Torquay during the vacation, had been sentenced to give up his
profession, and ordered to Madeira, and Genevieve was upon the world
The Kendals claimed her promise of a long visit, or rather that she
should come home, and take time and choice in making any fresh
engagement, nay, that she should not even inquire for a situation
till after Christmas. And after staying to the last moment when she
could help the Rainsforths, she proposed to spend a day or two with
her aunt at the convent, and then come to her friends at Bayford.
Mr. Kendal drove his ladies to fetch her. He had lately indulged the
household with a large comfortable open carriage with two horses, a
rival to Mr. O'More's notable car, where he used to drive in an easy
lounging fashion on one side, with Hyder Ali to balance him on the
This was a grand shopping day, an endless business, and as the autumn
day began to close in, even Mr. Kendal's model patience was nearly
exhausted before they called for their little friend. There was
something very sweet and appropriate in her appearance; her dress,
without presuming to share their mourning, did not insult it by gay
colouring; it was a quiet dark violet and white checked silk, a black
mantle, and black velvet bonnet with a few green leaves to the lilac
flowers, and the face when at rest was softly pensive, but ready to
respond with cheerful smiles and grateful looks. She had become more
English, and had dropped much foreign accent and idiom, but without
losing her characteristic grace and power of disembarrassing those to
whom she spoke, and in a few moments even Sophy had lost all sense of
meeting under awkward or melancholy circumstances, and was talking
eagerly to her dear old sympathizing friend.
There was a great exchange of tidings; Genevieve had much to tell of
her dear Rainsforths, the many vicissitudes of anxiety in which she
had shared, and of the children's ways of taking the parting; and of
the dear little Fanny who seemed to have carried away so large a
piece of her susceptible heart, that Sophy could not help breaking
out, 'Well, I do think it is very hard to make yourself a bit of a
mother's heart, only to have it torn out again.'
Albinia smiled, and said, 'After all, Sophy, happiness in this world
is in such loving, only we don't find it out till the rent has been
'And some people can get fond of anything,' said Sophy.
'I'm sure,' said Genevieve, 'every one is so kind to me I can't help
'I was not blaming you,' said Sophy. 'People are the better for it,
but I cannot like except where I esteem, and that does not often
'Oh! don't you think so?' cried Genevieve.
'I don't mean moderate approval. That may extend far, and with it
good-will, but there is a deep, concentrated feeling which I don't
believe those who like every one can ever have, and that is life.'
Perhaps the deepening twilight favoured the utterance of her
feelings, for, as they were descending a hill, she said, 'Mamma, that
was the place where Maurice was brought back to me.'
She had before passed it in silence, but in the dark she was not
afraid of betraying the expression that the thrill of exquisite
recollection brought to her countenance; and leaning back in her
corner indulged in listening to the narration, as Albinia, unaware of
the special point of the episode, related Maurice's desperate
enterprise, going on to dilate on the benefit of having Mr. O'More at
the bank rather than Andrew Goldsmith.
'Ah!' said Genevieve, 'it is he who wants to pull down our dear old
house. I shall quarrel with him.'
'Genevieve making common cause with the obstructives of Bayford, as
if he had not enemies enough!'
'What's that light in the sky?' exclaimed Sophy, starting up to speak
to her father on the driving seat.
'A bonfire,' said Mr. Kendal. 'If we had remembered that it was the
5th of November, we would not have stayed out so late.' The next
moment he drew up the horses, exclaiming, 'Mr. Hope, will you have a
Mr. Hope, rather to the ladies' surprise, took the vacant place
beside Sophy, instead of climbing up to the box. He had been to see
his intended parish, and was an enviable man, for he was as proud of
it as if it had been an intended wife, and Albinia, who knew it for a
slice of dreary heath, was entertained with his raptures. Church,
schools, and parsonage, each in their way were perfection or at least
promised to be, and he had never been so much elevated or so
communicative. The speechless little curate seemed to have vanished.
The road, as may be remembered, did not run parallel with the curve
of the river, but cutting straight across, entered Bayford over the
hill, passing a small open bit of waste land, where stood a few
cottages, the outskirts of the town.
Suddenly coming from an overshadowed lane upon this common, a glare
of light flashed on them, showing them each other's faces, and
casting the shadow of the carriage into full relief. The horses
shied violently, and they beheld an enormous bonfire raised on a
little knoll about twenty yards in front of them, surrounded by a
dense crowd, making every species of hideous noise.
