took him to Shandy Hall. But at last theslow time made itself away, and he found himself once more in hisaunt's house.A couple of days passed and no word was said about the Leslies. Onthe morning of the third day he determined to go to Shandy Hall.Hitherto he had never been there without staying for the night; buton this occasion he made up his mind to return the same day. "Itwould not be civil of me not to go there," he said to his aunt."Certainly not," she replied, forbearing to press the matter further."But why make such a terrible hard day's work of it?""Oh, I shall go down in the cool, before breakfast; and then I neednot have the bother of taking a bag."And in this way he started. Miss Jack said nothing further; but shelonged in her heart that she might be at Marian's elbow unseen duringthe visit.He found them all at breakfast, and the first to welcome him at thehall door was Marian. "Oh, Mr. Cumming, we are so glad to see you;"and she looked into his eyes with a way she had, that was enough tomake a man's heart wild. But she not call him Maurice now.Miss Jack had spoken to her sister, Mrs. Leslie, as well as to Mr.Leslie, about this marriage scheme. "Just let them alone," was Mrs.Leslie's advice. "You can't alter Marian by lecturing her. If theyreally love each other they'll come together; and if they don't, whythen they'd better not.""And you really mean that you're going back to Spanish Town to-day?"said Mrs. Leslie to her visitor."I'm afraid I must. Indeed I haven't brought my things with me."And then he again caught Marian's eye, and began to wish that hisresolution had not been so sternly made."I suppose you are so fond of that House of Assembly," said Marian,"that you cannot tear yourself away for more than one day. You'llnot be able, I suppose, to find time to come to our picnic nextweek?"Maurice said he feared that he should not have time to go to apicnic."Oh, nonsense," said Fanny--one of the younger girls--"you must come.We can't do without him, can we?""Marian has got your name down the first on the list of thegentlemen," said another."Yes; and Captain Ewing's second," said Bell, the youngest."I'm afraid I must induce your sister to alter her list," saidMaurice, in his sternest manner. "I cannot manage to go, and I'msure she will not miss me."Marion looked at the little girl who had so unfortunately mentionedthe warrior's name, and the little girl knew that she had sinned."Oh, we cannot possibly do without you; can we, Marian?" said Fanny."It's to be at Bingley's Dell, and we've got a bed for you atNewcastle; quite near, you know.""And another for--" began Bell, but she stopped herself."Go away to your lessons, Bell," said Marion. "You know how angryMamma will be at your staying here all the morning;" and poor Bellwith a sorrowful look left the room."We are all certainly very anxious that you should come; very anxiousfor a great many reasons," said Marian, in a voice that was rathersolemn, and as though the matter were one of considerable import."But if you really cannot, why of course there is no more to besaid.""There will be plenty without me, I am sure.""As regards numbers, I dare say there will; for we shall have prettynearly the whole of the two regiments;" and Marian as she alluded tothe officers spoke in a tone which might lead one to think that shewould much rather be without them; "but we counted on you as beingone of ourselves; and as you had been away so long, we thought--wethought--," and then she turned away her face, and did not finish herspeech. Before he could make up his mind as to his answer she hadrisen from her chair, and walked out of the room. Maurice almostthought that he saw a tear in her eye as she went.He did ride back to Spanish Town that afternoon, after an earlydinner; but before he went Marian spoke to him alone for one minute."I hope you are not offended with me," she said."Offended! oh no; how could I be offended with you?""Because you seem so stern. I am sure I would do anything I could tooblige you, if I knew how. It would be so shocking not to be goodfriends with a cousin like you.""But there are so many different sorts of friends," said Maurice."Of course there are. There are a great many friends that one doesnot care a bit for,--people that one meets at balls and places likethat--""And at picnics," said Maurice."'Well, some of them there too; but we are not like that; are we?"What could Maurice do but say, "no," and declare that theirfriendship was of a warmer description? And how could he resistpromising to go to the picnic, though as he made the promise he knewthat misery would be in store for him? He did promise, and then shegave him her hand and called him Maurice."Oh! I am so glad," she said. "It seemed so shocking that youshould refuse to join us. And mind and be early, Maurice; for Ishall want to explain it all. We are to meet, you know, at CliftonGate at one o'clock, but