THE
SKETCH BOOK OF FASHION .
BY THE amen or
“MOTHERS AN D DAUGHT ERS.
”
Investme inmymotley ; giveme leaveTo speakmymind, and I Wlll through and throughCleanse the foul body of th
’ infected world.
A: You Like E.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL.
’
I.
THE SECOND MARRIAGE.
MY PLACE IN THE COUNTRY.
THE PAVILION.
NEW -Y ORK
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY HARPER. BROTHERS,
No. 82 CHE-sweet,
AI D BOLD I t i n I OOKI ELLI RS GI NERALLY THROUGHOUT
TB ! 0!"l STATES.
PRE F A CE .
Tn ] : following Tales formthe last of a series of Nevels, of
a class created by the peculiar spirit of the last reign , and
man ifestly at variance with that of the present times. Thesesketchy performances, although favoured w ith critical praise
fir beyond their pretensions or deserts, have in some instancesbeen blamed for pungency of satire, and in some for a char
acter of levity. To both charges the writer is willing to
plead guilty. The only apology admissible for a fashionablenovel, is the successful exposure of vices and follies dailyand hourly generated by the corruptions of society,
Safe fromthe bar, the pul i ,t and the throne,And touch’d and shamed y ridicule alone :
by ridicule,—which, ifno longeradmitted ao-the testofTruth,
may be assayed in its turn by that only sterling standard.
The sketches contained in Mothers and Daughters are
sanctioned as correct, by the very class most interested intheir refutation .
Nor is a plea of extenuation wanting for the tone of
frivolity pervading their pages.—The first object of even the
severest moralist is to command attention for his lessons
andmodern society, which refuses to hear the voice of the
charmer, charmhe ever so wisely, is well known to lend
ready attention to the charmings of the light and gay .—If a
single absurdity,—a single error,
—have given way before
the extended finger of these“ laughing satires,
”the object of
the writer is fully accomplished.
ru t n oon» au tu mn. 3
CHAPTER,i.
53.A
2} {Tu and Pen
ouAnow theCornishmen.
OLDAmos .
Juan m the only daughter of Mr. Trevelyan . But
although her father’s county may be,
h plied in his pat
ronymw, his fortune and condition must remain problemafical, unless the reader
’smind is set at rest by the assurance
that he was rich in five thousand per annum, somewhatmoresubstantially founded than Cornish fortunes.
in general ;and in a landed estate which would have lookedmuch betteron Stanfield
’s canvas than in its rude reality. Trevel
Hall and. its surrounding landscape were, in fact, so mucmore picturesque than pleasing to their hereditary denizen,that no sooner did the general pacification of Europe sane
tion themeasure, than Mr. Trevelyan caused its rocks andwoods and waterfalls to be Specified in langua e farmoreefllorescmt than the soil which gave thema loca habitation ,—inserted in the folios of Bates and Gillow , as To be let
for a termof years,” -and without waiting for a lessee, who
mi ht be some time inmaking his way to the Land’s End,
6 Squire, Squiress, and their only daughter, departedfromKirkham’s Hotel, in Lower Brook-street. on a tour ofthe Continent
”.
The fieldwas awide one ; the heroine admirably qualifiedto feel and increase its vast variety of interests. Julia was
scarce
lyeighteen ; handsome, intelligent, and good-hue
moure w ith the lustre of youth still beaming in hercharacter and countenance. unimpaired by the vigils and
afl'
ectatigns of London life. Julia Trevelyan had, indeed, asmuch cause for gaiety, both of heart andmanners, as can be
fl B “CURB ”Li l l i .“
to worry her a nd rhimself to death, whenever her fingerached ; and hermother to live amartyr to imaginary evils
hereafter likely to assail the soledaughter of herhouse and
heart.” Mr. Trevelyan was in a perpetual tremor lest Julia
should die and leave himchildless ; Mrs. Trevelyan in an
unceasing flurry lest by some omission, somematernal negligence, a weak point should be leftunguarded in her dough
ter’s destinies, where sorrowmight break in or the troubles
of life gain footing,'
to molest this bright exemption horn thesentence of fallen humanity . Between both, and solely in
their excess ‘ of seal to secure her health and happi‘wss, the
poorgirl was fairly plagued to death.
The wholemischief arose fromtheir want of better occu
pation. The aimand his'wife had no employment eitherformind or y. He was neither a reading man nor a
sportsman ; she was neither afflicted with amusical taste,nor a betanical, -nor a puritanical ; planted no gardens,superintended no~8unday schools ; na
ly, shehad not somuch
or a pet albumoverw ich to potter away her
When little Julia was rescued at last fromPapa andBuchan, fromthe villa e apothecary and familymedicinechest, to be inaugurated into the mysteries of the schoolroomo 0
:newera dawned upon or stupid Mrs. Trevelyan,
redoublmg her estimation thgimportance of maternalnature. She d
o
'
at length something to do, besides losingher he M id themagain .
‘She came to be'
consultedabout alt-boards d stocks, grammars, and dictionaries,Goalie and Edgworth.! H'
s? opinion was as re larly f akedbvthe new governess not: it had been worth'
ving ; andMiss Wilmot
,(luring the twelve years she sided over
Julia‘ s educati on, actually O
managed to hate ownmth her papl l, by adtng the lady Of the Hall that waywas of her own exc nerve pointing out ; thatnot a incushion
was lanned, nor a sonata selected, except under or special
3 w ha t:Old Trevelyan , indeed, occasionally interfered
in the realm of the‘
future heiress of his honours ; pre
s lut n oose I ARRIAGB. 7
ground-rice pudding instead of whole, and advisedin alternation withmutton-broth. He even insisted
studies to which he
Miss TrevAt first,
parents to worthy of the auspicious destinies
already provided for her. Theelaboration of stud to whichshe was subjected purported only to qualify her {gr her sta
tion in her own county and country, as the heiress of Trovelyan Hall. But no sooner was themiracle accomplished,no sooner was her father convinced that (without havingattained the long
-predicted Spine complaint) she had been
inademistress of several languages, and that her drawings
and etchin s, bravuras and ballads, fairly warranted the
annuity sett uponMissWilmoton her dismissal fromofiice,than he, discovered that she was much too good, fair, andclever for the atmosphere of Cornwall. His heiress had aright to become somethingmore distinguished than hismenheiress. N0 one in the neighbourhood was worthy of herhand. Julia must see the world, must visit foreign coun
tries ; and whereas a rolonged tour on the continent promised an extension 0 her father and mother’s domestichappiness by delaying her settlement in life, the project ofgoing abroad for a year or two, was readil adapted in lieu
of their triennial visit to London . Wit a huge patent
medicine chest, and pocket editions of Mrs. Chapons andGregory
’s Legac they accordingly entered the travelling
carnage about to come their home ; and although, the
time t ey rattled out of the court rd of Quillacq’s atel,
poor Jul1a had discovered that the urry of travelling wouldnot emancipate her fromthe troubles of her filial estate somuch as she had hoped, it was indeed delightful to be re
leased fromthe one gravel walk to which her daily exerciseat T‘ velyan Park had been formany years restricted ; andthe early to bed and early to rise, -the bread and butter
breakfasts and roastmutton dinners, -swallowed on the un
silenceable authority of the great turret-clock, by which allher proceedings,moral and active, had been regulated fromher childhood upwards.
8 was sacos u r u nn er.
CHAPTER II.
A cheerful temper, joined with innocence, makes beauty attractive,knowledge delightful, and wat good natured. Annrson .
Ta n Trevelyans, visiting the continent for somewhatmore than the usual purpose of catching a glimpw of theLouvre, crossing the Simplon, gaping at the Dudmo and
St. Peter’s, and returning through Paris for the purpose of
smuggling over a collection of Herbault’s last,—had wiselyprovided themselves w ith the best letters of introduction . It
was their intention, after passing the summer in Switzerland, to w inter in Florence ; Mr. Trevelyan
'having taken
it into his nervous head that it was necessary to attemperJulia’s constitution to the fervid suns of Italy, before he permitted her to bask in the utmost blaze of the sweet south.
In Florence, accordingly, they were very soon settled.
The lovely and gifted beires was accounted a charmingacquisition to the musical circle of the embass and thetheatricals of the Normanb s ; where even the ypochon
driso father and prosy mother were excused and accepted,in favour of a beautifu l girl in the entail of a
'
fine estate andthe possession of a host of charms. The Carnival came,w ith its sugar lumbs and balls, and Miss Trevelyan t theclose of its enc antments found herself on the road to noon
for the bathing season - having refused an Irish baronet,a Cumberland squ ire travelling to be polished, —eu honourable Colonel of grenadiers on his way to join his regimentat Corfu ,—and a little chicken-faced lordling far gone inconsumption , and bear-led by a reverend dominic , who already carried in his pocket the programme of his pu il
’s
funeral ceremonies. Of these adorers, Julia laughed1
at
some, and with others ; sincerely regretting that there was,
rns snoortn trans i ent . 9
rit enough among the whole squadron to formone
0 hero of romance ; an that she was compelled toforth into the land of poesy, without having imbibed
a little touch of sentiment to animate the landscape intobrighter beauty, and lend new softness to the language ofore,
Julia was gratified to perceive that her father and motherhad no imention of parting with her on terms ; but shelittle knew how indispensable she was to t em, as a tenant
for their empty hearts. In her childhood, the anxieties ofher teething, measles, whooping-cough and scarlatina, hadkept their feelings fromstagnation t
—Mr. Trevelyan hadbeen saved froma severe fit of blue devils, one rainy winterin Cornwall, by an alarmof small-pox ; and Mrs. T. hadderived all the trg ic interest of her life, fromthe duty ofsupervising Julia
’s interviews with the dentist, and first ex
patience of her pen But never had she been so valuableto either, even at e crisis of her typhus fever, as now ;when the dai ly arrival of some new adorer afl
'
orded themsircasion for new alarms, new investigations, new inquiriestouching the endowments, temporal and spiritual. of theaspiranb—The excitement was delightfulWith such a treasure to dispose of,
” whispered poorMrs. T. to hor.friend the Down erLadyWadham, as they sat
gossipping togetherarena of Torlonia’s soirées, “I feel thatI cannot be too vigilant. Onemeets with soman adven e
turers on the continent, even in the best society ; and declareI never feel easy when I see Julia dancing W ith a stranger.till I have informedmyself of his name, nation, and all thatisknown r ting himf
—Ah l m dear LadyWadham. itis an awfu l cfir e to have an only 11 hter I”“So I should imagine,” replied the o d lady, who possess.
ed about asmuch sensibility as the velvet fauteuil in whichshe was seated. I amsure my five girls never gave mesomuch uneasiness, all put to ether, asMiss Trevelyan doesyou. Yetmine were and wil creatures. and we lived near
aglq
rrison town -while your daughter appears prudenceltse“Very true.my dearMadam. B ut one should do one
’s
tpprevent a young creature fromfalling in mischi ef”s
way.
And pray, who is that very handsome piece ofmischiefinMiss Trevelyan
’s way just now t—J ’
10 was es conomu mIAGE.
I left her in the other roomdancing with the yo
Duke of Brancaleone.
”
Then I suppose she grew tired of him; for therestands,
”continued Lady Wadham, raising her glass to her
eye, in earnest conversation with a very fine you ng man,
whomI never saw before -t1tere, next to the old Mara
chioness in the yellow turban .
God blessmy sou l —who can he possiblybe 2”exclaim
ed Mrs. Trevelyan , i'
a rising agitation . W'
ho can have in
troduced himtomy daughter i—They are talking together
very familiarly on so short an acquaintance ; Imust Speak toMr. Trevel an about it.—Mr. Trevelyan n
'
ever allows Juliato be introduced to people w ithou t his previous sanction
Where can Mr. Trevelyan be He ought to bemade awareof what is going on .
—My dear Lady°Wadham, ou don ’
t
happen to see Mr. Trevelyan any where i—Rea ly Juliashould bemore guarded. She is
‘
no longer achild.
‘
She is
old enough to be aware of the imprudence of committing herself by making promiscuous acquaintance. I wish I cou ld
find Mr. Trevelyan .
”
similar anxi ety on the part of the Squ ire soon brought
himfrom,the further end of the room, to reci ocate his in
qu iries respecting Julia’s new partner ; but t eir united in
Vestigation yielded no firrtheri nformation than thathe was anowveau débarqué, just arrived fromEngland.
Perhaps itma turn out to be the young Lord Avenmore,” whisperedhi ts. toMr. T. I know he is bringing us
letters fromou r friends in Yorkshire.
Or perhaps it is the new attaché who is expected to passthrough, on the Neapolitan Mission . I received a hint about
himfromthe Turbervilles. Lord Durlin on’s second son ;
but with hismother’s fortune settled uponhimto the amountof five-and-twenty thousand a year. To be sure the Dur
lingtons are
1people of a very suspicious complexion ; I
should scarce y like In . to marry into. a family with that
clear transparent skin Theremust be‘
pthisis or scrOphu la
at the bottomof the busmess. Not even Gowland could worksuch amiracle as Lady Burlington’s face.
”
Then the stranger yonder can have nothing to do w iththem for he is as swarthy as a Moor. I declare, Mr. Trevelyan, I begin to feel a little fidgetty about the business .
Y ou must remonstrate seriously with Julia as soon as she
has done dancing.
”
To remonstrate seriously with a creaturewhose light foot
”Kl SECOND MARRIAGI .
steps approach us in the confidence of perfect innocence, heranut ringlets carelessly shaken aside, her blue eyes glan
g beneath them,-half-ah half-tender—her white teeth
exhibited by an incessant play of smiles and dimples—hersweet voice ringing like the carol of birds, is a difficult task.
Instead of question or reproval, the oldman found that nothing was requ ired of himbut to bow very low to the stranger,on his daughter
’s announcement of SirAlan Redwood, a
friend ofmy uncle Trevan ion.
”
Mrs. Trevelyan instantly rose fromher seat, and to proveby the length and depth of her curtsey howmuch she was
satisfied to find himan Englishman—how much more tofindhima Sir AnythingAnybody
—how ,most of all, to learnthat he was blest with the friendship of her worthy brotherTrevanion .
Sir Alan , meanwhile, seemed to limit the extent of his
personal importance to the consciousness of having been te
cently the partner of the loveliest girl in the ball-room. He
bowed gravely, stiffly, Eng lishly, to the profound obeisanceof his countr -woman ; and Julia was for amomentmortifired by the coldness of his replies to her father
’s polite inqu ir
ies teuching the health and journey of an individual he was
addressing for the first time ; and the dry repulsive way in
whichhe suddenly uitted the group, andmade his way to a
meet ing coterie of iplomats who stood strung together near
the door.
What a pity that he shou ld be so ungracious l” thought
Miss Trevelyan , as hermother toddled back to Lady Wad
hamto communicate all she knew respecting the illustrious
stranger, and solicit further information . He is very handsome—very well informed -l did not foresee he could beso disagreeable.
”—and it afforded her real gratification , inthe course of the evening, that Sir Alan Redwood shou ld see
how assiduously her hand was sought by the most distingu ished partners in the . room; and still more, w ith hawmuch respect her father andmother were treated by the lead'
ng personages of the society. She almost w ished, indthat her friend Lady Clairivrlle had not introduced this samesurl English Baronet to her acquaintance. But it did not
muchsignify. He had already informed her thathewas onhis way to Naples ; and birds of passage are too frequent inRome at the commencement of the winter to render themof
much account. Sir Alan would be off in a day or two, and
wou ld probably leave little occasion to regret his departures
Tfi l SW ORD I ARRIAOI
CHAPTERm.
Therewas no great disparity of years,Thoughmuch in temper, but the never clash’d ;The mov’d like stars united in t ir spheres,Or 1 e the Rhone byLemsn's waters wash’d,Wheremingled and yet separate appearsThe river fromthe lake. Du os .
Irr spite of his own announcement, however, and in s its of
the announcement of all the gossips, Sir Allan wood
loitered on fromdo to day, fromweek to week. It was not,as Lad Wadhami l-naturedly insinuated, thathe was disappoin of his remittances fromEngland, and pretended a
predilection for Romemerely froman inability to get forward
toNaples. The English Baronet lived (as the English loveto live) at the most expensive hotel in themost expensivemanner ; not only paying his way as he went, but
paying a
great deal of way that he did not go. Moreover e was a
dilettante or cognoscente (as the En lish travellers love to be,in things that delight themnot an concerning which theyknow nothing) ; and displayed much liberality among the
studios and atelier: which are frequented by his oathful
countrymen in Rome, much as Tattersall’s and Ho y’s are
fuguented in London , and where they seldomdisplaymuch,beyond their own ignorance. It was plainly no deficiency of
means to go further and fare worse, which detained himso
long in theEternal City.
It is almost an rfluous to notice that wherever the inbahitants of the British Islandsmuch do congregate, theremu stinevitably be dinner
-parties
—not dinners only,-not good
ea ting and drinking,—but parties of gentlemen and ladies,
dressed in their best attire, to sit round a table, and parts”of it in themost ibrmal and'disagreeablemanner, prec
'
u ely
I4 ran encono uaanraos .
plainly that he did not think herworth conversing with ; that
the long-winded inan ity of her father andmother had ispired himwith a very disparaging notion of the intellecti .
the family ; that beyond the courtesy of placing a bcccaficoon her plate, he was in fact very little cognizant of her beingseated on the chair beside him. Her pride at length sug
gested, that he might suppose she had some share in the
arrangements for their dancing, riding, sitting, and talkingtogether,made by the unan imous consent of society, withoutreference to her inclinations.
Dismissing the artless cordiality of her general address,Iulia accordingl strove to insinuate an unwonted air of dignity, and even thsdain, into her intercourse with her handsome countryman . But by this she gained nothing. Her
reserve rendered himonlymore reserved, —her scorn,morefastidious and whereas shehad been previously amazed anddistressed by rumours, that Sir Alan Redwood and MissTrevelyan were going to bemarried,” she had nowthe vex
ation to find that public report onlymodified the lie into Sir
Alan and Miss Trevelyan Izod beene ngaged, but had brokenoff the engagement.” All this wasmortifying enough and
themore so, that Mrs. Trevelyan evinced no great indigna
tion either at the first or second falsehood. Nothing has
Humvented more marriages,” said she, in answer to her
ughter’s expostu lations,
“than premature disavowal. Were
I toset about denying the report, Sir Alanmight say that itwould have been as well to wait till we were asked ; and
perhapsmake it an excuse for (never 0 osing at all .”
But, my dearmother, believeme, he is never likely to
propose at all,”
exclaimed poor Julia, reddening to the temples, at this specimen of her mother’s discretion. Surely
youmust have observed, fromthe very first night of our in
troduction , hi s coldness, hismoroseness, his every thing shortof incivility towards us all
Nonsense, my dear —Sir Alan is a very well-bred
young man, who does not go about shaking hands w ith and
whispering to every one, like Sir Lucius Blarnymore ; orpass his time in morn ing visiting, like poor little LordDwindlehmn . He pays us asmuch attention as he pays any
one.
’
Granted l—and an additional proof that he is very uh
likely tomakeme an offer of his hand. He talks tome justas het lks to Lady Wadhamor the paralytic Princess
RonSIgli Is that the tone for a lover 2”
Tan encore!) u s aau oa. 15
Why what in the world do you imagine detains him
fire at Rome, except the view of recommending himself tor family i”Indeed I imagine nothing on the subject : and least of
all that Sir Alan entertains the smallest interest concerningme ormine. Pardonme, dear mother, if I express a hope,that you have not allowed your conjamong Lady Wadhamand her set i
”
My dear love, the fact is too apparent. They all see itas well asmyself : they cannot help seeing it, and the can
not help saymg so, and I cannot blame them. Consi or fora moment -Sir Alan arrives here with the intention ofrefreshing himself on his journey by a few days rest. Everything is arranged for his departure -
passportsmade out,trunks packed. He comes to Torlonia’s,—dances with you,-burns his passport, un ks his trunks, -and, on pretense
of some nonsense or er, lingers on week after week,meeting you day after day, and dailymore intent on theconnexion .
”
I scarcely know how to answer so partial a statement.But as itmust be plain to you that he cannotmarrymewithout your consent and or own. you w ill admit that he takes
very little ins to conci into either or any of us 1”
Oh l at . is his way. He is not a fop,—~he 1 ! not a
courtier a nd being probably aware that nothing would bemore gratifying to your father and myself than to secure so
eligible a connexion, perhaps he thinks a waste of courtshipsuperfluous.
”
My dear, dear mother -this is worse and worse l”
cried Julia, hiding her face in her hands. If you sayonly half somuch to Lady Wadham, I no longer wonder atthe cold c ontempt of his demeanor.sitting
‘
patiently inthrown i ntomy lapRedwood on any
thematter w ith you, child ? I don’t like
for such trifies -I really begin to believe,that you are not well. He says the Sicilianagree with you ,
-that you look heated;take some Seidlitz powders. ”
do very well could I but persuade you to dis
absurd notion that Sir Alan Redwood has any
ARRIAGE.
particular object, any which I amconcerned, for
prolonging his sojournBut why w ish to persuademe of such a thing?
would be a great disappointment to me ! I have setmyheart upon thematch.
’
You, who loveme so tenderly, would entrustmy happiness to the care of a inan we have known only six weeks
Ah but every one sees that you are very partial to him.
Inmy 0 inion , Sir Alan is the on ly man you have ever
really li ed. I was telling Lady Wadhamso, last night‘
at
the Cardinal’s.
”
Ah,mother, mother -and a man too w ith whose principles and connexions we are utterly unacquainted.
”
My dear Ju lia, you don’t suppose that your father and l
have been proceedin blindfold in this business —Fromthevery night of Sir A an Redwood
’s introduction to us, from
themoment I perceived that you had taken such an instan
taneous fancy to each other, I wrote over to my brotherTrevanion (with whomhe said he was acquainted), tomakethe most minute investigation into the particulars of his
fimily, fortune, and character.”And supposing they have reached
‘
his ears 1
Sup osing they have—what can bemore natural than
the solici tude‘
of rents situated aswe are situated 1— 1 havelittle doubt that e is fully aware of the circumstance, andhighly a plauda our prudence.
”
An whatmust he have been thinking of me all this
time,” faltered Miss Trevelyan ; lookingmore like a heroinethan she ever looked in her life.
But,mly love, you don
’t inquire the particulars of your
uncle’s rep y 1
”
It is quite a sufficientmisery that the inquiry was evermade.
”
Ah ! you w ill change yourmind, my dear Ia . , when
you hear that Sir Alan has nearly thirty thousand a ear,
and‘
one of themost beautiful seats in Yorkshire ;‘
an that
he is connected on all sides in the most unexce‘
ptiona’
ble
manner.
”
I amonly glad to find that he hthe self-importance I have always found
It is certainly some drawback, that the chbut, as it is only a girl, there would be nothingbetween your children and the entail. Trevelya Park
ran asco lto an nu al . 17
mighi be settled on your second son, with a provision forchange of name.
ChildmnK—daughter l—oon !Yes ,my love. She died in childbed, you know ; and
her family have the care of the child.
To what family and what child are you alluding l”
To SirAlan Redwood’s,
‘
to be sure.
SirAlso amarriedman l”-vA widower, my dear Julia. Your uncle Trevanion
writesme word that the youngman is tru e ing on the con
tinent only to dissipate his afiliction for the'
ass of his wife.
A charming creature, he says-ro beautiful, so accomplish
ed, and Sir Alan so tenderly attached to her I”
An this is theman we have been steringtions tomtsa and Operas —No won er he was so muchdisgusted with our proceedings. How frivolousmust allmy girlish folly have appeared in his eyes.
”
Wemet himfirst, you know, in a ball-room. LadyRedwood has been dead 9. year, or you would
'
scarcely have
seen himcapering about in weepers."
Capering about
And fromthe moment people re-appear in societ theymust expect to be treated like the rest of the world. Sir
A lan Redwood cannot expect that we are all to be pensiveand grave because he chooses to be sorry for his wife.
Hush ! here he comes .
”
Pray, praymamma,"whispered Miss Trevelyan ,‘
as the
baronet’s steps were heard traversing the ante-chamber, do
not lethimsupposewe have been discussing his sahirs con
sider how ofiicious and impertinentwe should appear 1”
It was probably an apprehension that Mrs. Trevelyanwould commither bysome new indiscretion, that lent so beautiful a flush to Julia’s cheek when Redwood entered the
room. It was probably the new interest he had recentlyacquired in her eyes, which caused her voice to timablewhenshe addressed him. A, husband and a father -a bereaved
husband—a father separated fromhis only child ! Such
sorrow as: he must have undergone ; such painful remembrauses as must still haunt his mind -Involnntarily her
0 es filled with tears, as she remarked for the first time thathis brow was hollow , and his lips feverish and compressed.
How oftenmust she have insensibly wounded his feelingshow ofien vexed and offended himl—Julia Trevelyan never
discovered how far her predilections had outstnpped her
0
18 run snconnmann er .
intention, and how deeply, tenderly, and irrevocably her
affections were pledged to Sir Alan Redwood, till she had
reason to believe that his own were wedded to the grave
that he was a heartbroken andmisanthropicmanIt was probably the sym thy thus developed, which sofi
ened even the harshEnglis man’s intonation , as he addresseda few uninteresting inquiries to the lovely heiress. Blind as
he was—blinded either by prejudice, pride, ormental afiliction , -the pertubation , the tenderness of Miss Trevelyan
’s
manner eculd not escape him. He drew his chair nearer to
hers, and for amoment affected to interest himself in the
drawin at which shewas diligently working w ith a view to
escape is coldly scrutinizing glances. Julia felt her breath
grow shorter, and her cheeks of a more burning crimson .
