



Produced by Sandra Laythorpe.  HTML version by Al Haines.









DYNEVOR TERRACE.

VOL. II.


BY

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE




CONTENTS

      1.  THE TRYSTE.
     II.  THE THIRD TIME.
    III.  MISTS.
     IV.  OUTWARD BOUND.
      V.  THE NEW WORLD.
     VI.  THE TWO PENDRAGONS.
    VII.  ROLAND AND OLIVER
   VIII.  THE RESTORATION.
     IX.  THE GIANT OF THE WESTERN STAR.
      X.  THE WRONG WOMAN IN THE WRONG PLACE.
     XI.  AUNT CATHARINE'S HOME.
    XII.  THE FROST HOUSEHOLD.
   XIII.  THE CONWAY HOUSEHOLD.
    XIV.  THE TRUSTEES' MEETING.
     XV.  SWEET USES OF ADVERSITY.
    XVI.  THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION.
   XVII.  'BIDE A WEE.'
  XVIII.  THE CRASH.
    XIX.  FAREWELL TO GREATNESS.
     XX.  WESTERN TIDINGS.
    XXI.  STEPPING WESTWARD.
   XXII.  RATHER SUDDEN.
  XXIII.  THE MARVEL OF PERU.




CHAPTER I.

THE TRYSTE.

  One single flash of glad surprise
  Just glanced from Isabel's dark eyes,
  Then vanished in the blush of shame
  That as its penance instant came--
  'O thought unworthy of my race!'
                     The Lord of the Isles.


As little recked Fitzjocelyn of the murmurs which he had provoked, as
he guessed the true secret of his victory.  In his eyes, it was the
triumph of merit over prejudice, and Mrs. Frost espoused the same
gratifying view, though ascribing much to her nephew's activity, and
James himself, flushed with hope and success, was not likely to dissent.

Next they had to make their conquest available.  Apart from Louis's
magnificent prognostications, at the lowest computation, the head
master's income amounted to a sum which to James appeared affluence;
and though there was no house provided, it mattered the less since
there were five to choose from in the Terrace, even if his grandmother
had not wished that their household should be still the same.  With
Miss Conway's own fortune and the Terrace settled on herself, where
could be any risk?

Would Lady Conway think so? and how should the communication be made?
James at first proposed writing to her, enclosing a letter to Isabel;
but he changed his mind, unable to satisfy himself that, when absent
from restraint, she might not send a refusal without affording her
daughter the option.  He begged his grandmother to write to Isabel; but
she thought her letter might carry too much weight, and, whatever might
be her hopes, it was not for her to tell the young lady that such means
were sufficient.

Louis begged to be the bearer of the letter.  His aunt would certainly
keep terms with him, and he could insure that the case was properly
laid before Isabel; and, as there could be no doubt at present of his
persuasive powers, James caught at the offer.  The party were still at
Beauchastel, and he devised going to his old quarters at Ebbscreek, and
making a descent upon them from thence.

When he came to take up his credentials, he found James and his little
black leathern bag, determined to come at least to Ebbscreek with him,
and declaring it made him frantic to stay at home and leave his cause
in other hands, and that he could not exist anywhere but close to the
scene of action.

Captain Hannaford was smoking in his demi-boat, and gave his former
lodgers a hearty welcome, but he twinkled knowingly with his eye, and
so significantly volunteered to inform them that the ladies were still
at Beauchastel, that James's wrath at the old skipper's impudence began
to revive, and he walked off to the remotest end of the garden.

The Captain, remaining with Louis, with whom he was always on far more
easy terms, looked after the other gentleman, winked again, and
confessed that he had suspected one or other of them might be coming
that way this summer, though he could not say he had expected to see
them both together.

'Mind, Captain,' said Louis,' it wasn't _I_ that made the boat late
this time last year.'

'Well!  I might be wrong, I fancied you cast an eye that way.  Then
maybe it ain't true what's all over the place here.'

Louis pressed to hear what.  'Why, that when the French were going on
like Robert Spear and them old times, he had convoyed the young lady
right through the midst of them, and they would both have been shot, if
my Lady's butler hadn't come down with a revolver, killed half-a-dozen
of the mob, and rescued them out of it, but that Lord Fitzjocelyn had
been desperately wounded in going back to fetch her bracelet, and Mr.
Delaford had carried him out in his arms.'

'Well!' said Louis, coolly, without altering a muscle of his face, as
the Captain looked for an angry negative.

'And when they got home,--so the story went,--Mr. Frost, the tutor, was
so mad with jealousy and rage, that my Lady declared those moorings
would not suit her no longer, but had let go, and laid her head right
for Beauchastel.'

'Pray what was the young lady supposed to think of the matter?'

'Stories appeared to vary.  One version said that Mr. Delaford had
found him on his knees to her; and that my Lady had snatched her
cruelly away, because she would not have her married before her own
daughters, and looked over all