do you be a little before that, and we shallbe there."Maurice Cumming resolved within his own breast as he rode back toSpanish Town, that if Marian behaved to him all that day at thepicnic as she had done this day at Shandy Hall, he would ask her tobe his wife before he left her.And Miss Jack also was to be at the picnic."There is no need of going early," said she, when her nephew made afuss about the starting. "People are never very punctual at suchaffairs as that; and then they are always quite long enough." ButMaurice explained that he was anxious to be early, and on thisoccasion he carried his point.When they reached Clifton Gate the ladies were already there; not incarriages, as people go to picnics in other and tamer countries, buteach on her own horse or her own pony. But they were not alone.Beside Miss Leslie was a gentleman, whom Maurice knew as LieutenantGraham, of the flag-ship at Port Royal; and at a little distancewhich quite enabled him to join in the conversation was CaptainEwing, the lieutenant with the narrow waist of the previous year."We shall have a delightful day, Miss Leslie," said the lieutenant."Oh, charming, isn't it?" said Marian."But now to choose a place for dinner, Captain Ewing;--what do yousay?""Will you commission me to select? You know I'm very well up ingeometry, and all that?""But that won't teach you what sort of a place does for a picnicdinner;--will it, Mr. Cumming?" And then she shook hands withMaurice, but did not take any further special notice of him. "We'llall go together, if you please. The commission is too important tobe left to one." And then Marian rode off, and the lieutenant andthe captain rode with her.It was open for Maurice to join them if he chose, but he did notchoose. He had come there ever so much earlier than he need havedone, dragging his aunt with him, because Marian had told him thathis services would be specially required by her. And now as soon asshe saw him she went away with the two officers!--went away withoutvouchsafing him a word. He made up his mind, there on the spot, thathe would never think of her again--never speak to her otherwise thanhe might speak to the most indifferent of mortals.And yet he was a man that could struggle right manfully with theworld's troubles; one who had struggled with them from his boyhood,and had never been overcome. Now he was unable to conceal thebitterness of his wrath because a little girl had ridden off to lookfor a green spot for her tablecloth without asking his assistance!Picnics are, I think, in general, rather tedious for the elderlypeople who accompany them. When the joints become a little stiff,dinners are eaten most comfortably with the accompaniment of chairsand tables, and a roof overhead is an agrement de plus. But,nevertheless, picnics cannot exist without a certain allowance ofelderly people. The Miss Marians and Captains Ewing cannot go out todine on the grass without some one to look after them. So theelderly people go to picnics, in a dull tame way, doing their duty,and wishing the day over. Now on the morning in question, whenMarian rode off with Captain Ewing and lieutenant Graham, MauriceCumming remained among the elderly people.A certain Mr. Pomken, a great Jamaica agriculturist, one of theCouncil, a man who had known the good old times, got him by thebutton and held him fast, discoursing wisely of sugar and ruin, ofGadsden pans and recreant Negroes, on all of which subjects MauriceCumming was known to have an opinion of his own. But as Mr. Pomken'swords sounded into one ear, into the other fell notes, listened tofrom afar,--the shrill laughing voice of Marian Leslie as she gaveher happy order to her satellites around her, and ever and anon thebass haw-haw of Captain Ewing, who was made welcome as the chief ofher attendants. That evening in a whisper to a brother councillorMr. Pomken communicated his opinion that after all there was not somuch in that young Cumming as some people said. But Mr. Pomken hadno idea that that young Cumming was in love.And then the dinner came, spread over half an acre. Maurice wasamong the last who seated himself; and when he did so it was in anawkward comfortless corner, behind Mr. Pomken's back, and far awayfrom the laughter and mirth of the day. But yet from his comfortlesscorner he could see Marian as she sat in her pride of power, with herfriend Julia Davis near her, a flirt as bad as herself, and hersatellites around her, obedient to her nod, and happy in her smiles."Now I won't allow any more champagne," said Marian, "or who willthere be steady enough to help me over the rocks to the grotto?""Oh, you have promised me!" cried the captain."Indeed, I have not; have I, Julia?""Miss Davis has certainly promised me," said the lieutenant."I have made no promise, and don't think I shall go at all," saidJulia, who was sometimes inclined to imagine that Captain Ewingshould be her own