Shewas determined that he should have no plea for supposin
athat she had rticipated in her mother’s investig
ations ;an replyin to
'
s questions with an hbruptness amost asstartling an ungracious as any he had ever ractised to
wards herself, Sir Alan was for the first time in uced to con
sider the beautiful Julia as wayward and capricious. He?
was indignant. He had thought betterof her ; had regardedher as the least spoiled child of the most spoiling parents
that theweakest human naturecould furnish ; and intent perhaps onmaking his dissatisfaction apparent, assumed in histurn a harshness of tone such as induced Ju lia sudden] to
let fall her pencil, and lift her large dark grey eyes to is,w ith an expression that could not be mistaken —with thedeprecatin devoted, doubting, timid tenderness, of first andunreturne affection . There was no resisting thismutemndinvoluntary a peel. SirAlan Redwood, silently seizing thehand of the evely artist, ressed it fervently in his, andwould probabl have raise it to his lips, had she not forcibl
ydissuga it,—risen abruptly fromher seat, -and quit
te the room. Mrs Trevelyan was too busy w ith her kn itting, and too slow of apprehension to notice what was goingon . As Julia passed her chair, she saw indeed that the tearswere streaming down her face ; and attributed her daughter’semotion to the agitating nature of the conversation they hadrecentlyheld together.
—She only hoped that Sir Alan wasnot so clear-sighted as herself !
rug snconn manh u nt . 19
CHAPTER IV.
I lovehimnot,—norhate himnot ; and yetI havemore cause to hate himthan to love him.
Forwhat had he to do to chideatme ?As You Lin Ir.
F ORTUNATELY for the happiness of man oand-womankind,those subtleties of sentiment which agonized the sensibilitiesof young ladies and y oung gentlemen of the days of theHarlowes and Grandisons, have vanished fromthe common-placeroutine of life. Formany years past, we have heard of no
female victims to the delicate distress of having given awayan unwooed heart ; nor do we know a singlemarriage embittered b a
,recurrence of the Richardson ian paradox of
w ho love first, and why. It does not, however, appear cer
ta in that the moral turpitude of the action is by an meansdiminished ; and it is with fear and tremblin
gwe adin it that
poor Ju lia Trevelyan’s heart was exclusive y dedicated to
the flinty Sir Alan , long,before he had vouchsafed to press
her hand, or even compassionate the tears he wrung fromher gentle e es. We admit that the conduct of our heroine
was very b ameable.-It was, however, very natural ; for
the young Baronet was not alone the most attractivemanw ith whomshe had ever been acquainted but the only one,
oung and unmarried, who had evinced no pretensions to
her handBut now ,
—now that she had so completely]betrayed her
self, now that the unguarded weakness of or demeanourafforded himgreater excuse for triumph than even Mrs.
T revelyan’smanoeuvres—did hexnow, did he still maintain
that frigid reserve, thatmortifying apathy, which had so long
borne testimony to thepre-engrossment of his feelings t—Im
ran sscortn nann i es .
possible l—He could not longer close his heart against a
young, beautiful, gentle, accomplished, rich, well-bumgirl ;whose devotion to himself wasmanifest, notwithstanding allher efforts, al l her struggles, all her delicac who lovedhimin spite of himself—and in spite of han d so.
Yes —Things went worse between themthan ever l—Anew shade of embarrassment seemed added to amutual position, already only too embarrassing . Julia, ashamed of theemotion involuntarily betrayed, grew almost su llen w ith its
while Sir Alan, instead of throwin himself at herfeet as the happiest and most grateful 0 men , scarcely
igned to occupy the place by her side forced upon
himby themisjudging zeal of Mr. or Mrs. Trevelyan .
Whenever he addressed her it seemed by involuntar imu lse ; and though a close observermi ht have notice thathis e e froma distance was constantly
°
rected towards her,and is lips when he did speak, compressed, as if by a
strong effort to restrain his declarations, poor Julia saw
nothing in his demeanor but increased reserve, increasingalienation . Very earnestly did she long for the first symptoms of the return of spring ; for in the spring they were to
qu it Rome ; and she had actually succeeded in persuadingher parents to a voyage. to Sici ly, in order to avoid the ap
pearance of travelling in company w ith the surly Redwoodpursuing their original plan of a journey to Naples.
ut the first symptoms of spring were fated to waft new
projects upon their balmy gales.
It was about the end of February ; and a continuation ofcold weather, such as, to use the Roman roverb, had “hungbeards on the frost-bitten Tritons of the ountsins in the Piazza Navona,
”rendered a change of temperature peculiarly
welcome ; when a few days of sunshine brought forth at
once the ready verdure of that accessible soil, and, as if bamagic touch, the gardens of Monte Pincio grew suddenlybright w ith flowers Tulips, anemones, and hyacinths, started up as if long impatient for a summons -the intenseverdure of the yellow jasmine-leaves grew glossier and
greener than ever —the bright bay and peaked ph llereato wake into vivid existence -even the stems pine
trees threw aside theirmourning habits, and, if the stillsighed, imparted a spicy sweetness to their sighs, as t ough
ful to the sunshine, that disdained not to smile upondesolation . All the world was astir again.
tivsa were audible in the streets “Bollim'mo l—d
22 was ss conn as sumes .
of Horace, heat his lécha upon hers w ith an expressionwhence all his former reserve wasabanished -an expression
such asmarks thé glance of a human eye towards the objecton earth upon which itmget delights to gaze. He becameabstracted, incoherentr—and Miss Trevelyan saw in amoment that the long-wished, -long-despaired of confession
was at hand -wh,en lo I just as she was beginning to trem
ble w ithemotions ofming led joy and fear, a loudhalloo froma dandy dragoon, a brother of Lady Clairiville
’s (who being
a jester by vocation was pronounced to be a rent requisition
to all the pleasurehaunts of the ennuyées offlame) announced that LadyWadhamand her Huns were at hand. Ju liaand Redwood had just time to start upfromtheir sentimentalpost, and assume a tone thatmight better assimilate with theflippant bantering of their companions. But itwas impossible to divest themselves of a certain air of consciousness,such as included Lady C. to assure her young friend that she
saw clearly how things were and Lad W. to offer her
congratulations in an audiblewhisper to
Greatly, however, as poor Julia was distressed by theiraficious impertinence, she was farmore so on rceivingthat SirAlan, instead of compassionating the dr mma inwhich she was placed, studiously w ithdrew fromher side.
They were now makin their way to a dismantled fortressnear Rona Giovane, w ere the banquet was alread
ypre
pared ; and leavin her to the charge of the noisy ,bloc head
y whomthey he been molested, he now afihcted to offer
his armas the escort of Lady Clairivil le ; besidewhomheout during‘
the repeat devoting himself ostensiblyand exclusrvely to or entertainment.The tables being at length removed, dancing was proposed
In the quadrangle ; and in amoment she beheld Redwoodguidi ng the triumphant Lad Clairiville through themazesof a waltz l—Twilight stoo her friend. Gradually extri
cating herself fromtheman y grou poor Julia stole silentlyaway through the inner courts 0 the venerable edificetripped hastily over the short green grass, by which themterveningmounds of earth were covered as by a carpet
'
ngof green velvet —and having reached a httle desolatenook of glacis bourided round by the hoary walls and a
wooden paling, sat herself down on the ground and coveredher face with her hands ; the better, itmay be concluded , to
collect her thoughts and shape her projects for the future .
Of course she would not have done so ignominious a thingas weep for the world !
ran ssooNn nmau en. 23
But after a fewminutes indulgence of these solitary ruminations, she suddenly started up ; and would have quittedher lonely oratory almost as eagerly as she had sou ht it,but that she was forcibly detained,
—4 f0rcibly compel ed toresent herself—forcibly comelled to l isten to a voice, thefaintest accents of which, w ispered softly into her ear, hadcaused her amoment before to withdraw the hand fromherface and prepare to retrace her steps back to the compan
Dearest, dearest Julia 1 -exclaimed Bir Alan cdwood, you are weeping l
—What brings you here -Whathas in
’
i’pelled you to quit yondermerry group for this dreary
t
Sir Alan , seemed resolved to compensate himself for fivemonths of self-restraint, by the sudden assumption of unlimited license ; for he not only ventured upon the familiarityof Juliaizing the astonished recluse, but actuall presumedto encircle Miss Trevelyan
’s slender waist withhis arm.
It was not surprising that she should turn pale and trembleat so extraordinary an irregularity on the part of so regulara man, in the dimness of encreasing twi light and in thestillness of so remote a spot. She began heartily to w ishshe had kept w ith the rest of the compan for she hadlittle doubt that the elated Baronet was un er the influence
of champagne.
Alas 1 his was an intoxication quafi'
ed at a stillmore eti
lous source —In’
s was an intoxication against which oth
soda and seltzer are inefl'
ectual correctives -ln'
t was the ia
toxication of long increasing ; of atenderness only themore otent and.themore exquisite, thatit had been subdued by allTthe arguments and all the efi
'
orts
which human resolution could suggest.
You think me wild,” cried he, in answer to the silent
shudder w ith which she repelled his touch. You attribute
my impetuosity to audacity,-perhaps to wine
—perhaps to
madness. -No, Julian—dearest, most beloved Julia, no —Iamonl too sober,—too sane,
-too sad.—It is with the full
force 0 my reason I amcompelled to acknowledge how long,how intensel I have loved you how painfully I have strivento conceal how vainl
yattemted to subduemy attachment l”
Your attachment !’ ejacu ated Miss Trevelyan, astonished out of her terrors ; and already relapsing into the credu
lous confidence ever entertained by a woman towards the ohject of
her affections. Do not imagineme so easily de
cei ve
7 3 1 SECOND I LRBIAGE.
I do not imag ine on deceived l-u -No it was impossibleto deseiVe you
-I fagthat it was impossible. With allmyefi
'
orts to appear unconstrained in your presence, with allmyanxiety that nothing should transpireh betray the troubledstate ofmy feelings. nothing could blind your penetrationyou saw and have seenfi'om’
thefirstmoment of our acquaintancef.themalimited extent of your influence overmy feel
gizwould have beenmuchmore to the purpose, had Miss
Travelyan persisted in feeling or feigning astonishinent andincredulity . But Julia was incapable of art. If no longersurprised, shewas at least gratified and penetrated by all she
felt and all she heard. Moreover, the tears were very near
the surface, uite ready to spring forth again ; and withoutthe least regar to her own dignity, sheactually relapsed intoamost unheroic flood of tears. Sir Alan received no veryintelligible ‘negative to his request for leave to hope, -and
Sr permission to tender his proposals toMr. and Mrs. Trev
yam.
ra n ssconn a s s umes . 25
CHA'PTER V.
FairHero is won —and his good will obtained, nams the day ofmarriage !
Macsmo n our normae.
Wr'rn two young lovers eager to bemarried, and a fatherandmotherequally ea or to hasten their hymeneals, there islittle likelihood of a It was notmuch more than a
week before Julia Trevelyan suffered herself toin to an opinion that nothing could have been more naturalthan Redwood’s conduct towards her ; and as to the squ ire
and his lady, their triumphwas unconditional. Mrs. Trevelyan had the comfort of proving to Lady Wadhamhow
groundless had been her rnuendoes respecting her future
son-ia-law ; and Mr. Trevelyan the joy of discovering thatSir Alan
’s estates were full six thousand a year more ex
tensive than hehad been led to believe. Instead of goinginto the family ofR edwood as an heiress, the fair Julia of
Trevelyan Park would scarcely take with her an equivalent
for all the splendours and prosperity of her new condition .
A day was appointed for the marriage about six weeks
after the éclaircisscmt of the Horatian Villa. to give timefor the return of a courier fromEngland, where the legalpreliminaries were to be adjusted ; and in the mean time.the bride and bridegroomelect had nothing to do but to playRomeo and Juliet, in all the Inn of an Italian spring,while old Capuletand his Lady stoo afar off watching their
proceedings, and congratulating each other that they hadnot allowed their recious peer] to remain closed up in the
dull oysterbed of air Cornish estates.
It has been already admitted that Miss Trevelyan’s eyes
we
?the
L
bluest, her tresses themost silken, her figure the0L. D
26 run escono MARR IA63 .
most symmetrical, that imagination can picture. But Julia
possessed a personal charmbeyond even these important advantages. She had a countenance full of sensibility ; a
countenance the very mirror of her mi nd ; a countenance
overwhich the clouds and sunshine chased each other w ith
the sportive variability of an autumnal ah one minute,summer seemed lingering there in utmost gihry,—~th
’
e next,
there was a cloud, 3. dreariness. a darkness, quickly to bedispelled by a new dawn of the refulgent sunshine of perfect
happiness. And yet she was not capricious.—The changes
of the weatherglass were solely dependent on the atmosphere shed around it b the one all potent orb, influencingthe ebb and flow of herheart’s emotions ; and it was alreadyin Redwood
’s
power to overcast her sprightliestmood, or
call up an A in my amid the utmost desolation of her tears.
To repress t is exquisite but fatal sensibility, MissWilmothad laboured hard in her vocation . It is true shemade noboast an the subject to her employers ; for she knew fullwell that Mrs. Trove] n
’s alarms once excited, she would
do her best to tranqui lizo her daughter’s nerves by worry
ing her into a fever ; nor would the old gentleman havehesitated to apply half the contents of hismedicine chest to
the aggravation of the disorder. She contented herself withstriving to fortify themind of her pupil with principle andher heart with reason ; trusting shemight outgrow an ia
firmity commonly slassed among ‘
the diseases-of youth. Onretiring to hotmodest retreat at Devizes, the worthy womaneven flattered herself that the danger was past ; and knowing her pupi l to be fenced round by the prosperities of lifefromthe common cares of human nature, ventured to an
ticrpstp father as bright a destiny as any child of wrath isis sett led to expect in a probationary world. OnemightalmostM ore to conclude that resentiment had led her tomin t .
that the obj ect of her a ectionstc solicitudes wou ldrate the hands of the highminded Sir Alan Redwood,
wi
th 8 1 13901110 Of forty thousand per annum a very crediu blomeasureof precedeacy among the Sir Johns and SirThemes, his hrethren ; and a. character that might haveborne the scrutiny of themost scrupulous club in theparishShe did not, however anticipate, or if she had, would
have repelled the notion as to the happiness ofthe gentleJulia, that the so she had so laboured to extermi nate, Wi th its
THE SECOND MARR IAGE. 27
and tears, was the chief source of her attraction
of her future husband. Redwood was a distr man,and prized nothingmore highly than the
enabling himto pr into themind of the object of his tenderness. The en moment of beauty arising from the
variations perceptible upon Ju lia Trevelyan’s dimpled face,
were as nothing in comparison with the insight they affordedinto her thoughts and feelings. The eloquent blood,
”that
spoke in her cheeks was a welcome tell-tale ; and her tearspossessed an oratory of unappreciable value.
There could not, indeed, be a greater contrast of dition than between Sir Alan and the lad of his love.
wood’s commanding height, austere a dress, stern features,and impassive countenance, seemed only the sterner and
more commanding, now that a flower had sprung up besidethe rock, in contrast with its rugged coldness ; and LadyWadhamand the coteries shrugged their soulders and smiledcontemptuously, when they saw themsitting together even
ing after evening, often without uttering a syllable, and cer
tainly looking none of those things that are said to be unut
totable. Julia, in truth, felt too happy, too contented, to
venture on bending her radiant smiles on her observant lover;while Sir Alan was toomuch on his guard against the world,against its inferences, and above all, against himself to render his tenderness amatter of comment to the vulgar tongue,or of self-assured possession to his future w ife.
Nevertheless, his expressions were not alwaysmeasured,n or Julia
’s sweet looks over hoarded up fromhis participa
tion . Lady Wadham’s eyes were not always upon them;
and during those long spring days that intervened between
betrothment andmarriage, those days of growing daylight
and progressive vegetation, when every morning dawnedupon brighter blossoms and fresher verdure, it was indeed a
holiday of spirit to themboth, to wander together through
the gardens of the Villa Borghese or some other belresplro ;while the old people sat prosing together in a favourite paw l
ion, bending thei r idolizing eyes froma distance 11 on thefair figure of their daughter ; her white raiment g ancmgamong the dark evergreens, like the shining radianc
e of an
angel guestWandering amid the paths of Paradise .
How happy she was,—how bright—how beautiful -all
her wishes accomplished, —all her home surpassed. It was
no longer possible to doubt that Redwood loved her
looks, his words, his eagerness to secure her society, hi s
28 ru n st eel!» surnames .
anxious plans to render their future life less world-absorbed
than the ordinary career of dinner-giving, ball-haunting ex
istence, all conspired to rea ssure hermisgivings. That hehad sought her for herselfalone, was indisputable
—and her
only care was to appear, or render herself worthy of, the
choice which she (lovely and gifted and good as she was) re
garded as an effort of themost gracious toleration .
Therewas still, however, one single speck on Julia’s hori
zon—{what horizon can be altogether cloudless l )—whichcast a hovering shadow over the airy distance of her pros
ects. The object of her tenderness had already loved ; the
usband of her young heart had already cherished a belovedand loving w ife in his
‘
bosom. Perhaps he was even yet influenced by the memory of those ties , that tenderness
Perhaps she was secondary in his esteemto theMary whosehair still encircled his finger l
—Were not his thoughts sometimes secretl occu iod in comparing her person with that ofthe first La y Re wood,—Iter sentiments w ith those of his
early choice, —Iter voice with the voice thatwas silent— hersmile with a smile now set for ever in the stil lness of the
grave l—This dispiriting idea, once conceived, oilen cau seder blood to freeze in her veins —To be subordinate in
‘
a
heart that was all in all to her i—To bear a part, only, in thedestiny which was to her as thewell-spring ofher own exist
once i
What worlds would she not have squandered to give utterancebut to the smallest of her alarms on the forbidden sub'
ect, -to a oach, even at a remote distance, the history ofis wedde ife -to whisper, Was she young, fair, confiding, affectionate l—Did you love her as you loveme, or ratheras I doat upon yourself2. Have I cause to apprehend that theshadow of the dead will interpose between your heart and
your living wife l
” -sBut no —such an‘
appeal would haveeen hazardous with any createdmortal and w ithRedwood
fatal. Julia felt assured that, should she venture to breathethemost distant allusion to this delicate tapic , he would start
off, fly fromher presence- abandon her for ever He would
give himself no time to reflect upon the anxious tendernesssuggesting her uneasiness on the subject ; but dismiss her atonce fromhis heart, and see her face nomore !Otlen, when they sat together side by side and hand in
hand, in some sequestered nook among the espaliers ofblossoming orange
-trees of the Ludovisian gardens, listen into the busymurmur of the bees and watching the gradua
30 was seconn un us u al .
CHAPTER VI.
Safe out ofFortune’s shot she sits aloft,Advene’d above aleEnvy
’s threaten ing reach
As when the gol on Sun salutes themom,And
,having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the ocean with his glitterin car,
And overlooks the highest posung ills.
T rrus Axnnomcus.
ENGLISH newspapers ally very busy about new
married people. The arrival in London of Sir Alan and
Lady Redwood was announced with considerable pomp ;and the world wasmoreover informed that it was the intoution of “the amiable couple
”to pass only a
' few days in
London , previous to their departure for their seat in York
shire.
Julia, who had not visited the metropolis since her
attainment of woman ’s estate, had in fact very few connec
tions there to induce a prolongation of her eojoum; andalthough theymade their appearance in the height of theLondon season , although the suffocating atmosphere ofmanya ball-roomdemonstrated the fu lness of town and the gaietyof the coteries, she had not yet beenmarried long enough tohave acquired the least ambition for the display of herdiamonds, or the exhibition of her trozmeau . Mrs. Trevelyan , who had given a parting charge to her son-in-law on
no account to postpone Lady‘
Redwood’s presentation , or
encourage her taste formoping at home, would have beenshocked had she suspected that a few visits to the theatre inamorning dress, for the purpose of witnessing certain cite/1d’cmores of the English stage, formed the extent of her
daughter’s dissipation during this her bridal visit.
Do let us get away as soon as possible,”whispered
ms st oonn uaanu os . 31
Julia to her husband, pointing out to himthe moss-rosescontained in the basket of a dirty flower
-girl, who stood
curtseying opposite the w indows of the hotel. Thecountry is just now so beautiful ; and I amso anxious tohave a glimpse ofm new flower-gardens, and a ride with
you through Redwoo Forest before the w ild thyme is outof bloom—Why not go to-morrow l—What have we to
detain us ?
You forget,”
replied Sir Alan, coldly,“ that theWal
poles have promised to be in town on Monday, to giveme a
sight ofmy little girl.”No ! I did not forget their promised visit,
”replied
Julia, blushing deeply ; but you never told me that l ittleMary was to accompan them. I understood she was at
Weymouth for the benefit of sea air.
”
She is atWeymouth. But Mr. and Mrs. Walpole areof course desirous that I shou ld see her ; and, concludingthat so long a journey would be unwelcome to you, and thatI should be unw illing to leave you just now , they havew isely and kindly decided on bringing her to town .
Mrs. Walpole is a very conscientious, as well as a verysensible woman . However desirous of retaining her little
grandchild under her care, she is too prudent to w ish thatMary should be wholly estranged fromher father.
”
Could ou not persuade her, then, to let us take thelittle girl into Yorkshire inquired Julia, involuntariltrembling at the notion of sharing Redwood
’s affections w
'
any other living creature.
No,”
replied Sir Alan, fixing one of his scrutinizing
glances upon her face ;“ it wou ld terrify poor Mrs. Walpole
were I so soon to demand the surrender of her little charge.
Besides, know ing you to be unaccustomed to children, Ifancy she wou ld be alarmed at the notion of Mary
’s falling
to your care before you have acqu ired a little nurseryexperience. She implied as much, indeed, in the letter Ireceived fromher at Paris.
”
“The letter he had received fromMrs. Walpole at Paris!”
—He !tad then received a letter, without adverting to the
c ontents, or even acquainting her w ith the circumstance.He probably regarded the sub
'
eet as too sacred for In s
participation . Mrs. W. had oubtless addressed
advocate and defend the rights and claims of her andchild
o r erhaps, even w ith a view of keeping alive t ememorynf r daughter in his heart—of reminding himof the
32 u rn snoonn nsnnu on.
former Lady —or of his door l” -Yes t
he was certainly in the habit of calling her his earMaryin his-correspondence w ith her famil —His dear Mary—Oh that another woman should ve possessed
—shou ld
still possess suficient dominion in his mind to be the objectof his endearing appellations—his lingering regrets ! LadyRedwood (the second Lady Redwood) turned coldly awayfromthe w indow , observing in a tone of pique, I dare sayMrs. Walpole is right ; I amquite
'
of her opinion, that the
guardianship of her grandchild could not be committed to
worse hands thanmine.
”
The bridegroomwas now piqued in his turn . Nothin
ghad he so much at heart as that his ntle Julia shoal
attach herself to his littlemotherless gir and that an affec
tion hs ould sprin up between them. It was in the h0pe
that some propos would arise on her art for Ma’s re
turn to her natural home, that he he encourage Mrs.
Walpole’s pro of bringing her to town ; and partly in
delicacy, or on culating perhaps too largely on the'
perversityof her sex, he had 0 posed her su tion only in the hope
that his apparent in°
tferencc wou ge
stimulate her own ia
clination for her daughter-ia-law’
s compan Totally un
prepared for her cool and abrupt dismissal ofthe subject, hewas for a fewminutes almost inclined to express resentmentof her conduct ; and nothin
gbut the certainty that quarrels
or reproofs would forma be preparative for the tenderness
with which he wished to inspire her, revented himfromassuring his bride that little Mary had
ptoo happy it home
and toomany friends and protectors, to be under any neces
sity for courting the kindness of a step-mother. It was only
by hastily qu itting the room, that he escaped the temptationof giving vent to his feelings.
But when theymet again, all was forgotten ! The childdid not altogether engross the hearts orminds of the brideand bridegroom. Sir Alan , when he entered the draw ingrooma fewminutes before dinner and found his love] Jul iawatching beside thewindow forhis return , her cheek ashedwith expectation, and her li ported by anxiety, could notrefrain fromfolding to his cart the beautiful being whostarted 11 and sprang forward to welcome himhome. Shehad ma c an engagement during his absence to pass theevening at her uncle Mr. Trevanion’s, and was attired insomething more nearly approaching to full dress than hehad seen herwear fortwomonths post; nor could he resist
ran sacos u u sanu on. 83
d rawing back fromher embraces to contemplate, with re
newed admiration ,the gracefu l turn of her head, the rounded
outline of her arms, the symmetrical elegance of her whole
person . The vexations of the morning were forgotten inJu lia’s delight at being again by her husband
’s side -in
Redwood’s triumph in the lavish affection of so charming,
so gifted a creature. He almost regretted that any other
eyes were to feast themselves on her beauty ; and preparedsomewhat w ith an ill grace to fulfil their engagement to hisold friend, the remote origin of his present happiness.
The Trevanions were what is termed serious people.
”
They were not methodists—their worship was strictly or
ohodox ; but so strictly, that the worldly-minded, who
grudged thema reputation and consciousness of sanctity,for the acquirement of which themselves had no mind to
sacrifice the levities of life, branded themw ith the name ofSaints,
”and fled fromthe baleful example of their virtues.
T hese it is true were notarrayed in theirmostattractivegarb.
Mrs. Trevamon’s piety was of an austere and cheerless
o rder and her husband, if he refrained fromthe hair-shirt
and discipline of the heretic church, scrupled not to apply a
s imilar castigation to hismind ; and on a point of principle,tomake himself and those about himas uncomfortable as hec onveniently could. On learning, for instance, the tidings
of his niece Julia’s approachingmarriage with aman whomhe had himself announced to the Trevelyans as every way
qualified to render her the happiest of women , he considered
it his duty to dispatch a letter to his sister, reminding herthatmisfortune lurks in the palace no less than in the cabin ;and that sickness, sorrow , and early death, appear to delight
in exercising their cruel influence in the homes of the prosperons.
To the eye of a man of this description the arrival of
Lady Redwood, gay, fair, smiling, joyous, brilliant, affordedon ly a theme for painful presentiments. It was not often
that so bri ht a creature sat smiling in his sober draw ingroom; andwhile poor Sir Alan fell to the share of Mrs.
Trevanion and two sanctimonious-loolring individuals of
questionable gender, who added littlemore to the conversa
tion than a few hem: and groans, —Ju.lia was decayed byher uncle to a sofa at the other extremity of the room, tobe mortified into a moreChristian frame ofmind by hisJeremiads.
m m u m mies .
