Alice Lorraine: A Tale of the South Downs

								

character, might be expected to coincide with the succession of these
names. The Rolands were always kindly proud, fond of home and of their
own people, lovers of a quiet life, and rather deep than hot of heart.
A Hilary, the next of race, was prone to the opposite extremes, though
still of the same root-fibre. Sir Hilary was always showy, affable,
and romantic, eager to do something great, pleased to give pleasure to
everybody, and leaving his children to count the cost. After him there
ought to arise a Roger, the saviour of the race; beginning to count
pence in his cradle, and growing a yard in common-sense for every inch
of his stature, frowning at every idea that was not either of land or
money, and weighing himself and his bride, and most of his principles,
by troy-weight.

CHAPTER IV.
FATHER AND FAVOURITE.

Upon a very important day (as it proved to be, in his little world),
the 18th of June, 1811, Sir Roland Lorraine had enjoyed his dinner with
his daughter Alice. In those days men were not content to feed in the
fashion of owls, or wild ducks, who have lain abed all day. In winter
or summer, at Coombe Lorraine, the dinner-bell rang at half-past four,
for people to dress; and again at five, for all to be down in the
drawing-room. And all were sure to be prompt enough; for the air of the
Southdown hills is hungry; and Nature knew what the demand would be,
before she supplied her best mutton there.
When the worthy old butler was gone at last, and the long dark room lay
silent, Alice ran up to her father’s side, to wish him, over a sip of
wine, the good old wish that sits so lightly on the lips of children.
“Darling papa, I wish you many happy, happy returns of the day, and
good health to enjoy them.”
Sir Roland was sixty years old that day; and being of a cheerful, even,
and pleasant, though shy temperament, he saw no reason why he should
not have all the bliss invoked on him. The one great element in that
happiness now was looking at him, undeniably present and determined to
remain so.
His quick glance told that he felt all this; but he was not wont to
show what he felt; and now he had no particular reason to feel more
than usual. Nevertheless he did so feel, without knowing any reason,
and turned his eyes away from hers, while he tried to answer lightly.
This would not do for his daughter Alice. She was now in that blush of
time, when everything is observed by maidens, but everything is not
hinted at. At least it used to be so then, and still is so in good
places. Therefore Alice thought a little, before she began to talk
again. The only trouble, to her knowledge, which her father had to deal
with, was the unstable and romantic character of young Hilary. This he
never discussed with her, nor even alluded to it; for that would have
been a breach of the law in all duly-entailed conservatism, that the
heir of the house, even though a fool, must have his folly kept sacred