Trevlyn Hold: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

There were other changes also in Mr. Chattaway's family. Maude's tuition, that Octave had been ever ready to find fault with, was over for ever, and Octave had taken her place. Amelia was at home, for expenses had to be curtailed. An outlay quite suitable for the master of Trevlyn Hold would be imprudent in the tenant of the Upland Farm. They found Maude's worth now that they had lost her; could appreciate the sweetness of her temper, her gentle patience. Octave, who also liked an idle life, had undertaken the tuition of her sisters with a very bad grace: hating the trouble and labour. She might have refused but for Miss Diana Trevlyn. Miss Diana had not lost her good sense or love of ruling on leaving Trevlyn Hold, and openly told Octave that she must bend to circumstances as well as her parents, and that if she would not teach her sisters, she had better go out as governess and earn her living. Octave could have annihilated Miss Diana for the unwelcome suggestion—but she offered no further opposition to the arrangement.

Life was very hard just then for Octave Chattaway. She had inherited the envious, selfish disposition of her father, and the very fact that Maude and herself had changed positions was sufficient to vex her almost beyond endurance. She had become the drudge whose days must be passed beating grammar into the obtuse minds of her rebellious sisters; Maude, the mistress of Trevlyn Hold. How things would go on it was difficult to say; for the scenes that frequently took place between Octave and her pupils disturbed to a grave degree the peace of the Upland Farm. Octave was impatient, fretful, and exacting; they were tantalising and disobedient. Quarrels were incessant; and now and then it came to blows. Octave's temper urged her to personal correction, and the girls retorted in kind.

It is in human nature to exaggerate, and Octave not only exaggerated her troubles but wilfully made the worst of them. Instead of patiently sitting down to her new duties, and striving to perform them so that in time they might become a pleasure, she steeled herself against them. A terrible jealousy of Maude had taken possession of her; jealousy in more senses than one. There was a gate in their grounds overlooking the highway to Trevlyn Hold, and it was Octave's delight to stand there and watch, at the hour when Maude might be expected to pass. Sometimes in the open carriage—sometimes she would drive in a closed one, but always accompanied by the symbols of wealth and position, fine horses, attendant servants—Miss Maude Trevlyn, of Trevlyn Hold. And Octave would watch stealthily until they were out of sight, and gather fresh food for her unhappy state of mind. It would seem strange she should thus torment herself, but that the human heart is full of such contradictions.

One day that she was standing there, Mrs. Ryle passed. And it may as well be remarked that, Mr. Chattaway excepted, Mrs. Ryle seemed most to resent the changes: not her brother's return, but some of its results. In the certainty of Rupert's not living to succeed—and it was a certainty now—Mrs. Ryle had again cherished hopes for her son Trevlyn. She had been exceedingly vexed when she heard the Upland Farm was leased to Mr. Chattaway, and thought George must have played his cards badly. She allowed her resentment to smoulder for a time, but one day so far forgot herself as to demand of George whether he thought two masters would answer upon the Farm; and hinted that it was time he left, and made room for Treve.

George, though his cheek burnt—for her, not for himself—calmly answered, that he expected shortly to leave it: relieving her of his presence, Treve of his personal advice and help.

"But you did not get the Upland?" she reiterated. "And I have been told this morning that the other farm you thought of is let over your head."

"Stay, mother," was George's answer. "You are ready to blame Squire Trevlyn for letting these farms, and not to me; but my views have altered. I do not now wish to lease the Upland, or any other farm. Squire Trevlyn has proposed something else to me—I am to manage his own land for him."

"Manage his land for him! Do you mean the land attached to Trevlyn?"

"Yes."

"And where shall you live?"