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MILDRED ARKELL.

A Novel.

by

MRS. HENRY WOOD,

Author of
"East Lynne," "Lord Oakburn's Daughters," "Trevlyn Hold,"
etc. etc.

In Three Volumes.

VOL. II.







London:
Tinsley Brothers, Catherine Street, Strand.
1865.
All rights of Translation and Reproduction are reserved.

London:
Savill and Edwards, Printers, Chandos-Street,
Covent-Garden.




CONTENTS.


  CHAP.                                            PAGE

     I. THE SCHOOL-BOY'S LOVE                         1
    II. THE TOUR OF DAVID DUNDYKE, ESQUIRE           20
   III. A MEETING AT GRENOBLE                        37
    IV. A MYSTERY                                    65
     V. HOME IN DESPAIR                              87
    VI. NEWS FOR WESTERBURY                         102
   VII. ROBERT CARR'S VISIT                         118
  VIII. GOING OVER TO SQUIRE CARR'S                 137
    IX. A STARTLED LUNCHEON-TABLE                   153
     X. A MISSIVE FOR SQUIRE CARR                   175
    XI. THE LAST OF ROBERT CARR                     191
   XII. MR. RICHARDS' MORNING CALL                  214
  XIII. A DISLIKE THAT WAS TO BEAR ITS FRUITS       230
   XIV. THE EXAMINATION                             251
    XV. A NIGHT WITH THE GHOSTS                     272
   XVI. PERPLEXITY                                  294
  XVII. A SHADOW OF THE FUTURE                      315




MILDRED ARKELL.




CHAPTER I.

THE SCHOOL-BOY'S LOVE.


A brilliant evening in July. The sun had been blazing all day with
intense force, glittering on the white pavement of the streets,
scorching the dry and thirsty earth; and it was not until his beams
shone from the very verge of the horizon that the gay butterflies of
humanity ventured to come forth.

Groups were wending their way to the Bishop's Garden: not the private
garden of the respected prelate who reigned over the diocese of
Westerbury, but a semi-public garden-promenade called by that name. In
the years long gone by, a bishop of Westerbury caused a piece of waste
land belonging to the grounds of his palace to be laid out as an
ornamental garden. Broad sunny walks for the cold of winter, shady
winding ones for the heat of summer, shrubberies and trees, flower-beds
and grass-plots, miniature rocks and a fountain, were severally formed
there; and then the bishop threw it open to the public, and it had ever
since gone by the name of the Bishop's Garden. Not to the public
indiscriminately--only to those of superior degree; the catering for the
recreation of the public indiscriminately had not come into fashion
then. It had always lain especially under the patronage of the residents
of the grounds, and they took care--or the Cerberus of a gatekeeper did
for them--that no inferior person should dare venture within yards of
it: a tradesman might not so much as put his nose through the iron
railings to take a peep in.

The garden was getting full when a college boy--he might be known by his
trencher--passed the gate with a slow step. A party had just gone in
whose movements his eyes had eagerly followed, but he was not near
enough to speak. As he looked after them wistfully, his eye caught
something glittering on the ground, and he stooped and picked it up. It
was a small locket of gold, bearing the initials "G. B."

He knew to whom it belonged. He would have given half his remaining
life, as it seemed, to go in and restore it to its owner. But that might
not be; for the college boys, whether king's scholars or private pupils,
were rigorously excluded by custom from the Bishop's Garden. And
Williams, the gatekeeper, was stealing up then.

He was tall of his age, looking about sixteen, though he was not quite
so much; tall enough to lean over the iron railings, which he did with
intense eagerness; and never did woman's face betray more beauty,
whether of form or colouring, than did his.

It was Henry Arkell. For the years have gone on, and the lovely boy of
ten or eleven, has grown into this handsome youth. Other people and
other things have grown with him.

"Now then! What be you doing here? You just please to take yourself off,
young gentleman."

He quitted the railings in obedience; the college boys never thought of
disputing the orders of the gatekeeper. Stepping backwards with a sort
of spring, he stepped upon the foot of some one who was approaching the
