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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
1. The text that appears in every version of a merged document is often called boilerplate text.
a. True
b. False
ANSWER: True
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

2. A data field is a placeholder that you insert in the main document to indicate where the data from each record should be
inserted when you perform the merge.
a. True
b. False
ANSWER: False
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

3. When you are creating a data source, you must insert data into every field of a record.
a. True
b. False
ANSWER: False
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Enter and Edit Records 136

4. You can insert a merge field by typing chevrons around a field name in the main document text.
a. True
b. False
ANSWER: False
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Add Merge Fields 138

5. Merging to a new file creates an individual document for each customized letter.
a. True
b. False
ANSWER: False
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Merge Data 140

6. The file with the unique data for individual people or items is called the merge source. _________________________
ANSWER: False - data
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

7. A data set is a complete set of related information for an individual or an item, such as one person’s name and address.
_________________________
ANSWER: False - record

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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

8. To match the names of the merge fields in the main document with the field names used in the data source, click the
Match Fields button in the Fields group on the Mailings tab. _________________________
ANSWER: False - Write & Insert Fields, Write and Insert Fields
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

9. In the New Address List dialog box, you can press [Tab] at the end of the last field to start a new record.
_________________________
ANSWER: True
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Enter and Edit Records 136

10. When you sort records, you separate out the records that meet a certain criteria and include only those records in the
merge. _________________________
ANSWER: False - filter
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Sort and Filter Records 144

11. Which of the following cannot be created using a mail merge?

a. Mailing labels b. Web pages
c. Business cards d. Form letters
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Merging Word Documents 129

12. Which of the following contains merge fields?

a. Merge source b. Data record
c. Main document d. Data source
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

13. Which of the following contains the unique information for each individual or item?
a. Merge source b. Data source
c. Data file d. Main document
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

14. Which of the following would you NOT find in the data source?
a. Data fields b. Field names
c. Data records d. Merge fields
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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
ANSWER: d
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

15. What results when a main document is merged with a data source?
a. A set of identical documents b. Data records
c. A set of customized documents d. Boilerplate text
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

16. Which of the following cannot be a data source for a mail merge?
a. An Excel worksheet b. An Outlook contact list
c. A PowerPoint presentation d. An Access database
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

17. The Start Mail Merge button appears in the ____ group on the Mailings tab.
a. New Mail Merge b. Start Mail Merge
c. Mail Merge d. Merge
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

18. To create a mail merge from a template, select a template that includes the word(s) ____ in its name.
a. Mailings b. Mail Merge
c. Merge d. Data
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

19. To start a mail merge, click the Start Mail Merge button on the Mailings tab, then click ____.
a. Step by Step Mail Merge Wizard b. New Mail Merge
c. Start Mail Merge d. Start Mail Merge Wizard
ANSWER: a
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

20. The mail merge process has ____ steps.

a. five b. six
c. seven d. eight
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

21. You select the type of document you want to create in step ____ of the mail merge process.
a. 1 b. 2
c. 3 d. 4
ANSWER: a
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

22. If you created a main document based on an existing document entitled “Confirmation Letter,” what default filename
would Word give the main document?
a. Confirmation Letter-1 b. Document1
c. Confirmation Letter-merge d. MainDocument1
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

23. A(n) ____ cannot be selected as the document type on the Mail Merge task pane.
a. Letter b. Directory
c. Fax d. E-mail message
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 133

24. You select a data source to use for the merge in step ____ of the mail merge process.
a. 1 b. 2
c. 3 d. 4
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Design a Data Source 134

25. The first thing you must do when creating a new data source is ____.
a. add the records b. determine the fields to include
c. filter the data d. insert the merge fields
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Design a Data Source 134

26. Click the ____ option button in the Mail Merge task pane to use an Outlook contact list as a data source for a merge.
a. Use Outlook contacts list b. Select Contacts
c. Select from Outlook contacts d. Mail Merge Recipients
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Design a Data Source 135
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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)

27. Use the ____ dialog box to select the recipients to include in the mail merge.
a. Edit Mail Merge b. Mail Merge
c. Mail Merge Recipients d. Edit Data Source
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Enter and Edit Records 136

28. Data sources created in Word are saved in ____ format.

a. Microsoft Office Data Source b. Microsoft Office Address Lists
c. Microsoft Office Mail Merge d. Microsoft Office Record Lists
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Enter and Edit Records 136

29. Which of the following characters surround a merge field in a main document?
a. (( )) b. << >>
c. // \\ d. [[ ]]
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Add Merge Fields 138

30. You can insert merge fields using the Address Block, Greeting Line, and Insert Merge Field buttons in the ____ group
on the Mailings tab.
a. Create b. Start Mail Merge
c. Fields d. Write & Insert Fields
ANSWER: d
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Add Merge Fields 138

31. Use the ____ dialog box to specify the fields you want to include in an address block.
a. Insert Address Block b. Insert Field
c. Edit Address Block d. Format Address Block
ANSWER: a
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Add Merge Fields 138

32. You write your letter and insert merge fields in step ____ of the mail merge process.
a. 1 b. 3
c. 4 d. 5
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Add Merge Fields 138

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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
33. What is one advantage of merging to a printer instead of to a new file?
a. You can avoid creating a large file.
b. You can edit the main document.
c. You can edit the individual merge documents.
d. You can save each merge document as a separate file.
ANSWER: a
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Merge Data 140

34. You can preview the merge using the task pane or the Preview Results button in the ____ group on the Mailings tab.
a. Finish b. Preview Results
c. Preview d. View
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Merge Data 140

35. When you merge letters to a new document, how does Word name the new document?
a. Word prompts you to assign a name to the document.
b. Word automatically assigns the temporary default name ‘Letters1’ to the document.
c. Word assigns a name based on the name of the main document (i.e. “Confirmation Letters - merged”)
d. Word automatically assigns the temporary default name “Merged1’ to the document.
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Merge Data 140

36. To create or change the return address for an envelope mail merge, use the ____ dialog box.
a. Word Options b. Label Options
c. Mail Merge Recipients d. Labels
ANSWER: a
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create Labels 142

37. When creating labels, use the ____ dialog box to select a label size and to specify the type of printer you plan to use.
a. Labels b. Create Labels
c. Label Options d. Format Labels
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create Labels 142

38. Use the Envelopes command in the Create group on the MAILINGS tab to open the ____ dialog box, which you can
use to quickly format and print an individual envelope.
a. Envelopes b. Create Envelope
c. New Envelope d. Envelopes and Labels
ANSWER: d
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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create Labels 143

39. What indicates that a filter has been applied to a column in the Mail Merge Recipients dialog box?
a. An exclamation point appears in the column heading. b. The entire column is shaded light gray.
c. There is a grayish-blue arrow in the column heading. d. The column heading is highlighted.
ANSWER: c
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Sort and Filter Records 144

40. You can use the ____ dialog box to sort and filter a data source.
a. Label Options b. Customize Address List
c. New Address List d. Mail Merge Recipients
ANSWER: d
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Sort and Filter Records 144

41. You can insert an individual merge field by clicking the ____ list arrow in the Write & Insert Fields group and then
selecting the field name from the menu that opens.
a. Insert Field b. Insert Merge Field
c. New Merge Field d. Add Merge Field
ANSWER: b
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Sort and Filter Records 145

42. In a mail merge, a(n) ____________________ contains a complete set of related information about each individual or
item, such as one person’s name and address.
ANSWER: data record
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

