"Come, child, the dew is falling, and it is time we went in."
"No, no, Mamma is not rested yet, so I may run down to the spring if I
like." And Lillian, as willful as winsome, vanished among the tall ferns
where deer couched and rabbits hid.
Hester leisurely followed, looking as unchanged as if a day instead of
twelve years had passed since her arms received the little mistress, who
now ruled her like a tyrant. She had taken but a few steps when the
child came flying back, exclaiming in an excited tone, "Oh, come quick!
There’s a man there, a dead man. I saw him and I’m frightened!"
"Nonsense, child, it’s one of the keepers asleep, or some stroller who
has no business here. Take my hand and we’ll see who it is."
Somewhat reassured, Lillian led her nurse to one of the old oaks beside
the path, and pointed to a figure lying half hidden in the fern. A
slender, swarthy boy of sixteen, with curly black hair, dark brows, and
thick lashes, a singularly stern mouth, and a general expression of
strength and pride, which added character to his boyish face and
dignified his poverty. His dress betrayed that, being dusty and
threadbare, his shoes much worn, and his possessions contained in the
little bundle on which he pillowed his head. He was sleeping like one
quite spent with weariness, and never stirred, though Hester bent away
the ferns and examined him closely.
"He’s not dead, my deary; he’s asleep, poor lad, worn out with his day’s
tramp, I dare say." "I’m glad he’s alive, and I wish he’d wake up. He’s
a pretty boy, isn’t he? See what nice hands he’s got, and his hair is
more curly than mine. Make him open his eyes, Hester," commanded the
little lady, whose fear had given place to interest.
"Hush, he’s stirring. I wonder how he got in, and what he wants,"
"I’ll ask him," and before her nurse could arrest her, Lillian drew a
tall fern softly over the sleeper’s face, laughing aloud as she did so.
The boy woke at the sound, and without stirring lay looking up at the
lovely little face bent over him, as if still in a dream.
"Bella cara," he said, in a musical voice. Then, as the child drew
back abashed at the glance of his large, bright eyes, he seemed to wake
entirely and, springing to his feet, looked at Hester with a quick,
searching glance. Something in his face and air caused the woman to
soften her tone a little, as she said gravely, "Did you wish to see any
one at the Hall?"
"Yes. Is Lady Trevlyn here?" was the boy’s answer, as he stood cap in
hand, with the smile fading already from his face.
"She is, but unless your business is very urgent you had better see
Parks, the keeper; we don’t trouble my lady with trifles."
"I’ve a note for her from Colonel Daventry; and as it is not a trifle,
I’ll deliver it myself, if you please."
Hester hesitated an instant, but Lillian cried out, "Mamma is close by,
come and see her," and led the way, beckoning as she ran.
The lad followed with a composed air, and Hester brought up the rear,
taking notes as she went with a woman’s keen eye.
Lady Trevlyn, a beautiful, pale woman, delicate in health and melancholy
in spirit, sat on a rustic seat with a book in her hand; not reading,
but musing with an absent mind. As the child approached, she held out
her hand to welcome her, but neither smiled nor spoke.
"Mamma, here is a – a person to see you," cried Lillian, rather at a loss
how to designate the stranger, whose height and gravity now awed her.
"A note from Colonel Daventry, my lady," and with a bow the boy
delivered the missive.
Scarcely glancing at him, she opened it and read:
My Dear Friend,
_The bearer of this, Paul Jex, has been with me some months and has
served me well. I brought him from Paris, but he is English born, and,
though friendless, prefers to remain here, even after we leave, as we do
in a week. When I last saw you you mentioned wanting a lad to help in
the garden; Paul is accustomed to that employment, though my wife used
him as a sort of page in the house. Hoping you may be able to give him
shelter, I venture to send him. He is honest, capable, and trustworthy
in all respects. Pray try him, and oblige_,
J. R. Daventry
"The place is still vacant, and I shall be very glad to give it to you,
if you incline to take it," said Lady Trevlyn, lifting her eyes from the
note and scanning the boy’s face.
"I do, madam," he answered respectfully.
"The colonel says you are English," added the lady, in a tone of
The boy smiled, showing a faultless set of teeth, as he replied, "I am,
my lady, though just now I may not look it, being much tanned and very
dusty. My father was an Englishman, but I’ve lived abroad a good deal
since he died, and got foreign ways, perhaps."
As he spoke without any accent, and looked full in her face with a pair
of honest blue eyes under the dark lashes, Lady Trevlyn’s momentary
"Your age, Paul?"
"Sixteen, my lady."
"You understand gardening?"
"Yes, my lady."
"And what else?"