I amsurprised, my dear,” said he, “ that your paren ts
did not accompany you to England Z”
My father was of opinion that so long a journeydesirable formamma, during the summer heats .
”
Then you should have persuaded Sir Alan to defer his
return to England till the autumn.
”
“He has busines in Yorkshire that admits if no delay .
Could not yourmarriage have been M erl-cd till it was
pou ible formy sister and Trevel to come back w ith youfor its solemnization here ! My car, I do not w ish to blameyou, but I think your duty to themmight have suggested
such a plan .
Had I proposed it, mymother would have refused her
sanction . She was very anxious to hasten themarriAy, ay ! r thing ; I fancy she finds her hea th ode
clining. M ear, I do not wish to alarmyou ; but at hertime of life,health is a precarious thing and there is onlytoomuch cause to fear, in leaving a person of her years in a
t climate, that youmay nevermest again. I amsadlymy dear Julia, that
Oh ! no no, -pray do not say so, exclaimed Lady Redc
wood in great agitation. I assure you tn mother's healthis much as I have known it for the last een years. She
has promised to be with us at the Castle in October ; and Itrust,my dear uncle, you willmeet her there, and admit thatyour apprehensions were premature.
’
I trust so, -I amsure I trust so,” replied Mr. Trevanion
with a dee sigh“but I own I anticip te the worst. Pray
my love, w en has Sir Alan determined to quit town 1”We are waiting only for Mrs. Walpole
’s arrival,
”said
his niece blushing deeply. She has promised to bring upour little girl fromWeymouth.
"
Our little girl i—Oh 1 little Miss Redwood I presume !Ah poor little dear
—she comes home to live wi th you Isuppose l
”
No, -hermother’s family are anxious to retain her sometime longer.”
And you intend to sanction such ameasure 1”Sir Alan very naturally thinks that as her health is deli.
cute, it will be better for her to reside near the sea, and w ith
persons experienced in the care of children .
”
‘
fE1?surely,my love, you intend to resist sucha determi
nation
ru n sncos n s u mmer. 35
And why l—I can have no object but the welfare of the
little irl .”
Agy dear, your own future happiness cannot but be ofsome account in your eyes.
”
Imust not pretend to be less selfish than other people,said Julia, trying to rally her spirits, which were sinking un
der the influence of her uncle’s solemn tones and lugubriousaspect ;
“but I reall see no cause to fear that I shall be a
sufl'
erer fromMrs. al ls’s kindness to her grandchild.
Are you scquainte w ithMrs . Walpole ?
Onl fromRedwood’s reports.
”
Mr. Thevanion said nothing, but looked, Somuch the better for you I
”
Sir Alan describes her as a sensible well intentioned
person .
Yes, very sensible ; more sensible than tolerant or inn
dnlgent. She has great influence over yourhusband’smind,
and youmust take care that it is not exercised to ur detti
ment. In your place, I shou ld hesitate about aving the
child too long under her charge. Mrs. Walpole w ill prob
abl inspire her w ith sentiments towards yourself, and genera principles, such asmay render her hereafter a somewhatuneas inmate.
you think so i” involuntarily ejaculated Julia.
The life of a stepmother is commonly a stormy one,” re
lied her uncle, without compassionating the alarmbetrayedn Lady Redwood
’s change of tone. Y ou cannot be too
much on your guard ; em step you take is important toyour fitture happiness ; and think itmy duty to warn youthat, unless you crush the influence of the We] ls familynow, on your first assumption of
Jyour rights, you ave every
thin to fear fromtheir ascen ancy. Between ourselves,mydear Julia,” -lowering his voice to a stillmore confiden
tial pitch, the old grandmother is the most imperious wo
man in existence, and her d
lxt
dghter Martha themost '
artful
and insinuating. During y Redwood’s‘ lifetime” (Ju liashrank within herself at the name) “the did not suffer Sir
Alan to so. his soul was his own ; and ad he remained inEngland, verymuch doubt whether he would ever have
ventured to contract a secondmarriage.
”
Perhaps,” faltered his niece, growing paler and paler,
more and more do ressed, perhaps it was to escape the
thraldomof theW pole family that Sir Alan ted Italy 1”
30 was escorts uaanu ex.
Many people thought so rejoined old Trevanion, te°
oiced to perceive that he had
{gradually subdued his spright
ly niece into a oper frame 0 mind. But takemy advice,Julia. Resist romthe first the innovations of these people .
Show themthat you are determined to bemistress of you r
own house, and to retain the superintendence of your familyand by exercising your firmness in themaintenance of your
rights, and your fortitude in the endurance of their persecu
tions,yonmay perhaps have less cause than at
present, alas !
I have reason to‘
anttcipate—for deploring the ay you were
ever tempted to give you r hand to a widower.
”
The widower”was just then too close at hand to admit
of s rejoinder on the part of his wife. Wearied out in pab Mrs. Trerunion
’s tediousness, and the monosyl
labic interjections of her two serious friends, he came to
remind his wife that the carriage was waiting ; and great
indeed, was his surprise, instead of being greeted w ith theendearing smile he was ever in the habit of receiving, to findher looks haggard, her wor incoherent, her wholedemeanor changed. She sufl
'
er himto put on her shaw l andreiterate her adieu to her uncle and aunt, without appearingto reco izehis presence ra nd fromMr. Trevanion
’s door to
that 0 the Hotel in Jermyn-street, not a syllable passedbetween them. Julia was si lently weeping in the corner of
the carriage ; and SirAlan conjectnring, in gloomy abstrae
tion, whatmysterious communication or remonstrance on theuncle had produced so remarkable a transition in
mood andmanners of hisbride.
THE SECOND MARRIAGE.
till after her interview w ith theWalpoles and hermartyrdomto the interference of uncle Trevanion. Even had he
refrained frompointing out to her observation the alarmingausterity of little Mary
’s family, she might, perhaps, have
experienced some degree of apprehension on her first intro
duction to the nearest relation of her predecessor ; but,aided by Mr. Trevanion
’
s notes explanatory, she shudderedat the rigid formality of grandmamma’s plaited lawn kerchiefand powdered tou and could scarcely find voice to
answerMissWalpo o’s interrogations respecting her travels,
given in a tone of dry catechismal regularity savouringawfully of the school-room.
So much, indeed, was the gentle Julia overawed by all
she saw and all she conjectured of theWalpole family, thatshe took refuge, according to the customof timid people, inan air of hauteur, and a tone of most repulsive coldness .
Nothing could be more morti '
ng to Sir Alan Redwoodthan the constrained manner wit which his Julia replied to
the old lady’s communications respecting littleMary
’s health
and disposition. Lad Redwood, forewarned by her uncle,saw clearly through t e assumed amiability with which thegrandmamma was
‘
attempting to conciliate her confidence
and secure her subjugation . But she was determined not to
be caught—not to be captivated ; and instead of taking herlittle step
-daughter on her knee, as she would have done
almost any other child as pretty and ceful, and stiflingher with kisses as her strong resemlance to her father
naturally prompted, -she scarcely deigned to notice her ;and concurred w ith the most ungracious alacr
‘
i
‘
t
yin M iss
Walpole’s proposal that Mary should return to eymouth,
and reside with themanother year. It was evident that this
plan afforded asmuch satisfaction to the stepmother as to themm; but amid all Martha Walpole
’s delight at the
of retaining for some time longer the superintendence of hermotherless niece, it was plain to themortified Sir Alashe had alread conceived the greatest contempt for LadyRedwood’s pri e and heartlessness. He took little Maryinto his anus, and strove to conceal his vexation of spirit bythe warmth of his caresses : and Julia’s reserve did butincrease when the noted this excess of tenderness. Themortified father was no less indignant than afflicted. How
could he conjecture that, after her careless dismissal of hischild, r Julia retired into her own room, to weep over
the n o once she had done her kind and tender feelings ; or
run ssconn ma nn er . 39
that her heart was heating with agitation throughout the twoformal interviews, in which she deported herself so arro
gantly towards the family of his first wife.
Their feelings thusmutually estranged, it is not wonderful that the Yorkshire journey bould be silent and cheerless.S ir Alan felt himself aggriev (1, while Lady Redwood wasof o inion that nothing but the most prudentmanagementwou d preserve her fromapproachingmartyrdom. Shewasc onstantly on the watch to circumvent the consequences ofher husband
’s recent interview w ith her enemy, and to defeat
the influence of theWalpole family ; while he, attributingthe strangeness of her manner to caprice, redoubled heruneasiness by his resentful abstraction .
Such was themood in which the bride and bridegrooma rrived atFarminghurst ; such the temper ofmind which imparted to Julia’s beautiful feature an expression of su llenmelancholy strikin consternation into the old servants and
c hief tenants, and ependants, who werewaiting in the halland court ard to welcome her arrival.If thehaste with which she passed throu h the crowd and
hurried into the saloon, prevented her omhearing the
u niversal but involuntary ejaculation, Ah ! how unlikemylate lady !
-the feeling by which the phrase was dictatedwas too apparent in the countenances of her attendants to
e scape observation. Instead of the pleased alacrity whichfl ies to do the biddin of a cherishedmistress, there was ana ir of unconcern in the comi ngs and goings of the domestics ;and in answering the few trifiin inquiries she addressed tothem, Lady Redwood saw that t eir looks were invariablydirected towards theirmaster, as if her approval were of noaccount.
But all this was of very secondary moment. Fromthetime of changing horses at the last stage, where theobsequiousness of landlord, landlady, waiters, ostlers, little
dogs and all, suficed to prove that they were approaching the
confines of home, Sir Alan had sunk into the corner of the
carriage in themost mournful reverie. Instead of ointingout to her, as she had hoped and expected, his favouri te spots,his peculiar haunts, naming such and such a wood, tracin
gthe course of the river, and acquainting her beside whio
group of distant poplars the Redwood Mills, —and behindwhich jutting rock the village church lay niched in snu
dg
concealment, his eyes wandered va ely over thewide lan
scape—the hedges flow by unhee cd—the turnings of the
THE SECOND MARRIAGE.
road brought new varieties of hill and dale before them,
but the bridegroomuttered not a word Hismind was evidautly absorbed in the past Mary
”was doubtless again
by his side—and those!o re-storied trees and passion-blighted spots
were bringin back the tender remembrances, the hallowedregrets, whic he had fled to Italy to obliterate. She ven
turad to steal a glance towards him, and saw
were filled with tears. How diflicu lt she found it to restrain
her own —how dis iriting, how bitter was the sense of herown insi ificancemhis eyes,—of her own insuficiency tohis happiness !Arrived at home, the evil did but increase. Not a cham
ber,—not a piece of furniture but was evidently fertile in
associations agonizing to his feelings. Instead of replyingto her questions respecting one or two noble specimens of oldmasters with which the walls of the apartment were adorned.he retired to a distant window , and gazing stedfistly on therespect, seemed determined to conceal his countenance fromr scrutiny. Her first thou ht was to quit the room, and
retire to the one appointed for at use but shewas preventedby the fearof seeming toomuch at home, or wishing to forestal his arran ements. She did not like to inquire of the
housekee r the way toher own apartment, till Redwood hade his choice and intentions, either private] or pub
»
lic y.'
Perhaps, in ignorance or malice, the ol w omanmight point out the identical chamber he had inhabited withhis first wife —her bridal chamber,—her death-bed. Per
haps, if the choice was referred to herself, she, unconsciouslymight fix her preference on the self-same room. And then,how terrible would it be to hear fromthe lips of Sir A lan,for the first time, the name of his deceasedwife l—Supposing
er, No not there —do not choose thatMary
's -i t wasmy wi e’s
But no sooner did Sir Alan recover is self-possession
suficientl to quithis post and turn towards his lady, than hewas struc b
‘ylthe paleness of her face.
“Areyou deares tJuliaI” he inquired, hastening towardsher ; all his tenderness returning at the
’
sight of her troubledcountenance. Has the journey been toomuch for you 2
I amindeed greatly fatigued,”
said she, recoveringsome portion of her bloom, as a blush overspread hercheeks, in terror that Sir Alan so the origin of
THE SECOND MARRIAGE .
Will you lie down on the sofa till dinner time l—Orwould you like to come at once to your own room1
At once tomy own room,” faintly articulated Lady Redwood . But do not letme trouble you ; I dare say Sterlingcan showme the we
No l”replied Sir Alan, proudly, almost sternly, do
n ot denyme the leasure of conducting you thithermyself.It is a happiness have long and eagerly anticipated.
”
With the air of a culprit, Julia accordingl accepted the
armtendered to her support. But as she s owly ascendedthe grand stair case b the side of her husband, the wholescene seemed to swim fore her eyes. Instead of noticingthe fine bronzes decorating the hal l, or themagnificent vasesof Bevres and Mandarin China placed at intervals along the
galleries , her thoughts were engrossed by the consideration,Will he takeme to his old roomf—to her roomt—Does
every thing remain thereas in her time f—Should any triflingobject belonging to hermeethis eye,will his feelings be overc ome by the si ht —andwill he visit uponmehis consciousn ess of infideli ty to hermemory 2”Nor were her terrors wholly groundless. There is not a
spot in the wide world where the force of customis so powerful as in an oldfashioned English countryfiouse. Routine
reigns there with itsmost despotic ru le. In the household
of the genuine squire, it is held. as impossible to break t
elsewhere than in the breakfast-parlour, to dine in any 0
than the dining-room, or hang a
‘
hat in an other place than
the hall, as it would appear to an oflic' man to transact
colonial business at the Home Office, or arrange some diplomatic difliculty by reference to the Board of Control. The
Baronets of Redwood, for the last four generations, had ap
propriated to themselves a certain suite called the North
Rooms, consisting of an ante-room, bed-chamber, and two
dressing-rooms ; and it wou ld have seemed quite as extravagant to Mrs. Haynes, the hou
sekeeper, for themaster of thehouse to inhabit any other portion of it, as that he should
bu ild a nest among the jackdaws in the parish steeple. Sir
Alan, in writing down to the Castle that Lady Redwood andhimselfmight be expected on such a da had desired, ia
deed, explicitly, that the Chintz-roommig t he aired ; but as
he limited his communication to this solitary order, Mrs.
Haynes naturally concluded that somemember of the new
lady’s” famil would accompany them, to whose use it was
destined ; an had been careful todirect thefootman to carry
a
42 run sncortn uaaaraos .
my lady’s trunks and imperials to the North Room, and to
inductmy lady’smaid, Mrs. Sterling, into the same local ity .
When Sir Alan accordio ly threw 0 co the pretty airychamber he had seleoud for is wife, not ing was visible bu t
the noble prospects fromthe w indows, the lofty chintz bed ,and the snowymuslin toilet-table. Therewere no packages ,
0 dressin -boxes, -no Mrs Sterling ; and the truth ia
stant] flash on hismind. He started involuntaryshud er at the
'
idea of the annoyance he had escaped byofl
'
ering himself as Lady Redwood’s conductor. Themove
ment did not escape her. Nothing could be plainer than hisagitation ; and she was now convinced that Mary
” had ac
tuall breathed her last in the lofty chintz bed -had directedher ying eyes to that beautiful landscape, and taken her lastlook of her own faded countenance in that very tiringmirrorIt was well forher that Sir Alan hastily quitted the roomto
givo~orders for the removal of her baggage to hernew apartmeat. or her perturbation could not have passed unnoticed.
was sncosn nxnau os . 43
CHAPTER VIII.
Oh! nobleLoveThat thou couldst be without this jealousy,W ithout this pasi on of the hears—how lovely
Bu s i nes s armFu rcm .
Lanr Rsnwoon had now been two months a wife. Herbridal awkwardness had in some measure worn ofl
'
andshe was now familiarized to the customof sitting at the headof the table, and undergoing all the formal ceremonial ofdinner.
But on entering themagnificent eating-roomat Farminhurst Castle, a new source of embarassment overcameher self
°
on . It was not the sight of themagnificentfamily pictures, the Barons Redwood by Holbein and Z uc
chero, and Baronets by Vandyke, Lely, Kneller, and Ren olds —it was not the gorgeous beauty o f Venetia
Redwood. fromthepencil of Gervas ; or of Selina Lady
Redwood, fromthe and of Hoppner, that suspended herfootste on the threshold —it was, that she was about
hersel to assume the post of;Mary Lady Redwood—it wasthat she was ( bout to occup directly in the eyes of Sir
Alan, the place and station ed b hi s latewife ! As she
advanced towards the board sprea with costly plate, and a
dinner of the most readers“ kind, she almostto find the table full 3
”to see her predecessor,
menacin as the ghost ofBanquo, arise and push
her stoo Sir Alan saw her hesitation ; but, not understanding itsmotive, said and did nothing to assist her.
Thi s long table looks tremendously formal, falteredJulia, flushing scarlet, with the effort shemade to speak.
ran sscoxn l aaaraes.
Will you allow me to have my chair placed nearer to
you l—I think I should like to act company to day, an d sit
at your right hand.
”
Willingly, willingly, cried Sir Alan, for a momentpleased by a proposal that seemed to spring fromthe desire
of being near him. Mansel ! lace Lady Redwood’s chair
here.
” And he looked smilingll
yupon her, and~would haveextended his hand to welcome her to her new seat, but that
he was restrained by the attendance of two or three inquisi
tive servants. He had not, however, finished his soup before
his views of the case were entire] altered. He now con
jectured that the beautifu l Julia disdhined to preside over hishousehold board : that she despised the common-place regualarit of his old-fashionedmansion ; that she was determinedto play the fine lady fromthe beginning, by a refusal to
comply w ith even themost ordinary forms ofmatronly duty .
How often had he heard the equanimity of her temper set
forth by the encomiums of her doating parents ! How often
had Mr. Trevel an assured himthat, fromthe hour of herbirth to that wh ch saw her at the altar, she had never giventhema single moment’s uneasiness ; never frustrated their
will ; never thought or acted but at the suggestion of those
in authority over her Alas, poorman —he had been buteightweeks a husband, and already Lady Redwood had con»
trived to wound his feelings, morti his pride, disturb hisrejadicea, traverse the customs of is house, and alienate'
s child fromhis roof. This was his gentle, sweet, sub
missive bride ; this was the lovely being who, for sixmonthsof careful deliberation , he had watched, examined, probed,assayed, in selfish anxiety to secure himself froman i llassortedmarriage—ou unquiet home !Vexatious, indeed, was that first evening passed at the
over a book.to conceal his distemperature of spirits and countenance.
Lady Redwood'
attributed all this discomposureto the lingering influence of his first wife. But she was mistaken : itwas the second only
-itwas itemlf—who was the cause of
his uneasiness.It is not to be supposed that a friend so hi
ghly“caused
as the worthy Maria Wilmot, had been neg ated. by her
pupil on occasion of the brilliant marriage which
46 rnr. sncoxn nu an ce.
myn-street so uneasy—her journey to the north so tedious
and yet the present irritation had precisely the same effect asher transient Trevelyan Park fits of the sorrowfuls —for itmade her eager for Miss Wilmot’s assuaging ity, M issWilmot’s cheering arguments, Miss Wilmot’s mi d philosophy. As she sat on the evening of her arrival, with her
eyes now intent on her husband’s studies and now on the
ttern of his carpet, shewas revolving in what terms to ad
diess her old friend so as to obtain her counsel and commisaration, without rendering her too anxious, or inducing her
to hasten the return fromItaly ofMr. and Mrs. Trevelyan ,and above all, without inferring an unkind feeling towards
Sir Alan.
Unluckily, the evening was only too propitious to Julia’s
desponding frame ofmind. Summer was already on the
wane , and the Autumn seemed inclined to look in u on theearth and remind it of stormy days to come. A highw indarose during dinner. which now howled desolatel amongthe high old Gothic chimnies, and swept fearful] a ong theechoing corridors. Distant doors (the sound of
ywhich, at
present unfamiliar to her, seemed ominous and. awful) newand then cla pad to with a startling noise. The very
‘
can
dles beside which Sir Alan Redwood sat reading, flared andfleckered with the gusts of wind that enetrated the old fashioned oriel windows. Nothing cou d be more desolatingthan the sounds and sights around her.At length, the butler entered with his tray of bed candle.
sticks, and an inquiry whether her ladyshi chose supper ;and great indeed was the surprise of the 01 man to observe
s the bride-groomseated in his usual reading chair, tranquillyerusing a new number of the Quarterly Review and therideat the op site side of the roomwith a work box Open on
the table near er, but evidently doing nothing and as ing aslittle. If this is new-fashioned hone -mooning,” t oughtoldMansel (as he proceeded to informt e household thatmylady did not eat sup er, and thatMrs. Sterling was to go uptomy lady
’s room give W the old . I never saw Sir
Alan so down-hearted inmy late lady’s time. Pray Heaven
thingsmay be going on right between the young people.
”
According to Lady Redwood’s order, her own maid was
now sauntering up the back staircase to await her in herdressing
-room. Buthad not Julia been afraid of exciting SirAlan
’s surmises, she would certainly have desired Mrs.
Sterling to attend on her at the drawing-roomdoor to aecom
rns snconn HARRIAGE . 47
pany her to her chamber. Between the dis iriting state oftheweather and the train of reflections shehad been ursu
ing, it was far fromagreeable to her to think of crossmg thegreat hall alone. But having lingered a considerable time inthe hope her husbandwou ld hear her company, she suddenlytook up her candle and prepared to quit the room.
Sir Alan who was seriously hurt and displeased, now
raised his eyes fromhis book, with a cold inqu iry, whethershe could find her way ; and Ju lia
’s pride, doubly roused by
his tone of indifference, naturally suggested an answer in the
affirmative. With faltering steps she accordingl made herway along-the dimly illuminated vestibu les andpassages,where the tall bronze statues seemed frowning at her fromtheir niches as she passed. The grand staircase was painted
in fresco w ith devices of some Roman triumph and castingatrembling glance upon its phalanxes, Lady Redwood couldhave almost persuaded herself that the eyes of the centurionsglared ou t fiercely upon her. With hurried footsteps she
hastened along the passage she had traversed before dinner
on Sir Alan Redwood’s arm; but now, in her trepidation
tu bing was easier than temistake the door of her own r’
oorn ,
when'
with a trembling hand she flung open the one she
fancied must belon to the chintz bed-chamber. She was
mistaken . It was t at of an old fashioned apartment seldomused ; and the first thing that greeted her was the funeralachievement of the late Lacy Redwood, w ith its black bordering, and sku ll and cross bones ; which had been taken
down in expectation of her arrival, and put there to be out of
some difliculty Julia refrained fromshrieking aloudas this ill-omened ob
'
ect met ler view . But hastil w ithdrawing fromthe unlucky chamber, she called aloud orMrs.
Sterling, and in aminute the smart person of her attendant
emerged froma door at the further end of the coridor and,for amoment, Lady Redwood’s nervous terrors were tran
quillized .
One of the ha p results of the strict systemof Julia’seducation was a
'
srnclination for familiarit with servants.
She was not in the habit of conversing w ithhermaid on anything but the duties of her calling ; and Mrs. Sterling wouldhave been asmuch astonished at an idle question fromthe
lips of her young mistress, as fromthose of one of the
statues in the hall. Nevertheless, on the present occasion
Lady Redwood would have given worlds for courage to
48 was ss coxn usnau es .
hazard a single sentence with her attendant. But she was
still so young,—so timid,—se apprehensive of provoking
impertinent criticisms, that the words expired on her lips as
she attemted to frame an inqu iry whether the chamber ap
propriate to her use was in truth that of her predecessor.
Mrs. Sterling, meanwhile, catching a few words, managed,to confirmher suspicions. The housekeeper had orders
fromSir Alan ,” she said,“ that ever
ything should be ex
actly as itwas in her late lady’s time ; and the long process
of brushing and curling the present lady: beautiful chesnuthair, and of folding and laying aside the present lady
’s silken
robes, being at length completed, the waiting-woman , tired
by her day’s journey, hastened to light the night-lamp, draw
the bed curtains, and inquire at what hour Lady Redwoodwould lease to be called on the followingmorning -addingthat her late ladyship always breakfasted with Sir Alan, inthe stud at nine o
’clock.
”
Julia l'
rnew not what she answered. She was wonderingwhat construction Sterling would put upon her conduct,should she desire her to stay till hermastermade his appearance. But while still framing the terms of the request so astomake it appear as unimportantat possible, the sleepy woman glided out of the room, and the sleepless one was lefialone—AloneThe wind howled ; a wailing peies seemed mingled with
its whistling usts ; and the flamt of the veilleuse was bowedalmost into rkness, as they swe t too and fro over itscrystal vase. Lady Redwood had istened and listened, forthe retiring footsteps-she heard nothing
she lay half hiddenRedwoodmight be alshould she patientlywas oppressed, when
the bed-chamber, was about to traverse it, when an irres istible imalso induced her to shrink back and close the door.There 18 something in the aspect of a large, dark, deserted,
THE ss conn MARRIAGE . 49
unfamiliar chamber, dimly lighted by a lamp, very un inviting to a person of weak nerves. The thought struck herthat even there the late Lady Redwood had probably lain insolemn preparation for the grave —that there—in that room,
which shemust have often crossed in the happy familiarityof matronly affection to consult w ith her husband, —in that
very roomthe trappings of her funeral arra had probablydarkened the cheerful hangings and displaced the gayfurn iture.
This is childish,—this is degrading !” faltered poor
Julia, as themoisture rose on her brow ; and she sat down
on the nearest chair w ith the veilleuse in her hand, in hopesto regain her strength and courage. Amoment’s space
would suffice to conveyme to dear Redwood’s presence.
In his arms I should forget all these foolish fears. I will
cross the dressing-room.