43. In a mail merge, the ____________________ document contains boilerplate text.

ANSWER: main
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Understand Mail Merge 130

44. To create a mail merge from a template, select a template from the Letters or ____________________ tab in the
Select Template dialog box.
ANSWER: Faxes
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132

45. Use the ____________________ dialog box to design a new data source and enter records.
ANSWER: New Address List
POINTS: 1
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Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
REFERENCES: Design a Data Source 134

46. Use the ____________________ dialog box to apply advanced sort and filter options to a data source.
ANSWER: Filter and Sort
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Sort and Filter Records 144

47. What are the six steps in the mail merge process?
ANSWER: Step 1: Select a document type (i.e. letters, labels, etc).
Step 2: Select the starting document (the main document). You can use the existing document, start with
a mail merge template, or use an existing file.
Step 3: Select a data source. You can use an existing data source, use a list of contacts created in
Microsoft Outlook, or create a new data source.
Step 4: Write your main document (the boilerplate text) then insert merge fields into the main document.
Step 5: Preview your letters.
Step 6: Complete the merge. You can merge to a new document, which creates one large file that
includes all the customized documents, or you can merge directly to a printer.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132
Design a Data Source 134
Add Merge Fields 138
Merge Data 140
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

48. How can you easily format and print individual envelopes and labels?
ANSWER: You can use the Envelopes or Labels commands in the Create group on the Mailings tab. Click the
Envelopes button or Labels button to open the Envelopes and Labels dialog box. On the Envelopes tab,
type the recipient’s address in the Delivery address box and the return address in the Return address box.
Click Options to open the Envelope Options dialog box, which you can use to select the envelope size,
change the font and font size of the delivery and return addresses, and change the printing options. When
you are ready to print the envelope, click Print in the Envelopes and Labels dialog box. The procedure
for printing an individual label is similar to printing an individual envelope: enter the recipient’s address
in the Address box on the Labels tab, click Options to select a label product number, click OK, and then
click Print.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create Labels 143
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

49. How do you use the Mailings tab to create mailing labels?
ANSWER: To create labels using the Mailings tab:
1. Click the File tab, click New, make sure Blank document is selected, click Create, then click the
Mailings tab.
2. Click the Start Mail Merge button in the Start Mail Merge group, then click Labels to open the Label
Options dialog box.
3. Click the Label vendors list arrow, then choose a label vendor. Choose the type of label in the Product
number list, click OK, click the Table Tools Layout tab, click View Gridlines in the Table group to turn
on the display of gridlines if necessary, then click the Mailings tab.

Copyright Cengage Learning. Powered by Cognero. Page 8

Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
4. Click the Select Recipients button in the Start Mail Merge group and choose your data source. The
data source is attached to the label main document and <<Next Record>> appears in every cell in the
table except the first cell, which is blank.
5. Sort and filter your labels as desired. Use the buttons in the Write & Insert Fields group to insert
merge fields into the first cell, then click the Update Labels button to copy the merge fields in the first
label to every label in the main document.
6. Preview the labels, then click the Finish & Merge button in the Finish group to complete the merge.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create Labels 142
Sort and Filter Records 144
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

Akela wants to send letters to current patients apprising them of the latest changes in Health Insurance Portability and
Accountability Act (HIPAA) requirements. She has already written the letter, and now she will use her Outlook contacts
list to create the mail merge.
50. How would Akela use her Outlook contacts list to begin the mail merge?
ANSWER: Akela will use her Outlook contacts list for her data source in the merge. She will do the following to
merge her letter with her Outlook contacts list:

1. Akela will click the Select from Outlook contacts option button in Step 3 in the Mail Merge task pane,
then click Choose Contacts Folder to open the Choose Profile dialog box.
2. In the Choose Profile dialog box, she will use the Profile Name list arrow to select the profile she
wants to use, then click OK to open the Select Contacts dialog box.
3. In the Select Contacts dialog box, she will select the contact list she wants to use as the data source,
and then click OK. All the contacts included in the selected folder appear in the Mail Merge Recipients
dialog box.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Design a Data Source 135
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

51. Akela’s Outlook contacts list includes all the patients who have had an appointment in the last 10 years, but she only
wants to send letters to current patients only. How can she modify the recipients list to only include current patients?
ANSWER: Akela needs to filter her recipients list to only include current patients.
She should do the following:

1. Click the Edit Recipient List button in the Start Mail Merge group or in step 3 of the Mail Merge task
pane to open the Mail Merge Recipients dialog box.
2. Scroll right if needed to display the Patients field.
3. Click the Patients column heading list arrow, then click Current on the menu that opens.
A filter is applied to the data source so that only the records with “Current” in the Patients field will be
merged. A grayish-blue arrow in the Patients column heading indicates that a filter has been applied to
the heading.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Sort and Filter Records 144
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

52. Akela now needs to add merge fields to her letter so that a greeting line, address, and patient number appears in each
Copyright Cengage Learning. Powered by Cognero. Page 9
Name: Class: Date:

Module 6 (Word)
of the customized letters. How would she add these fields?
ANSWER: Akela can use the Mail Merge task pane or the Address Block, Greeting Line, and Insert Merge Field
buttons in the Write & Insert Fields group on the Mailings tab.
To insert a merge field for the greeting line, she would click Greeting line in the Mail Merge task pane or
click the Greeting Line button on the Mailings tab. She would then use the Insert Greeting Line dialog
box to specify the format of the greeting line.
To insert a merge field for the address, she would click Address block in the Mail Merge task pane or
click the Address Block button on the Mailings tab. She would then use the Insert Address Block dialog
box to specify the fields to include in the address block.
To insert a merge field for the patient number, she would click More items in the Mail Merge task pane
or click the Insert Merge Field button on the Mailings tab. The Insert Merge Field dialog box opens, and
she would select the Patient Number field name from the list.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Add Merge Fields 138
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

53. Chris needs to quickly announce alternative parking due to construction near his office. He wants to write a letter to
use for a mail merge, and he wants to use a preformatted document to help him get started. What should he use to start his
document?
ANSWER: Chris should use a mail merge template to start his main document. A mail merge template includes
customizable boilerplate text and merge fields. To create a main document that is based on a mail merge
template, he will do the following:

1. Click the Start from a template option button in the Step 2 of 6 Mail Merge task pane, and then click
Select template.
2. In the Select Template dialog box, select a template from the Letters tab that includes the word
“Merge” in its name, and then click OK to create the document.
3. He can then customize the document with his own information by editing the boilerplate text,
changing the document format, and adding, removing, or modifying the merge fields.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

54. What should Chris do to ensure that the names of the merge fields are the same as the field names used in his data
source?
ANSWER: Before performing the merge, Chris should make sure to match the names of the merge fields used in the
template with the field names used in his data source. To match the field names, click the Match Fields
button in the Write & Insert Fields group on the Mailings tab, and then use the list arrows in the Match
Fields dialog box to select the field name in his data source that corresponds to each field component in
the main document.
POINTS: 1
REFERENCES: Create a Main Document 132
TOPICS: Critical Thinking

