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Poor Lieutenant Of Dragoons,  In

Aspiring To The Hand Of The Beautiful Edith,  Heiress Of Vellenaux.

 

He Lost No Time In Procuring The Required Furlough,  And At Their First

Meeting,  The Four Missing Letters Were Commented Upon,  And Their

Non-Delivery Ascribed To The Right Party,  Namely,  Mrs. Fraudhurst,  As

They Wandered Together Down The Pomegranate And Orange Groves In The

Cool Of The Evening,  Or Pacing The Broad,  Open Verandah Beneath The Star

Lit Sky.

 

"I Think,  Carlton,  You Must Be In High Feather With The Colonel,  Or Your

Lucky Star Is In The Ascendant," Said Captain Hastings To Our Young

Hero,  A Few Days After His Return From Calcutta,  As They Rode Home From

Stables Together.

 

"How So? What Is In The Mind Now?" Enquired Arthur,  As He Reined His

Horse Nearer To That Of His Companion.

 

"Why,  There Is Another Row Among Those Fellows In bundlecund,  And A

Squadron Of Our Regiment Has Been Ordered Out. My Troop And Yours Have

Been Selected For The Business,  And As Your Captain Is In europe And The

Other Two Troop Commanders Absent From Headquarters,  You Are To Have

Charge On,  This Occasion. I Command The Squadron,  So They May Look Out

For Hard Knocks If We Get A Chance At Them. I Will Teach The Blackguards

A Lesson They Will Not Forget For Some Time. They Will Find No

Philanthropy Or Mistaken Clemency About Me,  And To Tell You The Truth,  I

Would Rather Have You For My Second In command Than Either Dalzell Or

Harcly."

 

"Many Thanks For Your Good Opinion; And Depend Upon It I Shall Not Be

Backward In Proving Its Correctness,  Should An Opportunity Offer,"

Responded Arthur,  As They Entered The Mess Room.

 

The Affair In bundlecund Proved A More Obstinate Contest Than Had Been

At First Expected,  And Lasted For A Considerable Time. But The Coolness

And Determination Of The Light Dragoons Were Too Much For Them,

Consequently The Disturbance Was Quelled,  But Not Before A Large Number

Of The Rascals Had Been Made To Bite The Dust. Here,  As In

Chillianwalla,  Carlton'S Bravery And Skill,  As A Troop Leader,  Were

Conspicuous,  And He Well Merited The Encomiums That Were Poured Upon Him

By His Brother Officers On The Return Of The Squadron From The Disturbed

Districts,  Now In a Tranquil State.

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

 

