ugingly; he held the balance as
to measure his resources. He wished to do justice to his theme. With
the long finger-nails of his left hand nervously playing against the
tinkling crystal of his wineglass and his conscious eyes betraying that,
small and strange as he sat there, he knew himself, to his pleasure and
advantage, remarkably impressive, he dropped into our untutored minds
the sombre legend of his house. "Mr. Clement Searle, from all I gather,
was a young man of great talents but a weak disposition. His mother was
left a widow early in life, with two sons, of whom he was the elder and
the more promising. She educated him with the greatest affection and
care. Of course when he came to manhood she wished him to marry well.
His means were quite sufficient to enable him to overlook the want of
money in his wife; and Mrs. Searle selected a young lady who possessed,
as she conceived, every good gift save a fortune--a fine proud handsome
girl, the daughter of an old friend, an old lover I suspect, of her own.
Clement, however, as it appeared, had either chosen otherwise or was
as yet unprepared to choose. The young lady opened upon him in vain the
battery of her attractions; in vain his mother urged her cause. Clement
remained cold, insensible, inflexible. Mrs. Searle had a character which
appears to have gone out of fashion in my family nowadays; she was a
great manager, a maitresse-femme. A proud passionate imperious woman,
she had had immense cares and ever so many law-suits; they had sharpened
her temper and her will. She suspected that her son's affections had
another object, and this object she began to hate. Irritated by his
stubborn defiance of her wishes she persisted in her purpose. The more
she watched him the more she was convinced he loved in secret. If he
loved in secret of course he loved beneath him. He went about the place
all sombre and sullen and brooding. At last, with the rashness of an
angry woman, she threatened to bring the young lady of her choice--who,
by the way, seems to have been no shrinking blossom--to stay in the
house. A stormy scene was the result. He threatened that if she did
so he would leave the country and sail for America. She probably
disbelieved him; she knew him to be weak, but she overrated his
weakness. At all events the rejected one arrived and Clement Searle
departed. On a dark December day he took ship at Southampton. The two
women, desperate with rage and sorrow, sat alon