Mr. Kendal checked the horses' start, and Mr. Hope sprang to their
heads. They were young and scarcely trustworthy, their restless
movements showed alarm, and it was impossible to turn them without
both disturbing the crowd and giving them a fuller view of the object
of their terror. Mr. Kendal came down, and reconnoitring for a
moment, said, 'You had better get out while we try to lead them
round, we will go home by Squash Lane.'
Just then a brilliant glow of white flame, and a tremendous roar of
applause, put the horses in such an agony, that they would have been
too much for Mr. Hope, had not Mr. Kendal started to his assistance,
and a man standing by likewise caught the rein. He was a respectable
carpenter who lived on the heath, and touching his hat as he
recognised them, said, 'Sir, if the ladies would come into my house,
and you too, sir. The people are going on in an odd sort of way, and
Mrs. Kendal would be frightened. I'll take care of the carriage.'
Mr. Kendal went to the side of the carriage, and asked the ladies if
they were alarmed.
'O no!' answered Albinia, 'it is great fun;' and as the horses
fidgeted again, 'it feels like a review.'
'You had better get out,' he said; 'I must try to back the horses
till I can turn them without running over any one. Will you go into
the house? You did not expect to find Bayford so riotous,' he added
with a smile, as he assisted Genevieve out.
'You are not going to get up again,' said Albinia, catching hold of
him, and in her dread of his committing himself to the mercy of the
horses, returning unmeaning thanks to the carpenter's urgent requests
that she would take refuge in his house.
In fact, the scene was new and entertaining, and on the farther side
of the road, sheltered by the carriage, the party were entirely apart
from the throng, which was too much absorbed to notice them, only a
few heads turning at the rattling of the harness, and the ladies were
amused at the bright flame, and the dark figures glancing in and out
of the light, the shouts of delight and the merry faces.
'There's Guy Fawkes,' cried Albinia, as a procession of scarecrows
were home on chairs amid thunders of acclamation; 'but whom have they
besides? Here are some new characters.'
'Most lugubrious looking,' said Genevieve. 'I cannot make out the
'It is the Nabob,' said Mr. Kendal. 'Perhaps you do not know that is
my alias. This is my execution.'
The carpenter implored them to come in, and Mr. Hope added his
entreaties, but Mr. Kendal would not leave the horses, and the ladies
would not leave him; and they all stood still while his effigy was
paraded round the knoll, the mark of every squib, the object of every
invective that the rabble could roar out at the top of their voices.
Jesuits and Papists; Englishmen treated like blackamoor slaves in the
Indies; honest folk driven out of house and home; such was the
burthen of the cries that assailed the grim representative carried
aloft, while the real man stood unmoved as a statue, his tall,
powerful figure unstirred, his long driving-whip resting against his
shoulder without betraying the slightest motion, neither firm lip nor
steady eye changing. Genevieve, with tears in her eyes, exclaimed,
'Oh! this is madness! Will no one tell them how wicked they are?'
'Never mind, my dear,' said Mr. Kendal, pressing the hand that in her
fervour she had laid on his arm, 'they will come to their senses in
time. No, Mr. Hope, I beg you will not interfere, they are in no
state for it; they have done no harm as yet.'
'I wonder what the police are about?' cried Albinia, indignantly.
'They are too few to do any good,' said Mr. Kendal. 'It may be
better that they are not incensing the mob. It will all go off
quietly when this explosion has relieved their feelings.'
They felt as if there were something grand in this perfectly
dispassionate reception of the outrage, and they stood awed and
silenced, Sophy leaning on him.
'It will soon be over now,' he said, 'they are poking up the name to
'Hark! what's that?'
The mob came swaying back, and a rich voice swelled above all the
din, 'Boys, boys, is it burning your friends you are? Then, for the
first time, Mr. Kendal started, and muttered, 'foolish lad! is he
Confused cries rose again, but the other voice gained the mastery.
'So you call that undertaker-looking figure there Mr. Kendal. Small
credit to your taste. You want to burn him. What for?'
'For being a Nabob and a tyrant,' was the shout.
'Much you know of Nabobs! No; I'll tell you what it's for. It is
because his son got his death fighting for his queen and his country
a year ago, and on his death-bed bade him do his best to drive the
fever from your doors, and shelter you and save you from the Union in
your old age. Is that a thing to burn him for?'