Copyright Cengage Learning. Powered by Cognero. Page 10

Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
who was going to die. But he set his affairs straight as to the future,
and appointed another heir in his son’s place—his nephew, Harry
Carradyne.
Harry Carradyne, a brave young lieutenant, was then with his
regiment in some almost inaccessible fastness of the Indian Empire.
Captain Monk (not concealing his lamentation and the cruel grief it
was to himself personally) wrote word to him of the fiat concerning
poor Hubert, together with a peremptory order to sell out and return
home as the future heir. This was being accomplished, and Harry
might now be expected almost any day.
But it may as well be mentioned that Captain Monk, never given to
be confidential about himself or his affairs, told no one what he had
done, with one exception. Even Mrs. Carradyne was ignorant of the
change in her son’s prospects and of his expected return. The one
exception was Hubert. Soon to lose him, Captain Monk made more
of his son than he had ever done, and seemed to like to talk with
him.
“Harry will make a better master to succeed you than I should have
made, father,” said Hubert, as they were slowly pacing home from
the parsonage, arm-in-arm, one dull November day, some little time
after the meet of the hounds, as recorded. It was surprising how
often Captain Monk would now encounter his son abroad, as if by
accident, and give him his arm home.
“What d’ye mean?” wrathfully responded the Captain, who never
liked to hear his own children disparaged, by themselves or by
anyone else.
Hubert laughed a little. “Harry will look after things better than I
ever should. I was always given to laziness. Don’t you remember,
father, when a little boy in the West Indies, you used to tell me I was
good for nothing but to bask in the heat?”
“I remember one thing, Hubert; and, strange to say, have
remembered it only lately. Things lie dormant in the memory for
years, and then crop up again. Upon getting home from one of my
long voyages, your mother greeted me with the news that your
heart was weak; the doctor had told her so. I gave the fellow a
trimming for putting so ridiculous a notion into her head—and it
passed clean out of mine. I suppose he was right, though.”
“Little doubt of that, father. I wonder I have lived so long.”
“Nonsense!” exploded the Captain; “you may live on yet for years. I
don’t know that I did not act foolishly in sending post-haste for
Harry Carradyne.”
Hubert smiled a sad smile. “You have done quite right, father; right
in all ways; be sure of that. Harry is one of the truest and best
fellows that ever lived: he will be a comfort to you when I am gone,
and the best of all successors later. Just—a—moment—father!”
“Why, what’s the matter?” cried Captain Monk—for his son had
suddenly halted and stood with a rapidly-paling face and shortened
breath, pressing his hands to his side. “Here, lean on me, lad; lean
on me.”
It was a sudden faintness. Nothing very much, and it passed off in a
minute or two. Hubert made a brave attempt at smiling, and
resumed his way. But Captain Monk did not like it at all; he knew all
these things were but the beginning of the end. And that end,
though not with actual irreverence, he was resenting bitterly in his
heart.
“Who’s that coming out?” he asked, crossly, alluding to some figure
descending the steps of his house—for his sight was not what it
used to be.
“It is Mr. Hamlyn,” said Hubert.
“Oh—Hamlyn! He seems to be always coming in. I don’t like that
man somehow, Hubert. Wonder what he’s lagging in the
neighbourhood for?”
Hubert Monk had an idea that he could have told. But he did not
want to draw down an explosion on his own head. Mr. Hamlyn came
to meet them with friendly smiles and hand-shakes. Hubert liked
him; liked him very much.
Not only had Mr. Hamlyn prolonged his stay beyond the “day or two”
he had originally come for, but he evinced no intention of leaving.
When Mr. Peveril and his wife departed for the south, he made a
proposal to remain at Peacock’s Range for a time as their tenant.
And when the astonished couple asked his reasons, he answered
that he should like to get a few runs with the hounds.

