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310 a way as to make the whole family very proud and hopeful of him and his cause. Sir Oliver himself wavered in his wishes when nephew St. John’s law and eloquence were extolled by visitors and in letters, consoling himself beforehand in his own way for whatever might be the result. If His Majesty gained the cause, it would be a glorious thing; and John Hampden would be no worse in the end. He would lose some money; and he might be under a bar and bolt for a time, which would be the proper reward of his wilfulness: but he was too much of a gentleman to be personally ill-treated for a matter of twenty shillings. If John Hampden should win, no matter, if gentlemen would but treat such a decision with the contempt it deserved. That the King would do so there could be no doubt. He must have money; and he would take it in his own royal way, whatever St. John and the Judges might say. As for St. John, he was a made man. It did not follow that his politics were wrong because he spoke on the other side. A lawyer must speak on the side which engages him; and next time, he would be more eloquent still, because he would have a better cause.

Sir Oliver would not be satisfied without hearing whatever Henrietta would tell him of her father’s letters to her; and Henrietta was as ready to read as her old uncle to hear. Her heart overflowed with love and gratitude to her father, whose thoughts were so much with her that he passed no one day of the trial without writing at least a few words to her. He suffered almost as she did under her trouble; and he felt that no duty could intercept that of supporting his motherless child under the frustration of her intended marriage. When Henrietta had read her uncle what she could out of those precious sheets which arrived almost daily, he swore that it was a thousand pities that a gentleman who had so loyal a heart should have let any Puritan scoundrels make a tool of him in the sight of all England; and he bade Helen pray, if she must pray outside the service-book, that John Hampden might have the seven devils cast out of him, and return to his duty. Helen quietly replied that she did pray for Mr. Hampden,—that he might be delivered from the devils who were, not within him, but about him.

Though the family interest in such a trial could not die out, the family alarm diminished day by day. It was impossible that a gentleman as much extolled for his modesty and gentle dignity by the one party, as for his public spirit by the other, should meet with any ignominious treatment: but still, when the moment came, Henrietta could not ask the news. Her maid informed her, as she was dressing for dinner, that a dark gentleman had ridden up, in great haste, wishing to speak with Sir Oliver without dismounting: but Sir Oliver was out woodcock-shooting, which vexed the gentleman so as to make him swear terribly. He had thrown himself from his horse, however, and demanded to be furnished with writing materials in a chamber, where he was certainly dressing; for his servant was now attending on him. The servant would not tell his master’s name, nor let his livery be seen.

This part of the story did not fix Henrietta’s attention; for gentlemen who swore terribly when vexed, and rode up unexpectedly, were of almost daily occurrence at Biggin House. It was the stranger’s intention of riding on, after telling his news, which agitated her. The two girls appeared, when summoned, with a heightened colour and a troubled manner.

The dark gentleman was with Sir Oliver. Henrietta knew him in a moment, and whispered to Helen that it was Lord Wentworth.

“Do you know whom we have the honour of entertaining, young ladies?” asked Sir Oliver.

Henrietta named him as she made her reverent curtsey. Being asked by his lordship whether he ought to have recognised her, she innocently replied that Lady Carlisle had shown her a portrait which left no room for doubt. The name of Lady Carlisle, and the name of Hampden each bespoke Lord Wentworth’s graciousness; and he at once applied himself to soften to Henrietta the blow of hearing that the trial had ended unfavourably for her father. He said that there would be no present result to himself, and none of any serious consequence at any time: and if he should lose a little money, he had gained, on the other hand, a treasure of honour and praise. The judges themselves had declared that they could scarcely quarrel with the event which had fixed the eyes of all England on Mr. Hampden, seeing that the temper and demeanour of so noble a gentleman was the best rebuke that could be given to the low sectaries and seditious brawlers who troubled the King’s reign.

In the course of dinner Sir Oliver relieved his lordship of the fear that Henrietta would be overwhelmed by the event of the trial. He extolled her for as loyal a damsel as existed outside of the Court. This removed all constraint; and Lord Wentworth spoke as openly of what had passed as his hearers listened eagerly. He could have wished, he said, that the twelve judges had been loyal without exception. That three of them should have countenanced the popular undutifulness would spoil the flavour of victory to the King.

“What possessed them to desert the King?” Sir Oliver inquired. “Their ermine should be pulled over their heads,” he concluded; “that is my opinion.”

“As for what possessed them, I was curious to discover,” Lord Wentworth said. “I find that a lady’s spirit has cost His Majesty one of his judges. Croke is an apprehensive man and pliable in proportion. That he should stiffen his neck is an opposition which no person about the Court had imagined. It is true, he bore an anxious countenance from the day the trial was resolved on; but so did many another man. It was remarked on the first day of the last week of the pleadings that he had assumed a sudden cheerfulness and strength. Some said it was because his task was nearly over, and the reward at hand; but the real occasion was that his lady had taken his conscience into her charge.”

“How could she do that?” Helen asked. “Who but a Popish priest can take charge of consciences?”