letter from him the other day, though, unfortunately, heneglected to date it. He spoke of others which he had written, butwhich I have not received. All I can hope now is that he will writeagain and let me know where he is to be found. Of one thing I amcertain, that when he is found he will be well able to vindicate hischaracter."
Not till a late hour was the counting-house in Idol Lane closed thatday. Further news of importance might arrive, and Stephen Coppinger wasunwilling to risk not being present to receive it. A link boy was inwaiting to light him to his handsome mansion in Broad Street. He hadnot yet retired, as was his custom later in the year, to his rural villaat Twickenham.
Clerks mostly lived in the city. Few, at that time, could enjoy aresidence in the suburbs. Roger Kyffin, however, had a snug littleabode of his own at Hampstead, from and to which he was accustomed towalk every day. In the winter season, however, when it was dark,several friends who lived in the same locality were in the habit ofwaiting for each other in order to afford mutual protection againstfootpads and highwaymen, to whose attacks single pedestrians weregreatly exposed. At one time, indeed, they were accompanied by aregular guard of armed men, so audacious had become the banditti ofLondon.
Roger Kyffin felt more than an ordinary interest in Mr. Coppinger'sgreat-nephew--Harry Tryon--who has been spoken of. He loved him, intruth, as much as if he had been his own son.
When Roger Kyffin was a young man full of ardent aspirations, with nosmall amount of ambition, too, he became acquainted with a beautifulgirl. He loved her, and the more he saw of her, the stronger grew hisattachment. He had been trained for mercantile business, and hadalready attained a good situation in a counting-house. He had thusevery reason to believe, that by perseverance and steadiness, he shouldbe able to realise a competency. He hoped, indeed, to do more thanthis, and that wealth and honours such as others in his position hadattained, he might be destined to enjoy. Fanny Ashton had, from thefirst, treated him as a friend. She could not help liking him. Indeed,possibly, had his modesty not prevented him at that time offering herhis hand, she might have become his wife. At the same time, sheprobably had not asked herself the question as to how far her heart washis. She was all life and spirits, with capacity for enjoyingexistence. By degrees, as she mixed more and more with the gay world,her estimation of the humble clerk altered. She acknowledged hissterling qualities, but the fashionable and brilliant cavaliers she metin society were more according to her taste. An aunt, with whom shewent to reside in London, mixed much in the world. Roger Kyffin, whohad looked upon himself in the light of a permitted suitor, though notan accepted one, naturally called at her aunt's house in the West End.His reception by Fanny was not as cordial as formerly. Her manner afterthis became colder and colder, till at last when he went to her aunt'sdoor he was no longer welcomed. Still his love for Fanny and his faithin her excellencies were not diminished.
"When she comes back to her quiet home she will be as she was before,"he thought to himself, and so, though somewhat sad and disappointed, hewent on hoping that he might win her affection and become her husband.
At length Fanny Ashton returned home. Roger Kyffin, with the eye oflove, observed a great change in her. She was no longer lively andanimated as before. Her cheek was pale, and an anxious expressionpassed constantly over her countenance. She received him kindly, butwith more formality than usual. Still Mr. Kyffin ventured to speak toher. She appreciated his love and devotion, she said, and regretted shecould not give her love in return.
Roger Kyffin did not further press his suit, yet went as frequently tothe house as he could. Several times he had observed a gentleman in theneighbourhood. He was a fashionably-dressed, handsome man. There wassomething, however, in the expression of his countenance which RogerKyffin did not like, for having seen him once, the second time they methe marked him narrowly. What brought him to that neighbourhood? Oneday as he was going towards Mrs. Ashton's house--Fanny's mother was awidow, and she was her only child--he met the stranger coming out of thedoor. He would scarcely have been human had his jealousy not beenaroused. He turned homeward, for he could not bring himself to callthat day. The following evening, however, he went as usual, but greatwas his consternation to find that Fanny had gone to stay with her aunt.His worst fears were realised when, three weeks after this, he heardthat Fanny Ashton had married Major Tryon. He could have borne hisdisappointment better if he could have thought that Fanny had married aman worthy of her.