—What is there to alarmme l ”Again she listened —again the wind how led fearfully in
the corridor. Nay, its voice seemed breathin w ith a ecu
liarlymelancholy inflection fromthe very she ha just
quitted.-Its lon curtains carefully drawn around, now
seemed to exclu e her ; or rather, to conceal some unseen
andmysterious occupant. Itwas there she used to lie -it
was there her expiring breath called upon Redwood’s name ;
—perhaps adjurmg himto be faithful to her memerrhaps,
-I cannot—cannot stay here ; I w ill go to him,
sobbed the agon ized Ju lia ; and again throwing open the
door of the dressing-room, w ith the ordinary impression of
n ervous persons that something was pursu ing her which she
dared not turn round and confront, she crept across theshadow apartment.But, o scarcely had she attained half the way, when the
opposite door opened slowly, and a tall white figure, partlyenveloped in a black drapery, stood before her. She saw
not the face of the spectre ; but with one long piercingshriek, fell insensible on
’
the floor
Von. I.
CHAPTER IX.
Stay illusion fIf thou hast any sound or use of voice,S
fpeak
'
tome !I there be any good thing to be doneThatmay to thee do ease, and grace tome,Speak tome !
IT is an unlucky circumstance, inseparable fromthe formsof civilized life, that domestic catastrophes can no longer
take place w ithout the intervention of servants ; by w hose
voluminous reporting, cases of squabbles between my lordandmy lady at the dinner the breakfast or the supper table,-during an airin in the britschka, or a row on the lake,
are sure to find eir way all over the country. Sir Alan
Redwood’s first impulse on finding his Julia cold and breath
less ou the floor of her dressing-room, was to ring violen tly
for the assistance of her maid ; and both Mrs. Sterling , andthe housekeeper, and even old Mansel, contrived to maketheir appearance on the scene in time to see her lying ia
sensible on the sofa, with master” bending over her, as w ell
as to hear the first incoherent expressions of her retu rni ngconscientiousness. Redwood, Redwood, why did you
bringme hither l—Why exposeme to this horrible v isita
tion —It was necessarily settled in the steward’s roomthe
followingmorning, that my lady had seen somethingMy lady
’s”
popu larit in her new household, which hadalready assumed a very oubtfu l aspect, was now at an en d .
If their poor dear first lady could not rest in her grave because of Sir Alan
’s giving such a stepmother to poor dear
little Miss Mary, the casemust be very had indeed The
under-housemaid protested shewould not stand inmy lady ’s
r n n SECOND a s s u me . 5]
shoes, not for the vally of all the’state of Farminghurst
Castle and one very nervous laundry-maid,much addict
ed to novels and green tea, actually resigned office, and wentto wring wet linen and her own hands in some less ghostlyestablishment.”The first thing accordingly that transpired of the new
Lady Redwood in the neighbouring town of Farmington ,was that the castle became haunted fromthemoment she setfoot in it ; and that she was a proud, arrogant, hoity
-toitywoman , who wou ld not so much w ait at the head of herhusband’s table ! Rumours, like clouds, gather as they go.
The children belonging to the late Lady Redwood’s various
village schools, having imperfectly caught the general tenor
of the reports gossipped over beside the cottage hearths,mistaking the eifect for the cause, insisted that the new ladyherself was the spectral apparition ; and the first time poorJulia, recovering fromher temporary indisposition , drovedown to the village in the ony
-cart with her husband, a
general consternation seemedto seize the little congregationdrawn out for her inspection . Instead of receiving with joyful gratitude the largesse bestowed upon themby their newpatroness,
—instead of looking with admiration on her sno
robes and beautiful face, the trembling urchins held togetherby the hand w ith looks of terror and aversion , and regardedher benefaction as fairymoney,” likely to bringmisfortuneson the possessor.
Tears came into Lad Redwood’s eyes as she quitted the
school-house. She cou not blind herself to the ungraciousmode of her reception,
—to the stern glances bent on her bythe schoolmistress,—to the loathing looks of the poor children . I see how it is,
”thought she, as the pon -chaise
jolted along a beautiful green lane, matted with haze bushesand fragrant w ith honeysuckle ;
“ they were too long the
objects of the first Lady Redwood’s bounty to look on me
w ithout disgust. They regardme as an interloper -I will
n ever go among themagain .
”
I trust, dearest Julia,”whispered Sir Alan, leased to
see the old people totter to the doors of the sever cottages
tomake an obeisance to his beautiful bride, I trust you will
find an interesting source of new tion in promoting thew elfare of these poor creatures. I ave been accustomed toregard themas a charge committed to my guardianship. I
amsure you will aidme in the discharge of so sacred a duty ;-I amsure you will visit and comfort themI
”
52 THE sseonn u sanu en.
I have been accustomed ”sounded in the ears of poor Lady
Redwood very like Mary and I were accustomed.
” Her
heart, which was aching before, rebelled against the instiga
tion .“ I can trust to Sterling,
”said she,
“ to be my delete. Papa never likedme to go into the cottages at Trevefiihn he fanciedmy healthmight suffer.
”
Stung to theheart by her cold selfishness, Sir Alan uncon
sciously administered a sharp cutof thewhip to the littleShetland he was driving. Hard-heartedness in a woman is a
hideous thing—hard-heartedness in aw ife is a revolting one ;
hard heartedness in Julia—the beauty, theheiress, thefavou redof Heaven , a or ing sin ! Hemight perhapshavebeen temptedto give vent to is feelings, but that they were now en teringthe Vicarage-lane ; and that a low aling, surmounted by a
wall of Portugal laurel, dominate by six tall steeples of
poplar trees, ancient and stalwart andmossy, soon proclaimedthemto have arrived at their destination . Although she had
set out with the intention of a bridal visit to Dr. and Mrs.
Hobart, the vicar and vicaress of Parmington , Lady Redwood would now have w illingly declined the exertion ; but
on mentioning to Sir Alan that she was suffering froman
excruciating head-ash, his hasty reply demonstrated that theVicarage visit was inevitable. Remembering the brilliant
bloomwith which she hadmadeher a pearance at the breakfast table, and unaware of the painfu impressions she hadbeen imbibing at the school-house, he did not hesitate to
attribute her plea to caprice or affectation. She wanted to
play the fine lady to Mrs. Hobart, or the despot to himself.Resistance was useless Julia, mildly submitting to his decree, soon found herself stepping fromthe chaise under a
porch covered with a profusion of the sweet scented clamatis.
Having reached the parlour, a small compact woodenfigure, in a slate coloured gown, rose, curtsied, and pointedto a ver severe looking arm-chair ; and poor Lady Redwoodfound t at her husband’s announcement of Mrs. Hobart’s
cold formality of address had not been overcharged. After
twominute’s silence, broken by a polite inqu iry fromSir
Alan after his friend Hobart,”the fi ure rose again , and
rang the bell ; when the footboy who ad ushered theminhavingmade his re-appearance and ducked his head to his
silentmistress bymeans of a tug inflicted on the central lookof a she gy redmane, she desired himto ste to the vestry,and let t e Doctor know Sir Alan andmy La y were there.
T I E SECOND MARRIAGE.
bonfire—by rendering themnot only few and far between,but by giving utterance to his oracles in an unintelligible
whisper. He would not inquire of one of his tithepayingfarmers after the health of his cart-horse w ithout taking himaside for so interesting an investigation
—was always to be
found wispering in a window seat at the squirearchical din
ners of the parish—and shook his head with asmuchmys
terious emphasis while bargaining in a corner for some old
higgler’s new laid eggs, as wou ld have procured himcon
siderable deference at a visitation dinner of the diocese.
But if somysterious the course of his intercourse w ith the
every day world, what was the extent of his empty solemn ityin his commun ication with his patron l—In presence of Sir
Alan , his aspect grew as hieroglyphical as the Pyramidshis face was a mystery” w ithout being a
“beauty-his
discourse all periphrasis—his nodeand winks
”w ere preg
nantwith emphasis and implication ; and as to his wreathed
smi les,” not a simper of thembut contained a judicial verdict —Not a word did the Doctor utter, but
“denoted a fore
gone conclusion ; his dissertations (without a key) were as
incomprehensible as a fashionable novel ; and his allusions
to certain persons,” -and certain events,
” -and one
who shall be nameless,” and amutual friend of ours whomit is needless to specify,
”wou ld have defied the exposition
of Messieurs Boswell, Croker, or Thomas Hill.His ko-tou to the bride reverentially but silently performed,
Dr. Hobart commenced an inqui part] b signs and
hols, and partly by word ofmou'
th, whet er Sir Alan adreceived his letter of the Sl st instant, relative to an interesting occurrence —and whether he might consider himselfjustified in the inferences he had formed on the occasion ,relative to his tron
’s w ishes on a certain head t”
Redwood, a beit, well-used to the Vicar’s tendency to
monster his own nothings, and those of other peo lo, cou ldscarcely refrain froma smile as he proceeded to invest hisreply to the question in the plain English of Yes,my dearDoctor and I have no doubt Lad Redwoodwill like greenhaizehassocks quite as well as red; but Hobart was not tobe defrauded of his opportunity. It might su it the proprietor of Farminghurst Castle to admit his womankind” intothe cabinet council ; but the proprietor of Farmington Vicarage knew better. He was well aware by whatmeans hehad succeded in enshrining himself as a divinity, -a Ma nus
Apollo, -a Socrates in a surplice,—ia the eyes of his
°
ttle
run st oonn MARRIAGE. 55
Dutch doll of a wife -and had no mind to rend in her
presence, the vail of his Temple of Mystery .
Laying violent hands on the button of the Baronet, heaccordingly drew himinto the furthest window,
-placed him
w ith his back to the ladies—and left nothing visible to theanxious Ju lia but his own self-important face —creaming andmantling like the standing pool, and foreshowing the nature
of a tragic volume.
What could they be talking about ? What could the Doctorbe sayin to Sir Alan in that sympathizing tone, that depre
cating w isper, which required the enforcement of so muchshaking of his well-powdered head, somuchwagging of his
forefinger, somany furtive glances towards herself, to ascer
tain that she was not listening —ao many whispered butaud ible injunctions to the Baronet to speak lower —to te
member that they were not alone l—now and then , an italic
ized word reached her ears through the measured drone ofMr. Hobart’s wishy
-washy conversation ; such as, poor
thing the feelings of a woman so circumstanced ; a
voice addressing us fromthe grave and without the least
suspecting that them tery enveloped a commun ication fromHobart, as vicar, to edwood, as magistrate, concerning a
peccadillo of one of the female parishioners of the former,who was expiating the laxity of hermorals on the treadmillupon six ounces of bread per diem, she referred every inter
jection, every si h and evey grimace, to some direful circumstance connecte with his former patroness.
I will step up to the Castle, and have a fewminutes’private conversation with you on the subject,
”was the Doc
tor’s concluding sentence, when Sir Alan , to the eminent
peril of his button, at length tore himself fromthe window
seat.
Do, Doctor,”
said Redwood, enchanted to have pro
cured even a short res ite. Y ou will alwa 3 findme opento your arguments ut the less I hear on t is painful sub
ject the better. It is now too late.”
Too late —Poor Julia.
The visit was soon at end ; but not so the increased and
increasin distress arising to Lady Redwood fromDr.
Hobart’sdiplomatic toneand impressive pantomine. Although
Sir Alan was keenly alive to hi s Vicar’s foible, be respected
himtoomuch as a goodman to hold himup to ridicule for
not being a wise one ; and instead of pointing out to Julia, or
van admitting thathehad not a grain of confidence in Dr
56 ru n sscoxn ru anu es.
Hobart, nor the slightest inclination for the numberlessprivate audiences insisted on by that worthy divine, he c on
sidered it his duty tomaintain the importance of the Vicar
of Farmington, in the eyes of his hou sehold, by indu lg ingthose little innocent vagaries of his self-im rtance w hich
did no harmto either of them. Whenever t eman of mystery visited the Castle, Sir Alan either w ithdrew w ith himto
the library. or talked w ith himinmysteriouswhispers at the
furthest extremity of the room; and it was really no great
stretch of Lady Redwood’smorbid sensibility to believe that
weighty business was transacted between them, in which she
was not suffered to participate ; that they had a secret in comman of painful import and unequalled interest. Sometimesthe name of Walpole transpired amid their whispers and
though it arose only fromDr. Hobart’s inquir after the old
lady’s rheumatismwhen she last wrote, Julia no longer
doubted that the gentleman in blackwas in collusion with thatdreadful family ; and that, in all probability, he transmittedto Weymouth a regular diary of the proceedings at the
Castle. And this was the individual w ith whoma largefraction of her country life would be passed
—this was theman who was to dine with her every Saturday,—exhort herevery Sunday,
—regulate her beneficence to the poor, —andher ‘ intercou rse w ith those whose young ideas were beingtaught to shoot at her cost and care ! Dr. and Mrs. Hobart,and a husband whose heart was wedded to the grave, werethe companions destined to re lace her doating rents , herdiscriminating friendMissWimot. She almost onged to beback again on the once familiar gravel-walk at TrevelyanPark. Na shewould have swallowed thebitterest con coction devise by themalice of Buchan, only to feel her father’shand laid in benediction on her head, or hermother’s sh apedin yet tenderer endearmentwithin her own 2
was snconn MARRIAGE . 57
CHAPTER IX .
A goodly spot,W ith lawns, and beds of flowers, and shadesOf trelhce-work in long arcades,And cirque and crescent, framedOf close-clipt forlsge, green and
,
Converging walks and fountains a
And terraces in trimarray. a answosrn .
I r is very well for hilosophers, who dry up their tearsw ith
the dust ofmould ibraries, to affect superiority to the ordi
n ary vexations oflife . But of what but petty cares and petty
p leasures, is the grand sumtotal of destiny composed ? He
r oes and heroines bear a small proportion to the mightymultitude of their fellow-creatures ; and for one individual
w ho parishes by the Brobdignagian sabreocut, a thousand
are exposed to Lilliputian warfare ; ten thousand doomed tothe pin
’s-prickmartyrdomof trivial afflictions.
Lady Redwood had youth, beauty, virtue, fortune -was
blest in affectionate arents and a husband of her own select
tion . But it was c ear that she was fated to be ami serablewoman : a single clear strif
ying drop was incessantl
ydrip
ping upon her head nu chil ing her to stone. The eauti
fu l park of Farminghurst attracted day by day a host of
admiring visitors to expatiate on the majesty of its woods ,the variety of its prospects ; but to the eye of the fair crea
ture to whomthey were as the d d-haunt of daily life,they said nothing,
-less than not ing-her fancy was
d isenchanted,—the blight of disappointment was already on
her young heart l—Without sister or brother or congenial
spirit to exhaust the early impulses of her warmaffections,without romantic associations or romantic studies to exalt
58 r un snoos n nannu on.
her imagination orbewilder her passions—Julia Trevelyan
’
feelings had flowed undeviatingly in the pure channelmarkedou t by nature. She had loved her tiresome father andmother dutifull and patiently
— she had prepared herself to love
her highly-gifted husband passionately and exclusively .
Was he nother chosen one, her own , —her only —the companion of hermortal pilgrimage,—the partner of its crowning immortality.
By howmany chilling negatives were these and similarquestions 0 be frozen into silence —No ! he was not hers
never, never cou ld be hers.—He belonged to his dead w ife !
—his living child, —to the whole tribe of Walpole,—to any
and every one but her -to the mysterious vicar,—the importunate bailifi
'
,—to stewards, tenants, gamekeepers, and
constables ? Everv human being at Farminghurst seemedto have a claimon his time, a title to his personal interest.
Did he accompan his bride in a morning ride, every farmerwho approached had his
(private tale to disclose, his peti
tions to advance to his Ian lord, regardless of the value pla
sed by the repining Julia on every word proceeding fromRedwood
’s li 5, every glance emanating fromRedw ood
’s
eyes . Did 3 e persuade him, on their return, to adjournw ith her to the library, and lavish the delightful hourof leisure preceding the dinner-bell on new books, oldengravings, or passages froma favourite author shared in
common,—themysterious vicar was sure to drop in, w ith a
(i ce as secret as a despatch box, to draw his patron to a
distant w indow, and engage himin discourse, in which SirAlan
’s air of absorbed attention plainly denoted his inter
est. In amoment he seemed to forget her presence, and to hecome indifferent to her embarrassment. Nay she cou ld notsomuch as reckon on an unmolested stroll with himthroughthe beautifu l shrubberies. E very minute the head gar
dener was at their side, -imploring instructions, demonstrating impossibilities, and courting praise fromhis masterwhile Julia, instead of rewarding himwith her approval,fi rly wished himat the bottomof one of his much vaunted
melon pits.
Now had Lady Redwood been assured of possessing herhusband’s entire afl
'
ection , -had she felt satisfied that, conferwith whomhe would, -debate w ith whomhe mush—shewas the one sole object to which inclination would haved irected his time and thoughts, vicar, steward, bailifl;butler, down to the game-keeper’s crop-cared terrier, might
rnn seconn uaanu en . 59
have shared his attention without exciting her uneasiness.
She wou ld have entered into all his solicitudes,—a]lhis pursuits -nor envied a single whisper, nor been jealous of a
single as par ts audience. But a woman whosemind is perplexed by doubts of her husband
’s attachment, sees mischief
in every thing. She persuaded herself indeed that a husbandof but two months standing, Ought to feel as impatient asherself of Dr. Hobart
’s importunities,—as indifferent as her
own heart to the fall of his timber and the rise of his underwood. If the vulgar cares of life were thus earl to breakin upon their intercourse, where was that blesse that nu
interrupted communion of wedded hearts, for which somanywell-rhymed stanzas had bespoken her admiration —ou
which somuch metre and much pains” have been fromtime immemorial thrown away. Oh those oetical dreamsof her youth
-those visions of the starry s y, the floweryvallies, and the quiet woods, enjoyed in sympathizing loneliness with theman of her heart,—of her choice, -her better,her far more precious self ! Was all to end in colloqu ies
with the game-keeper about breaking a litter of setter-pup
pies,—or w ith a Scotch gardener about the best mode of
cultivating the hundred-headed cabbage l
—Here was an endfor her romance -here a commencement of the commonplace realities of life —Was itworth while to lavish the pureincense of her heart, that
Rose likea streamof rich distilled perfumes,on one who caredmore for themash about to be administered to his favouritemare, than fora walk with her bymoonlight on the terrace l—and who preferred a debate w ith theDoctor touching the new tiling of the workhouse, to her own
quotations fromByron and Mrs. Hemans l The thing wasonly too apparent l
—Nothing but a heart whose energies
were destroyed,-a mind whose polish was worn off by de
votion to one pre-engrossing object, could be capable of such
trifling, such palt suchmercena worldliness 1
It had been we for a woman t us misguided, to havebeen un ited with a husband stationed somewhat higher,or somewhat lower, in the scale of human dignities ; w ithone who possessed no delegates to require his superinten»
dence, or a dignity too supreme to admit of contactw ith them.
He was just planted on that round of fortune’s ladder best
calculated to add to the amount of her cares.People who brood over their sorrows, are usually success
60 run snconn MARRIAGE.
ful in hatching a numerous cove and those who sit nu rs
ing their rage to keep it warm,
’are sure of a comfortable
temperature of indignation . Solitarymeditation di d b ut d istort themediumthrough which Sir Alan Redwood’s condu ct
was viewed by his wife ; and at length, afier a dialogu e w ith
herself of which the arguments were only too unan imous ,she took a sudden resolution , about as discreet and jud ic iousas all sudden resolutions of ladies of twenty
-one, Whether
wives ormaidens. I will repress this glow ing tenderness,"
said she. I willmeet his coldness with coldness. Since
he can interest himself w ith trifles, let me seek obj ects of
interest equally trivial ; since his pursuits are~
of so absorbinga natu re, letme create tomyself amusement froma thou sand
neglected sources. I w il l resumemy drawing,my etching,—all the occupations which affordedme so much gratification ere I became acquainted w ith Redwood . He gives his
attention to the plantations and orchards, -J w ill has myself in improving the flower garden —he puts his exclusiveconfidence in Dr. Hobart, I willmake a friend (a friend !) ofthe Vicar
’s w ife.
Of these intentions, the second was at once the easiest and
pleasantest of execution . It possessed even the charmof
novelty ; for notwithstanding Julia’s rustic education and
feminine passion for flowers, gardening was among Mr.
Trevelyan’s numerous interdictions, as a source of catarrhs
and an enemy to the complexion . In her own old home, Ju liahad possessed a little square ugly nook called her garden ;duly dug and planted by the under gardener, and weeded byseven ragged boys fromthe park lodge. But she had never
yet enjoyed the glorious rivilege of planting, uprooting,—raising the rustic temp e,
-and destroying the obsolete
grotto.
Now the gardens at Farminghurstwere certainly as well
calculated for improvement as Repton himself cou ld havedesired. There was a labyrinth of brick walls and loftyterraces, with balustrades and vases of stone -a pleasaunce
stuck w ith statues and yew-trees ; and a Dutch garden , of
which the sun-dial in the centre stood towering above the
tulip and polyanthus beds, and vying in solitary gran deur
w ith the column in the PlaceVendome. All was surpassinglyfrightful ; and as the genius of harmony was not likely to
descend and whisper to itsmistress that the whole was incurious and remarkable unison w ith the heavy gables and
8 1xteenth century architecture of the castle, there seemed
62 u msncos n nann i es .
chasing sails and changeful hues, gladdened the ties of the
del ighted Julia l—Having caused the rustic ben ori
ally placed under shade of the branching magnolia, to bedisencumbered of the w ithering shrubs scattered around, an d
stationed on the spot she had selected for the site of the
chalet, Lady Redwood sat herself contentedly down to con
template the beautiful landscape she seemed tointo existence
There is somethin peculiarly pleasing in the combinationofmovement and stifineminherent in every extensive pros
pect. The loft platform, perched like a green nest on the
edge of the hil commanded a beautiful stretch of wood
lands shelving to the sea. A thriving village stood on a
detached acclivity to the”
eastward ; the verymovemen t of
whose windmill with themeasured sw irl of i ts sails, servedto animate the scene. The soft, nobly rounded tops of the
oak trees below, formed a rich foreground ; and at a distance(its dolphin like tints varying w ith the reflection of the
clouds sailing above) shone themajestic ccestmoving impulseof the created earth.
It was a lovely scene—a soothing spot. The hummingof the insects among the branches, the distant call of theherdsboys gathering their cattle in the pastures, and now
and then a blackbird waking up the mellow gurgle of itsevening song, alone disturbed the deep tranqu illityJulia sat drinking in the balmylbreath of evening, rich w iththe fragrance of the crushed grass and the aromatic exhs lations of the pine trees, her heart felt freshened and herspirits brightened. She seemed to rise superior to the pettycares bywhich she had sufl
'
ered herself to become oppressed ;-to rejoice in the beauty of the external frame of nature
so recognize the beneflcence of themighty hand that spreadsits gifts so bounteously around us, and still hovers over itsworks as if awaiting fresh occasion to beautify and blessShe began to recognise with thankfnlness the pro ofher own situation . Her parents too would shortly mEngland, —would soon be with her ;n—would sit w ith her on
that .very spot -and rejoice w ith her in the brightness ofher destiny. Yes -she felt that she was now happy, or on
the point of becoming so —that she shou ld soon be as lighthearted as ever, -recover her spirits, her bloom, herAl as 1 what sudden spectacle caused the qu ick blood to
mount into her cheeks ; and suspended this happy progress
ms ssconn mann a“ ; 63
of thought and feeling‘
l—What did she behold what hear-what apprehend—to induce that air of consternation 1Never before had the approach of her husband produced
so strange an emotion ! A rustling of the bushes havingcaused her to turn her head while summing up her vast
amount of means of happiness, she was struck by the sightof Sir Alan standing motionless by her side ; his lookshaggard,—his lips quiveringf—his eyes sparkling w ithindignation l
Who has done this ? —cried Redwood, pointing to theuprooted trees, and disordered turf. What accursed handhas dared to invade this sacred—sacred Spot l
—Rather hadmy right armbeen cut ofl
'
, than one branch of yondermagnolia touched ; rather had they takenmy heart’s blood, thanpresumed to lay their finger on a single blade of grass. It
was hers Mary, —Mary, -is this the way in which Ihave ke t my promise -is this. the guardianshi I have
exercise over your favourite haunt-Hewrung is hands
distractedly, as he spoke, w ithmany an abhorrent glanceover the scene of devastation.
J
But Julia was now beyond reach of his adjurations. She
could no longer hear his cruel words-n un longer trembleunder the terrible ex ression of his countenance—aha b ycold and senseless at
'
s feet.
64 an : moons unann ou
CHAPTER XI;
Out of hermost abundant'sobemasForc’d himto blow as high as she, os
’t followHemust renew that long
-since buried tempestWith this sofimaid ? Tm: Tu lsa Tu ri n.
h was scarcely a week after this distressing occurrence,
thatMr. and Mrs. Trevelyan arrived suddenly at the Castle.
Loving their onlychild so tenderly, and with so Sure a trust
in her reciprocation of afl'
ection , they had taken it into their
heads tomake their appearance w ithout previous announce
ment, in order to give her what they called an agreeable
surprise. Clearer-sighted people would have been aw are
that surprises (excepting in a pantomirne) are never agree
able. Lady Redwood, who knew not of their arrival in
England and believed themstill in Paris, was very ill pre
pared to afford the welcome they expected. Recent indispositiou imparted languor to her address and listlessness to herair ; and therewas no longer a single impulse of joy stirringin her bosom.
Mr. and Mrs Trevelyan had expected indeed to see herweep in the joy of seeing themagain—had expected to weepthemselves —the were prepared for a general overflow oftears. But the id not expect the flood to be of long du ration . Satisfied
,
that the sunshine of Julia’s sweet smi leswould very soon re-irradiate the scene, the lively tones of her
ioice would again yield delight and gladness to their oldcarts.
But they were disappointed ! Lady Redwood, after thefirst burst of surprise and emotion, regained the statue-likepaleness and immobility which were now becoming habitu alto her. The tears dried in her eyes, but it was only to be
m moan ru n n er. 65
succeeded by the glassy vacant stare of a half-alienatedmind.
