CHAP. LVIII, DARLISTON. AFFAIRS DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN. I like as far as I can to keep my diary with regularity when I undertake one, but there must be times and occasions very subversive of such good intention. It was impossible to me to "stick to my journal course" from the day we lost Helen; and though I was at some pains, after her safety was assured, to note down the days' occurrences and occasional conversations held, the whole was in a state of confusion, which took me two months to reduce to decent order. During part of that time I was obliged, from slight indisposition, to keep at home; and the Occupation suited me well. Then an event occurred of such surpassing interest to me, that expecting, as I did, soon to see my husband, it did not appear desirable to chronicle other comparatively trifling incidents. However, as when Helen left for Paris with her husband, there were some matters of anxiety yet on my mind, I will now speak further concerning them, or let my friends speak by extracting from their letters passages touching on those special matters. Having done this, and said a few words about the event I have referred to, I purpose a cessation of my diary for a time indefinite. It seems that my hands are likely to be sufficiently full without it. Dr. Crutchley was very angry with his patient for his concealment of the injury received on the night of Helen's abduction, and threatened him with terrible consequences; but the knowledge obtained was not too late, and under the right treatment, Grant Wainwright was able in less than a week to walk up and down my garden. Watch was his ordinary companion on these occasions. By the end of the month he was well enough to leave me for a small place on the coast of North Wales, whither his sister, Mrs. Collingwood, had gone purposely to meet and spend a fortnight with him. After this he returned to the Rood Farm. Most days he rode over to see me; but not on Grey Randal. It was a relief to me to hear, through Mrs. Cargill, that Mr. George Wainwright had taken this once favourite horse away with him. I had heard Grant speak of shooting him. I had some correspondence with Mrs. Collingwood about her brother. Her anxiety about his health was great, and not uncalled for. She agreed with me it was well he showed no disposition to resort to his former ill-chosen acquaintance, and ceased from interest in many of his former amusements; but with such sad food for meditation and no solace from companionship, it seemed too probable that his health must continue to suffer. The unfortunate part he had played had so clouded his reputation, and he had so sensitive a pride on the subject, that it was not likely he should form new friendships in our neighbourhood. I suggested the idea of his making a voyage out and home with my husband. Grant did not immediately take to the notion, but his sister caught at it, urged it upon him. She wrote to her father to make matters easier to him, and after having further talk with me, and receiving assurance that my dear captain was not likely to had done, Grant entertained my idea. see matters with more severe judgment than I It was something to look forward to, to conjecture about; and this was a positive advantage to begin with. While I was kept in-doors I had many kind visitors; but chiefly Alice and Mrs. Cargill would come and sit with me and tell me their fitted up expressly for her in lieu of the little news. Nanny was very proud at having a room blue room, which was required in the scheme of improvement then progressing. Helen had made respect for vested interests an excuse for furnishing her faithful friend's new apartment in a very superior, though appropriate manner. "Law, ma'am," Nanny said, "I wish you would get well and come over and see it, there's a'most everything in it I ever wished for in my life. The dear child used to say when I'd a mind to grumble that things wasn't now made to last, Never mind, Nanny; when I'm rich you shall have everything substantial about you;' and sure enough there isn't a sham in the room." Alice appears quite contented to remain at Darliston. She says Mr. Wainwright is a very light charge, but it is certain that her patience and sweetness of disposition tend to make him such to her. He can walk about the house, but seldom goes downstairs, except when about to enjoy a drive in the gig. An attempt was made K to induce him to enter a lower chaise bought | good place among men and an ample share of for the purpose, but he insisted on the gig. He once made inquiry as to the strange men working in the house. Alice told him they were preparing a room for Mr. Merton Brown to sleep in when he came again, and he expressed approval. This is in fact the case; for the room Grant occupied during his illness has been converted into a very comfortable bedchamber; the blue room and the "house," or hall adjoining, thoroughly renovated and furnished, are, Nanny says, "completely transmogrified;" and with Mr. Mainwaring's books, and some quaint ornaments (forwarded from Oxford after Merton's return thither), have much the appearance of a library and boudoir. Alice declares she always was so fond of letters, and now is made quite wealthy in that respect. Merton-but if I speak of Merton I shall have to tell a longer tale than I now have time for. Helen writes, having of course much to say and many inquiries to make concerning matters connected with the old home. Notes or visits from Cedar Lawn are of daily occurrence, and Alice tells me they make so much of her when she does go home, that really it seems in some sort a selfish advantage to be dwelling at Darliston. Of course I have carefully preserved all the newspaper accounts of the trials of Cornelius Carlton, alias Witham, and others of my acquaintance; and therefore may spare myself the detail of the many affairs in which they have been proved to be implicated. The fact of their being proved guilty in so many more serious cases precluded the necessity of the attempt upon Helen being brought to trial. This we were all best pleased should be so. The whole circumstances being so connected with the capture of the band are now sufficiently known to the public without the excitement and personal annoyance she might have been subjected to had her presence in a witness-box been necessary. On Grant's account this is yet more gratifying, since the trial must have brought forward the important part he played. As it is, all that were immediately concerned, have been silent from fear of making their own cases worse; and though Benson's confession has shown that Witham intended to make a cat's-paw of the heiress's headstrong lover, no positive allegation involved him as a principal. Helen's published statement tells that a person, she had good reason to believe totally ignorant of Witham's design, had, in a mistake, been the means of placing her in the hands of Malone. Of course the whole truth is actually very well known; but Grant's written confession remains "in confidence," and I have good hope nothing further will transpire tending to make its production necessary. Looking at the question merely from a worldly point of view, it makes me wonder to think of the perverse madness of Witham. The single misfortune attending his birth, compensated as it was by so many counter-advantages, need never have stood in the way of his obtaining a life's enjoyments. Gently nurtured, well educated, with perfect health and a favourable exterior, he had also talent enough to have promised success in almost any vocation, and tact enough to make himself generally acceptable. He wanted nothing but a little honest principle to have guided him. But he could not see the necessity for that, and at three-and-thirty he is doomed to a life of penal servitude. Will Harper and Nanny are perfectly agreed that Sandy Maclean was the "tall man" observed by them among the burglars at Darliston, and as he has been proved to be concerned with Benson in another robbery, it is very probable they are right. The woman supposed to be his wife it is conjectured must have left the "Chaffinch" soon alter Helen was taken on shore, as she was not with the men when the police came upon them. Mary Granger, or Kirby, has found a benefactress in Mr. Devonshire's mother; who has taken her into her house with the intention that she shall learn the duties of a general servant; after which, if her conduct is correct, she is to be sent out to a family of the lady's friends in Australia. It will be good news to the Captain that giving ready access to Harby Hall to those Paris, giving account of the many places she |