II

The November days glided by. The end of the month was
approaching, and still Philip Hamlyn stayed on, and was a very
frequent visitor at Leet Hall. Little doubt that Miss Monk was his
attraction, and the parish began to say so without reticence.
The parish was right. One fine, frosty morning Mr. Hamlyn sought an
interview with Captain Monk and laid before him his proposals for
Eliza.
One might have thought by the tempestuous words showered down
upon him in answer that he had proposed to smother her.
Reproaches, hot and fast, were poured forth upon the suitor’s
unlucky head.
“Why, you are a stranger!” stormed the Captain; “you have not
known her a month! How dare you? It’s not commonly decent.”
Mr. Hamlyn quietly answered that he had known her long enough to
love her, and went on to say that he came of a good family, had
plenty of money, and could make a liberal settlement upon her.
“That you never will,” said Captain Monk. “I should not like you for
my son-in-law,” he continued candidly, calming down from his burst
of passion to the bounds of reason. “But there can be no question of
it in any way. Eliza is to become Lady Rivers.”
Mr. Hamlyn opened his eyes in astonishment. “Lady Rivers!” he
echoed. “Do you speak of Sir Thomas Rivers?—that old man!”
“No, I do not, sir. Sir Thomas Rivers has one foot in the grave. I
speak of his eldest son. He wants her, and he shall have her.”
“Pardon me, Captain, I—I do not think Miss Monk can know anything
of this. I am sure she did not last night. I come to you with her full
consent and approbation.”
“I care nothing about that. My daughter is aware that any attempt to
oppose her will to mine would be utterly futile. Young Tom Rivers
has written to me to ask for her; I have accepted him, and I choose
that she shall accept him. She’ll like it herself, too; it will be a good
match.”
“Young Tom Rivers is next door to a simpleton: he is not half-baked,”
retorted Mr. Hamlyn, his own temper getting up: “if I may judge by
what I’ve seen of him in the field.”
“Tom Rivers is a favourite everywhere, let me tell you, sir. Eliza
would not refuse him for you.”
“Perhaps, Captain Monk, you will converse with her upon this point?”
“I intend to give her my orders—if that’s what you mean,” returned
the Captain. “And now, sir, I think our discussion may terminate.”
Mr. Hamlyn saw no use in prolonging it for the present. Captain
Monk bowed him out of the house and called his daughter into the
room.
“Eliza,” he began, scorning to beat about the bush, “I have received
an offer of marriage for you.”
Miss Eliza blushed a little, not much: few things could make her do
that now. Once our blushes have been wasted, as hers were on
Robert Grame, their vivid freshness has faded for ever and aye. “The
song has left the bird.”
“And I have accepted it,” continued Captain Monk. “He would like the
wedding to be early in the year, so you may get your rattle-traps in
order for it. Tell your aunt I will give her a blank cheque for the cost,
and she may fill it in.”
“Thank you, papa.”
“There’s the letter; you can read it”—pushing one across the table to
her. “It came by special messenger last night, and I have sent my
answer this morning.”
Eliza Monk glanced at the contents, which were written on rose-
coloured paper. For a moment she looked puzzled.
“Why, papa, this is from Tom Rivers! You cannot suppose I would
marry him! A silly boy, younger than I am! Tom Rivers is the greatest
goose I know.”
“How dare you say so, Eliza?”
“Well, he is. Look at his note! Pink paper and a fancy edge!”
“Stuff! Rivers is young and inexperienced, but he’ll grow older—he is
a very nice young fellow, and a capital fox-hunter. You’d be master
and mistress too—and that would suit your book, I take it. I want to
have you settled near me, Eliza—you are all I have left, or soon will
be.”
“But, papa——”
Captain Monk raised his hand for silence.
“You sent that man Hamlyn to me with a proposal for you. Eliza; you
know that would not do. Hamlyn’s property lies in the West Indies,
his home too, for all I know. He attempted to tell me that he would
not take you out there against my consent; but I know better, and
what such ante-nuptial promises are worth. It might end in your
living there.”
“No, no.”
“What do you say ‘no, no’ for, like a parrot? Circumstances might
compel you. I do not like the man, besides.”
“But why, papa?”
“I don’t know; I have never liked him from the first. There! that’s
enough. You must be my Lady Rivers. Poor old Tom is on his last
legs.”
“Papa, I never will be.”
“Listen, Eliza. I had one trouble with Katherine; I will not have
another with you. She defied me; she left my home rebelliously to
enter upon one of her own setting-up: what came of it? Did luck
attend her? Do you be more wise.”
“Father,” she said, moving a step forward with head uplifted; and the
resolute, haughty look which rendered their faces so much alike was
very conspicuous on hers, “do not let us oppose each other. Perhaps
we can each give way a little? I have promised to be the wife of
Philip Hamlyn, and that promise I will fulfil. You wish me to live near
you: well, he can take a place in this neighbourhood and settle down
in it; and on my part, I will promise you not to leave this country. He
may have to go from time to time to the West Indies; I will remain
at home.”
Captain Monk looked steadily at her before he answered. He marked
the stern, uncompromising expression, the strong will in the dark
eyes and in every feature, which no power, not even his, might
unbend. He thought of his elder daughter, now lying in her grave; he
thought of his son, so soon to be lying beside her; he did not care to
be bereft of all his children, and for once in his hard life he
attempted to conciliate.
“Hark to me, Eliza. Give up Hamlyn—I have said I don’t like the
man; give up Tom Rivers also, as you will. Remain at home with me
until a better suitor shall present himself, and Leet Hall and its broad
lands shall be yours.”
She looked up in surprise. Leet Hall had always hitherto gone in the
male line; and, failing Hubert, it would be, or ought to be, Harry
Carradyne’s. Though she knew not that any steps had already been
taken in that direction.
“Leet Hall?” she exclaimed.
“Leet Hall and its broad lands,” repeated the Captain impatiently.
“Give up Mr. Hamlyn and it shall all be yours.”
She remained for some moments in deep thought, her head bent,
revolving the offer. She was fond of pomp and power, as her father
had ever been, and the temptation to rule as sole domineering
mistress in her girlhood’s home was great. But at that very instant
the tall fine form of Philip Hamlyn passed across a pathway in the
distance, and she turned from the temptation for ever. What little
capability of loving had been left to her after the advent of Robert
Grame was given to Mr. Hamlyn.
“I cannot give him up,” she said in low tones.
“What moonshine, Eliza! You are not a love-sick girl now.”
The colour dyed her face painfully. Did her father suspect aught of
the past; of where her love had been given—and rejected? The
suspicion only added fuel to the fire.
“I cannot give up Mr. Hamlyn,” she reiterated.
“Then you will never inherit Leet Hall. No, nor aught else of mine.”
“As you please, sir, about that.”
“You set me at defiance, then!”
“I don’t wish to do so, father; but I shall marry Mr. Hamlyn.”
“At defiance,” repeated the Captain, as she moved to escape from
his presence; “Katherine secretly, you openly. Better that I had never
had children. Look here, Eliza: let this matter remain in abeyance for
six or twelve months, things resting as they are. By that time you
may have come to your senses; or I (yes, I see you are ready to
retort it) to mine. If not—well, we shall only then be where we are.”
“And that we should be,” returned Eliza, doggedly. “Time will never
change either of us.”
“But events may. Let it be so, child. Stay where you are for the
present, in your maiden home.”
She shook her head in denial; not a line of her proud face giving
way, nor a curve of her decisive lips: and Captain Monk knew that he
had pleaded in vain. She would neither give up her marriage nor
prolong the period for its celebration.
What could be the secret of her obstinacy? Chiefly the impossibility
of tolerating opposition to her own indomitable will. It was her
father’s will over again; his might be a very little softening with years
and trouble; not much. Had she been in desperate love with Hamlyn
one could have understood it, but she was not; at most it was but a
passing fancy. What says the poet? I daresay you all know the lines,
and I know I have quoted them times and again, they are so true:
 “Few hearts have never loved, but fewer still
Have felt a second passion. None a third.
The first was living fire; the next a thrill;
The weary heart can never more be stirred:
Rely on it the song has left the bird.”

Very, very true. Her passion for Robert Grame had been as living fire
in its wild intensity; it was but the shadow of a thrill that warmed
her heart for Philip Hamlyn. Possibly she mistook it in a degree;
thought more of it than it was. The feeling of gratification which
arises from flattered vanity deceives a woman’s heart sometimes:
and Mr. Hamlyn did not conceal his rapturous admiration of her.
She held to her defiant course, and her father held to his. He did not
continue to say she should not marry; he had no power for that—
and perhaps he did not want her to make a moonlight escapade of
it, as Katherine had made. So the preparation for the wedding went
on, Eliza herself paying for the rattletraps, as they had been called;
Captain Monk avowed that he “washed his hands of it,” and then
held his peace.
Whether Mr. Hamlyn and his intended bride considered it best to get
the wedding over and done with, lest adverse fate, set afoot by the
Captain, should after all circumvent them, it is impossible to say, but
the day fixed was a speedy one. And if Captain Monk had deemed it
“not decent” in Mr. Hamlyn to propose for a young lady after only a
month’s knowledge, what did he think of this? They were to be
married on the last day of the year.
Was it fixed upon in defiant mockery?—for, as the reader knows, it
had proved an ominous day more than once in the Monk family. But
no, defiance had no hand in that, simply adverse fate. The day
originally fixed by the happy couple was Christmas Eve: but Mr.
Hamlyn, who had to go to London about that time on business
connected with his property, found it impossible to get back for the
day, or for some days after it. He wrote to Eliza, asking that the day
should be put off for a week, if it made no essential difference, and
fixed the last day in the year. Eliza wrote word back that she would
prefer that day; it gave more time for preparation.
They were to be married in her own church, and by its Vicar. Great
marvel existed at the Captain’s permitting this, but he said nothing.
Having washed his hands of the affair, he washed them for good:
had the bride been one of the laundry-maids in his household he
could not have taken less notice. A Miss Wilson was coming from a
little distance to be bridesmaid; and the bride and bridegroom would
go off from the church door. The question of a breakfast was never
mooted: Captain Monk’s equable indifference might not have stood
that.
“I shall wish them good luck with all my heart—but I don’t feel
altogether sure they’ll have it!” bewailed poor Mrs. Carradyne in
private. “Eliza should have agreed to the delay proposed by her
father.”

