THE
SECOND MRS. TILLOTSON.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "NEVER FORGOTTEN."

BOOK I.

CHAPTER XVIII. THE DEAN'S PARTY.

WHEN the result of the trial was known,
there was a marked reaction in favour of the
plaintiff. The little public of the place did not
care to consider Serjeant Ryder's "bill of
exceptions," or the "points" he had saved, but only
looked to the substantial fact of the verdict. It
took every one by surprise; and every one was
now lost in admiration of the spirit, energy,
"pluck," and "gameness" with which young
Ross had held on to his purpose, in spite of all
advice and obstacles—even the great Doctor
Topham, who had always shown an angry
contempt for him, and said openly, "The fellow
had neither wit, brains, nor sense!"

Later, Mr. Tilney came to his friend with
somewhat more hopeful views of human nature.
"Here's that dean—Ridley, you know, Lord
Rooksby's brother—has sent us this for
tomorrow night. You are to come. Mrs. Ridley
saw you last Sunday at the sermon, and asked
who you were."

"I never care," said Mr. Tillotson—"I never
go to parties. I fear I shall be going away."

"Nonsense. I am very glad of this," said
Mr. Tilney; "it will amuse us. They do the
thing very well at that house, I can tell you.
I hear the Secretary is coming down to them
to-night, and I suppose they want to make
what they can of him. The poor Dook had a
kind of seafaring chaplain—Bowdler—that could
swear now and again, saving your presence. I
could tell you something about him, uncommon
good too, but the mistress is waiting. They
are all to go. We'll make a little party of it,
and go together. Do, now. We do these sort
of things, you see, better here; and," he added,
confidentially, "that is why I would sooner live
here in plain St. Alans than in all your racketing
London rout. That did very well, Tillotson,
fifty years ago, but I want a little breathing
time between this and the little vault over
there." This he delivered sonorously, like the
close of a chant.

The dean, who had preached for the Mariners
on the Sunday, was indeed brother to Lord
Rooksby; and though the mere knowledge of
the relationship fetched the price it ought to do
in this provincial market, still it was felt that
by the occasional exhibition of the noble relative,
much greater profit might have been turned
out of this little capital. For a time there is an
awe and reverence among the rustics, from the
expectation that the noble ghost may walk at
any hour. But soon a feeling of security, and
then utter incredulity, arrives. This was the
tone of the public mind as to Dean Ridley's
noble brother.

The deanery was an old house, with an
enormous roof, like one of the steep stands the
dean himself read from in the cathedral, with
two tall chimneys at each side, also very like
the lights at the side of the stand. It stood by
itself in a garden, and had tall lanky windows,
with many little panes in each; altogether,
with a rusted ancient French château air over
it, and with the kind of dim reference to the
cathedral an old retainer has to an old family.

The Very Rev. Lord Rooksby's brother had,
however, put it in thorough repair when his noble
brother's interest had brought him the deanery
(of course charging his predecessor's executors
with dilapidation, and his own successors with
restorations), and out of his own resources had
fitted up the house very handsomely. Mrs.
Dean and the Miss Deans having got down
Lord Rooksby for a day or two, had determined
to "cash," discount, mortgage, and exhibit that
noble person in every possible way that profit
could be made, or a penny of social pride
"turned" on him.

The dean himself was a mild and amiable man,
but whose life was literally a burden to him,
from the joint terrorism exercised by Mrs.
Ridley and Doctor Topham. With Mrs. Ridley
singly he might have dealt; against Doctor
Topham and his rude tyranny, his connexion
with the Treasury, and his secret influence with
the bishop, he might have made some stand;
but the cabals of the place, and the confusion
brought by Doctor Topham's dislikes and
despotism, his proclaimed purpose to get this man
and that man "out," harassed and worried him
beyond belief.

He had been taught by Mrs. Ridley to like
good society, and he would have liked it, had he
been allowed; for on visits at "good houses"
he found some peace and quiet, after the
distractions of his own. And now, Mrs. Ridley having