"I can break horses, serve at table, do errands, read aloud, ride after
a young lady as groom, illuminate on parchment, train flowers, and make
myself useful in any way."
The tone, half modest, half eager, in which the boy spoke, as well as
the odd list of his accomplishments, brought a smile to Lady Trevlyn’s
lips, and the general air of the lad prepossessed her.
"I want Lillian to ride soon, and Roger is rather old for an escort to
such a little horsewoman. Don’t you think we might try Paul?" she said,
turning to Hester.
The woman gravely eyed the lad from head to foot, and shook her head,
but an imploring little gesture and a glance of the handsome eyes
softened her heart in spite of herself.
"Yes, my lady, if he does well about the place, and Parks thinks he’s
steady enough, we might try it by-and-by."
Lillian clapped her hands and, drawing nearer, exclaimed confidingly, as
she looked up at her new groom, "I know he’ll do, Mamma. I like him very
much, and I hope you’ll let him train my pony for me. Will you, Paul?"
As he spoke very low and hastily, the boy looked away from the eager
little face before him, and a sudden flush of color crossed his dark
Hester saw it and said within herself, "That boy has good blood in his
veins. He’s no clodhopper’s son, I can tell by his hands and feet, his
air and walk. Poor lad, it’s hard for him, I’ll warrant, but he’s not
too proud for honest work, and I like that."
"You may stay, Paul, and we will try you for a month. Hester, take him
to Parks and see that he is made comfortable. Tomorrow we will see what
he can do. Come, darling, I am rested now."
As she spoke, Lady Trevlyn dismissed the boy with a gracious gesture and
led her little daughter away. Paul stood watching her, as if forgetful
of his companion, till she said, rather tartly, "Young man, you’d better
have thanked my lady while she was here than stare after her now it’s
too late. If you want to see Parks, you’d best come, for I’m going."
"Is that the family tomb yonder, where you found me asleep?" was the
unexpected reply to her speech, as the boy quietly followed her, not at
all daunted by her manner.
"Yes, and that reminds me to ask how you got in, and why you were
napping there, instead of doing your errand properly?"
"I leaped the fence and stopped to rest before presenting myself, Miss
Hester" was the cool answer, accompanied by a short laugh as he
confessed his trespass.
"You look as if you’d had a long walk; where are you from?"
"Bless the boy! It’s fifty miles away."
"So my shoes show; but it’s a pleasant trip in summer time."
"But why did you walk, child! Had you no money?"
"Plenty, but not for wasting on coaches, when my own stout legs could
carry me. I took a two days’ holiday and saved my money for better
"I like that," said Hester, with an approving nod. "You’ll get on, my
lad, if that’s your way, and I’ll lend a hand, for laziness is my
abomination, and one sees plenty nowadays."
"Thank you. That’s friendly, and I’ll prove that I am grateful. Please
tell me, is my lady ill?"
"Always delicate since Sir Richard died."
"How long ago was that?"
"Ten years or more."
"Are there no young gentlemen in the family?"
"No, Miss Lillian is an only child, and a sweet one, bless her!"
"A proud little lady, I should say."
"And well she may be, for there’s no better blood in England than the
Trevlyns, and she’s heiress to a noble fortune."
"Is that the Trevlyn coat of arms?" asked the boy abruptly, pointing to
a stone falcon with the motto ME AND MINE carved over the gate through
which they were passing.
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Mere curiosity; I know something of heraldry and often paint these
things for my own pleasure. One learns odd amusements abroad," he added,
seeing an expression of surprise on the woman’s face.
"You’ll have little time for such matters here. Come in and report
yourself to the keeper, and if you’ll take my advice ask no questions of
him, for you’ll get no answers."
"I seldom ask questions of men, as they are not fond of gossip." And the
boy nodded with a smile of mischievous significance as he entered the
A sharp lad and a saucy, if he likes. I’ll keep my eye on him, for my
lady takes no more thought of such things than a child, and Lillian
cares for nothing but her own will. He has a taking way with him,
though, and knows how to flatter. It’s well he does, poor lad, for
life’s a hard matter to a friendless soul like him.
As she thought these thoughts Hester went on to the house, leaving Paul
to win the good graces of the keeper, which he speedily did by assuming
an utterly different manner from that he had worn with the woman.
That night, when the boy was alone in his own room, he wrote a long
letter in Italian describing the events of the day, enclosed a sketch of
the falcon and motto, directed it to "Father Cosmo Carmela, Genoa," and
lay down to sleep, muttering, with a grim look and a heavy sigh, "So far
so well; I’ll not let my heart be softened by pity, or my purpose change
till my promise is kept. Pretty child, I wish I had never seen her!"