CHAPTER VII.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 11635, 16 March 1901, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER VII.

LADY VIOLA CARBW. . "Fair enough, bat proud As Jano in her highest state." The summer sun that shone on the trees and flowers of ' Elmslie, that glistened on the walls of Croome, and seemed to smile like a blessing on the love of Sir Guy Wyverne and Magdalene Charlton, bathed in the fall glow of its beams the grand old mansion of Hanton, the residence of the Earl and i Countess of Hanton. j Hanton Court was the neighbouring estate to Haddon Hall. The woods miit, the broad, fertile aores raa for many miles side by side. From the

coppice al the end of Haddon Woods a small iron gate l«»d into the park of Hanton. It was called 'park' by conrt?sv — the reality being that the gronnl called Hanton Part; was part of a dense old forest, that Ion? years ngo had been known as Eim Wood. It was full of tall trees, with deep, spreading shade, of rank weeds and wild flowers, in which the trunks of trees seemed to be baried. A broad stream, too broad and deep to be called a brook, r»» through the midst of the woods — a dark, swift silent stream, bordered by tall rashes, and overhung by weeping willows and bending larch. It was not a cheerfal place. The sunlight seeaiod never to reach ther*, nor could the brightest rays give warmth underneath ; the thick foliage. A kind of solemn green twilight alweya reigned there. There were but few birds. , They liked tho sunny woods of HaxHon best. A profound silence seemed to brood among tho trees, which was broken only by the swift rash of the stream, and the ripple of the leaves as the wind surged throngb them. [ It wae the very place for melancholy dreams. ; Thoughts came to one ! there that would neter have 'been conceived in any other place ; melancholy drvams, sad forebodings. People always said the wind among the trees ia Ehii Wood was like a long-drawn. bitter sigh. There was do superstition: that' it was haunted, no old-fashioned legend was told of white, wailing women seen among the trees. Yet it was a spot shunned after night by alt. 2fo one ever willingly passed by, and those who were obliged to do so would fctand "horror- stricken at the weird, unearthly sound of the wailing wind, ever cry mg oat like a lost soul in dire pain. Haaton Court was some distance' from the Eim Woods. The grounds surronndiag it* were more cheerful, and laid out with great taste and skilL There was an Italian garden that sloped down u> the lake, ani a long range of conservatories, from which people said the noble Earl of Hanton was not ashamed to derive a part of his in> o>me. The Hantons, whose name is familiar to all students of history, were, on* of the oldest and proudest families » England. TUey came over originally with the Conqueror. Jean de Hanton had been one of the most favoured knights. As the years rolled on the family grew in importance. They became owners of the large and rich ! estate called Hanton Court. They made their name famous in the Senate and on the battlefield. Grand families, like grand nations, have their" rise and fait. For some ; time the Hantons preserved their place lat the right hand of the* reigning i sovereign, incurring the jealous envy of the other peers, involving themselves in all kinds of State intrigues and plots* They iutermarrieJ wittt some of 'the noblest families in England, and held themselves second to none. After a time came the fall, which was slow and gradual as the rise, until the day came when they were known no longer in the court or con noil chamber — when the younger branches seemed to dwindle and die away; when the name lost something of its influence, though its prestige still remained* The annals of history show its decline. "When George the Fourth was King" there remained of the once opulent and influential race only Stephen, Earl of Hanton, and bis sons. They succeeded him, 'one after the other. The present earl was grandson ' of , Stephen, and the family misfortunes Beeuied to have^Teachcd a climax during his reign. Bertrand,* the Earl of Hantftn, at thetime our story opens, was a peevtb, discontented, most miserable man. One idea had possessed him from his yotttk upward, and that was the desire to make money — to retrieve the lost fortune of his youth. In order to do this he would not sully hia delicate, aristocratic hands with trade. He abhorred it. The blood of all the Han|oos forbade such desecration. Speculation wa» quite another thing. He planged wildly into it. There was no company in which he did not purchase shares, no enterprise in which he did not take his part. At first he met with something like success. He made and lose thousand*.

