



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Ralph Clavering, by W.H.G. Kingston.

________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________
RALPH CLAVERING, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.



CHAPTER ONE.

A young girl dressed in a cloak and hat, and looking sad and somewhat
timid, stood in the middle of the large hall of a fine old country
house.  The floor was of oak, and the walls were covered with dark oak
wainscoting, from which hung down several full-length portraits of grim
old knights and gentlemen in bag wigs, and ladies in court suits,
looking very prim and stern.

The hall door was open, and through it was seen a post-chaise, from
which a footman was extracting a small trunk and a variety of other
articles, under the direction of a woman who, it was evident, had also
just arrived.  As there was no one to notice the young lady, she amused
herself by looking round the hall and examining the portraits.

While she was thus employed, a door opened, and a lad appeared, who,
running forward, put out his hand, and said, "And so you are my own
cousin, are you? and your name is Lilly Vernon, is it?"

The young lady looked up with a quick, intelligent glance, and answered,
"If you are Ralph Clavering, I conclude we are cousins, for I am, as you
suppose, Lilly Vernon."

"All right--how jolly!" exclaimed the boy.  "We have been looking for
you for some days, and I have been expecting to have great fun when you
came.  I once had a sister, but she is dead, and I have terribly wanted
some one to help me kill the time since then, though I would far rather
have had a boy cousin, I will tell you that."

"I would rather help you to employ time than to kill it, Cousin Ralph,"
said Lilly, with a smile.  "It may chance to come off the victor
otherwise."

"Oh, is that the way you talk?  I don't like preaching," exclaimed Ralph
petulantly, and turning away with a frown.  He came back, however, and
added, "But I don't want to quarrel with you.  Come into the
dining-room, and warm yourself by the fire, and have some luncheon.  I
was eating mine when you arrived, and I have not finished.  We shall be
all alone, for papa is out hunting, and mamma is ill in bed, as she
always is.  I should have gone out after the hounds too, but I was ill
and lazy.  I intend to take a trot this afternoon though.  You can ride
I hope--if not, I will teach you; but ride you must, that I am
determined."

"Oh, I can ride almost anything.  I had a pony of my own--a spirited
little creature--at home," answered Lilly, a shade of melancholy passing
over her features as she pronounced the word home.

Ralph did not observe it, but answered, "Oh, that's capital!  I should
like to see you ride with me though, and take a ditch or a gate.  There
are not many things I do well, perhaps; but I do that, at all events."

"Perhaps you try to do that, and don't try to do anything else,"
remarked Lilly.

"Oh, there you are again!" exclaimed Ralph, "I will not stand
sermonising--remember that--so you had better knock off at once."

He spoke in a tone so dictatorial and loud that Lilly stared at him,
wondering whether or not he was in earnest.

The two young people had by this time reached the dining-room, where a
substantial luncheon was spread, speaking well for the hospitality of
Clavering Hall.  Ralph, having helped his cousin with a courtesy which
showed that he was well accustomed to do the honours of the table,
filled his own plate with no unsparing hand, and addressed himself
steadily to discuss the viands.

Lilly, who quickly got through her meal, looked up more than once,
wondering when he would finish and talk to her again.  Poor girl! she
could not help feeling sad and forlorn.  She perceived instantly that
Ralph was not a person to treat her with sympathy, and at the best his
kindness would be precarious.  She was the daughter of a clergyman in
the south of Ireland.  Both he and her mother had died during a famine
which had raged in that country.  She had been thus left an orphan, and
had been committed to the guardianship of her uncle and only near
relation, Mr Clavering, of Clavering Hall.  Unhappily he was not a
person well fitted for the responsible office.  Mrs Clavering was an
invalid, and seldom quitted her bed-room.  As Mr Clavering was also
constantly from home, engaged in magisterial duties, or in hunting or
shooting, their son Ralph was very much neglected and left to his own
devices.  These devices were too often bad, while, as was to be
expected, he found his associates among his father's grooms, and other
uneducated persons willing to flatter him.  Thus noxious weeds were
springing up in his disposition, which should carefully have been rooted
out as they appeared; indeed.  Master Ralph Clavering was being utterly
ruined at the time of Lilly Vernon's arrival at Clavering Hall.  He had
been to school for some years, so that he was not altogether uneducated;
but his education was far from finished when he unexpectedly appeared at
home, and it was soon whispered about that he had been expelled for some
act of insubordination and a flagrant exhibition of violence of temper.
After this, as his father did not think fit to send him to another
school, he was placed under the nominal charge of the curate of the
parish, who undertook to superintend his further education till he was
old enough to go to college.  As, however, he only spent with him a few
hours in the morning, and found numerous excuses for keeping away
altogether, neither his character improved, nor did his progress in
learning become satisfactory.  Ralph, thus unchecked, yielded more
frequently to his temper, became more dictatorial and tyrannical every
day, till he was rather feared and disliked than loved by all with whom
he came in contact.  Such is the not very pleasant character our hero
had obtained at the time our history commences.



CHAPTER TWO.

Lilly Vernon had been for some weeks at Clavering Hall.  She had been
kindly received by her uncle and aunt, had completely got over the
timidity she felt on her arrival, and had found herself perfectly at
home.  Not so Biddy O'Reardon, her former nurse, who had accompanied her
from Ireland, and was desired to remain as her personal attendant.
Biddy did not comprehend all that was said, and thought that the other
servants were laughing at her, and declared that though Clavering Hall
was a fine place, its ways were not those to which she had been
accustomed, and she heartily wished herself back at Ballyshannon in the
dear ould country.  Still, for the love of the young mistress, she would
stay wherever she stayed, though it was a pity she had so
ill-conditioned a spalpeen of a cousin to be her companion.  These
remarks reached Ralph's ears, and he and Biddy became on far from good
terms.  He revenged himself by playing her all sorts of tricks.  One day
he came into the little sitting-room in which she sat with Lilly and
begged her to sew a button on his coat.  Poor Biddy good-naturedly
assented, but on opening her workbox found that her thimble had been
trodden flat, her scissors divided, and all her reels of cotton
exchanged for small pebbles!  Enjoying her anger and vexation, Ralph ran
laughing away, while Lilly gently, though indignantly, reproved him for
his un