'We want no Irish papists here!' shouted a blackguard voice.
'Serve him with the same sauce.'
'I never was a papist,' was the indignant reply. 'No more was he;
but I've said that the place shan't disgrace itself, and - '
'I'm with you,' shouted another above all the howls of the mob.
'Gilbert Kendal was as kind-hearted a chap as ever lived, and I'll
see no wrong done to his father.'
Tremendous uproar ensued; then the well-known tones pealed out again,
'I've given my word to save his likeness. Come on, boys. Hurrah for
The war-cry was echoed by a body of voices, there was a furious melee
and a charge towards the Nabob, who rocked and toppled down, while
stragglers came pressed backwards on all sides.
'Here, Hope, take care of them. Stay with them,' said Mr. Kendal,
putting the whip into the curate's hand, and striding towards the
nucleus of the fray, through the throng who were driven backwards.
'O'More,' he called, 'what's all this? Give over! Are you mad?' and
then catching up, and setting on his legs, a little fallen boy, 'Go
home; get out of all this mischief. What are you doing? Take home
that child,' to a gaping girl with a baby. 'O'More, I say, I'll
commit every man of you if you don't give over.'
He was recognised, and those who had little appetite for the skirmish
gave back from him; but the more reckless and daring small fry began
shrieking, 'The Nabob!' and letting off crackers and squibs, through
which he advanced upon the knot of positive combatants, who were
exchanging blows over his prostrate image in front of the fire.
One he caught by the collar, in the act of aiming a blow. The fist
was instantly levelled at him, with the cry, 'You rascal! what do you
mean by it?' But the fierce struggle failed to shake off the
powerful grasp; and at the command, 'Don't be such a fool!' Ulick
burst out, 'Murder! 'tis himself!' and in the surprise was dragged
some paces before recovering his perceptions.
The cry of police had at the same instant produced a universal
scattering, and five policemen, coming on the ground, found scarcely
any one to separate or capture. Mr. Kendal relaxed his hold, saying,
'You are my prisoner.'
'I didn't think you'd been so strong,' said Ulick, shaking himself,
and looking bewildered. 'Where's the effigy?'
'What's that to you. Come away, like a rational being.'
'Ha! what's that?' as a frightful, agonizing shriek rent the air, and
a pillar of flame came rushing across the now open space. It was a
child, one mass of fire, and flying, in its anguish, from all who
would have seized it. One moment of horror, and it had vanished!
The next, Genevieve's voice was heard crying, 'Bring me something
more to press on it.' She had contrived to cross its path with her
large carriage rug, and was kneeling over it, forcing down the rug to
smother the flames. Mr. Hope brought her a shawl, and they all stood
round in silent awe.
'The poor child will be stifled,' said Albinia, kneeling down to help
to unfold its face.
Poor little face, distorted with terror and agony! One of the
policemen recognised it as the child of the public-house in Tibb's
Alley. There were moans, but no one dared to uncover the limbs; and
the policeman and Mr. Hope proposed carrying it at once to Mr.
Bowles, and then home. Mr. Kendal desired that it should be laid on
the seat of the carriage, which he would drive gently to the
doctor's. Genevieve got in to watch over the poor little boy, and
the others walked on by the side, passed the battle-field, now
entirely deserted, too much shocked for aught but conjectures on his
injuries, and the cause of the misfortune. Either he must have been
pushed in on the fire by the runaway rabble, or have trod upon some
of the scattered combustibles.
Mr. Bowles desired that the child should be taken home at once,
promising to follow instantly; so at the entrance of Tibb's Alley,
the carriage stopped, and Mr. Hope lifted out the poor little wailing
bundle. Albinia was following, but a decided prohibition from her
husband checked her. 'I would not have either of you go to that
house on any account. Tell them to send to us for whatever they
want, but that is enough.'
There was no gainsaying such a command, but as they reached the door
of Willow Lawn, Mr. Kendal exclaimed, 'Where is Miss Durant?'
'She is gone with the little boy,' said Sophy. 'She told me she
hoped you would not be displeased. Mr. Hope will take care of her,
and she will soon come in.'
'Every one is mad to-night!' cried Mr. Kendal. 'In such a place as
that! I will go for her directly.'
