That Stick | Page 5

to try to hold him to it, you may depend on
it,' said Mrs. Morton; 'but I shall take care he knows what a shame and
disgrace it would be. Oh no; he will not dare.'
'She is awfully old,' said Ida.
'Not near so old as Miss Pottle, who was married yesterday,' said
Constance, who, at the time of her father's death, and at other times
when the presence of a young child was felt to be inconvenient at home,
had stayed with her grandmother at Hurminster, and had grown fond of
Miss Marshall.
'Don't talk about what you know nothing about, Constance,' broke in
her mother. 'Your uncle, Lord Northmoor, ain't going to lower and
demean himself by dragging a mere school teacher up into the peerage,
to cut out poor Herbert and all his family. There's that bell again! I shall
go and let Mrs. Leeson know how we are situated, and that I shall give
her notice one of these days. Clear the table, girls; we don't know who
may be dropping in.'
This done, chiefly by Constance, the sisters put on their hats, and
sallied forth with their astounding news to such of their friends as were
within reach, and by the time they had finished their expedition they
were convinced of their own nobility, and prepared to be called Lady
Ida and Lady Constance Northmoor on the spot.
When they came in they found the parlour being prepared for company,

and were sent to procure sausages and muffins for tea. Mrs. Morton had,
on reflection, decided that it was inexpedient to answer her
brother-in-law till she had ascertained, as she said, her just rights, and
she had invited to tea Mr. and Mrs. Rollstone and, to Constance's
delight, his little daughter Rose, their neighbours a few doors off; but as
Rose was attending classes, it had been useless to go to her before.
Mr. Rollstone was a great authority, for he had spent the best part of his
life in what he termed the first families of the highest circles. He had
been hall boy to a duke, footman to a viscountess, valet to an earl,
butler to a right honourable baronet, M.P., and when he had retired on
the death of the baronet and marriage with the housekeeper he had
brought away a red volume, by name Burke's Peerage, by which, as
well as by his previous knowledge, he was enabled to serve as an oracle
respecting all owners of yachts worthy of consideration. If their names
were not recorded in that book, he scorned them as 'parvenoos,'
however perfect their vessels might be in the eyes of mariners. The
edition was indeed a quarter of a century old, but he had kept it up to
date, by marking in neatly all the births, deaths, and marriages from the
Gazette--his daily study. His daughter, a nice, modest-looking girl of
fourteen, Constance's chief friend, came too.
His wife was detained by her lodgers, but when he rolled in, with the
book under his arm, there was a certain resemblance between himself
and it, for both were broad and slightly dilapidated--the one from gout,
the other from wear, and the red cover had faded into a nondescript
whity-brown, or browny-white, not unlike the complexion of a
close-shaven face. He was carefully arrayed in evening costume, and
was very choice in his language, being, in fact, much grander than all
his aristocratic masters rolled into one; so that though Mrs. Morton
tried to recollect that she was a great lady and he had been a servant,
force of habit made her feel his condescension when he held out his
puffy white hand; and, with a gracious bend of his yellow-gray head,
said, 'Allow me to offer my congratulations, Mrs. Morton. I little
suspected my proximity to a lady so nearly allied to the aristocracy.'
'I am sure you are very kind, Mr. Rollstone. I had no notion--Ida can

tell you I was quite overcome--though when I came to think of it, my
poor, dear Morton always did say he had high connections, but I always
thought it was one of his jokes.'
'Then as I understand, Mrs. Morton, the lamented deceased was junior
to the present Lord Northmoor?'
'Yes, poor dear! Oh, if he had but lived and been eldest, he would have
become his honours ever so much better!'
'And oh, Mr. Rollstone, what are we?' put in Ida breathlessly, while
Rose squeezed Constance's hand in schoolgirl fashion.
'Indeed, Miss Ida, I fear I cannot flatter you with any change in your
designation. If your respected parent had survived he might have
become the Honourable Charles, but only by special grant from Her
Majesty. It was so in the case of the Honourable Frances Fordingham,
when her