The shriek of her amazement wasmomentary ; but, insteadof giving place to joyful tender expressions of welcome, ahoarse brokenmurmur seemed to have usurped her formersweet intonation . Fortu nately Sir A lan was absent—goneto fulfil hismagisterial dutiesmthe neighbouring town ; or
ld certainly have been a to take offence at tho involautery exclamations of pitym regret with which the wondering parents contemp
lated their altered child -themortification expressed b o d Trevelyan , that he had ever sufferedher to encounter t e searching . atmosphere of Yorkshire,instead of her own soft breezes of the west -and the hintsthrown out by the poormother, that her chi ld was loss happyand loss cared~for than she expected to be -Ou Julia’s earthese insinuations fell innocuous. It was not what the
her parents thought, indispamgemento f her condition , that constituted its shame or
sorrow -it was that, according to the pathetic phrase of theBoothby monument, M she hadr ventured her store of hapines in o ne frail bark, and that the wreck was total l
”
ad been her sole wish, her hepe, her trust, to'
triumph inthe exclusive affection . of her husband and di sappointed inthat blessed aspiration , her after life was a blank.
‘ 9 Tellme, Julia, my 'love,” inquired her methor, trying
to engage her in general conversation , as they sat togetherafter dinner in the va t comfortléss saloon (which Lady Redwood wanted courage or energy to rendermoremodern izedlyhabitable ) who presented you at the drawing-roomf!”
I did not go. The weather was oppressive ; and SirAlan was not particularly anxious on the
'subject.
”
Youmust have been languid fromdebility to suffer somuch fromthe heat. I hope,my love, you saw Sir Henry
No, indeed, Papa l Redwood was of Opin ion that thebracing : air of Farmhtghurst would restore me ; and yousee,
”she continued , faintly smiling, that he has proved a
true prophet.”
Never saw you looking wbrse in your life 1”cried old
T revelyan . I wish to goodness I had brought down somesu lphate of.quinine.
”
And how did . you like the Duchess of Wearmouth t”inqu ired his wife.
I d id not see her.”
66 s ummons . trauma s .
boss cried Mrs.
up for a day or two, to bring the
blushing den ly.
are the relatives of the late LadyRedwood. It was to his own connexions Sir Alan ought
to have introduced his wi fe.
"
And would , had I desired it. But my chief object wasto get into the country.
”
Probably he has not even presented you with the familyjewels t—Have you your diamonds yet, Julia
I fancy they are at the banker’s. It would have been
absurd, you know, to bring themdown here, where we see
so little company.
”
But ”by see so r neighbourhood
is a very .good one, over, I conclude.by this tinted
"
Yea—quiteover! "responded Julia, sighingThen why not comply with the customs of
receive your neighbours as they ought to be rhouse like this i”
We have had but little leisure sincew e cm here,"ren
plied Lady Redwood, unwill ing to admit the want of barmony between herself and herhusband, which
dared the presence of strangers so embarrassing . BatSir
Alan was saying yesterday, that as soon as the Walpoles
came down to assistme in doing the honours, we ought tosend out our invitations.
”
TheWalpoles again cried the old lady. What havethe Walpoles to do with your roeeedings
‘
l Surely,-my
dear Julia, the customs of Trove yan Park have quali fied
you to preside over Farminghurst Castle, without therentian of suchpeople as theWalpoles 2
”
t‘ Sir Alan has a very high opinion of thorn.”
Which need not induce himto depreciate his wife. It istime that things were put on a difl
'
erent footing,’
M y Mrs. Trevelyan. I shall take care that
of a child ofmineMy dear, dear mother ! interrupted Lady Redwood.
ran snooun r u nn er. 67
clasping her arms round Mrs. Trevelyan , as she sat besideher on the sofa. If you value my comfort, you w ill notinterfere betwixtme andmy husband. M happiness is justnow hanging on a thread. Touch it wit ever so delicate,so tender a hand, and it will snap asunder. You must nottalk to Redwood of the Walpole family ; youmust not torment himabout diamonds and drawing-rooms youmust notu rge himinto seeing more company at Farminghurst thansuits his convenience. Youmust not ; indeed youmust not l-If you loveme, you w ill promise to desist fromall these
things.-You do loveme -
you will promise l”My dear child,
”cried poorMrs. Trevelyan visibly aflect
ed, I was inhopes I shou ld see and hear nomore of these
nervous tremors. You remindme, Julia, of those disagreeablemoments at Rome, when you were still in doubt respecting Sir Alan
’s attachment.”
Do I remind you of those moments l” ejaculated Julia,withdraw ing her arms. And she whispered to herself that
even that nicd (if suspense was preferable to her present
certainty 0 his sentiments.The old squire,meanwhile, having been absorbed in a
dee reverie, fancied he hadmade a notable discovery. Ever
rea y to espy a physical cause formoral effects, it suddenlyoccurred to himthat all his darling Julia’8 shillin gs, paleness, and nervous emotions, were attributable to the prospectof a little heir to Farminghurst Castle ; and, vexed that he
had said any thing to embarrass her, he now cut short the
cou rse of his lady’s catechism, and began to relate the adven
tures of their own journey fromItaly, for the amusement ofhis daughter ; laughing at all the dull jests of his own nar.
retive, and lime ing it was Julia who diverted and dwellingw ith considera ls emphasis on certain situations and inci
dents which he found highly interesting, but which fell un
heeded on the vacant ear of poor Lad Redwood.
The old gentleman’s illusion coul not last forever ; norhad he been twenty
-four hours under the roof of his sen o ia
law, before a dispassionate review of his own and his wife’s
observations , conjectures, and apprehensions, aided by the
hints and implications of Mrs. Trovel’smaid, sufficed to
convince himthat his Julia was an tings-
Spy woman- a neg.
leeted wife I
What shall we do, -what can we do 1” cried poor Mm.
Trevelyan, wringing her hands as she walked up and down
her dressing-room, after a cabinet council with her husband.
68 J an arson» nu an ce.
In in its of all our care andcaution, that our precious childshoul fall into the hands of a brute
We. have no evidence entitling us to use so harsh a
term.
What l—whmyou hear. that the poor dear girl hastwice been found senseless in his arms 2”
She seems in a very weak state ofhealth. poor dear
perhaps she wants tonics.”
And what has reduced her to a weak state of hea lth 2She was always
'
well enough and
yan Park. She was even well
this heartlsss man first intruded
But Ldoubt whether she.will ever hewell orhappy again.
Ah !m poor dear Julia-little did she deserve to befin.
i ted wit such a destiny l”
Hush,my dear, hush -You saw how anxious’
the poorchild was that we. should be cautious inmeddling w ith herdomestic sl ain .
”
And yet you affect to doubt thather husband is unkind!What but actual, positive, andmost severe unkindness couldserr
'
her to such a degree l—Ah, Mr. Trevelyan l the case
is on y too lain .; -I amconvinced he uses her like a dog.
"
Well, on’t convinceme so, if you can help it ; for w ere
it once proved, he should die the death of one, if ever Provideuce put strength into a father
’s arm‘
b—But what chancehave we of obtaining her confidencelr
”.
Sir Alan will be here to-morrow. You.must int outto him, without warning Julia of your intention, t herhealth requ iresamilder atmosphere andask his permissionto take herback withus to Trevelyan Park.
"
Will sheever find courage to second the proposal 1We must place the necessity of the case in so strong a
pointof view as to leave himn o alternative.”
Atworst, I can but and (where Iwould fain begin) w ithperemptorymeasures for, by fairmeans or foul , Julia shallaccompany us home to Cornwall, ormy name is not Rich.
ard Trevelyan l"
Thereproved, however, no occasion for the threat. Pairmeans were lperfectly successful, so far as regarded the ac
complishment of the object ; but so for are regarded the advancement of their daughter’s welfare, the wisdomof Mr.
and Mrs Trevelyan’s tactics ismuch to be doubted;
in Julia’s presence they first proposed their reject for thesanction of Sir Alan ; who, having, in the impu lse of
70 run croos n I ARBIAGE.
CHAPTER XII.
We shall write to on
As time and our concernings s all importane,How it goes with us ; and do look to knowWhat doth befall you here. So fare you well.
Mu scat roa M u s cat
HAD Mr. and Mrs. Trevelyan been aware of the exact
nature of the duty they undertook in removing their darlingJulia fromthe protection of her barbarous husband, n ot even
their tendernesswould have adventured so arduous a task.
But with their usual opacity of vision, they were d eceived
to the lastmoment —were persuaded that Lady Redwood’s
expressions of anxiety to quit Farminghurst were genu ine,and that the wild merriment burstin
gat intervals fromher
lips, even on the verymorning of aperture, arose fromapleasurable excitement. They saw not—they heard not
they had not soul to know or dream, that it sprang fromthebitterness of a deceived and breaking heart!The flush upon her cheek, indded, filled themw ith con
stemation . Regardingitas a hectic symptom, the w ere all
eagerness to remove her fromYorkshi re to themi (1 breezesof her natal atmosphere. But when (the portal past,—the
last lodge—the last glen—the last wood of Farmin ghurstleft behind and out of sight,) they saw their daughter sinkheavily into the corner of the carriage, her hands c rossed
despairingly on. her bosom, and the feverish glow of hercheek fadin suddenly into the paleness of marble, Mr . andMrs. Treve yan began to fanc that the state of her healthwas more perilous than theyhad imagined ; and that shewould scarcel bear the fatigue of so long a journey. Theynow blamed t emselves for the responsibility they had ia
ran snconn nannu c s . 71
curred in the eyes of Sir Alan Redwood and half resolvedto dispatch a letter back to the Castle, requesting he wou ldfollow themas soon as possible to Trevelyan Park. Nothingbut the apprehension of accelerating the progres s of Julia
’s
disorder by the agitation attendant on the unwelcome appearance of her tyrant, induced themto postpone this ill-judgingdetermination .
Lady Redwood did, however, hear her journey withoutinconvenience; and the interest of revisiting the abode of herchildhood did , for a single moment, disperse the mournfulclouds gathered around her brows. But her heaviness ofspirit come again onl themore painfully for its momentarysuspension. Nay, t ere was somethin in the unnaturalisolation of her new position that seeme to strike her withdouble force, now that she found herself ain the dwelling
s
place of her vir a years. It seemed as if
she had or e the flowers of or destiny-that nothing
was left for at but its,withering leaves, its bowed and faded
stem -that Hope, the butterfly which once fluttered amid itsperished blossoms was lying dead in the dust ; that the beethat sanguine gatherer of its hone -had deserted a thingwhich now rendered back nothi but bitterness -that the
hifi
rfdl sweets were gone—that
I
lie eternal winter was at.
a
If the Trevelyans had indu lged the flattering illusion that
changeof air!and scenewould bring back healthand strength
to their feeble charge , they were quickly undeceived. Fromthe moment she arrived at her old home (which rose before
her eyes as amonument to her departed happiness) her stepgrew heavier—her breath shorter—her e
yemore languid
her pulsemore fluttering—The Cornislph sicians, who
had seen her depart three yea rs before in a the'bloomandelasticity of girlhood, shook their heads as the
ynoted her
arched lips and hollow eyes, and listened to t a nervous
uskiness of her It happened that their visits were
pa id imnediately after the daily arrival of the post, when
the excitement of expecting a letter fromFarminghurst andthe subsequent di pointment of her expectations, filled her
veins with fire aidher nerves with irritation . Unable toac count for the stir of pulse perceptible in her frame, theyfollowed the course systematically pursued by persons accustomed to watch over English constitutions, and attributedthemischief they could not develop to the.existence of latent
consumption. Although the lungs, they admitted, were not
72 ru n ssconn nas a l /tan.
at present afl'
ected, they deprecated all exposure to atmospheric changes, and desi red that their patientshould be atonce
amused and kept quiet. The lungs -w ith the heart so
near, that they should remain blind, deaf, and insensible to
its influence !
Meanwhile Lady Redwood profited by the privilege of an
invalid to write no letters and see no company. After the
few formal lines in which she officially announced to Sir
Alan, her arrival at dear Trevelyan after a safe and de
lightful journey,”she resolutely refrained fromaddressing
him. What indeed could she have said. debarred fromre
ference to the one sacred subject uppermost in hetmind !Or how could she have addressed himon common place
topics, Whileher whole soul was withered up by the shadow
of the unsurmountable barrier existent between them2With respect to soc iety, it had been her intention in accept
a
ing her parents’invitation, to play her part of excellent dis
sembling to its utmost limit ; to smile, talk, and apparentlyenjoy herself as she had been wont to do, among her earlyfriends and connexions. But the first few days past at Trevelyan proved her incompetency to , such e xertions . The
neighbouring squirearchy—~ who came thronging to the
to welcome back their fellow squire and squ iress, andto wonderful tales of their Italian travels, —regardingsojourn w ith her family as the visit of an onl child to heradoria parents, tortured her with facetious r crenees to her
absent usband, inquiries respecting the probability of his
arrival, and expressions of anxiety tomake the acquaintanceof a being so idolized and idoliz ing. It was impossible tocourt the continuance of these vexations ; and entrenchingherself accordingly in the decree of the physicians that shewas to be kept quiet, she confined herself to two
‘
cheerfulcomfortableapartments connectedwithher own room; which,in contemplation of the future visits of Sir Alan and LadyRedwood to ahome whichmust one day become their own,had been s lendidly fitted up for her by the kindness of herfather. T e country neighbours were easily satisfied.Having been admitted to a sight of the great lady of Farminghurst Castle, they ascertained that she was by nomeansso pretty as when (as little Julia) she ced the gravel walkby Miss Wi lrnot
’s side -that she stil wore a simple dress
of white muslin -and that she was by nomeans so w ellworth looking at and listening to as her more chatty and
q ually trarelledmother. The reality of her indisposition
ran sncormMARRIAGE . 73
was too apparent to induce any suspicion of fine ladyisminher self-sought seclusion ; and seeing her so languid, pale,and thin , they politely w ished in their hearts that the first
little Redwoodmi ht prove a son and heir.
Poor Mr. and rs. Trevelyan were not, however, to be
so deceived. The Squire, to whomhis daughter’s merest
finger-sch had ever been as an attack of the plague, now saw
death inscribed in her hollow brows and attenuated form.
Did not the very physicians talk about consumption -did
not Ju lia, herself, though reluctantly, admit that she cou ldneither eatnorsleep l- Her appetitewas gone,
-herpowers of
rests-o-itwas all too aim—too terrible l—His only daughterw hit darling dang ter -Poor Mr. Trevel n shuddered
while he whispered to his poor old wife t at the springwou ld come again , and find themchildless . 80 youngso beautiful—40 think that we should survive her,
” he
exclaimed, with outspread hands, as he attempted to subdue
his irritation by pacing up and down Mrs. Trevelyan’s
dressing-room.
No, no, no,-do not say so cried the poor mother,
laying down her work and taking off her tacles, as if to
recall all her perceptive powers revisal of the
case. Camomile admits that, at resent, the disease has
no‘
hold on the constitution. The car creature sufl'
ers no
pain ,-breathes freely.
B ut her pale face, her debility i”
I sometimes think we have done wrong to call in the
aid of ph sicians. l have never (thank Heaven , and thank
you , my dear husband, ) had occasion to seemuch of humanafiii
‘
ction but I cannot help fanc ing that agreat part of her
suffering is on themind . That istory of t e ghost, which
Sterling persists in, and which, I find, was the common talkof the cou ntry at Farminghurst,must have arisen fromsomenervous panic.
”
What say you to inviting MissWilmot here f—PerhapsJuliamay have less reserve with her than us .
”
Miss Wilmot, indeed l exclaimed Mrs. Trevol an.
It would be hard indeed were my only child to s ew
more confidence in her governess than ihhermother.”Shem
ayhesitate about alarming you .
True ! replied the old lady ; and the woman havinggiven vent to her littlemovement of pique, the Mother readilyconsented to a proposal which, b any possibility, could
prove ad
l
vantagcous to the belove invalid. But unfortu
Von. n
74 ms ss conn al u mn us .
nately, the friend of Lady Redwood’s youth was absent on
a distant tour ; and stillmore unfortunately, a visitor arrived
in her place, than whomthe Fates could scarcely have
provided a more pernicious substitute. Mr. Trevan ion ,
whose estates lay on the western coast of Cornwall, havingaccidentally heard of his n iece
’s indisposition, considered it
his duty to come and remind herof the uncertainty of humanlife, and the insufficiency of human skill in repelling the
progress of disease. His solemn face and doleful tones,combined with the fading hues of autumn and the dispiritinginfluence of the equinoctial weather, completed the charm.
Lady Redwood soon began to fancy not only that she was
dying, but dying of a broken heart. Themore persuaded,however, she grew of the fact, the more she was bent on
screening it fromher unfortunate parents, and preventingrumours of her situation fromreaching her husband. Hav
ing hinted to Mr. and Mrs. Trevelyan that she was in cor
respondence w ith thefh stle, they were very ready to desistfromall further communication with a son-inqlaw , now theobject of their detestation .
When all is over,”mused poor Julia, whenmy end is
a
pproachin
gr—thsn let him gaze upon the w reck
o the wife c has sacrificed . Lot klu sseme perish -letmy closing eyes but detect.someexpression of sympathy and
pugin his own, and I shall die contentedut however contented shemight wish to render her last
moments, Uncle Trevanion took care that her present onesshould assume a less amiable character.“And so,my dear,” said he, havin visited her dressing
roomwith a bundle of tracts under is arm, “?I . find by a
letter frommy wife, that the Walpoles have profited by you rabsence to take up theirabode at Farminghurst lJulia pretended to turn a, deaf car. She was unwilling
Mr. Trevanion shou ld discover that he was the first to commanicate the inte ease.
Pray did Sir A an informyou in ahis lastletters thatMissRedwood was established under his roof 2Miss Redwood ?His little girL- Martha Walpole is in c orrespondence
w i th one ofmy wife’s sisters (whomyou drank tea w ith oneevening atmy house), andwrites her word that atSir Alan’swish she had conveyed her rmotherless little charge to
Farmmghurstaand installs her under the careof a regular
THE snootw MARRIAGE . 75
governess, able to supply the defic iencies of your inexperience. It seems the Walpoles have engaged to pass thewinter there.
”
H ave they i—I rejoice to hear it. Sir Alan being de
rained there on busidess, I amglad to find he has secured alittle cheerful society.
”
Cheerful ? the Walpoles cheerful society t—Well—well l
-they a re at least well-principled, right-thinking people,
who w ill speedily counteract any little irregu larities youmayhave introduced into the establishment. By the way, mydearJulia, I amsorry to find that their feelings have been verymuch hurt by the way in which you have set your faceagainst every thing connectedwith thememory of poor LadyRedwood . ! believe one of Mrs. Walpole
’s chief objects in
taking up her abode at Farminghurst is to put an‘
end to thethe reports you have circulated of the house being haunted.
”
I -I circu late such a report -exclaimed his niece '
I, who, w ith the exception of a few formal visits, have had’
no commun ication w ith his Yorkshire neighbours. Thehouse haunted -What an absurdity !
I amglad to hear you as so .
’
Mrs. Trevanion informsme an opinion is prevalent at you have quitted your husband's protection in consequence of seein or fancying, orstating that you saw, the apparition of t e deceased LadyRedwood .
”
Can it be possible, exclaimed poor Julia, “ that so
absurd a report has been promulgated in consequence ofmyhaving been startled by the sudden entrance of Sir Alan into
my dressing-room, when over-fatigued by a long journe t”
It seems too that your coldness has given great oflc e
to a worthy family in the village, who always lived on terms'
of affectionate intimacy with your predecessor—that you
never somuch as sufl’
ered poor Dr. Hobart to have a five
minutes interview w ith your husband.
Poor Lady Redwood, recollecting only too well that the
Vicar’s shortest sentence was of that duration , and his short
est visit one hundred times as long, groaned aloud.
In short,my dear niece, I own it affordsme considerablemortification to find that in the brief space of fourmonths ofmarried life, your conduct has alienated the affections of yourhusband, disgusted his whole family, his whole county,
driv en the poor fromhis gates, his child fromhis protection,and thrown you back upon the hands of your father andmother —to say nothing of the vexation Mrs. Trevanion and
p d by
I n asman tr a—am rfid p or l ai hura in
W im fl f; ( a in : I has”
n ew : in n er. i n smin t-able
M yoam m tt yu-rm le. considered itmyM y w set ld ere yon in the ch m iigh the han rds of the
I cp yau were n kmg .
”
But Lady Redwood remembered t a king , ha rd nd hing,
il hing her fromher, absorbed her ofery ficu lry, her every feeling . She
Trmnion’s departu re that she might
vent to the wounded feelings so long repr
ed. Away with all reserve !—She had done w rong in so
long remaing silent —c ceforward she wou ld at least ex
press her sense of the inj uria , the mortificario-s to whi ch
she was subjected. It is an easier thing to write than to g ive
wounded pride, of wounded
A pen obeying the dictates of an excited heart is
always fluent—often eloquent ; and w ithin an hour of heruncle’s departure to take his easy, jog-trot, morning’s amblein the park, several pages of Ju lia’s delicate penmanshipexpressed in the following lines the tumult of her gentle becom.
78 mmes corts MARRIAGI .
remembrances of a tenderness as fond as that you discerned
inmy bosomtowards ourself,—how could you venture, in
the calmness of your eliberation, to chainme for life to the
coldness of the sepulchre-I amravin
g! I no longer
know what I say or write Stung to the cart by you r in
gratitude, I amcareless of giving offence. What avails.
a
momentary pang inflicted on our self-love, compared W i th
the gnaw ing anguish to whio for threemonths past, youhave condemnedme ?
But nomatter. I w rite in haste, but with asmuch firmness as a year
’s deliberation could procure.
—Let us partDo not cheat the world by a semblance of harmony w hich
exists no longer ! which, alas ! never existed. You have
done your work in traducing me by accusations of hard
heartedness—of selfishness ; even I, who wou ld have sacri
ficed every wish, every in clination for your slightest token of
approval. Afford me at least, by sanctioningmy residencew ithmy parents, themeans of vindication ; that, du ring theshort remnant ofmy days, I may strive to kn it anew the
happy interests ofmy outh, nor subject myself to freshcharges of rebellion and isobedience. Enjoy yourself in thesociety of those to whomyou should never have given a rival
in your—{I was about to say your affections
—butwhen werethey evermine l) -your household and authority. Y ou w ill
soon be disencumbered of even the shadow of restraint. B ut
when you learnmy death—do not, on peril of consign inganother victimto an early grave
—do not again venture to
take to your bosoma trusting, doating, miserable being ;who, once undeceived,may likemyself dash away the remnant of life as a vain and valueless possession. Farewell !I will not trustmyself to saymore. I will not expose theanguish of a devoted heart to the curiosity of those around
you. I wai t butyour reply to preparemy father for a mag .
sure that will give liberty to you , and peace tome.”
Little did the affectionate parent of Lady Redwood con
jecture, when he performed his quotidisn duty of transferringthe correspondence of Trevel an Park fromthe letter-box tothe post
-bag, that the weig ty epistle, double- treble,quadruple,
—addressed in Ju lia’s hand-writing to her lord andmaster, was so bi
gw ith important matter. Still less did
Trevanion , when e took his seat at the dinner table , toacquaint his brother-in-law with the result of hismorn ing’sobservations—the dilapidated state of his fences, themeagreness of 11 18 flocks and herds, and the ruinous condition of
n : u conn u saamen. 79
his lantations,—conjecture that his jeremiads of themorning ad produced so remarkable an effect on the mind ofLady Redwood.The little party humdrummed through their two courses,
aided by pretty nearly the same observations that had fallenfromeach on the same Spot the preceding day ; lamentingthat dear Ju lia should confine herself to her own room and
concluded w ith a declaration that perhaps, after all, qu iet
w as the best thing for her. Every thing went on as usual.
The. doors opened and shut the same number of times ; andMr. T revelyan uttered his accustomed exhortation to the
butler to let the fire be looked to before the servants left
the room. Who would have guessed that the only daughterof the house was pacing her apartmentabove, in indescribableagitation of feeling ; her overcharged heart bursting w ith
the excitement of her recent eflort, her burning eyes unmoistened by tears, her flushed cheeks glowing w ith indignation .
Could Camomile have peeped in upon her proceedings, it is
probable that hemight have added a straight-waistcoat to the
rest of his useful suggestions .
And all this perturbation was to last for a week —Six longdaysmust elapse previous to the arrival of the answer which
would unseal the lips and seal the destinies of Lad Red
w ood. Six long days,—six long nights
-Could umanpatience, cou ld human strength, sup ort her through a con
tinuance of such a conflict ; and enabiiaher to bear up againstthe well-mean ing fussiness of her father andmother. Itwas
at least some comfort that Mr. Trevanion would not be present at the crisis that he wou ld be one back to prognosticate
evil to his own w ife, previous to t e announcement of her
separation fromher own husband. Already she counted the
hours till the fatal da The post came in early ; she should
have the day beforeher to communicate the astounding fact
to her father andmother ; the preceding night to strengthen
her spirit w ith quietness.—But alas the best digested plans
are the s rt of time and chance. Instead of supporting the
c onflict or one hundred and fort -four hours, the delicate
frame of Lady Redwood sank on t e second day of trial. A
nervous fevermanifested itself ; Camomile was sent for his
patient grew delirious, and the s uire and squiress distracted.
Lon before the arrival of the T ursday which was to bringthe tal fiat fromFarminghurst, an express was on its waythither to acquaint the heard-hearted Baronet that hemightspare himself the discredit of negative or afirmative -that
80 ms ssconn MARRIAGE.
the King of Terrors was about to take under his protectionthe fair flower withered by the biting blasts of his indiffer
ence.
Fortunately the letter in whichMr. Trevelyan hastily andharshly set forth both the evil and its origin, never reached
the hand of Sir Alan Redwood. He had already u itted
home. The appeal—the affecting appeal of his wi e had
instantly determined himto set forth and plead his cause in
person ; explain all that wasmysterious in his own conduct,—and soothe away all that had been painful to herself.