III

Ring, ring, ring, broke forth the chimes on the frosty midday air. Not
midnight, you perceive, but midday, for the church clock had just
given forth its twelve strokes. Another round of the dial, and the old
year would have departed into the womb of the past.
Bowling along the smooth turnpike road which skirted the
churchyard on one side came a gig containing a gentleman, a tall,
slender, frank-looking young man, with a fair face and the
pleasantest blue eyes ever seen. He wore a white top-coat, the
fashion then, and was driving rapidly in the direction of Leet Hall;
but when the chimes burst forth he pulled up abruptly.
“Why, what in the world——” he began—and then sat still listening
to the sweet strains of “The Bay of Biscay.” The day, though in mid-
winter, was bright and beautiful, and the golden sunlight, shining
from the dark-blue sky, played on the young man’s golden hair.
“Have they mistaken midday for midnight?” he continued, as the
chimes played out their tune and died away on the air. “What’s the
meaning of it?”
He, Harry Carradyne, was not the only one to ask this. No human
being in and about Church Leet, save Captain Monk and they who
executed his orders, knew that he had decreed that the chimes
should play that day at midday. Why did he do it? What could his
motive be? Surely not that they should, by playing (according to Mrs.
Carradyne’s theory), inaugurate ill-luck for Eliza! At the moment they
began to play she was coming out of church on Mr. Hamlyn’s arm,
having left her maiden name behind her.
A few paces more, for he was driving gently on now, and Harry
pulled up again, in surprise, as before, for the front of the church
was now in view. Lots of spectators, gentle and simple, stood about,
and a handsome chariot, with four post-horses and a great coat-of-
arms emblazoned on its panels, waited at the church gate.
“It must be a wedding!” decided Harry.
The next moment the chariot was in motion; was soon about to pass
him, the bride and bridegroom within it. A very dark but good-
looking man, with an air of command in his face, he, but a stranger
to Harry; she, Eliza. She wore a grey silk dress, a white bonnet, with
orange blossoms and a veil, which was quite the fashionable
wedding attire of the day. Her head was turned, nodding its
farewells yet to the crowd, and she did not see her cousin as the
chariot swept by.
“Dear me!” he exclaimed, mentally. “I wonder who she has
married?”
Staying quietly where he was until the spectators should have
dispersed, whose way led them mostly in opposite directions, Harry
next saw the clerk come out of the church by the small vestry door,
lock it and cross over to the stile: which brought him out close to the
gig.
“Why, my heart alive!” he exclaimed. “Is it Captain Carradyne?”
“That’s near enough,” said Harry, who knew the title was accorded
him by the rustic natives of Church Leet, as he bent down with his
sunny smile to shake the old clerk’s hand. “You are hearty as ever, I
see, John. And so you have had a wedding here?”
“Ay, sir, there have been one in the church. I was not in my place,
though. The Captain, he ordered me to let the church go for once,
and to be ready up aloft in the belfry to set the chimes going at
midday. As chance had it, the party came out just at the same time;
Miss Eliza was a bit late in coming, ye see; so it may be said the
chimes rang ’em out. I guess the sound astonished the people above
a bit, for nobody knew they were going to play.”
“But how was it all, Cale? Why should the Captain order them to
chime at midday?”
John Cale shook his head. “I can’t tell ye that rightly, Mr. Harry; the
Captain, as ye know, sir, never says why he does this or why he does
t’other. Young William Threpp, who had to be up there with me,
thought he must have ordered ’em to play in mockery—for he hates
the marriage like poison.”
“Who is the bridegroom?”
“It’s a Mr. Hamlyn, sir. A gentleman who is pretty nigh as haughty as
the Captain himself; but a pleasant-spoken, kindly man, as far as
I’ve seen: and a rich one, too.”
“Why did Captain Monk object to him?”
“It’s thought ’twas because he was a stranger to the place and has
lived over in the Indies; and he wanted Miss Eliza, so it’s said, to
have young Tom Rivers. That’s about it, I b’lieve, Mr. Harry.”
Harry Carradyne drove away thoughtfully. At the foot of the slight
ascent leading to Leet Hall, one of the grooms happened to be
standing. Harry handed over to him the horse and gig, and went
forward on foot.
“Bertie!” he called out. For he had seen Hubert before him, walking
at a snail’s pace: the very slightest hill tried him now. The only one
left of the wedding-party, for the bridesmaid drove off from the
church door. Hubert turned at the call.
“Harry! Why, Harry!”
Hand locked in hand, they sat down on a bench beside the path;
face gazing into face. There had always been a likeness between
them: in the bright-coloured, waving hair, the blue eyes and the
well-favoured features. But Harry’s face was redolent of youth and
health; in the other’s might be read approaching death.
“You are very thin, Bertie; thinner even than I expected to see you,”
broke from the traveller involuntarily.
“You are looking well, at any rate,” was Hubert’s answer. “And I am
so glad you are come: I thought you might have been here a month
ago.”
“The voyage was unreasonably long; we had contrary winds almost
from port to port. I got on to Worcester yesterday, slept there, and
hired a horse and gig to bring me over this morning. What about
Eliza’s wedding, Hubert? I was just in time to see her drive away.
Cale, with whom I had a word down yonder, says the master does
not like it.”
“He does not like it and would not countenance it: washed his hands
of it (as he told us) altogether.”
“Any good reason for that?”
“Not particularly good, that I see. Somehow he disliked Hamlyn; and
Tom Rivers wanted Eliza, which would have pleased him greatly. But
Eliza was not without blame. My father gave way so far as to ask her
to delay things for a few months, not to marry in haste, and she
would not. She might have conceded as much as that.”
“Did you ever know Eliza concede anything, Bertie?”
“Well, not often.”
“Who gave her away?”
“I did: look at my gala toggery”—opening his overcoat. “He wanted
to forbid it. ‘Don’t hinder me, father,’ I pleaded; ‘it is the last
brotherly service I can ever render her.’ And so,” his tone changing to
lightness, “I have been and gone and done it.”
Harry Carradyne understood. “Not the last, Hubert; don’t say that. I
hope you will live to render her many another yet.”
Hubert smiled faintly. “Look at me,” he said in answer.
“Yes, I know; I see how you look. But you may take a turn yet.”
“Ah, miracles are no longer wrought for us. Shall I surprise you very
much, cousin mine, if I say that were the offer made me of
prolonged life, I am not sure that I should accept it?”
“Not unless health were renewed with it; I can understand that. You
have had to endure suffering, Bertie.”
“Ay. Pain, discomfort, fears, weariness. After working out their
torment upon me, they—why then they took a turn and opened out
the vista of a refuge.”
“A refuge?”
“The one sure Refuge offered by God to the sick and sorrowful, the
weary and heavy-laden—Himself. I found it. I found Him and all His
