Fenton's Quest

e remoter corners of the old gothic church the shadows are beginning to gather, as the sermon draws near its close; but in the centre aisle and about the pulpit th

d earnest have been the words of the sermon, simple and earnest seem the countenances of the congregation, looking reverently upwards at the face of their pastor; and one might fancy, contemplating that grand old church, so much too spac

ndance at evening service. He had been thinking a good deal about this quiet country life during the service, wondering whether it was not

father had been called "the Squire." The lady sat opposite her brother in the wide old family pew to-night-a handsome-looking matron, with a little rosy-cheeked damsel sitti

is face towards the opposite line of pews, in one of which, very near him, there was a girl, at

transparent olive-tint that one seldom sees out of a Spanish picture; a sweet rosy mouth, and a piquant little nose of no particular order, made up the catalogue of this young lady's charms. But in a face worth looking at there is always a something that cannot be put into words; and the brightest and best attribut

n was over. Here they both lingered a moment to shake hands with Mrs. Lister, very much to Gilbert Fenton's satisfaction.

nton, Captain Sedg

, Mr. Fenton; delighted to know any one belonging to Mrs. Li

k. I am a business man, you see, and can't

ommercial pursuits," she said; "I think he believes ever

e happier in such a place as this, drifting away in a kind of dreamy idle

reamy idleness," answered his sister, "

It suits my little girl here very well, too," he added, with a fond glance at his companion; "she has her bird

her hand through his arm. And Gilbert Fenton

nd Captain Sedgewick and Miss Nowell wished Mrs. Lister and he

he is!" said Gilbert,

answered coldly; "she is certainly pretty, but I hope y

ut being in any danger of losing his heart. But why not in that

ither money or position and I think y

ustralian merchant can expect to secure a wife of very exalted p

e you didn't like, from mercenary considerations; bu

her I shall ever marry at all. I am just the

o, Gil

over my schoolboy love affairs, I have never seen the woman who could touch my heart. I have met plenty of pretty women, and plenty of brilliant women, of course, i

y sorry f

why,

than nobody. There is an unpleasa

, Captain Sedgewick, se

t he is not her uncle; he adopted h

ple, and how did she

ubject. When we first came to know them, he told us that Marian was

riend, I suppose. They seem ve

e of her. She is an amiable girl; I

hat, B

e you to fall in

ld like uncle Gil to love Marian just as I love her. She is the dearest girl in the world. When we had a juvenile party last win

talk nonsense; and you ought not to listen when

help hearin

ilt. Without, the gardens were a picture of neatness and order; within, everything was solid and comfortable: the furniture of a somewhat ponderous and exploded fashion, b

on very well together for a short time. Gilbert Fenton pretended to be profoundly interested in the thrilling question of drainage, deep or superficial, and seemed to enter unreservedly into every discussion of the latest invention or improvemen

g into a lazy reverie, each pondering upon his own affairs-Gilbert meditating transactions with foreign houses, risky bargains with traders of doubtful solvency, or ha

ished his customary round of inspection by this time, and was sitting by one of the open windows of the drawing-room, with his body in one luxurio

t's a vicarious kind of devotion that ought to be permitted occasionally to a hard-working fellow like me.-I'm glad you've come back to give us some

y," said Mrs. Lister, as she took h

an amiable knack of spoiling his children. There were only two-th

ouseholds upon a summer Sunday evening; a kind of palpable emptiness which sets a man speculating how many years he may have to live, and how many such Sundays he may have to spend.