property.All which and much more of the kind Maurice Cumming could not hear;but he could see--and imagine, which was worse. How innocent andinane are, after all, the flirtings of most young ladies, if alltheir words and doings in that line could be brought to paper! I donot know whether there be as a rule more vocal expression of thesentiment of love between a man and woman than there is between twothrushes! They whistle and call to each other, guided by instinctrather than by reason."You are going home with the ladies to-night, I believe," saidMaurice to Miss Jack, immediately after dinner. Miss Jackacknowledged that such was her destination for the night."Then my going back to Spanish Town at once won't hurt any one--for,to tell the truth, I have had enough of this work.""Why, Maurice, you were in such a hurry to come.""The more fool I; and so now I am in a hurry to go away. Don'tnotice it to anybody."Miss Jack looked in his face and saw that he was really wretched; andshe knew the cause of his wretchedness."Don't go yet, Maurice," she said; and then added with a tendernessthat was quite uncommon with her, "Go to her, Maurice, and speak toher openly and freely, once for all; you will find that she willlisten then. Dear Maurice, do, for my sake."He made no answer, but walked away, roaming sadly by himself amongthe trees. "Listen!" he exclaimed to himself. "Yes, she will altera dozen times in as many hours. Who can care for a creature that canchange as she changes?" And yet he could not help caring for her.As he went on, climbing among rocks, he again came upon the sound ofvoices, and heard especially that of Captain Ewing. "Now, MissLeslie, if you will take my hand you will soon be over all thedifficulty." And then a party of seven or eight, scrambling oversome stones, came nearly on the level on which he stood, in full viewof him; and leading the others were Captain Ewing and Miss Leslie.He turned on his heel to go away, when he caught the sound of a stepfollowing him, and a voice saying, "Oh, there is Mr. Cumming, and Iwant to speak to him;" and in a minute a light hand was on his arm."Why are you running away from us?" said Marian."Because--oh, I don't know. I am not running away. You have yourparty made up, and I am not going to intrude on it.""What nonsense! Do come now; we are going to this wonderful grotto.I thought it so ill-natured of you, not joining us at dinner. Indeedyou know you had promised."He did not answer her, but he looked at her--full in the face, withhis sad eyes laden with love. She half understood his countenance,but only half understood it."What is the matter, Maurice?" she said. "Are you angry with me?Will you come and join us?""No, Marian, I cannot do that. But if you can leave them and comewith me for half an hour, I will not keep you longer."She stood hesitating a moment, while her companion remained on thespot where she had left him. "Come, Miss Leslie," called CaptainEwing. "You will have it dark before we can get down.""I will come with you," whispered she to Maurice, "but wait amoment." And she tripped back, and in some five minutes returnedafter an eager argument with her friends. "There," she said, "Idon't care about the grotto, one bit, and I will walk with you now;--only they will think it so odd." And so they started off together.Before the tropical darkness had fallen upon them Maurice had toldthe tale of his love,--and had told it in a manner differing muchfrom that of Marian's usual admirers, he spoke with passion andalmost with violence; he declared that his heart was so full of herimage that he could not rid himself of it for one minute; "nor wouldhe wish to do so," he said, "if she would be his Marian, his ownMarian, his very own. But if not--" and then he explained to her,with all a lover's warmth, and with almost more than a lover'sliberty, what was his idea of her being "his own, his very own," andin doing so inveighed against her usual light-heartedness in termswhich at any rate were strong enough.But Marian here it all well. Perhaps she knew that the lesson wassomewhat deserved; and perhaps she appreciated at its value the loveof such a man as Maurice Cumming, weighing in her judgment thedifference between him and the Ewings and the Grahams.And then she answered him well and prudently, with words whichstartled him by their prudent seriousness as coming from her. Shebegged his pardon heartily, she said, for any grief which she hadcaused him; but yet how was she to he blamed, seeing that she hadknown nothing of his feelings? Her father and mother had saidsomething to her of this proposed marriage; something, but verylittle; and she had answered by saying that she did not think Mauricehad any warmer regard for her than of a cousin. After this answerneither father nor mother had pressed the matter further. As to herown feelings she could then say nothing, for she then knew nothing;--nothing