WHAT SHE COULD.
[CHAPTER I.]
SIR AYMER EGERTON.
THE stately homes of England! Well may the poet exclaim; and among these stately homes it would be hard to find one statelier than Egerton Highfield. Its grey old walls, close covered by a mantle of ivy, which clings even round the immense chimneys; its fine terrace, with broad steps leading down into a quaint old flower garden, with a huge fountain in the centre, and only separated by a wire fence and a wide ha-ha from an extensive deer park, through which winds one of the approaches to the house; the age and grandeur of the trees, and the extent of the massive buildings, all combine to make this a truly "stately home."
But perhaps the grandest-looking thing about it was its master, who, on the day on which I mean to introduce him to you, was walking up and down the terrace of which I have spoken. This terrace ran along the west side of the house, and was therefore a sheltered place even in March—though March, in Yorkshire, is not exactly a balmy month. Perhaps it was for this reason that Sir Aymer had gone to walk there, when he became too restless to remain indoors, and there he might be seen walking up and down, up and down with slow and measured tread, always turning at the same spot, always going at the same pace; always carrying his handsome old head well up, and keeping his arms folded across his broad chest.
He was a perfect picture to look at; for though his hair was turning grey, it was still thick and curly, and in his dark blue eyes age had not tamed the fire of youth, while his finely cut, haughty features, and pale, clear complexion were scarcely changed by the touch of time. Yes, he was very pleasant to look at; but, alas, that was all! For he was by no means pleasant to live with. An only child, he had become Sir Aymer Egerton while yet in his cradle; a weak, doting mother spoiled him utterly, and as she educated him at home, there was no school influence to undo the mischief. She died while he was still young, and he married soon afterwards.
He had two sons and one daughter, and soon after the birth of the latter, Lady Egerton died, literally worn out, poor lady, by his imperious temper. The elder boy, Aymer, was a fine, open-hearted creature, full of life and joy. He was sent to school early, which was lucky for him. The other son, Guy, was his father's special pride and darling. He was exceedingly like him in appearance, and, unfortunately, so far like him in disposition, that he had a most difficult temper, though not a passionate one. He was wonderfully clever, particularly as a linguist; and as his sister Clarice shared his tastes, he was well content to remain at home.
But Clarice did not live long to brighten his life, and her death was the more sad because it was the result of accident. She was riding with Guy and her father, when the horse took fright at the fall of a tree which some labourers were felling in the hedge at the roadside. Sir Aymer stopped to swear at the careless woodmen, and to dismiss them from his service on the spot; Guy rode after his sister. Her horse kept to the road.