The People of the Mist | Page 3

enormously
rich. I expect there will be plenty going on at Outram soon. By the way,
my dear Ida, I do wish you would cure yourself of the habit of calling
young men by their Christian names--not that it matters about these two,
for we shall never see any more of them."
"I am sure I hope that we shall," said Ida defiantly, "and when we do I
shall call them by their Christian names as much as ever. You never
objected to it before the smash, and I love both of them, so there! Why
did you bring me to that horrid sale? You know I did not want to go. I
shall be wretched for a week, I----" and the carriage swept on out of
hearing.

Leonard emerged from the shadow of the gateway and crossed the road
swiftly. On the further side of it he paused, and looking after the
retreating carriage said aloud, "God bless you for your kind heart, Ida
Hatherley. Good luck go with you! And now for the other business."
A hundred yards or so down the road, was a second gate of much less
imposing appearance than those which led to the Outram Hall. Leonard
passed through it and presently found himself at the door of a square
red brick house, built with no other pretensions than to those of comfort.
This was the Rectory, now tenanted by the Reverend and Honourable
James Beach, to whom the living had been presented many years
before by Leonard's father, Mr. Beach's old college friend.
Leonard rang the bell, and as its distant clamour fell upon his ears a
new fear struck him. What sort of reception would he meet with in this
house? he wondered. Hitherto his welcome had always been so cordial
that until this moment he had never doubted of it, but now
circumstances were changed. He was no longer in the position of
second son to Sir Thomas Outram of Outram Hall. He was a beggar, an
outcast, a wanderer, the son of a fraudulent bankrupt and suicide. The
careless words of the woman in the carriage had let a flood of light into
his mind, and by it he saw many things which he had never seen before.
Now he remembered a little motto that he had often heard, but the full
force of which he did not appreciate until to-day. "Friends follow
fortune," was the wording of this motto. He remembered also another
saying that had frequently been read to him in church and elsewhere,
and the origin of which precluded all doubt as to its truth:--
"Unto every one that hath shall be given, but from him that hath not
shall be taken away even that which he hath."
Now, as it chanced, Leonard, beggared as he was, had still something
left which could be taken away from him, and that something the
richest fortune which Providence can give to any man in his youth, the
love of a woman whom he also loved. The Reverend and Honourable
James Beach was blessed with a daughter, Jane by name, who had the
reputation, not undeserved, of being the most beautiful and sweetest-
natured girl that the country-side could show. Now, being dark and fair

respectively and having lived in close association since childhood,
Leonard and Jane, as might be expected from the working of the laws
of natural economy, had gravitated towards each other with increasing
speed ever since they had come to understand the possibilities of the
institution of marriage. In the end thus mutual gravitation led to a shock
and confusion of individualities which was not without its charm; or, to
put the matter more plainly, Leonard proposed to Jane and had been
accepted with many blushes and some tears and kisses.
It was a common little romance enough, but, like everything else with
which youth and love are concerned, it had its elements of beauty. Such
affairs gain much from being the first in the series. Who is there among
us that does not adore his first love and his first poem? And yet when
we see them twenty years after!
Presently the Rectory door was opened and Leonard entered. At this
moment it occurred to him that he did not quite know why he had come.
To be altogether accurate, he knew why he had come well enough. It
was to see Jane, and arrive at an understanding with her father. Perhaps
it may be well to explain that his engagement to that young lady was of
the suppressed order. Her parents had no wish to suppress it, indeed;
for though Leonard was a younger son, it was well known that he was
destined to inherit his mother's fortune of fifty thousand pounds more
or less. Besides,