Clara Maynard Part 1

Clara Maynard.

by W.H.G. Kingston.

CHAPTER ONE.

The blue waters of the British Channel sparkled brightly in the rays of the sun, s.h.i.+ning forth from a cloudless sky, as a light breeze from the northward filled the sails of a small yacht which glided smoothly along the southern coast of England. At the helm of the little vessel stood her owner, Captain Maynard, a retired naval officer. Next to his fair young daughter, Clara, the old sailor looked upon his yacht as one of the most beautiful things in existence. Though her crew consisted but of two men and a boy, and she measured scarcely five-and-twenty tons, he declared that if it were necessary he would sail round the world in her without the slightest hesitation.

"Flatten in the jib, and take a pull at the main-sheet, my lads, and we shall run into the bay without a tack, if the wind holds as it does now," he sang out.

The men, as they came aft to execute the latter order, had to disturb some of the pa.s.sengers, of whom there were several, seated on cloaks round the skylight, or standing up holding on to the weather rigging, or leaning against the main-boom. Clara Maynard, accustomed to yachting, promptly moved to windward, aided by Harry Caulfield, a young military officer, who had ridden over that morning to Luton, for the pleasure of making a trip on board the yacht; but her aunt, Miss Sarah Pemberton, looked somewhat annoyed at being asked to s.h.i.+ft her seat. Harry, however, came to her a.s.sistance, and placed a camp-stool for her against the weather bulwarks.

"I am sorry, Sarah, to inconvenience you," said the captain, good-naturedly, "but we haven't as much room on board the _Ariadne_ as on the deck of a line-of-battle s.h.i.+p."

The captain had called his yacht after the first s.h.i.+p in which he went to sea.

The cutter having rounded a lofty point, a small and beautiful bay opened out ahead; and the wind remaining steady, without making another tack, she stood in directly for it.

"We could not have chosen a more lovely spot for our picnic," exclaimed Clara. "See, Aunt Sarah--I am sure you will be pleased when you get there. Watch those picturesque cliffs, ever changing in shape as we sail along--and see those breezy downs above them, and the fine yellow sands below, and that pretty valley with the old fisherman's cottage on one side, and the clear stream running down its centre, and leaping over the rocks in a tiny cascade."

"I shall be very glad to get safe on sh.o.r.e," answered Miss Pemberton, who had been persuaded, much against her will, to venture for the first time on board the little _Ariadne_.

She had been invited, on the death of Clara's mother, her younger sister, to take up her abode with her widowed brother-in-law, and had only lately accepted his frequently repeated offer. Whatever good qualities she might have possessed, she was certainly not attractive in appearance, being tall and thin, with a cold and forbidding manner.

Clara treated her aunt with due respect, and did all she could to win her affections, though she tried in vain to bestow that love she would willingly have given. Miss Pemberton presented a strong contrast to her niece, who was generally admired. Clara was very fair, of moderate height, and of a slight and elegant figure, with regular features and a pleasing smile; though a physiognomist might have suspected that she wanted the valuable quality of firmness, which in her position was especially necessary; for she already possessed a good fortune, and would inherit a considerable one. Her father, although a sailor of the old school, was not dest.i.tute of discernment, and thoroughly understanding her character, earnestly wished to see her married to a sensible, upright man, who would protect her and take good care of her property. He had therefore given every encouragement to Harry Caulfield, son of his old and esteemed friend, General Caulfield. He had known and liked Harry from his boyhood, and fully believed that he possessed those sterling qualities which would tend to secure his daughter's happiness. Harry had met her when staying with some friends at Cheltenham, and admired her before he knew that she possessed a fortune. He had thus the satisfaction of feeling that his love was purely disinterested. Of this she was aware, and it had greatly influenced her in returning his affection. When Clara wrote to her father, from whom she had no concealments, to tell him of the attention she was receiving from Captain Caulfield, his reply was, "I am very glad indeed to hear it; nothing could give me greater pleasure. Tell him to come down to Luton, and that I shall be delighted to see him."