wonderful mercy. It will not be long now, Harry, before I see Him
face to face. And here comes His true minister, but for whom I might
have missed the way.”
Harry turned his head, and saw, advancing up the drive, a good-
looking young clergyman. “Who is it?” he involuntarily cried.
“Your brother-in-law, Robert Grame. Lucy’s husband.”
It was not the fashion in those days for a bride’s mother (or one
acting as her mother) to attend the bride to church; therefore Mrs.
Carradyne, following it, was spared risk of conflict with Captain Monk
on that score. She was in Eliza’s room, assisting at the putting on of
the bridal robes (for we have to go back an hour or so) when a
servant came up to say that Mr. Hamlyn waited below. Rather
wondering—for he was to have driven straight to the church—Mrs.
Carradyne went downstairs.
“Pardon me, dear Mrs. Carradyne,” he said, as he shook hands, and
she had never seen him look so handsome, “I could not pass the
house without making one more effort to disarm Captain Monk’s
prejudices, and asking for his blessing on us. Do you think he will
consent to see me?”
Mrs. Carradyne felt sure he would not, and said so. But she sent
Rimmer to the library to ask the question. Mr. Hamlyn pencilled
down a few anxious words on paper, folded it, and put it into the
man’s hand.
No; it proved useless. Captain Monk was harder than adamant; he
sent Rimmer back with a flea in his ear, and the petition torn in two.
“I feared so,” sighed Mrs. Carradyne. “He will not this morning see
even Eliza.”
Mr. Hamlyn did not sigh in return; he spoke a cross, impatient word:
he had never been able to see reason in the Captain’s dislike to him,
and, with a brief good-morning, went out to his carriage. But,
remembering something when crossing the hall, he came back.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Carradyne; I quite forgot that I have a note for
you. It is from Mrs. Peveril, I believe; it came to me this morning,
enclosed in a letter of her husband’s.”
“You have heard at last, then!”
“At last—as you observe. Though Peveril had nothing particular to
write about; I daresay he does not care for letter writing.”
Slipping the note into her pocket, to be opened at leisure, Mrs.
Carradyne returned to the adorning of Eliza. Somehow, it was rather
a prolonged business—which made it late when the bride with her
bridesmaid and Hubert drove from the door.
Mrs. Carradyne remained in the room—to which Eliza was not to
return—putting up this, and that. The time slipped on, and it was
close upon twelve o’clock when she got back to the drawing-room.
Captain Monk was in it then, standing at the window, which he had
thrown wide open. To see more clearly the bridal party come out of
church, was the thought that crossed Mrs. Carradyne’s mind in her
simplicity.
“I very much feared they would be late,” she observed, sitting down
near her brother: and at that moment the church clock began to
strike twelve.
“A good thing if they were too late!” he answered. “Listen.”
She supposed he wanted to count the strokes—what else could he
be listening to? And now, by the stir at the distant gates, she saw
that the bridal party had come out.
“Good heavens, what’s that?” shrieked Mrs. Carradyne, starting from
her chair.
“The chimes,” stoically replied the Captain. And he proceeded to
hum through the tune of “The Bay of Biscay,” and beat a noiseless
accompaniment with his foot.
“The Chimes, Emma,” he repeated, when the melody had finished
itself out. “I ordered them to be played. It’s the last day of the old
year, you know.”
Laughing slightly at her consternation, Captain Monk closed the
window and quitted the room. As Mrs. Carradyne took her
handkerchief from her pocket to pass it over her face, grown white
with startled terror, the note she had put there came out also, and
fell on the carpet.
Picking it up, she stood at the window, gazing forth. Her sight was
not what it used to be; but she discerned the bride and bridegroom
enter their carriage and drive away; next she saw the bridesmaid get
into the carriage from the Hall, assisted by Hubert, and that drive off
in its turn. She saw the crowd disperse, this way and that; she even
saw the gig there, its occupant talking with John Cale. But she did
not look at him particularly; and she had not the slightest idea but
that Harry was in India.
And all that time an undercurrent of depression was running riot in
her heart. None knew with what a strange terror she had grown to
dread the chimes.
She sat down now and opened Mrs. Peveril’s note. It treated chiefly
of the utterly astounding ways that untravelled old lady was meeting
with in foreign parts. “If you will believe me,” wrote she, “the girl
that waits on us wears carpet slippers down at heel, and a short
cotton jacket for best, and she puts the tea-tray before me with the
handle of the tea-pot turned to me and the spout standing
outwards, and she comes right into the bed-room of a morning with
Charles’s shaving-water without knocking.” But the one sentence
that arrested Mrs. Carradyne’s attention above any other was the
following: “I reckon that by this time you have grown well
acquainted with our esteemed young friend. He is a good, kindly
gentleman, and I’m sure never could have done anything to deserve
his wife’s treatment of him.”
“Can she mean Mr. Hamlyn?” debated Mrs. Carradyne, all sorts of
ideas leaping into her mind with a rush. “If not—what other
‘esteemed friend’ can she allude to?—she, old herself, would call him
young. But Mr. Hamlyn has not any wife. At least, had not until to-
day.”
She read the note over again. She sat with it open, buried in a
reverie, thinking no end of things, good and bad: and the conclusion
she at last came to was, that, with the unwonted exercise of letter-
writing, poor old Mrs. Peveril’s head had grown confused.
“Well, Hubert, did it all go off well?” she questioned, as her nephew
entered the room, some sort of excitement on his wasted face. “I
saw them drive away.”
“Yes, it went off well; there was no hitch anywhere,” replied Hubert.
“But, Aunt Emma, I have brought a friend home with me. Guess who
it is.”
“Some lady or other who came to see the wedding,” she returned. “I
can’t guess.”
“You never would, though I were to give you ten guesses; no,
though je vous donne en mille, as the French have it. What should
you say to a young man come all the way over seas from India?
There, that’s as good as telling you, Aunt Emma. Guess now.”
“Oh, Hubert!” clasping her trembling hands. “It cannot be Harry!
What is wrong?”
Harry brought his bright face into the room and was clasped in his
mother’s arms. She could not understand it one bit, and fears
assailed her. Come home in this unexpected manner! Had he left the
army? What had he done? What had he done? Hubert laughed and
told her then.
“He has done nothing wrong; everything that’s good. He has sold
out at my father’s request and left with honours—and is come home
the heir of Leet Hall. I said all along it was a shame to keep you out
of the plot, Aunt Emma.”
Well, it was glorious news for her. But, as if to tarnish its delight, like
an envious sprite of evil, deep down in her mind lay that other news,
just read—the ambiguous remark of old Mrs. Peveril’s.

