GREEN LANES OF ENGLAND. BY MRS. NEWTON CROSLAND. Green Lanes-Green Lanes of England, With graceful curves and gentle slopes, I feel that 'mid your flowery banks, Which gives you life, and makes you know Your soft delicious breath comes forth In rolling waves of scent, As if the garden and the grove As if the eager honey-bee- That type of lucre-lover still Had flung from every flower Green Lanes, Green Lanes of England, Ye point and lead; then lure us on A full rich chord swells on the breeze- Where cawing rooks hold parliament, With all the changeless-changeful grace Anon we turn and leave the haunt Of Baron old-or new: And down the hill and up the lane, The music has a changed tone, As if by searching minor key A group of low-roofed cottages Ranged round by hedge of Circumstance Where labour's wheel unceasing rolls As if some film of clay were spread Yet sunburnt children loll about In grave and lazy play ; And God's Eye to the core of things We sat alone, we two, my grief and I My dumb, dead hope that in full bloom had died; I only saw that unmasked misery, ALL IS NOT GOLD, THAT GLITTERS. СНАР. І. "Don't be uneasy about him, porter-he's quite harmless." Such were the last words I heard uttered in the merry voice of my friend Fred Mordaunt, as the train, steadily getting in motion, carried me on beyond hearing of the anathemas and expostulations of a surly porter, whose impotent ire I had aroused, somewhat maliciously perhaps, by the simple process of leaning out of the window of the compartment, in which I was sole occupant, to light a cigar. Well, we were off at last; and I at least, out of all the scores of passengers who were being whirled along at fifty miles an hour by that afternoon's express, had pleasure therein. People may grumble as they like, and talk of the vanished delights of old coaching days, to the disparagement of railway travelling; but, for my own part, I always thoroughly enjoy a couple of hundred miles by rail. There is something very exhilarating in the pace, and something still more amusing in the variety and numbers of your fellow-passengers. A man can hardly pass over a few thousand miles of the iron road without finding his knowledge of human nature, and probably his nosce teipsum, materially extended. Be this as it may, I decidedly prefer railway travelling-perhaps, to be candid, because I have never had much experience of coaching. And my enjoyment of my present journey was very materially enhanced by the prospect which awaited me at its far end. A six weeks' stay by the sea-side, and escape from dingy, smoky London, is a highly agreeable idea to a hard-working London artist; coupled with as much rest and idleness as the reader may think fit to allow to a young aspirant for fame, whose forthcoming sea-piece" was expected by the artist and a few of his intimate friends to create some sensation at the ensuing Exhibition. 66 scribe its daily round of bathing, strolling on In this my lonely state, my chief amusement at "Parade-time" was observation of the various loungers upon the pier. Amongst these, my attention was particularly drawn to one family party, as they appeared to be, consisting of a small, middle-aged, sandy, scrubby-haired genLet the reader pass over a space of six hours tleman, of somewhat meek aspect; and his or so, and imagine me at last settled in my wife, a large, stout, red-faced woman-one who lodgings-my "rooms" I felt inclined to write; had evidently in her day been something of a only upon reflection the term seemed too aristo- beauty; but good living and bad temper had cratic for the two small chambers, a sitting and not left much of it now. But that which I am bed-room, for the possession of which, including "free to confess," as the newspapers have it, the privilege of being entirely taken in and had the most attraction for me, was a tall, handdone for, I paid my amiable landlady, Mrs. some, stylish-looking girl of three or four and Gubbins, the sum of three pounds weekly; the twenty; whether daughter or niece I could not most attractive piece of furniture in each of the decide, but I inclined to the latter. Fine dark said rooms being a gaudy fly-catcher, suspended hair and eyes, faultless features, and a splendid from the ceiling, which afforded me many figure, certainly combined to make the young professional reveries anent harmony of colours. lady what my friend Freddy would have called The occupations of the first week of my "a regular top-sawyer." They did not apsojourn need not be detailed. Brightmouth pear to have any acquaintances in Brightis too well known to need that I should de-mouth; probably, thought I, come down here CHAP. II. for the same purpose as myself-a little retire- from the gentleman. Certainly Mr. Polby was ment; and a feeling of unexpressed sympathy a very polite man. arose within me. Possibly the young lady's splendid eyes had something to do with it; but I am