Clara shortly afterwards returned home with her Aunt Sarah, and Harry of course followed, accompanied by his father, the general, who, finding a house in the neighbourhood vacant, engaged it for the sake of being near Captain Maynard, and thus enabling the young people to be together without depriving himself of his son's society. Harry's regiment was in India, and he was under orders to rejoin it. Though fond of his profession, in which he had gained distinction, and had every prospect of rising, he at first thought of selling out; but to this his father objected, and even Captain Maynard agreed that, as Clara was very young, they might wait a couple of years till he had obtained another step in rank, and that he would then consent to her accompanying him back, if necessary, to India. The course of true love in this instance appeared to run smoothly enough. Harry was most devoted in his attentions, and admired Clara more and more every day he spent with her--while she was satisfied that it would be impossible for her to love any one more; and had not she felt that it was her duty to remain with her father, she would willingly have married at once, and gone out to India. She saw clearly, however, that her Aunt Sarah was not suited to take her place or attend to her father, as she had observed of late that his health was failing, so that even for Harry's sake she could not bring herself to quit him. She had therefore consented to Harry's leaving her, though not without a severe struggle. It was the first shadow which had come over her young and hitherto happy life since the loss of her beloved mother. She was convinced that Harry was in every way worthy of her affections. He was a fine, handsome fellow, with frank agreeable manners, and a large amount of good sense and judgment. He had managed even to win the good opinion of Miss Sarah Pemberton, who was not in general inclined to think well of young men especially of officers in the army, whom she designated generally as an impudent, profligate set, with fluent tongues and insinuating manners, whose chief occupation in life was to break the hearts of young girls foolish enough to trust them.

Among the rest of the company on board the yacht was Mary Lennard, a girl of about fourteen years old, a sweet young creature, and a great favourite of Clara's. She was the daughter of the Reverend John Lennard, who had been for some years vicar of the parish of Luton-c.u.m-Crosham, but only as _loc.u.m tenens_, he having been requested to take charge of it by the patron, Sir Richard Bygrave, who had promised to bestow it on his young relative, d.i.c.k Rushworth, as soon as d.i.c.k was of an age to take orders. The said d.i.c.k Rushworth, however, having lately unexpectedly come into a fortune, had quitted the university, and declined becoming a clergyman; and Sir Reginald, influenced by his wife, had bestowed the living on her cousin, the Reverend Ambrose Lerew, who had graduated at Oxford, and had been for some time a curate in that diocese. He had lately married a lady somewhat older than himself, possessed of a fair fortune, who had been considered a belle during two or three London seasons, but had failed to secure such a matrimonial alliance as she and her friends considered that she ought to make when she first came out. At length, awakening to the fact that her youth was pa.s.sing away and her beauty fading, she had consented to give her hand, and as much of a heart as she possessed, to the fas.h.i.+onable-looking and well-connected young curate, an especial favourite of her friend, Lady Bygrave.

Mr Lennard had held the living longer than he had expected, and to the best of his ability had done his duty to his paris.h.i.+oners. He was a genial, warm-hearted man, of good presence; his manners urbane and courteous; fond of a joke, hospitable and kind, being consequently a favourite with all cla.s.ses. The more wealthy liked him for his pleasant conversation and readiness to enter into all their gaieties and amus.e.m.e.nts, and the poorer for the kind way in which he spoke to them, and the a.s.sistance he afforded on all occasions when they were in distress. He had lost his wife two or three years after he became vicar of Luton-c.u.m-Crosham. She had left two children, his dear little Mary, and a son, Alfred, a tall, pale-faced youth, who was now on board the yacht. The young gentleman had been with a tutor, and was about to go up to Oxford. He was considered very well-behaved; but as he seldom gave expression to his opinions, no one could ascertain much about his character, or how he was likely to turn out. His father always spoke of him as his good boy, who had never given him any trouble, and he fully believed never would cause him a moments' anxiety. His tutor had sent him home with a high character for diligence in his studies, and attention to his religious duties, which consisted in a regular attendance at church and at the morning and evening prayers of the family; and his father was happy in the belief that he would do very well in the world as a clergyman, or at the bar, or in any other profession he might select. Still, Mary was undoubtedly his favourite, and on her he bestowed the full affection of a father's heart. She was indeed a most loveable little creature. Clara was especially fond of her. Mary was so clever and sensible, that she was always a welcome guest at Luton. Besides the persons already mentioned on board the yacht, there was Lieutenant Sims, of the coastguard, with his wife and daughter; a Mrs and Miss Prentiss, the latter young and pretty; Tom Wesby, a friend of Alfred Lennard's, very like him in appearance and manner; and an artist engaged in sketching in the neighbourhood, who had brought a letter of introduction to Captain Maynard.

