“And now, Mr. Forster, you have told me how London looks; tell me something about my cousin, Mr. Carruthers.”

He made some indifferent answer, and as he did so, he thought to himself: 

“Can it be possible, that with a chance of winning this lovely girl—­one of the richest heiresses in London—­that Basil Carruthers has given his heart to some worthless creature, who has spent his money and helped him to prison?”

A question that, if our readers will kindly follow us, we will answer in the succeeding chapters.

CHAPTER VI.

Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.

There was no man of greater note in England than the late Royston Carruthers, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Rutsford.  He was one of the ablest statesmen and finest orators in England.  He had been returned for the Borough of Rutsford for many years, without opposition.  To hear him make a speech was a decided treat; a handsome man of stately presence, he invested every word with new dignity.  The grand volume of sound rolled on in one continuous stream; the ideas he expressed were noble, the sentiments patriotic and exalted; his gestures were full of animation and grace.

Royston Carruthers had done great service to his country in his time.  He had advocated several important measures; his eloquence had facilitated the introduction of several bills; his country thought well of him, and for a wonder, was grateful to him.

Government offered him the title of Baron Rutsford of Rutsford, and he had declined it, saying that his ancestors had for years asked no higher title than that of Lord of the Manor, and he valued his name—­Carruthers of Ulverston—­too highly to ever exchange it for another.

In the very pride and zenith of his prosperity he married the Lady Hildegarde Blenholme, the only daughter of the Duke of Blenholme.  She was a very beautiful and accomplished woman—­proud to a fault, but generous and noble in disposition.  They had one child, Basil, and while he was yet a boy, his father died, worn out with work and over-exertion.  He left his wife, Lady Hildegarde Carruthers, sole guardian of the boy, expressing a wish that she should bring him up to resemble herself in mind and disposition as far as it was possible.

Three years after the great statesman’s death, a cousin of Lady Hildegarde died, leaving her only child, Marion Hautville, under the sole care and guardianship of the mistress of Ulverston Priory.

“Bring her up as you would a daughter of your own,” wrote the dying mother.  “She has a large fortunes—­save her from fortune-hunters.”

And Lady Carruthers, scrupulously carried out her kinswoman’s wish.  She took the girl to her own home, Ulverston Priory; she superintended her education; she brought her up in simple, refined habits—­succeeded in making of her a perfect lady and a noble woman.