philanthropic, according to my cranial bumps; and "man is a gregarious animal," as philosophers tell us; which two reasons, backed up by my solitary condition, are, I hope, amply sufficient to satisfy the reader, as I endeavoured to satisfy myself, with regard to the cause of this sympathy. And my benevolent feelings were ere long unexpectedly put into activity. I was one morning taking my daily constitutional in the shape of an hour's pull in a small boat, of the species in which Brightmouth abounds, when, as the Fates ordained, just as I was passing the end of the pier in my very best style I pride myself a little upon my rowing-down came a gay parasol whirling and twisting into the water within a dozen yards of my boat. To turn and secure the fugitive was the work of a minute, and, securing my boat to the landing-steps, I climbed with much alacrity upon the pier; such adventures did not befal a solitary visitor every day. As I cast my eyes round upon the groups of amused spectators to discover the fair owner of my prize, a nervous but oily voice at my elbow caused me to turn suddenly. "Mrs. Polby and myself are extremely obliged to you, sir!" said the scrubby-haired gentleman before mentioned, nervously wriggling out his words with a profusion of bows, and washing his hands as diligently as though he had not enjoyed that luxury for at least the previous week; "much obliged, and my niece also," he repeated, bowing again until his swallow-tails stood horizontally in a line with his back. The black-haired young lady stretched forth a very neat gloved hand to receive her parasol. "Monsieur is very kind," she said with a splendid smile, and in a slightly foreign accent. May I," continued Mr. Polby, with another short bow-" that is, Mrs. Polby and myself would esteem it a favour to know to whom we are indebted for the catching of-for the preserving of-of-" "Oh, certainly!" said I, "with pleasure," and I handed my card to the gentleman. Mr Polby turned to the lady, who, after a short but amusing fumble in her reticule, produced a card-case. "We shall be most happy to see you, Mr. Lumley, at Prospect Villa, whenever you like to favour us with your company," said Mrs. Polby graciously, as she presented her card, which bore the inscription: "Mrs. Polby," and in the corner in pencil, "Prospect Villa." "Most happy to see you, Mr. Lumley, sir," assented Mr. Polby with more bows: and another irresistible smile from the handsome young lady settled the question. "Yes, I would shortly do myself the honour of calling at Prospect Villa;" and we parted pro tem, with many smiles from the ladies and repeated bows I cannot deny that I did feel in somewhat extra good spirits as I walked back to my lodgings that morning. The United Bachelors, whom I encountered just as I left the pier, and who I know had had strong suspicions as to my character, and equally strong hopes of my shortly enlisting in their ranks, must instantaneously have confessed that their suspicions were false, and at once have given up all hopes of a new recruit when they met me that morning. I almost fancy they set me down as a paterfamilias-at the very least they must have allowed me an unlimited arrival of cousins in Brightmouth. Poor fellows! I really pitied them; and they knew it. Mrs. Gubbins remarked, with a rather peculiar manner, as she cleared away the remnants of my dinner, that she "hoped as the sea-hair was a-doing of me good; which she was led to suppose so from increasing consumption," a somewhat mysterious and paradoxical conclusion, but I was in far too pleased a mood to spend much time in analyzing Mrs. Gubbins's ideas. The next evening I called at Prospect Villa. I will not be sure that I had not spent five minutes extra upon the arrangement of the outward man artists are not generally remarkable for attention to dress-but then, was it not to be expected? Of course I should meet Mrs. Polby, and perhaps I endeavoured to look indifferent as I thought this-perhaps her niece also. Prospect Villa was a really handsome house, facing the sea; one of a line of similar detached buildings upon the Marine Parade. The young lady was seated by the open window as I approached. "Ah! c'est Monsieur!" she exclaimed, as I lifted my hat. In a moment Mr. Polby was at the door. "Walk in, sir," said he, as he ushered me into the house, and, throwing open the drawing-room door, he announced me as "Mr. Lumley." He appeared on the point of retiring after saying thus much, but apparently thought better of it, for he suddenly opened again the half-shut door, and came into the room. He was decidedly a bashful man. "Very glad to see you, Mr. Lumley," said the lady of the house, as she shook hands: " pray find a seat, Lisette. You must thank the gentleman for saving your parasol." "Oh, Monsieur was so very kind!" said the young lady, with a winning smile. "I am so grateful: I cannot find words to thank Monsieur !" But dark eyes can do a great deal more than words, and Mademoiselle's thanks were amply rendered. Certainly those eyes were magnificent; and the young lady was so artless, so I could only bow. She laughed heartily: "Oh! ma chere tante, entendez-vous? Monsieur imagines that I am étrangère !" Mrs. Polby joined the laugh. "Ah! Mr. Lumley," she said, "you are not the only one that has fallen into the same mistake; but Miss Polby is English-quite English by birth; but she has lived so long abroad, that she is quite as much French as English in manner. "O yes," assented Miss Polby, "I am English-J'aime les Anglais !" Mademoiselle-for I could not help calling her so-looked so excessively handsome, and smiled so bewitchingly, as she uttered the words, that I could have wished the concluding declaration had been a little less catholic, and somewhat more individual in its application. Mr. Polby, who, after furtively selecting the poorest-looking chair in the room, had seated himself upon its extreme edge, with an air very unlike that of an Englishman in his own house, here broke in: "Mrs. Polby and myself have been much abroad," he observed, washing his hands nervously, "and my niece has lived nearly all her life in France. Mrs. Polby and myself prefer the continent: we are not at home amongst English customs-so stuck-up, you know!" "Ah!" said the lady, "I do so love the French! The restraints of English society are so provoking! But of course, Mr. Lumley, you'll stay tea-quite in a friendly way, you know. We've come down here quite incog. It is such a pleasure to rough it a little! Lisette makes a capital housekeeper, and we make Mr. Polby butler, and then we have just one girl for cook-it is so delightful to be relieved from the charge of a lot of servants!" Of course I was delighted to stay. "And Monsieur shall see how good a housekeeper I am," laughed Lisette; "and my uncle shall be butler, and Monsieur shall pronounce that he does it well." And she tripped away to make her preparations. A capital butler Mr. Polby did make, when he entered the room a few minutes after, carrying a tray laden with cups, saucers, plates, and a handsome silver tea-service; and then proceeded, amidst the laughter and jokes of the ladies, to arrange them on the table in a highly professional manner. Mr. Polby was evidently an eccentric, but clever man. Few small tea-parties have passed over more pleasantly than ours that evening. "Was Mademoiselle musical?" I asked, after Mr. Polby had cleverly concluded his performance by clearing the table in the very best style. Oh, Mademoiselle was very musical. "Would she play?” I asked, as I looked towards a handsome piano at the other end of the room. "Ah! Monsieur is very cruel! il se moque de moi! Does not Monsieur see?" Yes, I saw a very pretty white hand held up, with a bandage on one finger. Of course I was extremely sorry, and doubly so from being deprived of the pleasure of hearing Mademoiselle perform. "That comes of housekeeping, Mr. Lumley," said Mrs. Polby. "But, Lisette, you must not escape a song." "Surely Mademoiselle will not refuse?" said I, with an appealing look. "If Monsieur insists," she said, laughing, and seated herself at the piano. Playing an extempore accompaniment with the uninjured hand, she sang, in a fine rich voice, "Oui Vraiment." Her style was lively and expressive; but her voice wanted training. "Lisette never would have a singing-master," said Mrs. Polby. "Oh! I hate masters," assented the young lady, with an expressive shrug of the shoulders. Then we had "Du, Du!" and other German songs. I am particularly fond of German music, and I was enchanted. What would I give, thought I, to hear her play? And so the evening passed on delightfully; but the best of friends must part, and I felt that I must take my leave. "Au revoir!" said Mademoiselle, with a charming smile, and a look which said-well, I won't say what it said, because I may be wrong; but at any rate I went home that night remarkably well pleased with myself. CHAP. III. From that time I saw a great deal of the Polbys-indeed, I was with them more or less every day. We boated, and walked, and “paraded," and read under boats, and went home to Prospect Villa for tea and a song-for Lisette's finger would not get well, and so we had no music; but the song did duty for both. The Polbys knew no one in Brightmouth, nor did they apparently care to know any one"English people were so stiff and cold: they did not care for English society!" I surmised that they were people of property, from the handsomely furnished residence they had hired, and from the unusual amount of plate which was constantly made use of; but, as Mr. Polby informed me, very nervously, they had no landed property, they so much preferred living abroad. "Mrs. Polby and myself," he said," do not care to form any ties in England; so we never do more than hire a house for a few months at