HER OWN PEOPLE By Mrs. B. M. CROKER Author of "Diana Barrington," "Beyond the Pale," "Peggy of the Bartons," "Terence," "The Catspaw," etc. London: Hurst and Blackett, Limited Paternoster House, E.C. DEDICATION. TO EDITH M. VINCENT, WITH THE AUTHOR'S LOVE [Illustration: "God pardon me and give me rest."] HER OWN PEOPLE CHAPTER I "Oh yes! I know what it is to be hard up myself! I'm hard up now!--but I'll help you in another way. You must marry, Malcolm, my boy! Leave it to me, and I'll find you a rich wife!" In making the foregoing boastful promise, Sir Horace Haig raised a naturally harsh voice, and all but shouted his officious announcement. The empty air seemed to echo the words, "rich wife"--"rich wife," their regular measured tread to repeat, "rich wife"--"rich wife," as the two men, uncle and nephew, hurried down a by-street in Homburg. There was good reason for haste, a neighbouring clock was chiming the hour, and already they were unfashionably late for the morning ceremonies at the Elisabeth Brunnen. "But----" began the prospective Benedict, in a doubtful tone. "My grandfather used to say," interrupted his uncle, in a loud authoritative key, "that a man should marry young, and marry often. He had four wives!" "And you, sir, have not had one!" rejoined his companion, with unexpected audacity. "Oh--ah--well, yes--that is true--but the fact is, I had an unhappy love affair--(a fiction invented on the spot)--a--a--blighted life--a blighted life!!--it is a--a painful subject." Here Sir Horace suddenly turned into a narrow footpath, where, as it was necessary to walk in single file, awkward questions were evaded, or postponed. The subject of "a blighted life" was a spruce, straight-backed gentleman of sixty, with a large hooked nose, and two keen little blue eyes, sheltered by a pair of beetling brows; he dressed in a careful middle-aged style, and wore his clothes, and his years, with ease. Sir Horace was the seventh Baronet--a resolute old bachelor, who enjoyed a comfortable income, and was on the committee of the Bellona Club. He claimed an immense acquaintance, and was fairly popular, being recognised as a fine judge of a vintage, or a cook, and one of the best bridge players in London. It is painful to add that he was incredibly selfish, and never expended a shilling on any more deserving object than Horace Haig, Baronet, and yet, in a hearty jovial fashion, he contrived to extract an astonishing amount of hospitality and favours, from other people!