ADELA CHENEVIX. 66 I. It was a magnificent room, everything magnificent about it, as it was fitting the library of Chenevix House should be. Do you know Chenevix House, reader? Not by that appellation, you will say, and it is not intended that you should: but you may see it any day in its aristocratic locality at the west end of London. What good is there to be imagined— worldly good-that fortune, so capricious in her favours, had not showered down upon the owner of this house, the Earl of Oakton? None. With his majority he had come into a princely income, for his father, the late earl, had died years before, and the estates had been well nursed. Better, though, had it been for the young Earl of Oakton that he had been born a younger son or in an inferior class of life. With that spur to exertion, necessity, he would have pushed on and exercised the talents which had been liberally bestowed on him, but gliding as he did into a fortune that seemed unlimited, he plunged into every extravagant folly of the day, and did his best to dissipate it. He was twenty-one then, he is walking about his library now-you may see him if you choose to enter it-with three or four-and-thirty years added to his life: pacing up and down in perplexity, and possessing scarcely a shilling that he can call his own. His five-and-fifty years have rendered his figure a portly oue, and an expression of annoyance is casting its shade on his clear brow and handsome features, but no deeper lines of sorrow are marked there. Not upon these reckless natures does the hand of care leave its sign. But the earl is to make the best of it-in a brown study, and he scowls his eyebrows, and purses his lips, and motions with his hands, as he paces there, communing with himself. Not that he is pondering so much how to escape his already great embarrassments, as how he shall raise more money, and so rush into greater. The gratification of the present moment-little else ever troubled the Earl of Oakton. A noise of a cab in the street as it whirls along and pulls up before the steps and the stately pillars of Chenevix House; a knock and ring that send their echoes through the mansion; and the earl strides forward and looks cautiously from the window, enabling himself to catch a glimpse of the horse and vehicle. It was but a glimpse, for the window was high from the ground, its embrasures deep, and the cab close to the pavement; and, for a moment he could not decide whether it belonged to friend or foe, but soon he drew away with an ugly oath, and sprang across the room, and unlatched the door, and stood with his ear at the opening. What! a peer of the realm condescend to play eavesdropper, in an attitude that looks very like a mean one? Yes and a prince of the realm has done the same, when in bodily fear of duns. A few minutes elapse. The indistinct sound of contention approaches his lordship's ear, in conjunction with a very uncomfortable stream of wind, and then the house door closes with a bang, the cab whirls off again, and the earl rings the library bell. "Jenkins, who was it?" "That impudent Samuels again, my lord. I said you were out, and he swore you were in. I believe he would have pushed his way up here, but James and the porter stood by, and I dare say he thought we three should be a match for him." "Insolent Jew!" uttered his lordship. Then, after a pause, "Has Grubb not been here ?" 66 No, my lord." "It is three hours since I sent to him," muttered the earl, irascibly; "why does he not attend?" "Anything more, my lord?" 66 No, you may go. Mind you are in the hall yourself, Jenkins; you know whom to admit and not admit." "All right, my lord." And the butler, who had lived with the ear! many years, and was a confidential servant, devoted to his master's interests, closed the library door and descended. When that door next opened to admit a visitor, which was not till evening, it was Mr. Grubb who entered. Do not be prejudiced against him on account of his name, but pay attention to him, for he is worthy of it, and he plays a prominent part in this little history. He is thirty years of age, a tall, fine-looking man, with intellect stamped on his ample forehead, and good feeling pervading his countenance. There is no finery or foppery about him, either in dress or manner; he looks like what he really is, a respectable and respected British merchant. The house "Christopher Grubb and Son" is situated somewhere in the City: it does business with India, and the colonies, and ever so many more places; though what the precise business is the earl does not pretend to understand, and never troubled himself to inquire: but he does know, or believes, that it is second to few in wealth, and that he himself is a pretty considerable debtor to it. It was no money-lending house that of Grubb and Son. But years ago the father, old Christopher, and Lord Oakton were brought into contact, an intimacy approaching to friendship sprang up between them, and the merchant, confiding in the earl's plausible and half-false statement (halffalse for the earl, in his careless infatuation, positively