Lady Ongar Takes Possession

I do not know that there is in England a more complete gentleman’s residence than Ongar Park, nor could there be one in better repair, or more fit for immediate habitation than was that house when it came into the hands of the young widow.  The park was not large, containing about sixty or seventy acres.  But there was a home-farm attached to the place, which also now belonged to Lady Ongar for her life, and which gave to the park itself an appearance of extent which it would otherwise have wanted.  The house, regarded as a nobleman’s mansion, was moderate in size, but it was ample for the requirements of any ordinarily wealthy family.  The dining-room, library, drawing-rooms, and breakfast-room, were all large and well-arranged.  The hall was handsome and spacious, and the bed-rooms were sufficiently numerous to make an auctioneer’s mouth water.  But the great charm of Ongar Park lay in the grounds immediately round the house, which sloped down from the terrace before the windows to a fast-running stream which was almost hidden—­but was not hidden—­by the shrubs on its bank.  Though the domain itself was small, the shrubberies and walks were extensive.  It was a place costly to maintain in its present perfect condition, but when that was said against it, all was said against it which its bitterest enemies could allege.

But Lady Ongar, with her large jointure, and with no external expenses whatever, could afford this delight without imprudence.  Everything in and about the place was her own, and she might live there happily, even in the face of the world’s frowns, if she could teach herself to find happiness in rural luxuries.  On her immediate return to England, her lawyer had told her that he found there would be opposition to her claim, and that an attempt would be made to keep the house out of her hands.  Lord Ongar’s people would, he said, bribe her to submit to this by immediate acquiescence, as to her income.  But she had declared that she would not submit—­that she would have house and income and all; and she had been successful.  “Why should I surrender what is my own?” she said, looking the lawyer full in the face.  The lawyer had not dared to tell her that her opponents—­Lord Ongar’s heirs—­had calculated on her anxiety to avoid exposure; but she knew that that was meant.  “I have nothing to fear from them,” she said, “and mean to claim what is my own by my settlement.”  There had, in truth, been no ground for disputing her right, and the place was given up before she had been three months in England.  She at once went down and took possession, and there she was, alone, when her sister was communicating to Harry Clavering her plan about Captain Archie.