More than thirty-five years before the period of which we write, James Halford, who had been travelling tutor to the son of a nobleman, commenced a school at Bayswater, then a pretty rural village. His father, a country surgeon in good practice, had given his only son a superior education, but the young man had no liking for his father's profession. To send James to the university Mr. Halford felt would be beyond his means, and the young man's wish to enter the Church was therefore set aside, causing him great disappointment. Ultimately he was engaged as tutor to the youth already spoken of, and while with him in that capacity became acquainted with the governess of his sisters, Clara Marston, whom he afterwards married. At the death of his father a small but unexpected amount of money fell into his hands. He almost immediately relinquished his engagement with the son of Lord Rivers, and took a house at Bayswater. Trifling as the sum was, it still formed a sufficient capital upon which to commence a school, and so well had he performed his duty with his pupil that the high recommendation of the young man's relatives soon gained him several pupils. Six months after his father's death Clara Marston became his wife. For ten years they continued to carry on their school most successfully, till bricks and mortar had completely destroyed the countrified character of the place, and obliged them at last to seek a home elsewhere.
Armies of builders were already invading the beautiful fields and meadows in the neighbourhood; long rows of small semi-detached cottages, at rentals varying from 20l. to 50l. a year, sprung up as if by magic. Worse still, when the long leases of many old red brick mansions expired they were quickly demolished, and not only on their sites, but in the midst of the beautiful gardens and pleasure-grounds belonging to them arose piles of inferior buildings, bringing to their owners a quick return for the capital expended. The same spoliation of Nature is still going on around us, and in these days of utilitarianism how can it be avoided?
The loveliest of Nature's landscapes—the bright flowers of a well-kept garden—the glorious old trees, from the tops of which is heard the musical cawing of rooks—the red brick mansion with its many windows glittering in the setting sun, and its colour contrasting picturesquely with the green foliage—the stream of limpid water with the graceful swans gliding on its shadowed surface,—all this is very lovely to see, and belongs to the beautiful, but "will it pay?" is the question asked now; and the practical man of business knows that money not "knowledge is power," in these days of mammon-worship. So the beautiful is sacrificed without regret if it can be replaced by something that "pays better."
This brick-building mania, however, hastened Mr. Halford's removal from a house already too small for his increased number of pupils and rising family. His gentle firmness with the former, and his wife's clever domestic management, had made them very successful, and when they removed to their present commodious residence all their pupils followed them, and others were quickly added to their number.
Many sorrows, however, had overtaken them during the twenty-five years at Englefield Grange. Of their seven children two only survived, the eldest and the youngest.
Fanny Halford at the age of twenty had married, and accompanied her husband to Melbourne about fourteen years before the time of which we write. The youngest, Henry, a studious reading boy, was therefore the only hope of his parents. Dr. Halford, remembering his own disappointment about entering the Church, watched his boy anxiously, and as he grew from childhood to youth discovered with satisfaction that his wish to become a clergyman was as strong as his own had been.
Indeed, the youth's tastes all tended to such a result. At eight years old he commenced Greek; Cæsar, Horace, and Virgil were the companions of his play-hours, history an amusement, and poetry a delight. When these talents developed themselves Mr. Halford could not control his regret at a lost opportunity. Henry had not reached his seventh year when a friend obtained for him a presentation to Christ's Hospital; but the mother, who had followed so many children to the grave, could not spare her youngest boy. Mr. Halford hesitated to press it, and so the opportunity was lost. Now, however, she was ready to make any possible sacrifice to help in carrying out his own and his father's wishes.
When Henry Halford reached the age of sixteen it became necessary to make some decision as to his future. He had his faults, as all young people have, and they had been to a certain extent fostered by the indulgence of his loving mother and sister. Fanny was twelve years older than her brother, and knowing how he hated the restrictions of order and neatness, she would, during his early boyhood, quietly set to rights untidy rooms, carefully replace scattered books, and forgive his seeming indifference to her kind attention. Even a certain irritation of temper was passed over by mother and sister, for if he was hasty, was he not quick to forgive? and who so penitent as Henry Halford after uttering an angry or unjust word? Besides, they reasoned, studious and imaginative people were often very irritable. After his sister's marriage, he had another to spoil him in her place, of whom we shall hear more by-and-by. And so the time passed on till his father felt it necessary to obtain for his son suitable preparation for the university.
One evening he broached the subject to his wife. "My dear," he said, "there is no one to whom I could send Henry with so much confidence as to Dr. Mason; he is a man of high standing, and his pupils scarcely ever fail in passing for the professions in which he prepares them. He took a first class at Oxford, and has had many years' experience."
"Are not his terms a hundred a year?" asked Mrs. Halford.