thought his embarrassments were only for a time) that he wanted "temporary" assistance, advanced him a heavy sum at a fair rate of interest, and, subsequently, several lesser sums, with a view of getting the first back, which he had never done. Old Christopher Grubb was now dead, and his son Charles was the sole representative of the house: he had been prevailed upon to lend a few additional "trifles," and Lord Oakton indulged sanguine hopes of receiving yet a few more. "Ah, Grubb, how d'ye do?" exclaimed his lordship, holding out his hand cordially. "I thought you were never coming." "It is foreign post night," was the merchant's reply. "I could not leave the City earlier." "And the "Grubb, I am hard up, cleared down to the last gasp, and money I must have," began his lordship. "I want you to advance it." "Not another farthing, my lord," was the resolute reply. steps, which I hinted to you last week I should be obliged to take, in order to get back what I have already advanced—” "Rubbish!" interrupted the earl, in a tone more impatient than complimentary. "You have good hold on the Netherleigh estate." "For the original debt, yes. But look at the sums advanced since. This has been a bad year with me, trade has been flat with every one, and I really want the money." Lord Oakton burst into a laugh. "Bad year! that's rich. Because you may have cleared half a plum instead of a whole one, you lament over your bad year. Why you know, Grubb, that you are rolling in wealth: my debt to you is but as a drop of water in its ocean bed. I want two thousand, down upon the nail." "Lord Oakton, I cannot do it. And if you continue to persist in shutting your eyes to what I assert, when consequences follow, it will be your fault, not mine. I have already told you I am about to take a partner, for my affairs, which have increased in importance since my father's death, are becoming too weighty for one sole head. Before entering upon this new arrangement, a portion of your obligations must be returned to me; all save what is secured on the Netherleigh estate. It is imperative." "Did you ever get blood from a stone?" asked the earl; and the careless apathy of his manner contrasted strongly with the earnestness of the merchant's. "There's no chance of your getting the money back till I am under here," stamping with his foot on the ground, "and you know it. I speak freely to you, Grubb, presuming on my long friendship with your father. Come, don't turn Jew at last. You don't want the money, and you must wait. I wish I had had a son! we would have cut off the entail." "The debts must be liquidated," returned Mr. Grubb; and he spoke so coldly and determinedly that Lord Oakton wheeled sharply round in his walk, and looked at him. "I don't know how the devil it will be done, then. I suppose you won't proceed to harsh measures, and bring a hornet's nest about my head." "There is one way in which your lordship can pay it," resumed the merchant, in a low voice, "and it will not cost you a shilling." "Ah!" laughed the earl, "how's that? If you mean post obit bonds, I'll sign a cart-load, if you like." Mr. Grubb rose from his seat in a sort of nervous agitation, and approached the earl. "Give me your daughter, my lord," he stammered; "I will take her in lieu of all." The peer was considerably startled, and the proud Chenevix blood rose, and dyed his forehead crimson. His daughter become one with this City man, descend from her own order, and unite herself with a trader! The two stood looking at each other, neither speaking, and the earl began to revolve in his mind the pros of the matter, as well as the cons. Lady Grace was no longer young-his thoughts had reverted to the eldest of his five daughters-she was growing ugly and very cross, for she had been before the marriageable world ten years, with no result. Would it be so bad a match for her? "The Netherleigh property must be mine eventually," said Mr. Grubb. "I will settle it upon her, besides an ample income for pin money. And your unpaid bonds for all the smaller sums-there are many of them, my lord-I will return into your hands. Thus your debt Feb.-VOL. CVI. NO. CCCCXXII. L to me will be cancelled, and, so far as I am concerned, you are a free man again." 66 Egad, Grubb's a generous fellow!" cogitated the earl, "and it will be a famous thing for Grace. Have you ever spoken to her of this ?" he asked, aloud. "To your daughter? No." "Do you think Grace likes you?" "Grace?" echoed Mr. Grubb. "Has she an inkling of this? tween you and Grace?" Is there any private understanding be "I am not speaking of Lady Grace," returned the merchant. "No!" repeated the earl, opening his eyes wider than usual; "of which then ?" If the Earl of Oakton was startled at the first hint of this proposed alliance, when he jumped to the conclusion that its object was Lady Grace, he was considerably more startled now. Adela! young, beautiful, and haughty-she would never have him. His first impulse was to indignantly reject the proposition; his second thought, that he was trammelled and dared not. "I cannot force Adela's inclinations," he