Never was there a man so overwhelmed w ith surprise as
Julia’s husband by the sudden avowal of her feelings,—her
unlooked-for, her undreamed of feelings. So persuaded as
he had been of her coldness—her worldliness,—her egotism,
it seemed, on the perusal of her letter, as if amine of unap
preciable wealth were opening at his feet ; and all his v isions
on the eve of realization . She had loved himthen -she
had been willing to become amother to his child, -aministering angel to his destin ies. His reserve had been the
cause of all theirmisunderstanding—her jealousy the origin
of all hermelancholy ! How soon , haw readily cou ld all be
explained -how delightful themeeting after so inauspiciousa farewell —He had been on the point of losing his Julia ;she had been on the eve of deserting himfor ever ; but itwas not too late
Oh! for a horse withwingsTo hear himon his back to
arevelyan Park. Oh ! for an advent ofNat. Lee’s d ivinities;ose
Gods, who annihilated time and space,Tomake two lovers happy.
In a few hours he was in his travelling carriage, -on hisroad to Cornwall,—on his road to Julia ; the Ju lia of theLudov isian gardens and Horatian Villa. N0 longer themoping wayward Lady Redwood ; but the Miss Trevelyanwho had wept on his bosomwhile uttering her avowals oflove—her
tpromises of faith. It is seldomthat the leafless
hedges an swampy roads of a November journey appear socharming in the eyes ofman, as they seemed to the Baronet,while traversing the cross roads andmiry wa s dividing thenorthern extremity ofYorkshire fromthe sout ern extremityof Cornwall. Scarcely stopping to eat and never to sleep,on his route, it was midnight when he arrived within ten
miles of Trevelyan Park. What was to be done ! Sir oAlaa
r un snconn‘max imum. 81
dreaded interfering w ith the routine of the squire’s estab
lishmen t, or provoking the comments of the family bmaking his appearance in themiddle of the night ; and he fdetermined to remain at the inn so as to reach the hall bybreakfast time on the follow ingmorning. Already he hadreached the court-yard, when this project occurred to him;where, to his surprise, the landlord having approached andflared a candle in his face, uttered an exclamation of disappointment.What is thematter -cried he, preparing to alight.
Beg pardon , sir replied the man , apprehensive ofhaving displeased a gentlemamin a new chariot and four.
Hope no offence. Took you for the doctor fromTruro.
Squire Trevelyan’s groom’
s been waiting for himhere thesethree hours—Fancy he
’ll be too late—Y ou’re a stranger
in these parts I take it, or you’d understand . that gentle and
aimlsWho is ill at Trevelyan Park !
” inqu ired Sir Alan ina faint voice, falling back in his carriage. The old ladythe—theIll, sir ? Lor
’ bless you , sir,-I w ish she may be ill at
this present speaking . The squ ire’s young man says as
there was n’t half an hour
’s life in her when he came away.
They’ve been hunting all over the country for advice ; but,
as I said before, Lor’bless yOu , Dick says I,
‘.what
signifies adv ice when the strength’s gone She
’s been
raving these three days ; for all the bleeding in the worldwould n’t keep down the fever, till she dropped all 0
’sudden
like a spent ball and now“Mrs. Trevelyan is advanced in years,
” faltered Redwood,for he had not courage to hazard a direct inqu iry.
“Mrs. Trevel n -Lor’ bless you , sir ; it be
’n’t Mrs.
Trevelyarfl—Ith: Squ ire’s daughter, Miss Ju lie as was.
Married only a day or two back, as one ruby say ; and sent
back home to die. God love her, pretty lamb — I livedbailiff in the family, and haveknown her ever since she wasas high asmy stick .
”
Poor Redwood heard nomore. To the infinite consternat1011 of the landlord of the Trevelyan Arms, he cut short hiscommunication with, Horses on , instantly
-nor was ittill he was some hundred yards advanced on the road, thatthe ex-vassal of the family became aware of all he hazarded
y his abrupt and uncalled-for disclosures.
82 run ss coun uaaaraen .
CHAPTER XIV.
0h! if thou hast at lengthDiscovered thatmy love is worth esteem,I ask nomore, but let us hence togetherAnd I -letme say “H m“, yet be happy.
Saanaxan w s.
ALTH OUGH the legislation of Lady Redwood’s sick room
was at present consigned to the hands of four of the best
meaning and worst-judging persons in the world, -her
father, mother, uncle, and apothecary, -they had just un itedsense enough among the party to prevent Sir Alan fromrushing distractedly to her presence, and crushing the little
hope remaining. The expected physician soonmade his aprance ; but he came only to confirmtheir worst appremeions, and to declare that in the remote possibility of the
patient’s struggling through the attack. mental alienation
cou ld scarcely fail to be the resu lt.
Even this was something. The poor old father andmothereagerly clung to the prospect of seeing their rescued child,led about in helpless imbecility, rather than surrender her to
the grave ; and as to her husband, he was too lost, too u tterlyself-abandoned, to calculate on possibilities. All he could do
was to kneel by the sufferer’s bedside, -listen to every
breath, every murmur, -watching every change on her
countenance ; and, when the obscurity of the chamber permitted, supplying the attendance of those whoministered to
her wants. He interposed indeed his authority, when on the
first promise of returning reason Mr. Trevanion suggestedthe necessit of apprising her of her situation, and affordingher spiritus preparation for the grave ; and at length, on theappearance of a decided amendment, succeeded in prevailing
ms sneenn manaraen. 83
on her parents to retire to rest, and leave himin charge of a
treasu re which none knew better how to value.
Many days had elapsed since Julia had exhibited any de
gree of personal consciousness but the deep s leep that now
overpowered her faculties, afforded the promise of refresh
ment and with anxietymingled with hope Redwood bentover her, —listened .
to her light breathing, -and noticed that
the fever was abating in its virulence. The sighs that es.
caped her bosomseemed to arise fromsome moral causerather than fromthe op ression of disease : she was strug
gling back .to life, -to sense of hermiseries. He even
heard her breathe“
his name as if in the transports of a
dream.
u No letter yet l" -she filtered, w ithout unclosing her
Will not Redwood deign to write tomeHush said he, in a low vo ice, apprehensive that she
would injureherself by further agitation . He is cominNo, mbther, not- we must ‘ not meet again . He as
broken m heart. -Letme die in peace.
”And again she
sunk into ether as if incapable of confronting the wretch
edness of her so itious Towardsmorning she again betrayed symgi
oms of'animation ; again inquired for letters a ain,
and w it“the tenderest adjurations, breathed the name 0 her
husband. Half concealed behind the draperies of her bed,trembling lest he should augment her perilous excitement,he no longer dared trust himself to reply. She was now
sufieiently rebovered '
to detect his voice ; and summon ingher accustomed attendants he stole away
‘
fromher apart.
ment.It was no longer possible to doubt his influence over
'
bet
feelings. Even had her letter lefta shadowofmistrust uponhismi nd, the tones of endearment inwhich this being, hovering on the brink of the grave, pronounced his name and
clung to every token of his early love,must have convinced
the most obdurate heart: But hemust ct refrain fromex
planation ,-yet postpone that precious interview which, he
flattered himself, weald conduce 'more to her recovery thanall themedicaments of the physicians.
My dear sir,”said his friend Trevanion , drawing him
aside as soon as Camomile and Company ronounced thatthey were beginning to entertain sangu ine opes in her be
half, as
your departure would no longer leave any peculiar
responsibi ity'
on the hands of the family, I amsure you will
pardonme for suggesting that itwould be highly prejudicial
84 run snconn HARR IAOB.
tomy poor dear niece to find you an inmate of this house onher restoration to consciousness . It is a hint that cou ld
scarcely be given by Trevelyan and my sister, . w1 thout ia
curring the charge of inhospitahty ; but at my years, andconsidering the terms of confidential regard on which we
mutually are, I amsure I shall be forgiven for candidlyowning that the rejudice poor dear Lady Redwood appears
to have conceived)
against ou
Arises,”
cried Sir A an , no longer able to repress his
im tience, frommutualmisunderstanding. I same hitheron in compliance w ith,
he paused —he scald not saywit her invi tation with Ju lia’s w ish for an interv iew.
”
Well !my dear sir,” replied Mr. Trevanion shaking hishead. I have candid] given youmy opinion ; to which Iwill only add, that should you persist i n your determination,pgither Camomile nor I will answer for In dy Redwood
’s
l e.
”
He did, however, rsist. In the face ofMr. Trevanion’s
homilies, Mr. Trevefian’s prescriptions, and the indignantrcmonstrances of the ladymother, he resumed his post byJulia’s bedside ; and, after carefully concealing himself fromher observation so long as her debility of frame renderedagitation dangerous, seized the first momen t of return ingstrength to recall himself to her notice, to enfold her withinhis arms ; implore pardon for all his past offences, real andimaginary ; and te-cement his union With hiswife by sweets:and bitterer tears than had ever yet been weptb either.
Itwas not, however, formany 'weeltsf—(not tillLady Redwood was able to rise fromher sick-bed, and n iched cozilyin her arm-chair by the fireside, give ear to theexplanationnow so eagerly tendered by Sir Alan, )t -that the followingnarrative sufficed to obliterate all . traces of her jealousy, herrepining, her in ratitude. It afforded no small subject ofconsternation to er father, when occasionally he intrudedupon their téta
-d-téte ( in order to ascertain that the apart
ments were regulated to the thermometer temperature) toperceive that his darling Julia
’s eyes were often red ,w ith
weeping, and her darling Redwood almost breathless withthe interest of th
pconver
gation they were holding together.
a e at s
I need not remind you, dearest,” said Sir Alan, whileJulia averted her face lest she should betray an overweeninginterest in the narrative,
“ that itwas in my earliest child
hood I experienced the loss of both my parents. I never
83 Tan ss conn unus u al}.
slthough far fromparticipating in the rampantwillfulness of
mown disposition, shewas free fromthehard presumptuousse f-sufliciency, and pharisaical pride of her tribe. She was
not pretty,—scarcely even good-looking ? but by the s ide of
Martha’s gaunt figure, and‘
the stern visages of the old 0
ple, her countenance grew pleasing and perm gracefuShe was young, too ; and amid the dull solemmties of the
Walpole establishment, my eyes rested upon Mary as the
only living thing with which I could sympathise ; and al
most as great a victimasmyself. By the time I attainedmnineteenth year, I fancied myself desperately in love wither ; told her so -implored her affection in return and
havingmutually plighted our°
rl-and-boyish faith, formallyrequested the sanction of old alpole.
The world was of opinion that this attachment was ex
actly what he expected,-what the whole family had long
been planning . Yet, Mr. Walpole insisted that we shouldmeet nomore till the attainment ofmy majority ; and sent
me abroad with a serious’ tutor to put the strength of mypassion andmy principles to the proof. This again theworld hailed as a hazardous experiment, -
predicting that
MaryWalpole’s pale face and spiritless demeanour w ou ld do
little in restricting the w ild courses of a boy of nineteen ;but had they known more of themonotonous and chillinginterior of Mr. Walpole
’s famil they would have been
aware that a person whose grewt had grown and strengthstrengthened in its iron trammels, must have acquired a
lethargy of docility not easily thrown off. It is absurd todescribe the ardent spirit of youth, as bi lling only themoreimetuously for the restraints imposed upon its impusles ;not ing ismore tendil checked than the vigor of the humanheart. Moreover, mine was to be a tour of instructionrather than of amusement. The first ear was to be passedat the University of Jena ; and a consi erable ortion of thelatter among those Isles of Greece,
’which, alt ough bum.
ing Sappho’ may have loved and sung there in the olden
time, resent few modern beauties ormodern blues tomislead t e heart or mind of the youthful traveller. I hadtherefore but little temptation to swerve frommy faith and,on the whole, aminclined to think that absence did butincrease the strength ofmy attachment -for fancy or for
getfulness tended to beauti?its object, while Mary
’
s letters
gig“ tobreathe a holy ten erness to whichMary
’
s lips haded in giving utterance. I returned home happy in theanti
a ns sacortn surnames. 87
eipation of assuming the possession and control ofmy ex
tensive property, and sharing it w ithmy ardian’s daughter ; unaware of the change which time (1 been silentlyw orking in my views and feelings.
On re-entering Mr. Walpole’s house, I became at once
painfully sourfible of the egotismdictating its narrow polico f the insignificance ofmy
guardian’s character ; of the arbi
trary opimonativeness of is wife -ofMartha’s cold-bloodedreserve and supercilious self
-esteem. They still professed
to despise the world, and live to and for themselves ; whileI, in peace and charity with all mankind, and rhaps
'
too
easily captivated by the specious blandishments t at courted
me in societ was eager to open my house—my heart—mymind—40 a l the world. N0 act of treachery had put meou t of humour with human kind -they spokeme fain—and
I doubted notmeantme well.”“And Ma whispered the anxi ous Lady Redwood,
in terrupting or the first time her husband’s narration .
I would willingly avoid imputing the shadow of blameto her,
” be resumed, in amore subdued tone. But Imustadmit thatMary shared the condemnation whichmy amendedeXperience brought down on every member of her familShe had gained nothing since we parted, and lost mucT he freshness of early youth was gone, both from her
c ountenance and character. If less frigid in demeanour thanher elder sister, she had become reserved to a degree incon
s istent w ith the fervour of love ; and in our private inter
v iews, persisted in the same heartless formalit necessitated
by the presence of the family -her notions of ecorumweren ow so rigid, and her judgments so harsh, that I shudderedat the idea of passingmy life with so precise and uncommun icative a person . But it was too late to recede. TheWal
poles were bent on the earl celebration of our nuptials ; and
trained as I had been nu er their yoke, it appeared to meimpossible to contravene their authority or set aside their
ju gment.The nearer, however, I drew to themoment whichwas
to operate so decisivelyt onmy destiny, themore I clung to
the attractive range of society now, for the first time, open
tomy participation . My engagements w ith Miss Walpole
were not so generally known but thatmany amother,many adaughter, laboured to embellishmy existence w ith the charmof female favour. Courted, adulated, welcomed to hundredsof the gayest houses of themetropolis, it was only at my
88 rm: ssconn as s umes .
guardian’s that I was received with louring brows and cere
monious coldness -thatmy actions were subjected to pertual investigation , incessant blame, andm condition of filecontemned as a source of empty show an worldly care. Ilonged to getMary awa fromthe influence of her friends.
Since shemust unavoida ly; becomemy wife, I resolved to
dom utmost inmodelling her to those graces which I wasnow ginning to prize so highly, or in rendering societysuficiently attractive to tempt her fromthe solitude w hich
she knew not how to embellish. I lovedmusic -and Marywas no musician. I was fond of poet
-and Maryhad been taught to regard it as a frivolous an profane thing.
In Italy, I had begun to study the langua e of Metastasioc—and I found it qualified by theWalpo es as a vain and
wanton dialect. I delighted in pictures - andmy guardianpersisted in defining themas a strip of canvas daubed with
meretricious colours, at an infinite waste of time and pains tosome individual whomight have been usefully employed inmechan '
stal labour. He seemed to pityme for being proprietor of somuch superfluous brick andmortar as was wastedinmy dwelling st Farminghurst ; and as to Bumley—whatwas the use of a second country-seat l—Imight either let it,or convert its useless lawns to agricultural purposes. A llthese narrow views of life andmanners provoked not a singleargument of opposition or remonstrance fromMary
’s l ips ;
and, on the eve of hermarriage with theman of her cho ice,it seemed farmore amatter of regret to her to quit her Dorcas societies and Sunday
-schools, her weekly pensioners andfavourite preacher, than a subject of joy that she was about toj oin her fate tomine, to be the ornament ofm home, and thesharer ofmy joys and sorrow » How can d I be satisfiedwith so limited, so contemptuous ameasure of personal affection
‘
l—How could I hear that a tie somomentous as that ofcoa faith should beregarded as secondary to the ordinaryconnexions of life f—Themore I saw of Lady Redwood
’s
impassive coldness, the more I withdrew fromher thosediminishing immlses of tenderness, which required the
genial atmosphere of sympathy to warmthemmto new and
perfect growth 1You, dearest Julia, may perhaps have been induced to
inveigh against the dulness of the Castle. Judge what itwas under the dominion of that frigid and paralyzin spiritof bigotry, which banished music, poetry, flowers, gemitsdesolate apartments ; and rejected those still more. cheering
THE as cenn n annraen . 89
influences of endearment and mirth, which brighten even
the d reary resorts of penury ! Dispirited by her grave and
oppressive taciturnity, I soon took refuge frommy unattrac
tive home in an affected ardour for field-sports profiting bythe excuse thus afforded, to fill my house withmy countryn eighbours, or esc
ape it altogether by , prolonged visits to
their own . Mary eclined accompanying me and it was
some relief to throw off; fromtime to time, the heavy yokeo f dulness I had so madly affixed upon my own shoulders.
T he very name of home became loathsome tomy feelings.
N o smiles‘
awaitedme onmy return -no interest animatedmy pursuits —I experienced the torment of the criminal ofthe olden time chained by
'
Mezentius to a corpse. My irritation settled into coldness, and indifference was on the point of
becoming aversion .
The autumn succeeding my inauspicious marriage, Iagreed to join a shooting expedition to the Moors ; and on
c ommunicating to Lady Redwood the probability that Imightbe some weeks absent fromhome, I prepared myself fortokens of regret or diapleasure. Mary contented herself, on
the contrary, w ith a calmexpression of satisfaction that I
should be so long away ; requesting that shemight be permitted to invite her own family to hear her company while Iremained in Scotland.
My fatherw ill be well pleased to visit theCastle during
y our absence,’she observed. Your views and opinions are
s o opposite, that no satisfaction or advantage can result fromy our being together.
’
This declaration amounted to a tacit confession of her
own discomfort in m society ; for no two ersons could be
more congenial than lilalpole and his daug ter, none morepositively at variance than his daughter and her husband;
Meanwhile, notwithstandingmy efforts to get away previous
to the arrival of my father-in-law , circumstances occurred
to retardmy departure ; and during the eight-and-forty hoursw e ed under the same roof, the breach between us was
inca culably widened by his pertinacity in favouringme w iththe same lectures, dictations, and reprovals, to which I hadbeen corn lled to submit during myminority. Lady Redw ood, if s 0 did not chime in with his admonitions, preserveda dignified silence ; and never was there a sensation of re
leasemore gratifying thanmine when, after a formal salutation fromm wife, I turnedm back upon Yorkshire, andfelt respited or a time frommy ousehold tribulations.
l’
90 run sitc om) u nusu al .
Nor did absencedimin ish thebreach thus opened betweenus. My companions, a set of jovial bachelors who w ere
tolerabl aware of the unsatisfactory nature ofmy domesticconnection, not only laboured to render me sensible to the
joys of liberty, but were incessantly throwing out insinua
tions against petticoat government, and the odiousness of
women of sour or shrewish disposition. But the . cheerful
life for which we were indebted to the roverbial hospitalityof the Highlands, formed in my eyes t e best commen taryon Lady Redwood
’s churlish unsociability ; and when the
period arrived for returning to Farminghurst, I shudderedat the prospect of encountering the Walpole circle, w ith its
erimonious tones, its severity of universal condemnation ,selfish reserve, and pragmati cal importance. I knew that
all my thoughts, words, and deeds, were about to be sifted
through the sieve of their peculiar doctrines- that
sures would be treated as sinful, my pursuits as contemptible -that even Mary was beginning to regardme as a lawbreaker and a reprobate l
Under these circumstances, it was a considerable reliefwhen a plan was suggested that our party, instead of breaking u at the close of the grouse-season, should te-assembleatMe ton Mowbra towards the end of October, for the formation of a rivatehunting establishment ; and.supported byso agreeab e a project, I returned home, determined to defy
diau,mother-ia-law , Martha, nay, even Lady Redwoodarse to assertmy own authority, seek my 0ments, and leave her to the en ’
p yment of those so little consonant with the temper pf a man ' in '
the prime of health and
prosperity.
”
rm; sncortn MARR IAGE . 91
CHAPTER XV.
The silvershower, whose reckless burthen weighsT oo heavily upon the li ly
’s head,
on leaves a savingmoisture at its root.Wow swoarn .
Mr wife’s family,” resumed Sir Alan , after having paused
to g ive audience to Julia’s exclamations of wonder and con
demnation , were, however, toomuch enlighented as to the
obstinacy of my d isposition , to suggest Opposition to mplans. No proposal wasmade on either side that Lady Rewood should hear me company . Her father was anxious
that she shou ld return home with him, and as Mary had
now the prospect of becoming amother, the project was elig ib lo enough. But she would not hear of qu itting Farminghu rst ; and succeeded in persuading the old people to permither sisterMartha to pass the winter in Yorkshire. My de
parture preceded theirs ; so that I knew nothing of their
state of feeling in taking leave of their widowed daughter
for such they.already regarded her.
I need not wenny your atience, dearest, by a description of the heartlessmirth an festivity in which I passed thew inter. It wasmy sole study to obliterate frommymemoryevery thin connected w ith Farminghurst - and I suc
ceeded. A ready I regardedmymarriage as an act of boyish infatuation ; and was even base enough to concede tomyintimate associates the privilege of rallying me respectingmymethodistical wife and miserable home. One or two of
my friends even urgedme to bolder resistance ; to re-modelmy establishment and mode of life accordin to my own
good liking. If Lady Redwood does not choose to con
92 r u n sncoun MARRIAGE.
formto herhusband’s w ishes,’ argued they , ‘ let her go homeagain, or pray and preach elsewhere. You have St. P au l
’s
authority on your side to enforce her submission to y our
authority .
’
My opinions began to coincide with theirs ; and alreadyI determined that, after the event of Mary
’s confinemen t, a
mutual explanation should place us on a different footing ;that either she shou ld consent to rendermy house the resort
of cheerfu l society and conformher own habits to the usages
of the world, or that we shou ld formseparate hou seho lds
after our severa l fancies. I insinuated something of the
kind in one of m letters ; but Mary’s replies w ere so
guarded and so col that it was impossible to judge w hetherthe preposal was acceptable or painful to her feelings . She
wrote regularly, givingme an account of all that in terested
or ought to interestme, concerningmy tenantry and estates ;
but the tone of her correspondence partook of the dry ci r
cumstantiality of all letters of business.
Never did I hail the approach of spring w ith so little
satisfaction , as when a brighter verdure in the Leicestershire
pastures remindedme that I shou ld shortly have no fu rther
excuse for prolongingmy absence. Lady Redwood’s con
finement was announced for the beginn ing of May ; an d at
the end of March, I foundmy compan ions beginn ing to dis
perse. I took my leave of themw ith regret and envy.
They were looking forward w ith eagerness to the season ,
to their clubs, the Opera, the Derby, Almack’s, and all the
countless varieties of London pleasures whileI had n othingto anticipate but a sullen wife and discontented homé . Myutmost hope suggested that Mary
’s new position as amother
wou ld tend to humanize her character, and warmher feelings towards myself ; or that it would afi
'
ordme an excuse
for leaving her more than ever alone, and dispensing w iththe company of her odious relatives. On one point, moreover, I was positive ; and expressed my determination so
clearly inmy letters, that even the coolness ofWalpole bloodwas not proof against my authority. Of all the family,Martha had been the most audacious in her expression s ofdisapproval of my conduct ; and not choosing to exposemyself to discussions with her at so critical a moment as
that of her sister’s indisposition , I signifiedmy w ish that Imight find Lady Redwood alone onmy return to Farmi ng
hurst. This was ungracious enough —but it was betterthan a family quarrel.
94 r un ssconn nARRrAGn.
cantly at his wife ; and Jul ia nodding her comprehension of
his meaning, impatientlymotioned to her husband to pro
ceed, ) towhich you have since observedme affix a pec u liar
sentiment of interest ; when, tomy sur rise, I perceivedLady Redwood seated on the bench nu er: the magnoliatree. Weak as she was, it was a considerable walk for her to
have achieved ; and common courtesy requiredme to accost
her, and offermy armto facilitate her return ; when , on up
preaching her, I rceived with surprise that her featu res
were swollen and'
scoloured withweeping. Strange to say,I thought her prettier under that aspect than I had seen her
since our marriage. She wasmore like the Mary of myyouth
—Alas ! it was so long since she had appeatd to in
dulge in any womanly emotion .
What is thematter?” said I, in akinder voice than u sual,and seating myself by her side, Have you received badnews fromyour family I’ r
u s NO.
’
Are you indis sed Z—overfatigued 1’
Notmore so t an usual.’
But you have been .crying .-What has distressed
I often cry without any'
new distress.’
Y ou are weeping even now‘
l’
Not for sorrow’s sake. Do not disturb yourself. My
gs are little worth investigation or comment.’My suSpicions were excited by these inconclusive an
swers ; and I now insisted on an ex lanation . I fancy lspoke harshly, for Mary
’s tears flowe unrestrainedly.
Na
ythen,
’cried she, at length, as if by an impu lse
beyond er own control ; why not vindicatemyself by an
avowal of the truth i—My li s will soon be closed forever,my heart frozen into peace. W y, why
—scruple to reveal itsburn ing anguish ! Yes ! I have been weeping
—enjoyingthe consolation of tears—the only comfort you have leftme!But they were tears of joy : for I know that the end of mypilgrimage is approaching, and thatmy heaviness shall notendure forever ! Rejected as I amfromyou r bosom—c on
temned—reviled—the day ofmy release is at hand ; and lshall taste, after allmy trials—my humiliation—my despair,-the tender mercies of a more forbearing Master. —Y es,
Redwood, I amabout to die. Rejoice withme l—rejo ice foryour own sake—rejoice for mine -Our ill-assorted marriage is on the eve of dissolution . You will be free to form
ran sscono MARRIAGE . 95
a tiemore congenial with your feelings ; and I—(pray for
me, that itmay be so i) I shall be summoned to the enjoyment of a peace which passeth all unde
'
rstanding .
’
Startled by her unexpected vehemence, I was still farfromentering into the source of this exaltation of feeling.
Calmyourself, ’ I replied ; calmyourself. Such are
the apprehensions of every woman circumstanced as you
are now .