To conquer his love he felt was impossible. His affection was true andloyal. He would now watch over her and be of service if he could. Hisinquiries as to the character of Major Tryon were thoroughlyunsatisfactory. He was a gay man about town, well known on the turf,and a pretty constant frequenter of "hells" and gambling-houses. He wasthe son of an old general, Sir Harcourt Tryon, and so far of goodfamily. Though a heartless and worthless _roue_, he seemed really tohave fallen in love with Fanny Ashton, and having done his best to winher affections, he had at length resolved, as he called it, to "put hisneck into the noose." Roger Kyffin trembled for Fanny's happiness, notwithout reason. Major Tryon had taken lodgings for her in London.Roger Kyffin discovered where he was residing. Unknown to her, hewatched over her like a guardian angel, a fond father, or a devotedbrother. In a short time her husband took her to the neighbourhood ofLynderton, in Hampshire, where Sir Harcourt and Lady Tryon resided, inthe hopes, probably, that they would take notice of her. He engaged asmall cottage with a pretty little garden in front of it, from which aview of the Solent and the Isle of Wight was obtained. Lady Tryon,however, and she ruled her husband, had greatly disapproved of her son'smarriage with the penniless Fanny Ashton, and consequently refused evento see his young wife.
In a short time Fanny was deserted by her worthless husband. Not manymonths had passed away before she received the announcement of his deathin a duel. That very evening her child Harry was born. She never quiterecovered from the shock she had received. Sad and dreary were theweeks she passed. No one called on her, for though it was known thatMajor Tryon was married, people were not aware that his young widow wasresiding at Sea View Cottage, which, standing at a distance from anyhigh road, few of them ever passed. Her little boy was her greatconsolation. All her affections were centred in him. Her only visitorwas good Dr. Jessop, the chief medical practitioner at Lynderton. Shecalled him in on one occasion when Harry was ill. There was not muchthe matter with the child, but he saw at once that the mother far morerequired his aid. There was a hectic flush on her cheek, a brightnessin her eye, and a short cough which at once alarmed him, and he resolvedto keep Master Harry on the sick list, that he might have a betterexcuse for going over to see the poor young widow.
CHAPTER THREE.
THE HERO'S EARLY DAYS, AND A DESCRIPTION OF A LADY OF QUALITY.
Roger Kyffin heard of Major Tryon's death soon after it occurred. Hewas afraid that Fanny might be left badly off, and he considered how hecould with the greatest delicacy assist her. He would not intrude onher grief, but he thought that he might employ some person in theneighbourhood who would act as agent to take care that she was suppliedwith every comfort.
That evening he was travelling down in the mail coach to Lynderton. Heknew his way to the cottage as well as anybody in the place.
Near it was a little inn, to which he had his carpet bag conveyed. Herehe took up his abode. He felt a satisfaction in being near her, but wasnervous lest by any means she should find out that he was in theneighbourhood. He soon discovered that Dr. Jessop drove by every dayand visited the cottage, and he resolved, therefore, to stop the doctorand introduce himself as a friend of Mrs. Tryon's family. If he foundhim a trustworthy and sensible person, he would employ him as his agentin affording the assistance he wished to render the widow. He saw him,and was satisfied that Dr. Jessop was just the person he hoped to find.
"I have had a long round of visits," said the worthy practitioner, "andwould gladly put up my horse at the inn and ta
lk the matter over withyou."
They were soon seated together in the little parlour allotted to Mr.Kyffin. His wishes were easily explained. "My interesting patientwill, I am sure, feel grateful for the sympathy and assistance of herunknown friend," said the doctor; "but to be frank with you, Mr. Kyffin,I fear she will not enjoy it for many years. I believe that her daysare numbered--"
He stopped suddenly, observing Roger Kyffin's countenance.
"My dear sir," he exclaimed, "I was not aware how deeply I was woundingyou, and yet, my friend, it is better to know the truth. You may yetprove a friend to her boy, and should she be taken away, the poor childwill greatly need one."
It would be difficult to describe the feelings which agitated RogerKyffin's kind heart. He had one consolation. He might, as the doctorsuggested, prove a friend and guardian to the orphan boy. The