Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles

by Mrs. Henry Wood

Pomeranian Knoll was desolate: with a desolation it had never expected to fall upon it. A shattering blow had been struck to Mr. and Mrs. Dare. To lose their eldest son in so terrible a manner, seemed, of itself, sufficient agony for a whole lifetime. Whatever may have been his faults—and Helstonleigh knew that he was somewhat rich in faults—he was dear to them; dearer than her other children to Mrs. Dare. Herbert had remarked, in conversing with Anna Lynn, that Anthony was his mother's favourite. It was so. She had loved him deeply, had been blind to his failings. Neither Mr. Dare nor his wife was amongst the religious of the world. Religious thoughts and reflections, they, in common with many others in Helstonleigh, were content to leave to a remote death-bed. But they had been less than human, worse than heathen, could they be insensible to the fate of Anthony—hurled away with his sins upon his head. He was cut off suddenly from this world, and—what of the next? It was a question, an uncertainty, that they dared not follow; and they sat, one on each side their desolate hearth, and wailed forth their vain anguish.

This would, in truth, have been tribulation enough to have overshadowed a life; but there was more beyond it. Hemmed in by pride, as the Dares had been, playing at being great and grand in Helstonleigh, the situation of Herbert, setting aside their fears or their sympathy for himself, was about the most complete checkmate that could have fallen upon them. It was the cup of humiliation drained to its dregs. Whether he should be proved guilty or not, he was thrown into prison as a common felon, awaiting his trial for murder; and that disgrace could not be wiped out. Did they believe him guilty? They did not know themselves. To suspect him of such a crime was painful in the last degree to their feelings; but why did he persist in refusing to state where he was on the eventful night? There was the point that staggered them.

A deep gloom overhung the house, extending to all its inmates. Even the servants went about with sad faces and quiet steps. The young ladies knew that a calamity had been dealt to them from which they should never wholly recover. Their star of brilliancy, in its little sphere of light at Helstonleigh, had faded into dimness, if not wholly gone down below the horizon. Should Herbert be found guilty, it could never rise again. Adelaide rarely spoke; she appeared to possess some inward source of vexation or grief, apart from the general tribulation. At least, so judged Signora Varsini; and she was a shrewd observer. She, Miss Dare, spent most of her time shut up in her own room. Rosa and Minny were chiefly with their governess. They were getting of an age to feel it in an equal degree with the rest. Rosa was eighteen, and had begun to go out with Mrs. Dare and Adelaide: Minny was anticipating the same privilege. It was all stopped now—visiting, gaiety, pleasure; and it was felt as a part of the misfortune.

The first shock of the occurrence subsided, the funeral over, and the family settled down in its mourning, the governess exacted their studies from her two pupils as before. They were loth to recommence them, and appealed to their mother. "It was cruel of mademoiselle to wish it of them," they said. Mademoiselle rejoined that her motive was anything but cruel: she felt sure that occupation for the mind was the best counteraction to grief. If they would not study, where was the use of her remaining, she demanded. Madame Dare had better allow her to leave. She would go without notice, if madame pleased. She should be glad to get back to the Continent. They did not have murders there in society; at least, she, mademoiselle, had never encountered personal experience of it.

Mrs. Dare did not appear willing to accede to the proposition. The governess was a most efficient instructress; and six or twelve months more of her services would be essential to her pupils, if they were to be turned out as pupils ought to be. Besides, Sergeant Delves had intimated that the signora's testimony would be necessary at the trial, and therefore she could not be allowed to depart. Mr. Dare thought if they did allow her to depart, they might be accused of wishing to suppress evidence, and it might tell against Herbert. So mademoiselle had to resign herself to remaining. "Très bien," she equably said; "she was willing; only the young ladies must resume their lessons." A mandate in which Mrs. Dare acquiesced.

Sometimes Minny, who was given to be incorrigibly idle, would burst into tears over the trouble of her work, and then lay it upon her distress touching the uncertain fate of Herbert. One day, upon doing this, the governess broke out sharply.

"He deserves to lie in prison, does Monsieur Herbert!"

"Why do you say that, mademoiselle?" asked Minny resentfully.

"Because he is a fool," politely returned mademoiselle. "He say, does he not, that he was not home at the time. It is well; but why does he not say where he was? I think he is a fool, me."

"You may as well say outright, mademoiselle, that you think him guilty!" retorted Minny.