'Pray don't,' said Albinia, 'no one could speak a rude word to her on
such an errand. She and Mr. Hope will be much more secure from
incivility without you.'
'I believe it may be so, but I wish - '
His wish was broken off, for his little Albinia, screaming, 'Papa!
papa!' clung to him in a transport of caresses, which Maurice
explained by saying, 'Little Awkey has been crying, mamma, she
thought they were burning papa in the bonnie.'
'Papa not burnt!' cried little Awkey, patting his cheeks, and laying
her head on his shoulders alternately, as he held her to his breast.
'Naughty people wanted to make a fire, but they sha'n't burn papa or
poor Guy Fawkes, or any of the good men.'
'And where were you, Ulick?' cried Maurice, in an imperious, injured
way. 'You said once, perhaps you would take me to see the fire; and
I went up to the bank, and they said you were gone, and it was
glaring so in the sky, and I did so want to go.'
'I am glad you stayed away, my man,' said Albinia.
'I did want to go,' said Maurice; 'and I ran up to the top of the
street, and there was Mr. Tritton; and he said if I liked a lark, he
would take care of me; but - ' and there he stopped short, and the
colour came into his face.
Albinia threw her arm round him, and kissed him, saying, 'My trusty
boy! and so you came home?'
'Yes; and there was Awkey crying about their burning papa, and she
would not go up to the garret-window to see the fire, nor do
'Why, what is the sword here for?' exclaimed Sophy, finding it on the
'Because then Awkey was not so afraid.'
For once, Maurice had been exemplary, keeping from the tempting
uproar, and devoting himself to soothing his little sister. It was
worth all the vexations of the evening; but he went on to ask if
Ulick could not take him now, if the fire was not out yet,
'Not exactly,' said Mr. Kendal, drily.
'I beg your pardon, Mr. Kendal,' said Ulick, who had apparently only
just resumed the use of speech; 'don't know what I may have done when
you collared me, but I'd no more notion of its being you than the
'And pray what took you there?' asked Mr. Kendal. 'The surprise was
quite as great to me.'
'Why,' said Ulick, 'one of the little lads of my Sunday class gave me
a hint the other day that those brutes meant to have a pretty go to-night,
and that Jackson was getting up a figure of the Nabob to break
their spite upon. So I told my little fellow to give a hint to a few
more of the right sort, and we'd go up together and not let the
rascals have their own way.'
'Upon my word, I wonder what the Vicar will say to the use you make
of his Sunday-school. Pretty work for his model teacher.'
'What better could the boys be taught than to fight for the good
cause? Why, no one is a scratch the worse for it. And do you think
we could sit by and see our best friend used worse than a dog?'
'Why not give notice to the police?'
'And would you have me hinder a fight?' cried Ulick, in the most
Irish of all his voices.
'Oh! very well, if you like - only there will be a run on the bank
'What has Ulick been doing, Sophy?' asked Maurice.
'Only what you would have done had you been older, Maurice,' she
said, in a hurt voice; 'defending papa's effigy, for which he does
not seem to meet with much gratitude.'
'Well,' said Mr. Kendal, who all the time had had more gratitude in
his eyes than on his tongue, 'if the burning had had the same
consequence as melting one's waxen effigy was thought to have, it
might have been worth while to interfere, but I should have thought
it more dignified in a respectable substantial householder to let
those foolish fellows have their swing.'
'More dignified maybe,' smiled Albinia, 'but less like an O'More.'
'No, you are not going,' said Mr. Kendal; 'I shall not release my
prisoner just yet.'
'You carried off all the honour of the day,' said Ulick. 'I had no
notion you had such an arm. Why, you swung me round like a tom-cat,
or - ' and he exemplified the exploit upon Maurice, and was well
'That's a little Irish blarney to propitiate me,' laughed Mr. Kendal,
who certainly was in unusual spirits after his execution and rescue
by proxy, but you wont escape prison fare.'
'There's no doubt who was the heroine of the day,' added Sophy. 'How
one envies her!'
'What! your little governess friend?' said Ulick. 'Yes; she did show
superior wit, when the rest of the world stood gaping round.'
'It was admirable - just like Genevieve's tenderness and dexterity,'
said Albinia. 'I dare say she is doing everything for the poor
'Yes, admirable,' said Mr. Kendal; 'but you all behaved very
'Ay,' said Albinia; 'not to scream is what a man thinks the climax of
excellence in a woman.'