{Sanguine, lull ut iuKf. ami tuorooghly reckless, he plivsred yet deeper into the vortex. At li>« nye of twenty-three be married the Lady Juliet Vavasour, then considered one of the proudest and dv st itn| erious piils in EogUnd. Tliey J-nd bu f , one child— the Lady Viola Carew. No ton \*as pver born to them ; and, a* both the estate end titles were entailed, they bad found the diHsppoiittrmnt bard to b ar. The hair- presumptive of the Earl of Hanton was Clarence Art:o»t, an elderly man, celebrated o:)'y for his miserly tendencies. While Lady Vio'a was still a child, total ruiu idl upon Hanton. The earl had speculated largely in some Spanish mines — an iaveatment w iich he foudly hoped wou'd end in waking him a millionaire. >'ot only w«8 hie hopo utteily destroyed, but he fmnd himself, the chief shareholder,! liable for the delta of the company, j amounting to rxany hundred thousand pounds. It was total rain, without either hope or chance of retrieving \\w misfortune. Tben Bertram!, Eail of Hanton, found himself in difficulties that vmuli have bewildered a stronger brain than his. He was powerless to help himself. He could not tonch one leaf of a tree growing in the wood 9 ; he could not sell one branch from tbe sturdiest trunk, so strict was the entail. He could part with nothing unless ho gained the conBent of tbe heir-at-law ; and this consent Clarence Arnott refused to gke. The only resoutce open to him was to mortgage his income, to make over his rent roll and ploc« it in the hands of his creditors. He did so. The closest calculation proved that, should he survive thirty-three years, he would then be free from debt, and bis income become his own again. Only twenty of tbe thirty-three had elapsed when he became a peevish, restless invalid, completely soured in - deposition, morose and sullen in temper, the wreck of the hopeful, saognine man who had once believed the world lay at his feet. He preferred to temain at Hanton. There be wa* still lord of tbe soil ; there the ancient glory lingered round Bis netoe. At the court he would have bien a cipher ; at ilanton be was sovereign master. Bf dint of the greatest economy he ■was able to live there. Lady Juliet had brought him some fortune, which was settled uj.on herself, and )ielded an income of a thousand a year ; and on this they continued to keep up Hanton Court. It wa9 bard work. The carriages and horses were all sold, most of the old servants dismissed, the state-rcoms ail closed, visitors given up, shooting and fishing thought of no more. The hospitalities for which tbe Court, had once been famous came to a close. In the western wing, attendee! by a few servants, deprived of all luxuries, unable at times even to procure what they considered indispensable comforts, the Earl and Countess of Ilanton lived a dreary, monotonous life fur many long yeais. borne people might have been happy in that grand old mansion, sui rounded by everything beautiful both in art and nature. They were not. They were proud, ambition?, worldly people, fond of gayety and pleasure, fond of fetes, and balls, and society. To them life at Hanton was simply a living death. Lady Hanton grew proud- r and more imperious. What there had been innate in ber of good and generosity died away. Tbe only real good B^eaocd to her now that which ebe had lost— money and position. Sbe degenerated into a scheming, intrguing woman, who worshipped money as the souice of all good. Her husband became a peevish, irritable invalid, with whom to live day after day was pen a new for any number of sins. §nch was the home in which tbe Lady Viola Carew vas brought np. There was not one single good ins fluence brought to bear upon her. Neither as baby, child, girl, nor woman -wa* her^-sense of right appealed to. Sbe was never taught to love right for right's sake ; she was never taught to shun wronc for wrong'H sake. Her borne was utterly unendurable, utterly unlovable. While she was a child, she was kept out of sight. Lady Juliet did not like children ; the earl did oot like noise. 'If they were to be teased with children, why on earth* could they not bavo a son Vhe said, continually. 'A son wi/jid have been of some use to them — a daz£h*er was always more or less a mistake/ When Viola grow older, there waa a great discussion about her education. The earl eaid : "It was all nonsense— women did not require education ; it did them more harm than good. Let

her be taoght to read and write — she would want no more. , Lady Juliet, however, had her own way. In the face of her only daughter she read promise of great beauly. If 6he could only add accomplishments to ! beauty, Viola might marry well, and so retrieve tbeir fallen fortunes. Sbe said something of this kind to her hnsband, and won from him a reluctant consent to haviDg a governess in the house. They fouod odc — a Frenchwoman of j brilliant acquirements, an accomplished ; musician, a good linguist, a skillful artist ; but as utterly destitute of t»ll principle as a woman with an immortal soul could be. Sbe had no distinct idea of right and wrong. Her only criterion was whether a sin was found out or not. Of honor, trntli. loyalty and integrity sbe was quite innocent. Her salary, thanks to Lady Honton, was a good one ; and in return tor it. she imparted her accomplishments to J Lady Viola. So flattered and toadied the countess, She pleased the earl by the great deference she showed to his opinians. Sbe carefully eradicated all the few ideas of truth and honor her pupil possessed. What cocld be hoped for ? If one sows tares, can wheat grow? Do grasses come from thistles, or peaches from briars? Place a girl, young, prouoV impressionable as Lady Viola, in a desolate, dreary home, without love, care or training, exposed to the corrnpt teachings of a Madame St. Ange, to the world'y. ambitious teaching of a manoeuvring woman like Lady { Hanton, to the cynical sneer* of an unbeliever like the earl, and the result in almost every case would be the same. Lady Viola grew up beautiful as a hoari, stately and proud as an empress, accomplished as ber governess, and with as few ideas of right and wrong as it was possible for a human being to have.