IV

The walk on the old pier was pleasant enough in the morning sun.
Though yet but the first month in the year, the days were bright, the
blue skies without a cloud. Mr. and Mrs. Hamlyn had enjoyed the fine
weather at Cheltenham for a week or two; from that pretty place
they had now come to Brighton, reaching it the previous night.
“Oh, it is delightful!” exclaimed Eliza, gazing at the waves. She had
not seen the sea since she crossed it, a little girl, from the West
Indies. Those were not yet the days when all people, gentle and
simple, told one another that an autumn tour was essential to
existence. “Look at the sunbeams sparkling on the ripples and on
the white sails of the little boats! Philip, I should like to spend a
month here.”
“All right,” replied Mr. Hamlyn.
They were staying at the Old Ship, a fashionable hotel then for
ladies as well as gentlemen, and had come out after breakfast; and
they had the pier nearly to themselves at that early hour. A yellow,
gouty gentleman, who looked as if he had quarrelled with his liver in
some clime all fire and cayenne, stood at the end leaning on his
stick, alternately looking at the sea and listlessly watching any
advancing stragglers.
There came a sailor, swaying along, a rope in his hand; following
him, walked demurely three little girls in frocks and trousers, with
their French governess; then came two eye-glassed young men,
dandified and supercilious, who appeared to have more money than
brains—and the jaundiced man went into a gaping fit of lassitude.
Anyone else coming? Yes; a lady and gentleman arm-in-arm: quiet,
well-dressed, good-looking. As the invalid watched their approach, a
puzzled look of doubt and surprise rose to his countenance. Moving
forward a step or two on his gouty legs, he spoke.
“Can it be possible, Hamlyn, that we meet here?”
Even through his dark skin a red flush coursed into Mr. Hamlyn’s
face. He was evidently very much surprised in his turn, if not
startled.
“Captain Pratt!” he exclaimed.
“Major Pratt now,” was the answer, as they shook hands. “That
wretched climate played the deuce with me, and they graciously
gave me a step and allowed me to retire upon it. The very deuce, I
assure you, Philip. Beg pardon, ma’am,” he added, seeing the lady
look at him.
“My wife, Mrs. Hamlyn,” spoke her husband.
Major Pratt contrived to lift his hat, and bow: which feat, what with
his gouty hands and his helpless legs and his great invalid stick, was
a work of time. “I saw your marriage in the Times, Hamlyn, and
wondered whether it could be you, or not: I didn’t know, you see,
that you were over here. Wish you luck; and you also, ma’am. Hope
it will turn out more fortunate for you, Philip, than——”
“Where are you staying?” broke in Mr. Hamlyn, as if something were
frightening him.
“At some lodgings over yonder, where they fleece me,” replied the
Major. “You should see the bill they’ve brought me in for last week.
They’ve made me eat four pounds of butter and five joints of meat,
besides poultry and pickles and a fruit pie! Why, I live mostly upon
dry toast; hardly dare touch an ounce of meat in a day. When I had
’em up before me, the harpies, they laid it upon my servant’s
appetite—old Saul, you know. He answered them.”
Mrs. Hamlyn laughed. “There are two articles that are very
convenient, as I have heard, to some of the lodging-house keepers:
their lodgers’ servant, and their own cat.”
“By Jove, ma’am, yes!” said the Major. “But I’ve given warning to this
lot where I am.”
Saying au revoir to Major Pratt, Mr. Hamlyn walked down the pier
again with his wife. “Who is he, Philip?” she asked. “You seem to
know him well.”
“Very well. He is a sort of connection of mine, I believe,” laughed Mr.
Hamlyn, “and I saw a good deal of him in India a few years back. He
is greatly changed. I hardly think I should have known him had he
not spoken. It’s his liver, I suppose.”
Leaving his wife at the hotel, Mr. Hamlyn went back again to Major
Pratt, much to the lonely Major’s satisfaction, who was still leaning
on his substantial stick as he gazed at the water.
“The sight of you has brought back to my mind all that unhappy
business, Hamlyn,” was his salutation. “I shall have a fit of the
jaundice now, I suppose! Here—let’s sit down a bit.”
“And the sight of you has brought it to mine,” said Mr. Hamlyn, as he
complied. “I have been striving to drive it out of my remembrance.”
“I know little about it,” observed the Major. “She never wrote to me
at all afterwards, and you wrote me but two letters: the one
announcing the fact of her disgrace; the other, the calamity and the
deaths.”
“That is quite enough to know; don’t ask me to go over the details
to you personally,” said Mr. Hamlyn in a tone of passionate
discomfort. “So utterly repugnant to me is the remembrance
altogether, that I have never spoken of it—even to my present wife.”
“Do you mean you’ve not told her you were once a married man?”
cried Major Pratt.
“No, I have not.”
“Then you’ve shown a lack of judgment which I wouldn’t have given
you credit for, my friend,” declared the Major. “A man may whisper to
his girl any untoward news he pleases of his past life, and she’ll
forgive and forget; aye, and worship him all the more for it, though
it were the having set fire to a church: but if he keeps it as a bonne
bouchée to drop out after marriage, when she has him fast and
tight, she’ll curry-comb his hair for him in style. Believe that.”
Mr. Hamlyn laughed.
“There never was a hidden skeleton between man and wife yet but it
came to light sooner or later,” went on the Major. “If you are wise,
you will tell her at once, before somebody else does.”
“What ‘somebody?’ Who is there here that knows it?”
“Why, as to ‘here,’ I know it, and nearly spoke of it before her, as
you must have heard; and my servant knows it. That’s nothing,
you’ll say; we can be quiet, now I have the cue: but you are always
liable to meet with people who knew you in those days, and who
knew her. Take my advice, Philip Hamlyn, and tell your wife. Go and
do it now.”
“I daresay you are right,” said the younger man, awaking out of a
reverie. “Of the two evils it may be the lesser.” And with lagging
steps, and eyes that seemed to have weights to them, he set out to
walk back to the Old Ship Hotel.
 THE SILENT CHIMES

IV.—NOT HEARD

That oft-quoted French saying, a mauvais-quart-d’heure, is a

pregnant one, and may apply to small as well as to great worries of
life: most of us know it to our cost. But, rely upon it, one of the very
worst is that when a bride or bridegroom has to make a
disagreeable confession to the other, which ought to have been
made before going to church.
Philip Hamlyn was finding it so. Standing over the fire, in their
sitting-room at the Old Ship Hotel at Brighton, his elbow on the
mantelpiece, his hand shading his eyes, he looked down at his wife
sitting opposite him, and disclosed his tale: that when he married
her fifteen days ago he had not been a bachelor, but a widower.
There was no especial reason for his not having told her, save that
he hated and abhorred that earlier period of his life and instinctively
shunned its remembrance.
Sent to India by his friends in the West Indies to make his way in
the world, he entered one of the most important mercantile houses
in Calcutta, purchasing a lucrative post in it. Mixing in the best
society, for his introductions were undeniable, he in course of time
met with a young lady named Pratt, who had come out from
England to stay with her elderly cousins, Captain Pratt and his sister.
Philip Hamlyn was caught by her pretty doll’s face, and married her.
They called her Dolly: and a doll she was, by nature as well as by
name.
“Marry in haste and repent at leisure,” is as true a saying as the
French one. Philip Hamlyn found it so. Of all vain, frivolous, heartless
women, Mrs. Dolly Hamlyn turned out to be about the worst. Just a
year or two of uncomfortable bickering, of vain endeavours on his
part, now coaxing, now reproaching, to make her what she was not
and never would be—a reasonable woman, a sensible wife—and
Dolly Hamlyn fled. She decamped with a hair-brained lieutenant, the
two taking sailing-ship for England, and she carrying with her her
little one-year-old boy.
I’ll leave you to guess what Philip Hamlyn’s sensations were. A
calamity such as that does not often fall upon man. While he was
taking steps to put his wife legally away for ever and to get back his
child, and Captain Pratt was aiding and abetting (and swearing
frightfully at the delinquent over the process), news reached them
that Heaven’s vengeance had been more speedy than theirs. The
ship, driven out of her way by contrary winds and other disasters,
went down off the coast of Spain, and all the passengers on board
perished. This was what Philip Hamlyn had to confess now: and it
was more than silly of him not to have done it before.
He touched but lightly upon it now. His tones were low, his words
when he began somewhat confused: nevertheless his wife, gazing
up at him with her large dark eyes, gathered an inkling of his
meaning.
“Don’t tell it me!” she passionately interrupted. “Do not tell me that I
am only your second wife.”
He went over to her, praying her to be calm, speaking of the bitter
feeling of shame which had ever since clung to him.
“Did you divorce her?”
“No, no; you do not understand me, Eliza. She died before anything
could be done; the ship was wrecked.”
“Were there any children?” she asked in a hard whisper.
“One; a baby of a year old. He was drowned with his mother.”
Mrs. Hamlyn folded her hands one over the other, and leaned back
in her chair. “Why did you deceive me?”
“My will was good to deceive you for ever,” he confessed with
emotion. “I hate that past episode in my life; hate to think of it: I
wish I could blot it out of remembrance. But for Pratt I should not
have told you now.”
“Oh, he said you ought to tell me?”
“He did: and blamed me for not having told you already.”
“Have you any more secrets of the past that you are keeping from
me?”
“None. Not one. You may take my honour upon it, Eliza. And now let
us——”
She had started forward in her chair; a red flush darkening her pale
cheeks. “Philip! Philip! am I legally married? Did you describe
yourself as a bachelor in the license?”
“No, as a widower. I got the license in London, you know.”
“And no one read it?”
“No one save he who married us: Robert Grame, and I don’t
suppose he noticed it.”
Robert Grame! The flush on Eliza’s cheeks grew deeper.
“Did you love her?”
“I suppose I thought so when I married her. It did not take long to
disenchant me,” he added with a harsh laugh.
“What was her Christian name?”
“Dolly. Dora, I believe, by register. My dear wife, I have told you all.
In compassion to me let us drop the subject, now and for ever.”
Was Eliza Hamlyn—sitting there with pale, compressed lips, sullen
eyes, and hands interlocked in pain—already beginning to reap the
fruit she had sown as Eliza Monk by her rebellious marriage?
Perhaps so. But not as she would have to reap it later on.
Mr. and Mrs. Hamlyn spent nearly all that year in travelling. In
September they came to Peacock’s Range, taking it furnished for a
term of old Mr. and Mrs. Peveril, who had not yet come back to it. It
stood midway, as may be remembered, between Church Leet and
Church Dykely, so that Eliza was close to her old home. Late in
October a little boy was born: it would be hard to say which was the
prouder of him, Philip Hamlyn or his wife.
“What would you like his name to be?” Philip asked her one day.
“I should like it to be Walter,” said Mrs. Hamlyn.
“Walter!”
“Yes. I like the name to begin with, but I once had a dear little
brother named Walter, just a year younger than I. He died before we
came home to England. Have you any objection to the name?”
“Oh, no, no objection,” he slowly said. “I was only thinking whether
you would have any. It was the name given to my first child.”
“That can make no possible difference—it was not my child,” was her
haughty answer. So the baby was named Walter James; the latter
name also chosen by Eliza, because it had been old Mr. Monk’s.
In the following spring Mr. Hamlyn had to go to the West Indies.
Eliza remained at home; and during this time she became reconciled
to her father.
Hubert brought it about. For Hubert lived yet. But he was a mere
shadow and had to take entirely to the house, and soon to his room.
Eliza came to see him, again and again; and finally over Hubert’s
sofa peace was made—for Captain Monk loved her still, just as he
had loved Katherine, for all her rebellion.
Hubert lingered on to the summer. And then, on a calm evening,
when one of the glorious sunsets that he had so loved to look upon
was illumining the western sky, opening up to his dying view, as he
had once said, the very portals of Heaven, he passed peacefully
away to his rest.