but this, that she loved no one better than him, or ratherthat she loved no one else. She would ask herself if she could lovehim; but he must give her some little time for that. In themeantime--and she smiled sweetly at him as she made the promise--shewould endeavour to do nothing that would offend him; and then sheadded that on that evening she would dance with him any dances thathe liked. Maurice, with a self-denial that was not very wise,contented himself with engaging her for the first quadrille.They were to dance that night in the mess-room of the officers atNewcastle. This scheme had been added on as an adjunct to thepicnic, and it therefore became necessary that the ladies shouldretire to their own or their friends' houses at Newcastle to adjusttheir dresses. Marian Leslie and Julia Davis were there accommodatedwith the loan of a small room by the major's wife, and as they werebrushing their hair, and putting on their dancing-shoes, somethingwas said between them about Maurice Cumming."And so you are to be Mrs. C. of Mount Pleasant," said Julia. "Well;I didn't think it would come to that at last.""But it has not come to that, and if it did why should I not be Mrs.C., as you call it?""The knight of the rueful countenance, I call him.""I tell you what then, he is an excellent young man, and the fact isyou don't know him.""I don't like excellent young men with long faces. I suppose youwon't be let to dance quick dances at all now.""I shall dance whatever dances I like, as I have always done," saidMarian, with some little asperity in her tone."Not you; or if you do, you'll lose your promotion. You'll neverlive to be my Lady Rue. And what will Graham say? You know you'vegiven him half a promise.""That's not true, Julia;--I never gave him the tenth part of apromise.""Well, he says so;" and then the words between the young ladiesbecame a little more angry. But, nevertheless, in due time they cameforth with faces smiling as usual, with their hair brushed, andwithout any signs of warfare.But Marian had to stand another attack before the business of theevening commenced, and this was from no less doughty an antagonistthan her aunt, Miss Jack. Miss Jack soon found that Maurice had notkept his threat of going home; and though she did not absolutelylearn from him that he had gone so far towards perfecting her dearesthopes as to make a formal offer to Marion, nevertheless she didgather that things were fast that way tending. If only this dancingwere over! she said to herself, dreading the unnumbered waltzes withEwing, and the violent polkas with Graham. So Miss Jack resolved tosay one word to Marian--"A wise word in good season," said Miss Jackto herself, "how sweet a thing it is.""Marian," said she. "Step here a moment, I want to say a word toyou.""Yes, aunt Sarah," said Marian, following her aunt into a corner, notquite in the best humour in the world; for she had a dread of somefurther interference."Are you going to dance with Maurice to-night?""Yes, I believe so,--the first quadrille.""Well, what I was going to say is this. I don't want you to dancemany quick dances to-night, for a reason I have;--that is, not agreat many.""Why, aunt, what nonsense!""Now my dearest, dearest girl, it is all for your own sake. Well,then, it must out. He does not like it, you know.""What he?""Maurice.""Well, aunt, I don't know that I'm bound to dance or not to dancejust as Mr. Cumming may like. Papa does not mind my dancing. Thepeople have come here to dance and you can hardly want to make meridiculous by sitting still." And so that wise word did not appearto be very sweet.And then the amusement of the evening commenced, and Marian stood upfor a quadrille with her lover. She however was not in the very besthumour. She had, as she thought, said and done enough for one day inMaurice's favour. And she had no idea, as she declared to herself,of being lectured by aunt Sarah."Dearest Marion," he said to her, as the quadrille came to a close,"it is an your power to make me so happy,--so perfectly happy.""But then people have such different ideas of happiness," shereplied. "They can't all see with the same eyes, you know." And sothey parted.But during the early part of the evening she was sufficientlydiscreet; she did waltz with Lieutenant Graham, and polk with CaptainEwing, but she did so in a tamer manner than was usual with her, andshe made no emulous attempts to dance down other couples. When shehad done she would sit down, and then she consented to stand up fortwo quadrilles with two very tame gentlemen, to whom no lover couldobject."And so, Marian, your wings are regularly clipped at last," saidJulia Davis coming up to her."No more clipped than your own," said Marian."If Sir Rue won't let you waltz now, what will he require of you whenyou're married to him?""I am just as well able to waltz with whom I like as you are, Julia;and if you say so in that