Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 128.djvu/692

682 fact that he was well off, but whether he was a clergyman, or a country squire, or a London business man, Yorke had no idea. And "The Beeches, Hamwell," might designate a "semi-detached villa residence" in a suburban terrace equally with a venerable country-house. The name was no clue to the nature of the place.

The train gradually disgorged its passengers at the different stations, who alighted for the most part bearing little baskets of fish or game, till at last the Hamwell station was called; and Yorke, getting out with some half-dozen other passengers, was received by a servant in smart livery, who took his luggage. A handsome close carriage was waiting outside for himself, also a spring-cart and horse for his portmanteau; his host was therefore evidently well-to-do; and this attention to the stranger indicated a hospitable spirit. It was too dark to make out the scenery; but the road evidently made a considerable ascent; and after the traveller had passed through the gates of an entrance lodge, the while trunks of an extensive avenue of ancient beeches which could be seen on either side of the drive, indicated that the house at the end of it was rightly entitled to its name. Clearly "The Beeches" was not a semi-detached villa. On the carriage pulling up at the door, a flood of light burst on it from the cheerful outer hall which now came into view; this opened on an inner hall, thick-carpeted, and garnished with statuary, armour, and ancient cabinets, and from which the outer air was carefully excluded; and Yorke issuing therefrom into a dimly lighted sitting-room, had some difficulty at first in distinguishing the different members of the little group sitting round the fire, who rose on his entrance in a somewhat confused and hazy way, suggestive of their having been disturbed in an ante-dinner nap. However, on collecting their senses, the inmates showed no want of heartiness of greeting — Mr. Peevor, who was of the party, coming forward to shake him cordially yet somewhat deferentially by the hand, and introducing him in turn to his wife, his eldest daughter Maria, his second daughter Catherine, and his youngest daughter Lucy, who was sitting in the corner at work, the only one of the party employed on any occupation.

A servant now bringing in lights, the visitor was able to obtain a view of the family. Mr. Peevor was a good-looking, well-preserved man, with grey and white whiskers and a fidgety manner, who might be between fifty and sixty. His wife was a tall, handsome woman, bearing a strong likeness to her late brother, but with a certain languor of manner in marked contrast to his active, vigorous ways. Mrs. Peevor was evidently too young to be the mother of her husband's three grown-up daughters, who, moreover, bore no resemblance to her; and Yorke guessed rightly that they must be the children of a former marriage. Miss Peevor was no longer young, and looked older than she was, wearing an air of ill-health and depression; and Yorke instinctively judged that her part in the drama of a young lady's life was already played out. Miss Catherine was fair and pale with light hair, neither plain nor pretty in face, but with a neat, slight figure; she was evidently short-sighted, and the habit of wearing an eyeglass screwed into one eye did not improve her appearance. Miss Lucy, on the other hand, also slight and neat in figure, was a little brunette, with pretty face, and bright dark eyes indicative of humour; but Yorke had not time to notice this particularly on the present occasion, as she still sat apart from the rest listening to the conversation, of which the burden for the most part was borne by Mr. Peevor, who was full of expressions of gratification at their guest's arrival, and his kindness in coming to see them. He apologized more than once for not having gone to the station himself to meet him, on the score of a slight cold, but he hoped the coachman had been punctual, and Rundall the footman ready awaiting him on the platform. "I ordered him particularly," said Mr. Peevor, "to be there well before the time — a good ten minutes, I said — to make sure, so that you might not be kept waiting a moment; one is so apt to catch cold these chilly evenings waiting on the platform;" and Yorke was assuring him for the second time that Rundall had executed the order faithfully — regardless (he could not help thinking) of the risk incurred by himself of catching that dangerous complaint — when conversation was suspended by the sound of the dinner dressing-bell; whereupon the party rose, and the host conducted him to his bedroom.

"We are treating you quite without ceremony, you see," said Mr. Peevor, by way of apologizing for the accommodation; "the great friend of my wife's poor brother is of course a friend of ourselves; but you military men can put up with simple ways on a pinch, I have no doubt. We have asked no one to meet you tonight, but there will be a few friends to-