We shall meet with Berenice, Countess of Hurstmonceux, again; but it
will be in another sphere, and under other circumstances.
It was in the spring succeeding her departure that the house-agents and
attorneys came down to appraise and sell Brudenell Hall. Since the
improvements bestowed upon the estate by Lady Hurstmonceux, the property
had increased its value, so that a purchaser could not at once be found.
When this fact was communicated to Mr. Brudenell, in London, he wrote
and authorized his agent to let the property to a responsible tenant,
and if possible to hire the plantation negroes to the same party who
should take the house.
All this after a while was successfully accomplished. A gentleman from a
neighboring State took the house, all furnished as it was, and hired all
the servants of the premises.
He came early in June, but who or what he was, or whence he came, none
of the neighbors knew. The arrival of any stranger in a remote country
district is always the occasion of much curiosity, speculation, and
gossip. But when such a one brings the purse of Fortunatus in his
pocket, and takes possession of the finest establishment in the
country--house, furniture, servants, carriages, horses, stock and all,
he becomes the subject of the wildest conjecture.
It does not require long to get comfortably to housekeeping in a
ready-made home; so it was soon understood in the neighborhood that the
strangers were settled in their new residence, and might be supposed to
be ready to receive calls.
But the neighbors, though tormented with curiosity, cautiously held
aloof, and waited until the Sabbath, when they might expect to see the
newcomers, and judge of their appearance and hear their pastor's opinion
of them.
So, on the first Sunday after the stranger's settlement at Brudenell
Hall the Baymouth Church was crowded to excess. But those of the
congregation who went there with other motives than to worship their
Creator were sadly disappointed. The crimson-lined Brudenell pew
remained vacant, as it had remained for several years.
"Humph! not church-going people, perhaps! We had an English Jewess
before, perhaps we shall have a Turkish Mohammedan next!" was the
speculation of one of the disappointed.
The conjecture proved false.
The next Sunday the Brudenell pew was filled. There was a gentleman and
lady, and half-a-dozen girls and boys, all dressed in half-mourning,
except one little lady of about ten years old, whose form was enveloped
in black bombazine and crape, and whose face, what could be seen of it,
was drowned in tears. It needed no seer to tell that she was just left
motherless, and placed in charge of her relations.