faintly in the clear evening sky; and here and there a solitary star shone with a tremulous brightness. The shadows of the trees made spots of solemn darkness on

ng for the house," said Gilber

e been all round the farm, and I'm dead

. You look the picture of comfort in that easy-chai

, and brightened only by such selfish pleasures as constitute the recreations of a business man-an occasional dinner at Blackwall or Richmond, a week's shooting in the autumn, a little easy-going hunting in the winter, a hurried scamper over some of the beaten continental roads, or a fortnight at a German spa? These had been his pleasures hitherto, and he had found life pleasant

ctations had been disappointed by Mr. Fenton's sudden death at a period of great commercial disturbance. The business was found in a state of entanglement that was very near insolvency; and wise friends told Gilbert Fenton that the only hope of coming well out of these perplexities lay

d worked for the first three years of his business career as it is not given to many men to work in the course of their lives. By that time the ship had been steered clear of all rocks and quicksands

ad only himself to work for. At first he had worked for the sake of his dead father's honour and repute; later he fell into a groove, like other men, an

s youth was fast going-nay, had it not indeed gone from him for ever? had not youth left him all at once when he began his commercial career?-and the pleasures that had been fresh enough within the last few years were rapidly growing stale. He knew the German spas, the pine-groves where the band played, the gambling-saloons and their company, by heart, though he had never stayed more than a fortnight at any one of them. He had exha

he puffed slowly at his cigar; "but a commercial man has nothing to hope for in the way of fame-nothing to work for except m

e knew the fancy was a foolish one, and that

mself which these things could not fill. He walked along the road by which he and his sister had come back from church, and turned into the lane at the end of which Captain Sedgewick had bidden them good night. He

ed towards a river-a fair winding stream, which was one of the glories of Lidford. A little before one came to the river, the lane opene

the pretty lawns and flower-beds, with clusters of evergreens here and there, and a wealth of roses and seringa. One of them, the prettiest and most secluded, was also the smallest; a low white-walled cottage, with casement windows above, and ol

tting across the little lawn at one side of the cottage While he was wondering about the owner of this dress, the noisy dog came rush

tly, and this low white-walled cottage was really Captain Sedgewick's. I

rms. Gilbert drew back a little, and flung his cigar into the brook. She had not seen h

he rich dark-brown hair gathered in a great knot at the back of the graceful head; the perfect throat circled by a broad black ribbon, from

t might be to him to contemplate the lovely face; so he made a

nce more, Miss

ed by his sudden appearance,

I was looking for my uncle. He has gone out for a little stroll

kind of evening. I left the Listers yawning over their tea-cups, and came out for a ramble. The aspect of the lane at which we parted

have quite a tal

is a fitness in things. Yes, I fe

le George and I are very fond of it. But it must s

d hardly associate the faintest touch of romance with such a place. Bu

h whom he shook hands again very cordially, and who repeated his story a

ough it was only about a fourth of the size of that at Lidford House. It looked a very pretty room in the lamplight, with quaint old-fashio

onverse with. His health had failed him long ago, and he had turned his back upon the world of action

about in the service-none of them changes for the better, according to the Cap

at the Captain's for the last ten years. Marian Nowell sat on the other side of the room, with the lamplight shining on her dark-brown hair, and with that much-to-be-envied Skye terrier on her lap. Gilbert

new volume of poems, the picture of the year, and so on. There was nothing awkward or provincial in her manner; and if she did not say any

ge of Lidford, and had contrived to find perfect happiness in that simple

but I do not know that she is any the worse for her ignorance of the great world. The gr

f I were not, uncle George," t

n again until the clock upon the chimney-piece struck the half-hour after ten, and Gilbert Fenton rose to say go

You ought to help me to finish that bottle. Mari

is prolonged absence must have already caused some amount of wonder at Lidford House; so he held firmly to his good-night, shook hands with his new friends, holding Marian Nowell'

fe. Why is it? Because she is lovely? Surely not. Surely I am not so weak a fool as to be caught by a beautiful face! And yet what else do I know of her? Absolutely nothing. She may be the shallowest of living creatures-the most selfish, the falsest, the basest. No; I do not believe she could ever be false or unworthy. There is something noble in her face-something more than me

eeper feeling than would have seemed natural to a passing fancy.

s drawing-room, where Martin Lister was enjoying a comfortable nap,

s absence, and was fain to confess to an accidental encounter with C

have taken you th

ose, my dear. It is as

ols you men are," she said, "about a pretty face!" "Includi

tenance in church, sir. But you have

evening orisons. But his thoughts were not easily to be fixed that night. They wandered very wide of that simple family prayer, and m