Such Of Our Readers As May Have Been Acquainted With The West End Of

London Some Thirty-Five Years Since,  Must Recollect Old Cavendish

Square. Prior To That Date It Had Been Very Exclusive,  But On Belgravia

And Tybernia Springing Into Existence,  The Nobility And Aristocratic

Families Moved From There To The New Suburban Localities,  And Their Old

Quarters Were Occupied By Quite A Different Class,  Which Had Migrated

Principally From That Region East Of Temple Bar,  Such As Merchants,

Bankers,  Eminent Barristers,  And Physicians Of First Standing. One Of

The Main Avenues Leading From This Square Westward,  And Known As Harley

Street,  Was Inhabited By Another Set,  Usually Styled Very Respectable

People,  Chiefly Consisting Of Maiden Ladies Of Doubtful Ages,  Who Kept

Their Carriages And Lived In Good Style,  Whist Playing Dowagers,  Who

Kept Their Carriages But Hired Job Horses,  When It Was Necessary To

Visit Their Friends Whose Circumstances Were More Flourishing Than Their

Own,  And The Families Of Country Members Who Usually Remained In Town

Daring The Session Of Parliament,  And Often For A Much Longer Period. It

Was In This Street And In This Circle That The Cotterells Lived And

Moved. Mr. Cotterell,  The Father Of Kate--The Prettiest Kate In all That

Locality,  At Least,  So Tom Barton Said,  And He Ought To Know For He Had

Seen Her Often,  And Never Failed To Get His Face As Close To Hers As

Possible Whenever A Chance Presented Itself For His So Doing--Was A

Retired Stock Broker Who,  Having Made A Considerable Hit In a Great

Speculation By Which He Realized A Handsome Sum,  Prudently Took The

Advice Of His Spouse And Let Well Enough Alone,  Retired From Business,

Left Their Dusky Residence In The City,  And Moved To Their Present

Abode,  No. 54 Upper Harley Street. Mrs. Cotterell Was The Youngest

Sister Of Mrs. Barton Of The Willows,  In devonshire,  Hence The

Relationship Between Our Friend,  Tom Barton,  And Pretty Cousin Kate,  The

Charm Of Whose Gay And Lively Manners Had Made Quite An Impression On

The Susceptible Heart Of Cousin Tom,  Which Increased And Strengthened

During The Frequent Visits Of That Young Lady To Her Aunt'S In

Devonshire. Nor Was It A One Sided Affair,  For She Had Been Captivated

By The Handsome Person And Agreeable Address Of Her Cousin,  But Being

Petit In Stature,  She Was Like Most Little Beauties,  Very Arbitrary And

Capricious Towards Her Lover,  Yet,  With All This,  She Was A Girl Of

Good,  Sound Sense,  And Knowing That Her Portion On The Death Of Her

Parents Would Be But Small,  Would Not Consent To Entangle Herself In The

Meshes Of Matrimony Until Tom Had Established Himself In His Profession,

And There Was A Fair Prospect Of Their Succeeding In Life.

 

It Will Be Remembered That Tom Barton Left For London About The Same

Time That Arthur Carlton Started For India. He Had Been More Fortunate

Than Could Have Been Expected In The Profession He Had Chosen,  For He

Had Scarcely Been Three Years Turning Over Musty Deeds,  Copying Legal

Documents And Other Drudgeries Appertaining To A Lawyer'S Office,  When

His Employer Died,  Leaving Him The Business And Recommending Him To The

Notice Of His Clients Generally. Now,  Although Tom'S Chambers Were

Situated In Lincoln'S Inn Fields Which Everybody Knows (Who Knows

Anything Of London) Is A Large,  Airy Space,  Surrounded With Iron

Railings,  Wherein There Are Plenty Of Trees,  Flowers,  Grasses,  And

Gravel Walks To Stroll About In,  All Of Which Could Be Seen From His

Chamber Window. But This Was Not Sufficient For Him. He Wanted Something

More Suburban And Evidently Considered The Atmosphere North Of Oxford

Street More Conducive To His Health,  Or He Would Never Have Imposed Upon

Himself The Task Of Walking From Lincoln'S Inn So Far Westward Up Harley

Street. Yet,  Although The Air Must Have Been More Pure Some Half A Mile

Further On,  He Never By Any Chance,  Succeeded In Getting Beyond No. 54.

 

There Was Also Another Gentleman Who Found It Convenient And Agreeable

To Walk In The Same Direction And Stop At The Same House. This For Some

Time Perplexed Our Friend,  Tom,  And Gave Him Considerable Uneasiness In

The Region Of The Heart. His First Business Was To Discover Who He Was;

This Did Not Take Long To Accomplish,  But He Was More Puzzled Than Ever;

There Was No One Ill At No. 54,  And The Gentleman Turned Out To Be A

Physician Of Good Standing,  Residing In cavendish Square. He Dared Not

Speak To Kate On The Subject,  For Fear Of Committing Himself And

Becoming Exposed To That Little Lady'S Raillery,  For He Well Knew That

She Would Torment Him Unmercifully If He Betrayed The Least Sign Of

Jealousy. Wishing To Be Satisfied On A Point That So Troubled Him,  He

Determined To Sound His Aunt On The Matter. He Was A Great Favourite

With Her,  And She Was Not Likely To Betray Him To His Lady Love.

 

"Very Quiet,  Gentlemanly Sort Of Person,  Doctor Ashburnham; Don'T You

Think So," He Enquired Of His Aunt One Evening,  As They Were Seated

Alone In The Drawing Room On Harley Street?

 

"It Is Well That You Are That Way Of Thinking,  For He Has The Same

Opinion Of You," Remarked Mrs. Cotterell With A Quiet Smile. "Do You

Remember To Have Met Him Anywhere But In London?" She Asked,  After A Few

Moments' Pause.

 

Tom Shook His Head And Replied,  "I Think Not,  But Perhaps I May Have

Seen Him Somewhere. I Meet All Sorts Of People."

 

"Well,  Well,  Your Sister Julia Is Coming Up To Town Some Evening Next

Week,  And She Is Such A Clever Girl,  Perhaps She Can Enlighten You On

The Subject."

 

Tom Stared At His Aunt For A Moment,  Then The Mist Began To Clear Away.