said, after an awkward pause. "Neither would I take a wife whose inclinations required to be forced," answered the merchant, in his turn. "My lord," cried a servant, entering the library, "her ladyship wishes to know how long she is to wait dinner?" "Dinner!" exclaimed the earl. "By Jove! it's a quarter past six, Grubb. Will you join us, sans cérémonie ?" It was not the first time, by many, that the merchant had dined there. He followed the earl into the drawing-room. Lady Oakton was in it, a little woman, all fire and impatience; especially just now, for if one thing put her out more than another, it was that of being kept waiting for her meals. The five daughters were there: they need not be described. Lady Grace, plain in appearance, and eight-and-twenty, was the eldest; Lady Adela, a very flower of beauty, and twenty-one, was the youngest. "Here's the grub again," whispered the girls amongst themselves, when they saw him enter with their father. Not that they had cause to dislike the merchant, or wished to express any particular contempt for him, but they looked upon him as of a different order from their own aristocratic selves, and made a private joke of his name. Four of them stepped forward, and greeted him: Lady Adela, indolent and self-in,dulged, did not condescend to do either. "Dinner at once," cried the countess, impatiently. "Of course it's all cold," she sharply added, for the especial benefit of her husband. Mr. Grubb had gone to the upper end of the room and was speaking with the young ladies, and the earl leaned over the back of his wife's chair, and began to whisper to her. "Lady Oakton, the strangest thing! Grubb wants to marry one of the girls." "Absurd!" responded the wrathful little countess. "So it does appear, at the first blush. But when we come to look at the advantages-now do listen reasonably for a moment," broke off the earl, " you are as much interested in this as I am. He will settle the Netherleigh estate, and other moneys, on her, and cancel all my debts to him." "Did he say so?" quickly cried the countess, putting off her anger to a less interested moment. "He did. I want to get a couple of thousands out of him, too: it will be easy enough, if we don't thwart him in this. If I do, you shall have five hundred of it for that cursed importuning milliner-woman, which will enable you all to get a new rig-out," concluded the wily earl, conscious that if his self-willed better-half set her temper against the match, the Archbishop of Canterbury himself could never tie it into one. "Which of them does he want?" inquired the countess, snappishly, as if wishing to intimate that though she might have to say Yes, it should be done with an ill grace. "He's talking now with-which is it?Mary." "I thought it was Grace," began the earl, in a deprecatory tone; "I took that for granted "Dinner, my lady," interrupted a servant, throwing open the foldingdoors. And the earl started up, and said not another word. He thought it well that his lady-wife should digest the news so far, before proceeding further with it. The countess, on her part, understood that all was told, and that the asked-for bride was Lady Grace. The merchant took the countess in to dinner, and sat on her right hand. Lady Grace was next him on the other side. He was an agreeable man, easy in his manners: could they have ignored the City house, and he boasted of ancestry and a high-sounding name, they could not have wished for a companion who was more thoroughly the gentleman. Unusually agreeable he was that day, his intercourse with them more cordial than it had ever been, the little courtesies of the table rendered with a greater freedom; for Mr. Grubb now believed there would be no bar thrown in the way of his winning the Lady Adela. He had long admired her above all women, he had long loved her, and the glow of happiness sealed this evening in his heart, diffused itself to his manners. He saw no reason why any bar should be thrown: what incompatibility ought to exist between the portionless daughter of a ruined peer and a British merchant of high character and standing, and next to unlimited wealth? The ruined peer, however, had he heard this argument, might have said the merchant reasoned but in accordance with his merchantorigin; that he could not be expected to understand distinctions which were above him. The Countess of Oakton rose from table early. She had been making up her mind to the match, during dinner: like her husband, she discovered, on reflection, its numerous advantages, and she was impatient to disclose the matter to Lady Grace. Mr. Grubb walked to the door, and held it open as they filed out, for which the countess thanked him by a bow more cordial than she had ever bestowed on him in her life. It was the month of September. "Engagements"-he did not say of what nature-had prolonged the earl's stay in town, though the season had long concluded, and the girls gathered round the autumn fire in the drawing-room, and prepared themselves for a stupid evening. Lady Adela sank in an easy-chair, and took up a book listlessly. She rarely |