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CHETWYND CALVERLEY

By William Harrison Ainsworth,

Author Of “Constable Of The Tower,”

“Lord Mayor Of London,”

“The Tower Of London,”

“Cardinal Pole,” Etc.

New Edition.

Chapman And Hall, 193 Piccadilly. 1877.




CHETWYND CALVERLEY.




INTRODUCTION.--THE YOUNG STEPMOTHER.

I. OUSELCROFT.

|One summer evening, Mildred Calverley, accounted the prettiest girl in
Cheshire, who had been seated in the drawing-room of her father's house,
Ouselcroft, near Daresbury, vainly trying to read, passed out from the
open French window, and made her way towards two magnificent cedars of
Lebanon, at the farther end of the lawn.

She was still pacing the lawn with distracted steps, when a well-known
voice called out to her, and a tall figure emerged from the shade of the
cedars, and Mildred uttered a cry of mingled surprise and delight.

“Is that you, Chetwynd?”

“Ay I don't you know your own brother, Mildred?”

And as they met, they embraced each other affectionately.

“Have you been here long, Chetwynd?” she asked. “Why didn't you come
into the house?”

“I didn't know whether I should be welcome, Mildred. Tell me how all is
going on?”

“Then you have not received my letters, addressed to Bellagio and Milan?
I wrote to tell you that papa is very seriously ill, and begged you to
return immediately. Did you get the letters?”

“No; in fact, I have heard nothing at all from any one of you, directly
nor indirectly, for more than two months.”

“How extraordinary! But how can the letters have miscarried?”

“I might give a guess, but you would think me unjustly suspicious. Is my
father really ill, Mildred?”

“Really very seriously ill. About a month ago he caught a bad cold, and
has never since been able to shake it off. Doctor Spencer, who has been
attending him the whole time, didn't apprehend any danger at first; but
now he almost despairs of papa's recovery.”

“Gracious heaven!” exclaimed the young man; “I didn't expect to be
greeted by this sad intelligence!”

“You have only just come in time to see papa alive! Within the last few
days a great change for the worse has taken place in him. Mamma has been
most attentive, and has scarcely ever left him.”

“She is acting her part well, it seems,” cried Chetwynd, bitterly. “But
don't call her mamma when you speak of her to me, Mildred. Let it be
Mrs. Calverley, if you please.”

“I don't wish to pain you, Chetwynd, but I must tell you the truth. Mrs.
Calverley, as you desire me to call her, has shown the greatest devotion
to her husband, and Doctor Spencer cannot speak too highly of her. She
has had a great deal to go through, I assure you. Since his illness,
poor papa has been very irritable and fretful, and would have tried
anybody's patience--but she has an angelic temper.”

“You give her an excellent character, Mildred,” he remarked, in a
sceptical tone.

“I give her the character she deserves, Chetwynd. Everybody will tell
you the same thing. All the servants idolise her. You know what my
opinion of her is, and how dearly I love her. She is quite a model of a
wife.”

“Don't speak of her in those rapturous terms to me, Mildred, unless you
desire to drive me away. I can't bear it. I wish to think kindly of
my father now. He has caused me much unhappiness, but I forgive him. I
never can forgive _her_.”

“I own you have a good deal to complain of, Chetwynd, and I have always
pitied you.”

“You are the only person who does pity me, I fancy, Mildred. It is not
often that a man is robbed of his intended bride by his own father.
It is quite true that Teresa and I had quarrelled, and that my father
declared if I didn't marry her, he would marry her himself. But I didn't
expect he would put his threats into execution--still less that she
would accept him. I didn't know the fickleness of your sex.”

“It is entirely your own fault, Chetwynd, that this has happened,” said
his sister. “But I know how much you have suffered in consequence of
your