As the cutter rounded the headland before spoken of, most of the party evinced their admiration of the scenery by expressions of delight, and the artist exhibited his skill by making a faithful sketch in a few minutes. The wind freshening, the cutter made rapid progress towards the bay. Harry had taken the telescope, and was directing it towards the sh.o.r.e.

"Some of our party are there already," he exclaimed; "I see my father and Mr Lennard, and I conclude that the other people must be the new vicar and his wife, from the unmistakable cut of the gentleman's coat, and the lady's irreproachable costume. There are several more, though I cannot exactly make out who they are; I see, however, that the servants are bringing down the baskets of provisions, so we need have no fear of starving."

"I did not expect that they would arrive so soon. The wind has been light, and we have had the tide against us," observed Captain Maynard.

"It will run long enough, however, to take us home again, if you young people are on board in good time. I must trust to you, Harry, to collect all our pa.s.sengers; or, should the wind drop, we may find ourselves drifting down Channel for the best part of the night."

"Oh! that will be capital fun," cried Mrs Sims. "Mary, you'd like it amazingly. We can sit on deck, and look at the stars, and sing songs, and have our tea, and listen to the sailors' yarns--"

"And have the chance of being run down and sunk by one of those big blundering iron steam-kettles," growled the lieutenant, who had the antipathy long felt by old sailors to all the modern innovations, as he considered them, in the navy.

As the cutter glided up towards the sh.o.r.e, the party standing on the beach waved their handkerchiefs, and the ladies on board waved theirs.

The jib was taken in, the foresail hauled down, and the yacht rounding to, the anchor was let drop at a short distance from the beach.

"Haul the boat up alongside, Tom," said Captain Maynard. "Now, Mr Sims, I must get you to take charge of the first party for the sh.o.r.e."

"With the greatest pleasure in the world; I am always at the service of the ladies," answered the lieutenant, bowing round to them, "but my difficulty is to know who is to go first, unless I select by seniority.

Miss Sarah Pemberton, suppose I ask you--age before honesty, you know."

"You do not wish to insult me, Mr Sims?" answered the lady, bridling up.

"Come, come, Sally, Sims never thought of such a thing; he was only joking, or rather, let the words slip out of his mouth without knowing what he was saying," said Captain Maynard.

"I am not fond of joking," replied Miss Sarah; "but if you wish me to go first, I shall be very glad to get on sh.o.r.e, I a.s.sure you."

"Pardon me, madam," said the lieutenant, looking very penitent, and offering his hand. "I wouldn't say a word to ruffle your sensitive feelings, I do a.s.sure you." Miss Pemberton, being appeased, gave her hand to the lieutenant, and though she at first showed some signs of trepidation, stepped without difficulty into the sternsheets of the boat. She was followed by Mrs and Miss Sims.

"Come, young Lennard, you get into the bows, and help to trim the boat,"

said Mr Sims; and shoving off, they pulled for the sh.o.r.e.

The boat soon reached the beach, when Mr Alfred, jumping out, wetted his shoes, greatly to his annoyance, and went running off without stopping to offer his a.s.sistance to the ladies. Some of the rest of the party, however, came down to welcome them, and Mrs and Miss Sims, being, accustomed to boating, having jumped out, the lieutenant was able to aid Miss Pemberton in performing that, to her, hazardous operation.