’
Was seer woman circumstanced as I amnow P
cried Lady Redwood, clasping her hands. Did ever wo
man sacrifice her happiness, her principles, her tenderness,to be rewarded as I have been l—to ask for bread (even the
nu tm t of a craving heart) and receive a stone —to have
fo rsaken her own people and her father’s house, for the sake
of one fromwhose bosomshe is cast forth to perish 1’
‘ t What mean you, Mary 3’ I exclaimed, explain the
cau se of this excitement.’Does it need interpretation , that the worm, long trod
den under foot, should at length turn upon the iron heel byw hi ch its helplessness has been bruised Z—Is it so strange-so miraculous—that even I, lowly and humiliated as I
am, should pause upon the brink of the grave, and grieve
that m youth has been spent in vain ; the warmimpu lseso f my cart lavished on emty air, cast upon the waters,di s owned, disdained, pollute
Sufferme to conduct you home,” said I, with assumedca lmness ; for I was now persuaded that my wife was laho a ring under a arox amof insanity.
No —crie La y Redwood.—‘ No ! Since I have
b een unable to control the impulses of an overcharged heart,
lu re let me speak ; here, where the Almighty, to whosemercy I amhastening, looks down uponmy sorrow —wherethe abundance and beauty which nature has shed around
me to so little purpose, remindme that something exists on
ea rth to render death an act of resignation .
’
M dear Mar you alarmme and injure yourself byth is vie ence,
’saidfiinexpressibl awed by the solemnity of
h er voice and gestures, You wi 1 yet live many years forth e enjoyment of
Hush interruptedmywife, turning suddenly towards
me . But that a voice has spoken to me,—but that I knowmy self on thebrink of the great abyss, think you thatmy ownl i ps,my own withered heart would have unclosed
‘
! Talk
96 r u n sncortn u ARRrAGs .
not to me of living—Earth has no shelter for me but the
rave)gMary—Mary cried I, you are tempting P rov idence
by these wayward ejaculations. With the poor, the n aked,and the hungry suffering around, what right have you, theminion of prosperit to rebel against God I
’
The eye of Hyeaven bath a clear insight into the value
of its gifts,’replied Lady Redwood. Gold, silver and gor
geous raiment, are not all in all in the sight of God, as inthe sight ofman . To possess themeans of happiness, according to our powers of cujo eat, constitutes real pros
erity. Forme, I care but litt e nor have ever cared , for a
city dwelling, obsequious attendance, or the trink ets of
pomp. Frommy youth upwards, I have coveted bu t theapproving eye and caressing hand of affection ; and thesewere fated never to bemine 1 Admit then that I ama beggar, an outcast, a miserable—miserable outcast An d thetears poured down her cheeks as she spoke. s
Are you serious in these charges 1’said I, still haping
and believing that she laboured under mental delusion.
Having rejected all my overtures of afl'
eetion, of regard, of
friendship, do you now accuseme of having been the first tooutrage our
'
vows of wedded love l’
Wherefore accuse you -tO ‘whomhave I '
to appeal for
pity, of redress l—Listen to me ! You knew as u lly as
myself in what strict principles of iety I was reared. Myparents, a bhorring the idolatries the world , taught th irchildren to look upon ima es of silver and gold as thi ngs ofnoa ccount to an
"
immorta soul z-w and so fir it was to
espouse their tenets. But they did'more, and requ iredmoie at our hands ; and then , and then only, I w rebel
lious to their will. What availed it to insist on t e sacrifice
of all carnal affections, when fromm very childhood every .
feeling ofmy bosomhad been dcvot tomy 1a mate AlanRedwood -when, as I grew in years, that chil ish regardhad deepened into womanly tenderness 1 My father remanstrated —I told himit was already too late —my mother
warned and admonished me -I told her that my w hole
on our union was even
that whoso goeth forth
the bitter bread of his
98 run sEconn MARRIAGE.
And were they not all for york -for your welfare
Unless when , despite myself, an involuntary supplication
burst frommy lips that Imight learn to love you less or that
when I shou ld be in the grave, repentance might overtakeyou for the sufferings you were inflicting onme !’
Dearest—dearest Mary !’cried I, folding her to my
bosom, compan ion of my youth, -my chosen w ife, —mother of m child,—why
-why has this fatal reserve so longinterpose between us ! But it is not yettoo late
—we haveyears of happiness in store
No !’ faltered Lady Redwood, inclin ing her head (and
for the first tithe for manymonths) uponmy bosom. But
that my destiny is sealed, l should not have'
spoken thus.
But do you really loveme ! Can it be possible that all thewretchedness I have endured, —all the tears I have shed,are attributable to thewant of confidence which has suffereda cloud to gather between us
It is—it is said I.
”
I havew ished for nothing but your affection, and yet—3
Say not another word !”
cried I, again fervently clasping her in or arms. Providence ismerciful . W ith such
prospects ofhappiness Open ing around you , Mary, you will
h
i
ghto gaip
say your own predictions. We shall—wemusta
Tailmonths posh—nay ! fromthe period of your departure for Scotland, -fromthe period when I became convineingly aware of your indifference, I have never enjoyed anight
’s repose. Food has not nourishedme—sleep has not
refreshedme. Nature can no longer support the conflict.‘
Gazing earnestly in her face, I discerned fatal confirmation of this opin ion.
Youmust have advice I criedWilling] -since you desire it. But do you really
imagine that rugs have influence over a disorder such asmine
‘ The cause of yourmental irritation removed, a restore
tion of strength w ill follow . Promise me, Mary, to takecare
’
of yourself 1”
I will—I do -and in evidence ofmy obedience, let usreturn home. The evening is growing chill.’
The interest of our conversation had in fact preventedeither of us fromnoticing that a heavy dew had risen which,in Indy Redwood
’s state of debility, was highly pernicious.
The next day she was worse. I had no longer any inclina
THE sncos n MARRIAGE . 99
tion to qu it her side even for amoment —the neighbouringphysician , whomI had summoned to her aid, admitted tomethat it was highly improbable she would survive the event ofher confinement Unw illing as I was to admit the intervention of a third person between us in our altered state of feeling , I considered it a duty to theWalpole family to apprisethemof their daughter
’s precarious condition ; nor, in the
wretchedness and repentance ofmy sou l, did I hesitate toacknowledgemy past wrongs against her, and my earnest
desire to redeemthem. In the course of a day or two thearrived atFarminghurst and they, who hadbeen such unw
come visitors in the house of feasting, were all that could hew ished in the house of mourn ing. The stern grief of theoldman whohad so labouredto subdue ever human emotionw ithin his heart, was inexpressibly affecting ; and Marthaand her mother were too much softened by the sight of
Mary’s sod
'
ering , to indulge in thei r former as critics. Itseemed to afl'
ord peculiar satisfaction to poor La y Redwoodto see us all oncemore united on a friendly footing.
Fromthe period of that fatal day, she had never been
permitted to quit her own room; and nothing would ersuade
poor Martha, who was truly and tenderly attachedto hers ister, but that extreme care, the skill of her attendants, andabove all the vigour of outh renovated by prospects of returning happiness, wou d carry her in safety through herevil day. ButMaryknow better
—fromthe first she declaredher death as certain, and never swerved fromthe opinion.
My sister wants to delude you into believingme a false
rophetess,’said she, w ith a smiling face and extended
nd, one day as I approached her couch.
‘ Do not lend
you r ear to her, dearest Alan ; or you will perhaps turn
aside fromthe petitions and remonstrances I have still to
ofl'
er l—It w ill soon be too late ! In the struggle of that
hour, I shall have no voice to commune w ithmy husband.If you have a w ish to eXpress,
’ I faltered, seatingmys elf beside her, for the ease of your ownmind, howeverneedlessly, give it utterance.
’
The spring comes forward so beautifully,’said she,
po inting with her thin hand to the w indow , round which the
China roses were “already clustering,‘ the weather is so
mild, so soft, so balmy, that I was in hopes of being able toreach that dear old spot with you again
-that spot where
our first kind tears ofmercy announced thatmy day of trihalation was over!
100 THE SECOND murmu rs .
Wait another week,’said I, in a low voice,
“an d w e
will go there again together.
”
Another week murmured Mary , w ith a mou rn fu lwave of the head.
‘ In another week I shall be N o
matter,— why should I breathe a word to grieve youi N o ,
Alan—no ! I shall go hence nomore borne upon my ow n
feet, or w ith the impulses of liv ing breath in my bo som.
And therefore, dearest, letme hasten to claima promise a t
your hands. When all is over here, bequeathmy poor babetomymother’s care, and qu it a spot associated w ith somanyunwelcome impressions. Go abroad—travel—ben d you r
eyels upon other faces till you have forgotten poor Mary
’s
an
Never, never cried I, pressing her hands w ithinmyown .
It is presumptuous to suppose your bosomformed of
other than mortal texture,’ she replied, striving to smile .
‘ It is in the nature of the human heart to forget —it is in thenature of the human heart to love again ,
- again and again .
Only, dearest Alan , when you are about to take a n ew w ife
to your bosom (she preventedmy remonstrances by p lacing her cold hand on my lips) pause for amoment to recallthe ev il effects of former recipitancy l
fl Pause, to consider
Whether between yourself7
and the object‘
of your affec tions,there exists that congeniality of principles, opin ions, and
condition , w ithout which wedlock is a state of penan ce
whether you are disposed—nay, firmly determined , an d at
every personal sacrifice—to secure her happiness .—Less
than such devotedness is not love Thu smuch for her sakeand your own . Formine— for the sake ofmy child , if iadeedmy child survive, promiseme, dearest, dearest husband,that however your fancymay be captivated by a fair fac e and
pleasing demeanour, you w ill ascertain the principles andtemper of the woman you make its mother. Martha—fetchhither the bed prepared for this babe of promise. ThereRedwood —there stands the downy nest of the little beingmy heart so yearns to look upon , and which I shall n ever,never behold.
—Cla3p your hands in mine, dearest, c laspthemin blessings upon its pillow —and promiseme that youwill choose for it amother who shall be tender to its infirmities and forgiving to its frailties.
'
He paused and Lady Redwood hid her sobbing face in
her hands.
CHAPTER XVI.
I charge on by your love, to take some pityOn this istressedman . Help to restore himThat precious jewel he hath lost
B urri tos-r u mFnsrcmnt.
To one endowed withpoor Julia’s sensibility there needed no
comment in illustration of the foregoing narrative, or in reprobation of her own offences. Recognizing at once the pe
culiar claims enforced by Lady Redwood’s afflictions on the
memory—4 he remorseof her husband,—as well as th
ness and wickedness of herown groundless jealousy, she wasnow more inclined to quarrel w ith Sir Alan
’s obdu racy
towards his patient and devoted w ife, than to blame his toostrict performance of those premises which had soothed her
dyio hours. She no lon er wondered at the caution w ith
whic Redwood had yields up her affection to herself—the
vigilance w ith which he had studied her princi les and practice ; the sort of reluctance withwhich he he admitted to
himself his inconstancy to thememory of the dead ; and thefear and trembling with which he had elected her to be the
mother of a child so solemnly committed to his charge.
And how had she repaid his confidence-She blushed to
think of it —Her ungraciousness towards the Walpo les,whose importance in his estimation arose fromso sacred an
influence—her insensibility towards his little girl—herindifl
'
erence to his household—her neglect of his humbletenantry
—her incivility to the Hobarts—her untoward in terferencewith a spot thrice hallowed by the memory of hisunhapp victim! PoorMar —who cou ld better s mpathizethan r. Trevelyan
’s daug ter w ith the wretchedness of a
neglected wife l—Poor Mary -Lady Redwood actu ally
rm! sum o t an trum; 103
longed to be at Farminghurst again, that shemi ght renewand replace eve object connected with onewho had died so
young and so fdfiof sorrow . She yearned to have the littlemotherless child in her arms —to visit the poor
-J -whomMary, even amidst her worst of trouble, had never over
looked - to encourage the young—whomMary, in the
midst of sorrow and Si ckness, had laboured to train towardsthe skies. Satisfied of her unworthiness, she felt grateful to
Redwood for loving her in spite of all her faults ; and determined to profit by the first hours of returning health to studythe acquirement of Mary
’s spirit of righteousness, w ithout
neglecting her own Spirit of conciliation . She thought it
w ou ld be eas she knew it would be delightful, now that
she saw clear through the clouds enveloping the character
of her husban to pursue a systemof life calcu lated to retain
his affections, and render their future destinies as bright as
she had dreamed themin the earliest hours of her enthu
siasm. Every day added strength to her frame ; every dayadded vigour to hermind. She felt almost inclined to rejoicethat the stormy onset of hermarried life had com lled her
to a course of such severe self-examination ; ha arrested
her in the wild career of girlhood—the flighty heedlessness
of prosperit—and ‘
rendered her conscious of all the gill s
for which she had to be at once gratefu l and accountable to
P rovidence. Restored to Redwood’s afi
'
ections and con
fidence, she was at peace with all the world. She had
patience even w ith uncle Trevanion , and defied Dr. Hobart’s
mostmysterious whisper to ruffle her temper.
Mr. an d Mrs. Trevelyan , satisfied that nothing but the
v igilance of their own attendance and the art of the Comubian Galen had enabled their beloved daughter to overcomethe miserable condition to which she was reduced by the
indifference of the worst of husbands, profited b the earliest
moment of her recovery to insinuate a hope that Sir Alanw ould never more remove her fromtheir roof ; and great
in deed was their amazementwhen Ju lia, instead of secondingthe petition, threw herself into the arms of her belove
R edwood, assuring themthat there was no life for her save
in his resence. Nor was their surprise diminished when ,w ith t a most: winning frankness and many tears, Lad
yR edwood honestly accused her own jealous perversity of a 1her t distresses, and implored oblivion for the past, andindu genes for the future.
104 m W M LM IABI .
The approach of spring enabled her to devote herself tothe fulfilment of vowsmade in pain ,
”and resolutions con
mamoment of penitence. On the return of Sir Alan
and Lady Redwood to Farminghurst, no further comp laintsweremade among the old ddmestics of the cold hauteur of
her entrance into her husband’s home, nor had she any
cause to comlain of the dreariness of their journey ; for,having exten ed it through the metropolis, for the pu rposeof visiting the Wal les and
‘
claiming their charge, little
Mary’s sallies and ittle Mary
’s smi les afforded con tinual
matter of interest.A few months afterwards, the whole Wal
pole family
became her guests ; and although at times the issertations
of the old lady and the homilies of her husband were somew hat tedious, there was a conscientiousness in all their
doings, and a tenderness of affection towards their little
grandchild, which bespoke her forbearance. Towards
Martha, she was even more kindly disposed—for Martha,taught by sad experience, was so willing to sacrifice her
predilections to conciliate the father of her dead sister’s onlychild, that there was something almost affecting in the
docility w ith which she, a middle aged woman , strove to
acquire the qualities amiable in his eyes. With Martha,she visited the r and comforted the sick —with Martha,she encountered
o
lhe oppressive inanity of the vicarage
with Martha, she laboured to accomplish her mind by a
course of serious reading, for the duty of presiding over her
daughter-ih-law’s education . Mr. and Mrs. Trevelyan were
amazed when they saw that it was a chief object with theirbeautiful daughter, their noble heiress, to convert herself intoa governess ; and imlored her to invite Miss Wilmot fromher retreat, to save er fromsuch ignominious drudgeBut against this plan there was a serious objection . yRedwood
’s prece tress was now herself a happy wife ; and
poor Julia woul certainly have been left to the fulfilmen t ofer task, but thatmaternal duties of her own soon interferedwith the project.Before the family qu itted London the second year after
theirmarriage, Dr. Hobart had the happiness of whisperingto every family within tenmiles of the vicarQe, that he wasabout to travel up to town to administer the rite of be tiarn to
the son and heir of his patron ; and on his return, d thesatisfaction of subdividing his discourse into divers heads.
Imp rin ts, that the said son and heir was the finest infan t in
1 10 xv ru esmwas oounrnv.
ney. One younger brotherwas a clergyman and his two
sisters were married to small squires in the neighbou rhood
of their hereditary home.
In such a family, secure fromall pretension to fashion or
distinction , the sumof ninety thousand pounds was as the
treasury of the pre-Adamite sultans ! They had been ta lk
ing for five ears st of all Richard would do when he
arrived ; an new t t he was really come, and really pleaded guilty to the possession of a sumso nearly approachingto one hundred thousand pounds, they hardly knew how to
make toomuch of him, or too little of themselves. A for
tune recently acquired or still floating, which has n ot yet
been subjected to matter-of-fact calculations respectin g ia
tercet, investment, and net produce, always assumes doubleimportance. To say that aman has an income of four thousand a year, is to say nothing. One set of
people regard him
as a euper ; another set observe that, wit managemen t, hemay live handsome! enough ; a third declare that hemustnot attempt to launc out in London society ; and the fash
ionable world vote himadmissible only as a gi ver of moderate dinners, and a proprietorofmoderate mpages. B ut
ive himboldly out as recentl arrived infiugland w ith a
hundred thousand pounds, andthe whole world (w ith theexception of the mercantile classes) hai l himat once as a
wealthyman . What may not a man do with a hundred
thousand pounds l No stud, -no service of plate , -no
French cook,—no opera box ? Shabby fellow-If a man
with a hundred thousand pounds cannot afi'
ord to be comfortable, who can !
” Peo le talk of the earnings of his thirty
years’exile—of thew ole provision for his future fami ly,
as of a year’s income.
Such was the case with Richard Martindale. H is elder
brother theAt but no, he cal led himself “ the Solic itor,”had long fixed a greedy eye on a small estate of fifty or six
acres, adjoining his paddock, in the suburbs of HertfordiNowRi chard is come home,” said he, to his smart wife,
Ishall t himto manage it for me.
”The Reverend Ja cob,
like hi s namesake, proprietor of twelve blooming children ,was no less anxious to build a wing to his sonsge , in
order that the fathers of the twelve future tri esmight notsleep above three in a bed. Now Richard is come home,”said he to his dowdy wife, I shall get himtomanage it forme.
” His elder sister, Mrs. Marriot, had an elder son ripe
for college ; and, in hismother’s opinion, needing only that
mv PLACE i s rm: court'rnv . 1 1 1
stepping-stone to advancement to reach the highest dignities
o f church or state. It had long been her ambition to beholdh imin trencher cap and gown . Now Richard is comehome,” said she to her somnolent spouse, I shall get himto manage it forme.
”H is younger sister, Mrs. Millegan,
w hose husband, in addition to his own farm, managed thelarge estates of the Earl of Mowbray, and who was accordi nglymuch noticed by the ladies at Mowbray End, had longbeen desirous of possessing some sort of carriage, even a
pony cart, in which she could make her a arance
w hen company was staying in the house, wit out dust ormudUpon her shoes or traces of plebeian moisture on her brow.
Now Richard is come home," cried she to her threeeager daughters,
’ I shall get himtomanage it forme.
”
For these cogent reasons, the differentmembers of hisfamily were severally thou h simultaneously careful not to
g race the exile’s welcome ome with any demonstration of
personal comfort. Both brothers and sisters were really andu naffectedly delighted to see him; but they were just ninetythousand times as fond of himas when, in his bobble-deho hood, a passage was taken for himin the outward-boundship fated to convey himto the Hottentots and cobra-deos ll
‘
as. But instead of rejoicin heartily with hire on hisas e return, slaying the fatted cuff, and listening politely ifn ot attentively to his Eastern romances, each had a tale to tello f “moving accidents by flood and fell -of the badness of
the times ; the defaulture of parishioners ; the rise of drygoods and tobaccos ; the fall of stocks ; the un remittinga spect of affairs both public and private
-and noteed oftheir usual hearty jovialit each spoke in a plaintive tonew ith elevated eyebrows an depressedmonth. Each wantedbut a little, however, of being able to face with cheerfulnessthe ills of life. Robert, the solicitor, honestly confessed thathe had no doubt ofmaking his way in the world, and bringing up his family respectably, if he were only able to aCCOM e
p lish the purchase of Clammer Mill Farm. Jacob had nofau lt to find with his condition in life ; but it was a grievousthing to see ten or a dozen fine boys cooped up like quails ina pou lterer
’s cage, or turned out on the village green to pla
‘
w ith vagabonds or trampers, because there was no rooml;themin their oor father
’s confined and unwholesome house.
Maria shows himalbums full of herpoor dear Dick’s Fu
g itive poetry ; and appealed to him, whether it would not hea thousand pities that somuch genius should blush unseen
1 12 I ! PLACE i n run counrnv .
for lack of the distinctions of the University -while Nancyhinted that if she could butmanage to keep up appearancesa little better, she had very little doubt of securing one of the
young Mowbrays as a husband for her daughterAnne ; onlywhen the poor girlsmade their appearance in the saloon at
Mowbray End, panting and
!puffing after their walk, w ith
the comlexion of a cook in e basting act, it was not to be
suppo they could look to advantage.
PoorRichard was atfirstmightil‘ydistressed to observe the
desponding condition of his kins 01k. There cou ld not
apparently be four more uncomfortable families than those
which had unceasingly favoured him, during his res idence
among theHottentots, with glowing pictures of their domestic ha piasas; and entreaties that he would hasten to w itness
and share it. Their retensions, however, were far fromexorbitant. Hewas in Opes thatfive thousand pounds w ould
cover the whole amount of theirambition ; and what was fivethousand out of ninety Z—Within a week, therefore, after
his arrival at the dapper residence of his brother Robert, hehad promised universal happiness to the family ; purchasedthe Clammer Mill estate ; resented to Jacob the fifteen hundred nds necessary to u ild and furnish the new w ing ;settle eighty pounds a year on Richard Marriot ; an d be
stowed on the astonished Mrs. Millegan a handsome chariot
and set of horses. He cursed the whole family in short
withmany a granted prayer and never was a fin er or
more glowing specimen of the short-sightedness and ingrati
tude of the human race exhibited, than b the dynasty of°
Martindale. Having so readily obtained allthey asked for,they were now prodigious] vexed they had not asked formore. Bob had httle doubt t t his dear Richard would havemadevery littledifficulty in adding theSpringfield Farmto hispurchase which woul d, in fact, havemade the whole amostcomplete thin most valuable investment—amost saleablepro
lperty t—w ile Jacob thought ita great oversight to expend
so urge a sumas fifteen hundred pounds on a college liv ing,while four thousand would have purchased the advowson ofBramfield, where the parsonage and gardens were calcu latedforthe recey ion of a large family (sixmore sons if he liked),and fit to step into at once, without incurring the perplex itiesof brick andmortar z—Mrs. Marriot wokeher unhappy husband three or four times during his alter-dinner dose , tolament that while she was about it she had not begged herbrother to send Tomto Westminster, as well as Dick to
1 14 n ru es rs run cameras .
rivately engaged to his cousin Clotilda Martindale,sole siress to the solicitor and to Clammer Mill farm; and
that the eldest of Jacob’s dozen had been writin verses to
Miss HelenaMillegan the Mowbray hunter or was now
openly declared among them; and Richard Martindale,accustomed to the pococurantc existence of Africa, and the
dreariness of oriental hssitude, was amazed that they could
all take somuch pleasure in talking so loud and so fast ;and
'
above every thing, was seriously disgusted by the mercenary character betrayed b everymember of his family .
He had not been in Englan long enough to know the value
of a on, the burdensomencss of a numerous progeny,and emortification of bein overreached l
At len growing semew at irritable, he began to fancyhimself ilious ; and having packed himself and his Y ork
tan coloured serving-man (it 18 im ible to designate him
a valet) into a yellow chariot resemling, with the exception
of the hammercloth, his ill-starred present to the w ife of
LordMowbray’s agent, he set off for Cheltenhamas fast as
fru
iipost horses woul him. If he could not get rid
be something to get rid of his
family.
i t? ri ses rs rm: court'rnr 1 15
CHAPTER II.
80 thistles wear the softest downTo hide their
lprieltles, till they
’re grown ;
And then doc are themselves, and tearWhatever ventures to come near.
Henn a“.
Pooa Martindale felt as if released fromthe house of bondage as he walked jauntingly along the Montpelier Parade,arrayed in a new coat, new boots, new gloves, new everything ; betrayin in every look andmovement the luxuriousnabob, intent on
°
s own rejuvenescence, and enchanted withthe stir and cheerfulness of an English watering-place.
And ifhis object in visitin
gCheltenhamwere to recruit
his health and spirits, the e ort was speedily effectual ; forat the close of ten da hemade his way to the spring, not
onlymore spruce an self-complacent than ever, but havinga very pretty woman appended to his arm. Discouraged inhis attem to diffuse happiness and sow contentment in hisown fami y, be had conceived a determination to become thefounder of a new family for a renewal of the esperi
ment.Although forty
-four in years, and fifty in cornplexion (hisface having verymuch the appearance of a last year
’s russet.
in apple), Richard was by no means an ill-looking man ;an but for a little excess of showiness in his costume,might have passed for a gentlemanly one. Havin
gltontined
his way to a high appomtment at the Cape, be ad lived
there in the best official society ; and was in fact a better
bredman than either Robert or Jeach, his brsthrcn. who,
1 10 in rnscn i s r un court'rnv.
between themselves, afl’
ected to look upon himas a Hotten
tot. But whether ill-looking, ill-dressed, ill-bred, or well,itmattered not. A handsome equ ipage, and the reports cir
cu lated by his York-tan coloured servant, had induced an
Opinion that he was aman of millions ; and it naturally followed that he soon became an object of universal esteemand
admiration . It happened that a Scotch banker, the brother
or cousin of his own agent, was sojourning at Chelten
ham; through whose busy intervention, divers loo-play ingdowagers andmammas ofmany daughters,managed tomakethe acquaintance of the bachelor-nabob. The found Rich
ard Martindale quite ready to fall in love, an be fallen in
love w ith : and with the natu ral hankering after a little bit
of dignity so remarkable among the w isemen and the fool
ish who visit us fromthe East, he soon anchored his afi'
ec
tions on Miss Mary-Matilda Grinderwell, daughter of a
Dorsetshire Baronet ; a bewitching creature, with pinkcheeks, flaxen hair, a stiff muslin frock and coloured shoes,exactly afier the pattern of an angel in a pantomime, or a dollat a bazaar. Sir John and Lady Grinderwell were enchant
ed w ith the prospect of securing such a son-ia-law ; andthough, on examination into his exchequer and treasu ry esti
mates, Mr; Martindale proved to have exactly four hundredand fifteen thousand pounds less than common fatne had ledthemto expect, he hadg
uite asmuch as warranted themincalling him aman of our or five thousand a year,
"
(for aBaronet of landed estate knew better than to talk abouteighty
-five thousand pounds, ) and they had the satisfactionto perceive that nothing cou ld be more liberal and docilethan his notions about settlements for his dear Mary-Matilda,and her future familAs Mr. Martind e was somewhat out of conceit of his
Hertfordshire relatives, and as Lad Grinderwell w as ofopinion that it wou ld make roomin t a family coach if shewere able to travel back to Grinderwell House without theaddition of her third daughter
’s company, it was a reed that
the marriage ceremony should be performed (w it out cere
mony) at Cheltenham. Richard Martindale’s chariot w as
as good as new,—his wardrobe quite that of a bridegroom;
and as to his dear Mary-Matilda, the Cheltenhammantu amakers and milliners far exceeded any notions of fashionshe had ever been permitted to indulge. A showy flimsytrousseau was therefore speedily gathered together. Mar
tindale made a flying journey to Bath for the purchase of
1 18 xv u ses i n run consrav .