way, I shall think it's envy.""Ha--ha--ha; I may have envied you some of your beaux before now; Idare say I have. But I certainly do not envy you Sir Rue." And thenshe went off to her partner.All this was too much for Marian's weak strength, and before long shewas again whirling round with Captain Ewing. "Come, Miss Leslie,"said he, "let us see what we can do. Graham and Julia Davis havebeen saying that your waltzing days are over, but I think we can putthem down."Marian as she got up, and raised her arm in order that Ewing mightput his round her waist, caught Maurice's eye as he leaned against awall, and read in it a stern rebuke. "This is too bad," she said toherself. "He shall not make a slave of me, at any rate as yet." Andaway she went as madly, more madly than ever, and for the rest of theevening she danced with Captain Ewing and with him alone.There is an intoxication quite distinct from that which comes fromstrong drink. When the judgment is altogether overcome by thespirits this species of drunkenness comes on, and in this way MarianLeslie was drunk that night. For two hours she danced with CaptainEwing, and ever and anon she kept saying to herself that she wouldteach the world to know--and of all the world Mr. Cumming especially--that she might be lead, but not driven.Then about four o'clock she went home, and as she attempted toundress herself in her own room she burst into violent tears andopened her heart to her sister-- "Oh, Fanny, I do love him, I do lovehim so dearly! and now he will never come to me again!"Maurice stood still with his back against the wall, for the full twohours of Marian's exhibition, and then he said to his aunt before heleft--"I hope you have now seen enough; you will hardly mention hername to me again." Miss Jack groaned from the bottom of her heartbut she said nothing. She said nothing that night to any one; butshe lay awake in her bed, thinking, till it was time to rise anddress herself. "Ask Miss Marian to come to me," she said to theblack girl who came to assist her. But it was not till she had sentthree times, that Miss Marian obeyed the summons.At three o'clock on the following day Miss Jack arrived at her ownhall door in Spanish Town. Long as the distance was she ordinarilyrode it all, but on this occasion she had provided a carriage tobring her over as much of the journey as it was practicable for herto perform on wheels. As soon as she reached her own hall door sheasked if Mr. Cumming was at home. "Yes," the servant said. "He wasin the small book-room, at the back of the house, up stairs."Silently, as if afraid of being heard, she stepped up her own stairsinto her own drawing-room; and very silently she was followed by apair of feet lighter and smaller than her own.Miss Jack was usually somewhat of a despot in her own house, butthere was nothing despotic about her now as she peered into the book-room. This she did with her bonnet still on, looking round the half-opened door as though she were afraid to disturb her nephew, he satat the window looking out into the verandah which ran behind thehouse, so intent on his thoughts that he did not hear her."Maurice," she said, "can I come in?""Come in? oh yes, of course;" and he turned round sharply at her. "Itell you what, aunt; I am not well here and I cannot stay out thesession. I shall go back to Mount Pleasant.""Maurice," and she walked close up to him as she spoke, "Maurice, Ihave brought some one with me to ask your pardon."His face became red up to the roots of his hair as he stood lookingat her without answering. "You would grant it certainly," shecontinued, "if you knew how much it would be valued.""Whom do you mean? who is it?" he asked at last."One who loves you as well as you love her--and she cannot love youbetter. Come in, Marian." The poor girl crept in at the door,ashamed of what she was induced to do, but yet looking anxiously intoher lover's face. "You asked her yesterday to be your wife," saidMiss Jack, "and she did not then know her own mind. Now she has hada lesson. You will ask her once again; will you not, Maurice?"What was he to say? how was he to refuse, when that soft little handwas held out to him; when those eyes laden with tears just venturedto look into his face?"I beg your pardon if I angered you last night," she said.In half a minute Miss Jack had left the room, and in the space ofanother thirty seconds Maurice had forgiven her. "I am your own now,you know," she whispered to him in the course of that long evening."Yesterday, you know--," but the sentence was never finished.It was in vain that Julia Davis was ill-natured and sarcastic, invain that Ewing and Graham made joint attempt upon her constancy.From that night to the morning of her marriage--and the interval wasonly three months--Marian Leslie was never known to flirt.

　　THE END.* * * * * * * * * * * *

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