a time; and Lisette, poor orphan Lisette, is our adopted child, our heiress !" Though the Polbys had no friends in Brightmouth, it was plain that the circle of their acquaintance was no small one. It was quite amusing to hear Mrs. Polby and Lisette describe their aristocratic and titled friends. Lisette was a decided quiz, and would keep us all in fits of laughter by the half-hour together at her clever caricature impersonations of her lady-acquaintances; nor did the gentlemen escape. I had the honour once of just catching a glimpse of one of these titled friends, who was making a morning-call. Mrs. Polby, Lisette, and myself were sitting chatting together in a small breakfast-parlour, which the lady had selected as her boudoir, when a handsome carriage drove up to the door. “Oh, voila! ma chère tante," cried Lisette, hastily; directing her aunt's attention to the arrival. Mrs. Polby rose quickly, apparently not a little put out by such an early call. "Pray excuse me, Mr. Lumley," she said, hastily: "Lisette will keep you company." And she hurried off. We heard the visitors come in, and apparently enter several rooms in succession. After remaining about ten minutes, they took their leave. From the window I saw Mr. Polby come out with an elderly, stout gentleman leaning on his arm. Mr. Polby threw open the carriage-door, and the old gentleman got in." "Polby," said he, as he seated himself, "don't forget the fires." "Certainly, sir," returned the latter, with a low bow; "I will remember!" And, closing the door, the carriage drove off. There was no doubt that Mr. Polby was a most polite man-"quite a gentleman of the old school!" as I laughed to Lisette. "Ah! je l'aime beaucoup," was her reply. "Sir John Grasmere,' ," she said; "an old friend of Mr. Polby's. Such an eccentric old man! But such an unfashionable hour for a call, you know. Just like Sir John!" The Polbys were very amusing people; they had so many little drolleries amongst themselves. The ladies frequently alluded to Mr. Polby as "the master." The first time I heard them use the word I was quite at a loss to understand to whom they alluded. Lisette had accidentally knocked down a handsome china vase, which stood on a small table in the drawing-room. "Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Polby, starting up in alarm, "Oh! Lisette, what will master say?" Lisette seemed also at first a little disconcerted at this idea; but after a moment she replied, with a laugh, as she looked appealingly to me: "Monsieur will intercede for me. He is the friend of the master." My look of devotion was an ample guarantee for my best exertions in the cause. Presently Mr. Polby came in. He washed his hands more nervously than ever when he saw the damage. "Very unfortunate, Lisette," he said. "Ah! Mr. Polby," interrupted I, "accidents will happen, you know, in the best regulated families." "Yes! just so, Mr. Lumley, sir! Quite so!" replied the master, looking still very ruefully upon the débris of his china. 'Well, come now, the master won't be so very angry?" said Mrs. Polby, appealingly to her spouse. "Oh, no; of course not! Quite an accident, you know, Mrs. Polby! Can't be angry; of course not! Eh?" half said, half askeď Mr. Polby: 66 Certainly not," replied the lady, with a slight toss of her head; and so the affair ended. After that time I frequently heard Mr. Polby styled "master." It was very amusing. Very soon after our acquaintance commenced I was called upon to take Lisette's likeness. "Monsieur is an artist," said the young lady, laughingly. "Positively Monsieur must paint my portrait." I was delighted to take her at her word, and so the portrait was commenced; but we found the sittings so very agreeable that the work was by no means hurried to a completion. It was a dangerous undertaking for an unprotected young gentleman of three-and-twenty, however Platonic and professional in his views, with such a sitter. The sittings had not continued long beforeas the reader will readily guess-I was over head and ears in love. "Ah! Henri, je n'osé pas le nier, tu sais bien que je t'aime!" was the confession whispered into my ear one delightful evening as we strolled along the beach. I had gone thus far without any thought as to the ultimate issue; but now that we were fairly engaged, I had to consider what probability there was that the uncle would give his consent. My adored Lisette was, he had told me, his heiress, and therefore rich. I was a working artist, whose chief inheritance was a good name, good blood, and as much of this world's wealth as usually falls to the share of a younger son, low on the list. My intimacy with the head of the family, my eldest brother, was chiefly limited to a few weeks' visit during the shooting-season, and a very kind and valuable letter on my birthday. My brother was a thoroughly kind-hearted fellow; but his maxim was, and very justly: "Harry must provide |