"Trust to me, my good lady," he said in an encouraging tone; "now step on this thwart--now on the next--now on the gunwale."

"What's that?" asked Miss Pemberton.

"The side of the boat, I should have said," answered the lieutenant.

"Now spring with all the agility you possess." At which the lady gave a bound which nearly overset the gallant officer, and would have ended by bringing her down on the sand, had not General Caulfield caught her in his arms.

"I hope you are not hurt, my dear madam!" he exclaimed.

"I have nearly dislocated my ankle, I believe," answered Miss Pemberton.

"It is the first time I have ventured on board a yacht, and I intend that it shall be the last, with my own good pleasure."

On this the Reverend Mr Lerew stepped forward and expressed his sympathy to Miss Pemberton, offering her his arm to conduct her up to a rock under the cliff, where she could sit and rest her injured foot.

"I feel grieved for you, my dear madam, that what was intended to be a party of pleasure should commence with so untoward an event," he said.

"Do allow my wife to examine your injured ankle--she is all tenderness and sympathy, and a gentle rubbing may perhaps restore it to its wonted elasticity."

"I hope that I shall recover after a little rest, without giving Mrs Lerew the trouble," answered Miss Pemberton, touched with the interest exhibited by the new vicar. "I am deeply grateful to you. But those sea-officers, though well-intentioned, including my poor dear brother-in-law, are dreadfully rough and unmannerly, and have not ceased to alarm and annoy me since I got on board that horrible little vessel, misnamed a pleasure yacht."

"True charity would make me wish to gloss over their faults--though I must confess I agree with you, my dear lady; but we must consider it the result of their early education, or rather, want of education," observed Mr Lerew, in a soft voice; "I fear, too, that their religious training is as defective as their manners--we must, however, use our best endeavours to correct the former, though it may be hopeless to attempt an improvement in the latter--indeed, it is of so infinitely less consequence, that provided we are successful in imparting the true faith, we must rest satisfied."

"Oh, yes, I daresay I do," answered Miss Pemberton, who was thinking more about her ankle than of what Mr Lerew was saying to her; catching one of his words, she added, "but I don't accuse my brother-in-law of being irreligious; I a.s.sure you, he reads prayers every morning as the clock strikes half-past eight, and every evening at ten, with a chapter from the Old and New Testaments, with Ryle's expositions."

"Pray, what prayers does he use?" asked Mr Lerew, in a tone which showed that he considered the matter of great importance.

"He generally uses Bickersteth's prayers," answered Miss Pemberton.

"Sad! sad!" exclaimed Mr Lerew, in a tone of horror, "thus to neglect the Prayer-Book and submit to the teaching of men the most deadly enemies of the catholic faith. Do let me entreat you to beg that he will banish Ryle and Bickersteth from his library, or rather, commit them--I should say their works--to the flames at once, lest they should fall into the hands of other ignorant people."

"I never thought there was any harm in them," answered Miss Pemberton, somewhat astonished at the vehemence with which the new vicar condemned his two brother divines, whom she had hitherto considered sound, trustworthy teachers. "I will mention what you say to my brother-in-law, but I suspect that he will not be easily induced to do as you advise. I know that he considers Canon Ryle a very sensible and pious man, and I have often heard him say that he could understand his writings better than those of any one else he ever met with."

"Blind leaders of the blind," said Mr Lerew. "The pernicious principles of such men are calculated to produce the overthrow of our Holy Church, and to undermine all catholic doctrines."

"Dear me, Mr Lerew, I always thought Ryle and Bickersteth very sound churchmen and firm advocates of the truth," said Miss Pemberton.

"Alas! alas! my dear lady; I fear there are many wolves in sheep's clothing who have long beguiled their flocks by teaching them to rely on their own judgment, instead of seeking for counsel and advice from those pastors who, knowing themselves to be duly appointed from on high to administer the holy sacraments, and grant absolution to humble penitents, feel the importance of their sacred office," replied Mr Lerew.