It Now Struck Him That He Had Never Met The Doctor In Harley Street

Except During The Time That His Sister Was On A Visit There,  And It Also

Occurred To Him Now,  That On His Last Flying Visit To Devonshire He Had

Met A Gentleman Much Resembling Doctor Ashburnham,  Riding With Julia In

One Of The Green Lanes In Vellenaux. It Was All Dear Enough Now,  It Was

Julia'S Lover Who Had Given Him So Much Concern Of Late,  And This Fact

Removed A Great Load From Tom'S Heart. On This Discovery His Face

Brightened Up. "But,  My Dear Aunt,  Is There Really Anything In It."

 

"Anything In What?" Enquired The Good Lady,  Looking Up From Her

Knitting,  Somewhat Amused At The Manner In Which Her Nephew Had Put The

Question.

 

"Why,  I Mean,  Is There Any Love Affair,  Engagement Or That Sort Of Thing

Between Julia And The Doctor?"

 

"Well,  Tom,  All I Can Say Is,  That Doctor Ashburnham Seldom Calls Here

Except During The Time Your Sister Is In London,  Or Occasionally Pays

Us A Visit To Enquire When She Is Likely To Be In Town Again. They Have

Met,  I Believe,  In devonshire,  And He Has Visited Her At The Willows. He

Is Certainly Very Attentive To Her When She Is With Us,  And She Appears

To Be Anything But Indifferent To His Addresses; You Can Draw Your Own

Conclusions From That,  But,  As I Before Stated,  She Will Be Here Next

Week And Then,  Perhaps,  She May Take You Into Her Confidence. I Can Say

No More On The Matter."

 

"By George! I Hope It Is As You Say. It Would Be A Capital Match For

Her. He Has A First Rate Practice,  Keeps Quite A Stylish Turn Out,  And

Occupies A Handsome House In cavendish Square. I Must Become More

Intimate With Him,  And See If I Cannot Worm Out Exactly What He Is

Driving At." Here Tom Took His Hat,  And Started Down Stairs Three Steps

At A Time,  Nearly Upsetting The Doctor In The Hall In His Great Hurry.

"Beg Pardon,  My Dear Sir,  Quite Accidental I Assure You; In Haste To

Speak To Mr. Cotterell In The Library," Said Tom Apologetically.

 

"Don'T Mention It,  Pray,  Mr. Barton," Was The Reply,  As That Gentleman

Quickly Ascended The Staircase Leading To The Drawing Room.

 

Now,  Tom Really Had No Business With Mr. Cotterell That Evening,  Nor

Would He Have Intruded On That Worthy Person,  But For His Encounter With

The Doctor. He Would,  He Thought,  Not Remain Long With His Aunt,  And It

Would Be A Good Opportunity To Push His Enquiries,  Could He But Manage

To Go Out With Him. His Anticipations Proved Correct. The Doctor Did Not

Remain Long Up Stairs,  And Our Friend Tom Managed To Meet Him Again As

He Was Passing Through The Hall.

 

"Fine Evening,  Sir; Which Way Are You Walking?" Said Tom,  Seeing No

Vehicle In attendance.

 

"I Am Returning To Cavendish Square,  Sir," Was The Ready Reply.

 

"I Also Am Going In That Direction,  And If You Have No Objection Will

Walk With You," Returned Tom Barton. The Two Gentlemen Walked Together,

Chatting In a Very Friendly Way On The Different Topics Of The Day Until

They Had Reached The Door Of The Doctor'S Residence,  When That Gentleman

Surprised Tom By Saying,  "Mr. Barton,  Will You Do Me The Favor To Step

In For A Few Moments? I Wish To Speak To You On A Subject That Cannot

Very Well Be Discussed In The Public Street." Nothing Loath,  Tom Agreed

And Was Ushered Into A Very Snug Apartment,  Half Library,  Half Smoking

Divan.

 

"You Smoke,  Of Course," Said The Doctor,  Pointing At The Same Time To An

Array Of Pipes And Tobacco Of Different Kinds On A Small Side Table.

Fill,  Then,  Drop Into That Easy Chair,  And I Will Tell You Why I Have

Requested You To Enter My Snuggery. Tom Acted Upon His Suggestion,  And

Was Soon Sending Great Puffs Of Smoke Half Way Across The Room. His Host

Followed This Very Laudable Example,  And After A Few Whiffs,  At Once

Opened The Business By Candidly, 

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