II

The next change that set in at Leet Hall concerned Miss Kate
Dancox. That wilful young pickle, somewhat sobered by the death of
Hubert in the summer, soon grew unbearable again. She had
completely got the upper hand of her morning governess, Miss
Hume—who walked all the way from Church Dykely and back again
—and of nearly everyone else; and Captain Monk gave forth his
decision one day when all was turbulence—a resident governess.
Mrs. Carradyne could have danced a reel for joy, and wrote to a
governess agency in London.
One morning about this time (which was already glowing with the
tints of autumn) a young lady got out of an omnibus in Oxford
Street, which had brought her from a western suburb of London,
paid the conductor, and then looked about her.
“There!” she exclaimed in a quaint tone of vexation, “I have to cross
the street! and how am I to do it?”
Evidently she was not used to the bustle of London streets or to
crossing them alone. She did it, however, after a few false starts,
and so turned down a quiet side street and rang the bell of a house
in it. A slatternly girl answered the ring.
“Governess-agent—Mrs. Moffit? Oh, yes; first-floor front,” said she
crustily, and disappeared.
The young lady found her way upstairs alone. Mrs. Moffit sat in state
in a big arm-chair, before a large table and desk, whence she daily
dispensed joy or despair to her applicants. Several opened letters
and copies of the daily journals lay on the table.
“Well?” cried she, laying down her pen, “what for you?”
“I am here by your appointment, made with me a week ago,” said
the young lady. “This is Thursday.”
“What name?” cried Mrs. Moffit sharply, turning over rapidly the
leaves of a ledger.
“Miss West. If you remember, I——”
“Oh, yes, child, my memory’s good enough,” was the tart
interruption. “But with so many applicants it’s impossible to be
certain as to faces. Registered names we can’t mistake.”
Mrs. Moffit read her notes—taken down a week ago. “Miss West.
Educated in first-class school at Richmond; remained in it as teacher.
Very good references from the ladies keeping it. Father, Colonel in
India.”
“But——”
“You do not wish to go into a school again?” spoke Mrs. Moffit,
closing the ledger with a snap, and peremptorily drowning what the
applicant was about to say.
“Oh, dear, no, I am only leaving to better myself, as the maids say,”
replied the young lady, smiling.
“And you wish for a good salary?”
“If I can get it. One does not care to work hard for next to nothing.”
“Or else I have—let me see—two—three situations on my books.
Very comfortable, I am instructed, but two of them offer ten pounds
a-year, the other twelve.”
The young lady drew herself slightly up with an involuntary
movement. “Quite impossible, madam, that I could take any one of
them.”
Mrs. Moffit picked up a letter and consulted it, looking at the young
lady from time to time, as if taking stock of her appearance. “I
received a letter this morning from the country—a family require a
well-qualified governess for their one little girl. Your testimonials as
to qualifications might suit—and you are, I believe, a gentlewoman
——”
“Oh, yes; my father was——”
“Yes, yes, I remember—I’ve got it down; don’t worry me,”
impatiently spoke the oracle, cutting short the interruption. “So far
you might suit: but in other respects—I hardly know what to think.”
“But why?” asked the other timidly, blushing a little under the intent
gaze.
“Well, you are very young, for one thing; and they might think you
too good-looking.”
The girl’s blush grew red as a rose; she had delicate features and it
made her look uncommonly pretty. A half-smile sat in her soft, dark
hazel eyes.
“Surely that could not be an impediment. I am not so good-looking
as all that!”
“That’s as people may think,” was the significant answer. “Some
families will not take a pretty governess—afraid of their sons, you
see. This family says nothing about looks; for aught I know there
may be no sons in it. ‘Thoroughly competent’—reading from the
letter—‘a gentlewoman by birth, of agreeable manners and lady-like.
Salary, first year, to be forty pounds.’”
“And will you not recommend me?” pleaded the young governess,
her voice full of entreaty. “Oh, please do! I know I should be found
fully competent, and promise you that I would do my best.”
“Well, there may be no harm in my writing to the lady about you,”
decided Mrs. Moffit, won over by the girl’s gentle respect—with
which she did not get treated by all her clients. “Suppose you come
here again on Monday next?”
The end of the matter was that Miss West was engaged by the lady
mentioned—no other than Mrs. Carradyne. And she journeyed down
into Worcestershire to enter upon the situation.
But clever (and generally correct) Mrs. Moffit made one mistake,
arising, no doubt, from the chronic state of hurry she was always in.
“Miss West is the daughter of the late Colonel William West,” she
wrote, “who went to India with his regiment a few years ago, and
died there.” What Miss West had said to her was this: “My father, a
clergyman, died when I was a little child, and my uncle William,
Colonel West, the only relation I had left, died three years ago in
India.” Mrs. Moffit somehow confounded the two.
This might not have mattered on the whole. But, as you perceive, it
conveyed a wrong impression at Leet Hall.
“The governess I have engaged is a Miss West; her father was a
military man and a gentleman,” spake Mrs. Carradyne one morning
at breakfast to Captain Monk. “She is rather young—about twenty, I
fancy; but an older person might never get on at all with Kate.”
“Had good references with her, I suppose?” said the Captain.
“Oh, yes. From the agent, and especially from the ladies who have
brought her up.”
“Who was her father, do you say?—a military man?”
“Colonel William West,” assented Mrs. Carradyne, referring to the
letter she held. “He went to India with his regiment and died there.”
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