'It is generally all that is required,' said Mr. Kendal. I don't
know what I should have done if poor Lucy had been there.'
Thereupon the ladies went upstairs, Maurice following Sophy to
extract a full account of the skirmish. The imp probably had an
instinct that she would think more of what redounded to Ulick
O'More's glory than of what would be edifying to his own infant mind.
It was doubtful how long it would be before Guy Fawkes would arrive
at his proper standing in the little Awk's opinion, after the honour
of an auto-da-fe in company with papa.
Mr. Hope escorted Genevieve home, and was kept to dinner. They
narrated that they had found the public-house open, and the bar full
of noisy runaways.
The burns were dreadful, but the surgeon did not think they would be
fatal, and the child had held Genevieve's hand throughout the
dressing, and seemed so unwilling to part with her, that she had
promised to come again the next day, and had been thanked gratefully.
There seemed no positive want of comforts, and there was every hope
that all would do well.
Genevieve looked pale after the scene she had gone through, and could
not readily persuade herself to eat, still less rally her spirits to
talk; but she managed to avoid observation at dinner-time, and
afterwards a rest on the sofa restored her. She evidently felt, as
she said, that this was coming home, and her exquisite gift of tact
making her perceive that she was to be at ease and on an equality,
she assumed her position without giving her friends the embarrassment
of installing her, and Mr. Hope was in such a state of transparent
admiration, that Albinia could not help two or three times
noiselessly clapping her hands under the table, and secretly thanking
the rioters and their tag-rag and bob-tail for having provided a home
for little Genevieve Durant.
There was indeed a pang as she thought of Gilbert; but she believed
that Genevieve's heart had never been really touched, and was still
fresh and open. She thought she might make Mr. Kendal and Sophy
equally magnanimous. Perhaps by that time Sophy would be too happy
to have leisure to be hurt, and she had little fear but that Mr.
Kendal's good sense would conquer his jealousy for his son, though it
might cost him something.
Two lovers to befriend at once! Two desirable attachments to foster!
There was glory! Not that Albinia fulfilled her mission to a great
extent; shamefacedness always restrained her, and she had not Emily's
gift for making opportunities. Indeed, when she did her best, so
perversely bashful were the parties, that the wrong pairs resorted
together, the two who could talk being driven into conversation by
the silence of the others.
Of Mr. Hope's sentiments there could be no doubt. He was fairly
carried off his feet by the absorption of the passion, which was
doubly engrossing because all ladies had hitherto appeared to him as
beings with whom conversation was an impossible duty; but after all
he had heard of Miss Durant, he might as a judicious man select her
for an excellent parsoness, and as a young man fall vehemently in
love. Nothing could be more evident to the lookers-on, but Albinia
could not satisfy herself whether Genevieve had any suspicion.
She was not very young, knew something of the world, and was acute
and observing; but on the other hand, she had made it a principle
never to admit the thought of courtship, and she might not be
sufficiently acquainted with the habits of the individual to be
sensible of the symptomatic alteration.
She had begged the Dusautoys to make her leisure profitable, and
spent much of her time upon the schools, on her little patient in
Tibb's Alley, and in going about among the poor; she visited her old
shopkeeper friends, and drank tea with them much oftener than
gratified Mr. Kendal, talking so openly of the pleasure of seeing
them again, that Albinia sometimes thought the blood of the O'Mores
was a little chafed.
'There,' said Genevieve, completing a housewife, filled with needles
ready threaded, 'I wonder whether the omnibus is too protestant to
leave a parcel at the convent?'
'I don't think its scruples of conscience would withstand sixpence,'
'You might post it for less than that,' said Sophy.
'Don't you know,' said Ulick O'More, who was playing with the little
Awk in the window, 'that the feminine mind loves expedients? It
would be less commonplace to confide the parcel to the conductor,
than merely let him receive it as guard of the mail bag and servant
of the public.'
'Exactly,' laughed Genevieve. 'Think of the moral influence of being
selected as bearer of a token of tenderness to my aunt on her fete,
instead of being treated as a mere machine, devoid of human
'Sophy, where were we reading of a nation which gives the simplest
transaction the air of a little romance?' said Ulick.
'And I have heard of a nation which denudes every action of
sentiment, and leaves you the tree without the leaves,' was
'That misses fire, Miss Durant; my nation does everything by the