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 10, 1863.] and on certain days they were free to the public. On these occasions, I remember that there always seemed to exist a wish on the part of the household to keep me from mixing, as my boyish curiosity prompted, with the groups of casual sight seers.

There were other visitors, however, from whom it was impossible to seclude me. The gentry of the shire paid formal visits at the Priors, and then alone did I see strangers of my own rank, for I never accompanied my mother in her rare drives to return these attentions, and no hospitalities were exchanged. How well I recollect the drawing-room, with its store of guests, the artificial intercourse, my mother’s efforts at lively converse, and the cold caresses which the high-born matrons of the county aristocracy were wont to bestow on me—the lonely child.

Sometimes the visitors brought children with them, and then I bitterly felt my isolation. The little boys and girls held aloof from me, gazed at me fearfully, despite the polite encouragement of their mammas, and I could read in their wondering eyes that they knew I was not a fit playmate for them, not one of themselves. It may seem surprising that I did not speak out respecting the weight on my heart, that I did not question the domestics, or even boldly inquire of my mother what it was that severed the Sherringhams from the rest of mankind. But to this I was averse; I shrank from avowing that I perceived myself to be an object, if not of suspicion, at least of peculiar care. It was not for me to cause scandal or to bring on explanations which could not be of a pleasant kind. Besides, distrust is apt to be contagious. I was never quite open and frank with my mother, because of the restraint in her manner towards myself.

Thus I grew up, more alone than if I had been a dweller in the wilderness, a melancholy, large-eyed boy, with a face of the sickly character which premature thought imparts. My health was not good, nor my disposition amiable, but I was a quick learner, and had a power of commanding my temper which is rare in the young. I became taciturn, vindictive, and very proud, but with a hidden pride quite unlike the usual arrogance of conceited children. Altogether, I was very selfish, and in a fair way to become a hater of my species, when an illness, during which my mother nursed me with untiring assiduity, brought about a change in my life. The family physician, old Dr. West, shook his head very seriously during my convalescence, as he marked how wan and thin were my face and hands, as well as the unnatural size and lustre of my eyes.

“He’s moped to death here, my lady,” said the old man, as he adjusted his spectacles on his nose; “send him to Eton, ma’am; send him to Eton!”

And to Eton I went.

Five years at Eton did wonders for me. In the merry, active boy of the playing fields, always at cricket, boating, or football, you would never have recognised the pining recluse of Sherringham Priors. The bustle, the cares and interests of the great school, the healthful companionship, above all, with youthful and frank natures, took me out of my track of gloomy egotism. I was a little teased and tormented at first on account of my solitary habits and dark looks, but, to my great joy, I found myself treated as an equal, as a responsible person, for the first time. I had been apt, at home, to fancy myself a monster cut off from humanity: at school, I soon found myself one of the many.

No one had ever heard of the Sherringhams and their peculiarities. No one watched me; no one humoured me. I received praise or blame when I merited either, and I declare in all sincerity, that at first one was as sweet to my ears as the other. I wish to pass lightly over this, the pleasantest time of my life. The holidays were not to me the pleasant treat which they were to my schoolfellows. I did not like going back to the Priors; but there was no help for it. And yet, after a time there arose a new sense of satisfaction in these visits to the home of my childhood. People began to treat me differently from the old artificial system. My altered bearing, more decided, more cheerful, and more boyish, produced its effect. The servants seemed to lose their awe of me. The gamekeeper ventured to crack a joke at my misses when he taught me to shoot; and the gardener begged Sir Wilfred not to damage certain shrubs, because Lady Sherringham was fond of them, just as he would have spoken to any other master of twelve years old. Even my mother began to be less constrained with me, and the old look of watchfulness was but seldom to be noted in her eyes.

I left Eton a tall and blooming youth, having entered it a sickly child. After a year or two at a tutor’s in Gloucestershire, I went to Oxford, where I wore my velvet cap for the usual number of terms, and took my “ordinary” degree in the usual fashion. I had no need to toil for Double Firsts and college prizes. I was Sir Wilfred Sherringham, master of a noble property. And yet, how often have I envied the poor servitors and Bible clerks, the red-fisted sons of Cumberland curates, to whom I may often have been in turn an object of envy. The snake was scotched, but not killed. I was improved, but still a Sherringham, and I knew now that with our ancient blood went an Heirloom—never mind what! No one had told me the truth: I was left to puzzle it out for myself. There was that in my ancestry which set their descendant apart from the rest of the world. We had a good old name, great alliances to boast of, ample means, but there was a canker in the flower. It was a subject I did not love to think of, yet I thought of it. I often fancied, too, that others were thinking of it, speaking of it, sneering about it. And it stung me as an adder’s tooth: still, I was not unhappy, not unpopular.

Soon after I took my degree, my mother died. There had always been reserve and mistrust between us, and yet we loved one another. My tears—not easily drawn forth, for mine is a stubborn nature—fell like rain upon the wasted hand she stretched towards me as I hurried to her bed-side, and she smiled with a fond, wan smile, and seemed to forget her former terror of me. And yet—she lingered for two days after my arrival—I saw it in her eyes on the very morning