Mademoiselle de Scudér ’s novels) all the incidents of their
pasr lives. Mary-Matilda was beginning. to yawn w ider and
ofiener than was either becoming or safe, considerin g the
state of the atmosphere ; and itwas at length agreed between
themthat, although travelling was a delightful thing, it
would be stillmore delightful to settle in a good wedoses for thewinter.
Theworld was all before themwhere to chooseRichard spoke of Hertfordshire ; Mary
-Matilda thought
of London —and lest either should obtain ascendancy in this
their firstmatrimonial privy-council, they mutually deter
mined on Bath. They could not have chosen better. Bath
was precisely the place for theman who could select a car
riage for country use with a blue bullion hammercloth , andfor a lady who could set of on a tour to themountain s in awhite satin hat and feathers. To Bath they went en gaged
a handsome house, ve dinners, were visited by everybod and before e return of spring made man ifest toRichard that he would shortly be the happy father of a little
Dick, Mrs. Martindale, the daughter of Sir John G rinder
wsll,—Mrs. Martindale, whose fine clothes were now re
placed by still finer, and who were such beautiful pearls and
such a uantity of ostrich feathers,- was pronounced to ht
one of e beauties of Bath, and“quite the wa nan of fash
ion." Richard rewmore persuaded than ever that he was
the luckiest and ppiest ofmen ; and Mrs. Millegan (whoadaughters had been finished at a Ba
th boarding-school , and
retained several correspondents there) was ready to expire ofindignation on learning in what st le her brother lived , andthat Mrs. RichardMartindale
’s ball
yhad been themost spleno
did of the Circus and the Season. Thewhole of the Martin
dale famil had, in the first instance, received the an nounce
ment of hi s marriage as a personal injury ; and their onlycomfort was in pointing out that one of a Baronet
’s many
daughters could not but prove a very unthrift
yhelpmate.
They had fancied Richard, at forty-four, aman 0 more sensethan to be captivated by the first pretty face that came in hiswa and now that he had actually become the prey of a
gir of whomhe was old enough to be the father, and who
would doubtlessmake himfather of as large a family as thatwhich blessed the union of her own prolific father and mether, the cared nothow little they heard about him. Clammer Mil proved a profitable bargain
—Jacob’s wing had
mt rmca IN THE couur ar . 1 19
been finished by contract so as to leave himtwo hundred
pounds in pocket ; Dick Marriot was doing wonders at
Cambridge ; and all congratu lated themselves on having beenso rompt in screwing what they wanted out of the pocket of“ t at silly fellow , Richard.
”
Mrs. Millegan was the on ly one of the family who wasimplacable. Had she dreamed on Dick
’s arrival in England
that he was likel tomake a fool of himself bymarr ing, shecertainly would ave spoken out at the period of his insulting her by the present of that useless, showy carriage ; a
thing, as Millegan observed at the time, that would requ ire
a con le of hundreds a year to keep it up a thing, as LadyChar otte and Lady Jemima Mowbray had been observingever since,
“quite inconsistent with their establishment and
style of living a thing she had never sought—neverw ishedfor. Had he given her a pony cart, as she hinted to him,there wou ld have been some sense in it. But a Londonchariot and horses l—and suchhorses lame, blind, spavined,w indgalled Mr. Millegan had sold themfor a song to
the Red Dragon atHertford, and they were actually running
in themail 1’ x
Little Nancy (who was now a woman of some fifteenstone) could by nomeans pardon her brother ; and when thenewspa rs eventually announced that the lady of Richard
Martin ale, of the Circus, Bath, had given birth to a son and
heir, the sole ejacu lation of her sisterly tenderness on the
occasion was, Much goodmay it do him1” It was but an
au gmentation of her wrath, when she learned fromher
brother Robert, whomas her husband’sman of business it
had not been convenientto her to include in her family quarrel,that this addition to the tribe of Martindale had been chris
tened Grinderwell. Grinderwell Martindale —Perhapssome day or other to become Sir Grinderwell Martindale
T he euphony of such a title l—Why could not Dick content
himself with one of the family names, Richard, Robert, orJacob 2 Between aMiss Clotilda, and a MasterGrinderwell,the Martindale family was likely to descend in a pretty wayto posterity.
”
CHAPTER III
All quit theirhomes, and rush into the sea.
Cowm .
Moon as Mr. and Mrs. Martindale were delighted, and had
reason to be delighted with Bath, the summer season of
course suggested that, although that lively spot is the countryto London, it is a city to the country. It was indispensable
too, to secure a change of air for the accouchée but as
unfortunately the period for Sir John and Lady Grinderwell’s
annual migration fromGrinderwell House was already ar
rived, it was useless to think of accepting the invitations w ith
which, fromthe moment of their marriage, they had beenweekly favoured by the Baronet. Martindale suggested.however, (perhaps in consideration for Mrs. Richard
’s family
feelings, perhaps for the advantage of restoring his sister-ia
law Julia to the care of her affectionate parents, the younglady having arrived at Bath with her brother Captain Grinderwell soon after their settlement there) that they should
join Sir John and Lady Grinderwell at Exmouth, where thefamily was about to pass the autumn a projectseconded w ithrapture by Mary
-Matilda, who was dying to show her babyand her new set of earls to Ma and sisters, and to whis r in
confidence to Harri et and Anne how ver stran ely Ju l ia hadbeen flirting with a half-pay Captain o the G oucestershire
militia. TheMartindales were therefore soon established at
Exmouth, within a few doors of the Grinderwells an d, as
Richard repeatedly observed to an an old Cape chumw homhe accidentally met there, nothin could be pleasan ter or
more cheerful than their little fami y party. 80many young
122 xv u ses: In THE cotJN'rrt
'
r.
scarcely’pays for their daily visits to the confectioners
’shops,
I fanc“ Ihover hear of Mary
-Matilda’s visits. I assure you.
Julia, Harriet, and Anne, may have been occasionally seen
taking an ice, by way of excuse for flirting w ith the ofi c ers.
"
The officers ? Po ison—Marry into a family of su ch a
description ? I would as soon look out for a Mrs. W arton
in a stroller’s barn l—Ay, ay, Dick, ou
’ll soon get tired of
this ragamuffin watering-place sort of life and when you’ve
got a comfortable place in the country, letme know , and I’ll
come and pass amonth w ith you .
”
Long before the close of the autumn, Ned Warton’s pre
dictions were partly verified. Martindale grew heartily sick
of watering laces ; and was beginn ing to think the G rin der
well young adies too flippant, a nd the Grinderw ell young
gentleman too noisy. Sir John was a grumpy, discon ten tedmdicaL—a professed liberal and domestic tyrant ; an d as to
her ladyship, since she left off hermaternal exercises, the
poor woman had done nothing but stuff and sleep. I t sometimes occurred to poor Richard, moreover that he was madea butt b the captains of hussars, lancers, dragoons, carabi
neers, usileers, and fencibles, who lounged in his house,drank his claret, and flirted w ith his sisters-ia-law . He
began to be tired of a round of comany, and to lon g for a
quiet study or book-roomto spell t e newspapers in ; and
almost regretted that there were still threemonths un expired
of his year’s residence in theCircus. To be sure the w aters
were supposed to be useful to his rheumatism; and he likedhisWhist Club, and found his neighbours Sir Hookah Smith,and Sir Sangaree Brown extremely agreeable. B ut at his
time of life ( it was the first time he had ever been heard to
allude to his time of life,” even in soliloquy) people wantedto be quiet. There was toomuch bustle atBath for amanof five-and-forty, worn out out b a hot climate.
Neverthelesswhen the termof is stay therewas on thepointof expiring, his resolution to quit was almost shaken by thenumerous ar
guments brought forward byMary
-Matilda for arenewal of t e lease. She should somuch like to be con
fined again at Bath -and Ma had promised that Ann e and
Harriet should come an d pass the winter with her —Thislast declaration was decisive. Martindale intmediately protested that to prolong their residence at Bath was out of the
question, thattheair disagreed withhim; and after one or two
av ru es rs r imcous r nr . 1 23
floods of tearsmore nearly approaching to hysterics than anythi ng she had attempted Si nce her scene in the vestry on herw edding
-day, Mrs. Richard consented to accompany her lordandmaster to Nerot
’s Hotel, till they coul
able residence in town . It was not that
notion of figuring in London but she had a
c ion that, although a somebody a t Bath and a veryable somebody at Exrhouth, she should be a nobody in thethemetropolis. Tel bri lle aresecond mng gwi. s
’éclipsc am.
p remier and, after shining as a fixed star in the Circus, it
was very hard to dwindle into one of the thousandthmagnitude in Baker-street, or Gloucester-place. Unused to Lon
don, she was certain she shou ld find it very dull -nor did
her arrival in Clifford-street on a foggy evening in November, tend to brighten her opinions on the subject. It was not
till, at the close of a w eek, she found herself comfortablysettled in a handsome house in Harley
-street, with an equallyhandsome establishment, that she began to admit the possinbility of living in London .
Richard Martindale was now happier than he had been
since the first fortnight of his original arrival at Chel
tenham.
In Harley and the half-dozen adjoining streets, he hadat least half a dozen oriental acquaintances, w ith whomhecou ld sit goa ipping about things, people, and places, —eventspast, present, and to come , —wholly uninteresting to the
k ingdomin general. Instead of one whist club at Bath, he
had now four ; and instead of the captains of hussars, lan
cers, dragoons, carabineers, fusileers, and fencibles,—he hadhis friend Ned Warton , besides eight Directors, six Calcutta
nabobs, and two yellow Knights Companions who had servedw ith distinction at Bhurtpoor. With the assistance of a
specu lative agent, he still contrived to receive four thousand
a year income fromhis eighty-five thousand pounds 1 and ashis brother Robert often observed, aman might really livelike a prince on such a fortune -and do something for hisfimily into the bargain.
”
CHAPTER IV .
A womanmoved is like a fountain troubled ,Muddy, ill
-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.
Sum ac .
It! every great metropolis there must necessarily
great variety of circles and coteries, as of classes in the vegstable or animal creation . It is absu rd to attempt the sw eeping distinctions of equestrian and destrian, patrician and
plebeian , in a city numbering amil ion and a half of in habit
ants. Even theminori of the patriciansmay be subd ividedinto several classes ; an as to the plebeians, Linnama himself would be puzzled to dispose of the varieties !
Now the coterie to which the Martindales instinc tivelyattached themselves, was of the genus called din ne r-giv
in
g’people,
”a large and (as the newspapers say) in fluen
tia body (chiefly resident in the N. N . W . of Lon don),whomake it the business of their lives to assemble at their
tables three or four times amonth sixteen well dressed individuals, severally possessed of an amount of plate, linen,china, and domestics, equal to their own ; and who in reward
for thismechanical act of hospitality, are entitled to dine on
all the other days, in a company equally numerous, an d onriands equally delicate. The ambition of displayin g at
their own board,meat in due season and fruit out of i t,
of obtaining Sir Thomas' opinion that their hock is superiorto that of Sir Charles, and securing Lady Charlotte
’s ver
dict that their peaches are three weeks earlier than those of
Sir Thomas,—sufiices for their happiness ; and there is a
steadiness of dull decorumabout the tribe, an afi'
ectation of
rationalit and charming peo le”-sort of excellence, essentially di erent fromthe Sprig tliness of ball-haunters and
we as ru es mn : cons u l .
i ther and mother,might have been expected to tbrmsomedrawback on his domestic enjoyments, -tu rned out fi t better
than cou ld have been anticipated ; for, follow ing the destin ies
of her sex, shewas fated to behold a littleRichard Martindale
arrive so soon after a little Grinderwell, —a little George so
shortly after little B ichard,—and a little Clara, Maria, and
Sophia, in the three following years, that she had no le isure
to domore than sit at the head of Richard’s dinner-table, andexhibit her expansive person at a few annual halls in the
neighbourhood of Portland-place. Her eldest sister had
married the Grinderwell curate ; Anne had eloped w ith an
Irish lieutenant of infantry ; and Julia had become the w ife
of a. General Mac Glashan , chief agent of Bolivar, or p rimen
ainister of the Cacique of Poyt
l
t
l
ia, or Cha
grfl
épénof the
fix
c equer at Lima, or some one a ity , w on
shemet atBath, and with whomshfihhfily afterwards sail.
ed for South America -but Mrs’
. Martindale had very little
share in promoting either of these three suitable alliances.
On herown account, too, she had given up all interest in the
attractions of captains of hussars, lancers, or dragoons, carabineers, fusileers, or fencibles ; and, following the usual routme of an empty-headed, hollow-hearted woman , had laidaside the coquette to become the dawdle. Although still
devoted to dress, her finery was amere affair of competitionwith Mrs. Calicut, or Lady Kedgeree, or Lady Hookah
Smith ; and the greater part of her tin e was spen t. as a
matter of routine, in gossipping with her head nurse or the
a th In the autumn, they all went to the sea , forc ange 0 air for the children ; at Christmas, they either paida family visit to Grinderwell Hall , or took a course of theCheltenhamwaters ; but they were always back again inHer] a tte st byFebruar to be ready for the east wind , andtheir vourite Saturday inner parties. The were reg ularin their appearance at the gay church of St. arylehone on
Sundays ; regular in their drive afterwards in Hyde Parkregular in an annual exhibition at the draw ing
-room; and
regular in all the other evolutions of the opulent medio
It is not to be supposed that such a un
fit of conten tment
and ease could fail of attracting the notice that busy enemyofmankind, who, fromthe days ofJob to those of Georg e III. ,has been so apt to interfere in the household happ
iness of thehuman race. Though the Martindale famil ad kept it
nothing of that cordial intercourse with poor chard which
mv ru es IN THE COUNTRY . 127
marked his original advent at Nerot’s hotel, and though theirindifference towards himhad unque
s tionably increased in
proportion to the sprouting and spreading of his olive
branches, therewasa decentdegreeorexhibition of friendlinesskept up among them. Whenever Robert or Jacob visitedLondon on business, they dined in Harley
-street ; and usuallyreturned the compliment by a leash of partridges on the first
of September, or a brace of pheasants on the first of October,when they were sure the family were out of town ; and on
occasion of Mrs. Richard’s annual accouchement, her spouse,
in the fulness of his joy,made it a point to despatch a letter of
announcement to each of his sisters and sisters-ia-law .
But various changes had now taken place in the unitedMartindale clan. Marriot senior, the drowsy, was now
sleeping his last sleep ; and Marriot junior, the genius (towhose education uncle Richard had so absurdly dedicatedthe sumof two thousand pounds), was reigning in his stead.
Having augmented his paternal estate by the sour of fifieenthousand pounds reluctantly ceded with the fair hand of hisdaughter Clotilda, by his uncle the attorney, Mr. Marriot ofStarling Park had become, or fancied himself to have become,aman of some consequence in the county . As the relative
of their agent the worthy Millegan, the Mowbrays were inthe habit of honouring himwith a gracious bow when theysaw himat theHon races, or the cricketmatches or archerymeetings of the count and of inviting himw ith hi s showybride to-all their pubhc days at Mowbray End.
But on the spring succeeding his fortunate marriage;Richard Marriot, giving loose perhaps to the inspirations ofthat genius so much lauded by his mother, took it into hishead to pass amonth or two in town. He was now in posv
session of nearly three thousand a year, and shrewdly sus
pected himself to be almost as great a man as his uncle
Richard ; and having, by means of a house agent, settled
himself in a half dirty , half tawdry house in Welbeokostreet,
flew to secure an introduction for his talking, show
ysuper
ficial bride, to Mrs. Richard ; who, as a baronet’s aughter,
was accounted the grandee of the Martindale family. Mar
riot had hinted to Clotilda, previous to their arrival in town ,that very likely aunt Richard might be moved to introduceher into society and present her at cou rt ; and the belle of
the cguntry town had preconcieved a notion of thematron of
Harley-street as of themost fashionable, or as she called it
tom'
s]; woman in London .
1 28 x v ru es IN run courtr-av.
A large and rapid increase of family is said to be as bad forthe temper as for the figure ; and however copiously devel
oped Mrs. Richard Martindale’s or
gan of philoprogen itive
ness, certain it is that she was by nomeans somi ld and con
ciliating as when figuring of yore in the Bath pump-room;or playing the chaperon to her sisters on the esplanade at
We
ymouth. Her nephew Marriot moreover, was pre
cise y one of the human bein 3 towards whomher mi lk of
human kindness was thoroughly soured. She cou ld n ever
forgive himthe sacrifice of two thousand pounds (two thousand pounds, robbed as it were by anticipation from her
unborn progeny) to afiix an empty initial honour to the nameof an individual whose obscure existence at Starling Park
certainly demanded no such evidence of scholarship . She
had always disliked Mr. Marriotas a presuming consequoung
/gentleman t and now thathe had assumed new d ith squ irearchical andmatrimonial, she repured herself to
dislike himmore than ever. She would ave borne almostany other relative of her husband
’s. Poor William, the son
of the Rev . Jacob, who was nowmarried to one of his Milo
legan cousins, and settled as an under master at Charter
House School, was always warmly though patron iz inglywelcomed in Harley-street ; but Mr. and Mrs. Marriot, with
their bright green carriage, and passion for finery and sight
seeing, were poorMrs. Richard’s aversion, or, as Liston says,
Imay eu herfavouriteaversion .
”
Now C otilde was one of those impenetrable persons, towhomit was almost impossible to give offence. An onlydaughter,—4he sole heiress of one of the most opu lent and
influential residents in a small country-town, whosessing c onsiderable electioneering tact, was always verymuch courted in his own person as well as in those of his
wife and daughter,—she had been in the habit of consideringherself of somuch importance, that she could not for an ia
stant suppose thatany onewas inclined to think of her dispar
agingl or treat her disrespectfully. She had considered
hersel a very fine thing when worshipped at thecountry balls
as Miss Clotilda Martindale ; but she thou ht herself amuchfiner as Mrs. Marriot of Starling Park, w it a new carriage of
her own , a new visiting ticket, 8. new set of pearlsmounted incornucOpias, and above all, -a Place in the Country.
"
That Mrs. Richard Martindale could be inclined to slight a
person thus various] and richly endowed, was of course out
of the question an when young Mrs. Marriot paid her
‘
1 30 It? PLACE IN THE COUNTRY.
But if, b the supercilious way in which she raised her
eyeglass to er eye to investigate the arrangements of thetable, Mrs. Martindale contrived to excite the choler of her
niece, Clotilda managed shortly to return the compliment,and w ith compound interest. She had invited to meet thewoman of consequence of her own family, the womanof consequence of her own neighbourhood. The Wel
beck-street party consisted, in addition to the four Martin
dalians, of Mr. Blickling, the county member, and the
Hon . Mrs. B lickling his w ife ; a Mr. and Mrs. Cleverley, of
Peplar Grove, in the same neighbourhood ; besides two
Honourable Mowbrays, a younger Marriot (a man of wit
and fashion about town ), and one or two college friends of
the host. In such a circle, the Richard Martindales hadvery little to say. There was no opportunity fororientalismsfromuncle Richard, or nursery anecdotes fromhis ladynothing was discussed but the agricultural interests and Hert
fordshire topics ; and instead of Portland-place balls, Wimo
pole-street concerts, and the beauties of the new Easter piece,
Mr. and Mrs. Richard were com lled to hear of Hatfield,Gorhambury, Panshanger, and t e theatricals of the Hoe.
Even when the ladies retreated to the drawing-room, and
the partie quarrée formed by Mrs. Blickling and Mrs. Cleo
verley on one sofa, and Clotilda and her aunt on the other,commenced the usual tittle-tattle peculiar to such occasions,Mrs; Richard was struck dumb by rceiving that neither of
her three companions were in the s'
ghtest degree interested
on her account of a family squabble between her first andsecond nurses about a dose of rhubarb for her second boy,such as she was in the habit of quoting after dinner at her
friend Mrs. Calicut’s. Mrs. Blickling had the politeness to
cry“ indeed ! more than once in the course of her narra
tive ; but it was clear she did not enter into the history withrightmaternal interest ; and like Constance, Mrs. Martindale was tempted to exclaim,
She talks tome, that neverhad a son.
Mrs. Cleverly and the bride,meanwhile, having none either,turned a decidedly deaf ear to the whole anecdote andwhen
Mrs. Richard arrived at the close of the talewith and next
day, or nurse came tome with tears in her eyes, and told
me 8 e should have no objection to stay, provided Imade ita rule inmy nurser that the under nurse was not to stir the
children’s tea she found that Clotilda and the lady of
av PLACE xx ran court-rain 1 3 1
P oplar Grove were deep in housew ifely details of a differentn ature.
Oh, yes !”cried Clotilda, who, no longer having the
fear of aunt Martindale so strongly before her eyes, had re
assumed her loud volubility I assure you we have up all
o u r pou ltry and vegetables fromStarling Park . It is reallyimpossible to keep a decent table in London unless one has a
P lace in the Country .
"
I have generally heard, observed Mrs. Richard con
temptuously, “ that Covent Garden is the best garden in
E ngland.
”
For those who are accu stomed to adu lterated London
prov isions, no doubt it is,”
retorted her n iece but when
people requ ire things to be pure and wholesome and in a
n atural state” there is something so nasty, something so re
v o lting, in the way in which Battersea vegetables are forced,an d London poultry fattened .
Horrible indeed exclaimed Mrs. Blickling, I own
I never can prevail onmyself to touch that tell-tale colossal
asparagus, or those disgustingly bloated fow ls. IVe have a
c a rt twrce a week through the season fromour Place in the
Co untry.
”
Mr. Cleverley w ill eat none but his ownmutton ,the lady of Poplar Grove.
And I own I never fancy any but the B lickling ven isonobserved the Member’s lady, w ith a grand, parkish sort of
air and tone.
What lovely jonquils l” interloped Mrs. Richard, anx
iou s to get. rid of these details of the buttery hatch. Add
the double violets are really quite luxurious ! How very fra
g rant l”
Pray let me offer you a bunch if you are fond of
th em, cried her n iece w ith patron izing graciousness.
We have quantities sent us up fromStarling almost everydaX
It is so convenient to have one’s place within a certain
d istance of town ,”said Mrs. B lickling . When I hear
people parading about their estates in Yorkshire or Devon
sh ire, I always recollect the convenience of driving down to
peace and tranqu ility with asmuch ease as if we were goingto a dejeuner atWimbledon Three hours take us to Blickl ing . We even have up all our creamfor ices, and homemade bread. In short I look upon Blickling as the farmwhich supplies our table. I should hate a place in one of
“Y PLACE I N THE COUNTRY .
the remote counties. I hOpe, however, I amnot offendingMrs. Martindale by saying so l—Ia what coun ty is Mrs.Martindale
’s seat l
”
Mary Matilda, thus interrogated, could not but rep ly ; and
though it was with a visage the colour of a stick of red seal
ing-wax, she managed to make her answer as d ig n ified as
as periphrasis cou ld render it.
My father, Sir John Grinderwell, lives in Dorsetshire.
At present, Mr. Martindale has no country-seat.
The at resent”conveyed of course to themin d of two
out of the t ree ladies, that Mr. Martindale was a landed
proprietor in expectancy. Mrs. M. herself was probably in
the entail of the Grinderwell estates.
No country-seat l—How very tiresome that mu st be
drawled Mrs. Cleverley of Poplar Lodge, leaning back on
the cushions of the sofa w ith a singular augmen tation of
self-importance. And what do you do with yourse lf at the
close of the season ?”
We generally go to the sea,”snarledMrs. Richard ; where,
I observe, wemeet al l our friends who have fine seats of their
own , of which they are for themost part horribly ti red so
that if Mr. Martindale andmyself had an taste for a place
in the autumn, wemight find hundreds to e let, and the sat
isfaction of a choice.
’
But that is so different froma place of one’s own —eja
culated Clotilda, looking sentimental, and twisting her ermineboa till she pulled off a tail . I declare I know every bushand briar at Starling ; and there is not a flower in the gardenwhich does not inspire
‘ thoughts too deep for tears .
”
L
‘
3Nothing like a place of one
’s own !” cried Poplar
o ge.
No, —nothing like a place of one’s own !”
exclaimedBlickling Hall.
N0,—notlting like a place of one’s own I” echoed Star
ling Park.
Besides, onecannot hi re a place for the Easter ho lidays,orWhitsuntide, or even now and then when one
’s ch ildren
requ ire a week’s change of air.
”
We change the air by goin to Brighton ,
”said Mrs.
Richard, trying to subdue hers into an air ofmi ldness.
Mostmedical men are of Opinion that sea-air is the bestthing for children ; and I amtold Sir Henr Halford is decidedly of Opinion that theWestClifl
'
atBrig on equals Mont
pelier or Madeira.
”
CHAPTER V.
Papillia, wedded to her amorous spark,Sight for the shades
—How charming is a pay} !on .
FROM the da of this fatal dinner-party Richard Martindale’s
fate was fixed, Mrs. Richard, like the dying Falstaff, coulddo nothing but babble of green fields and her head-nurse
began to assure her that itwas plain she had a longing for
a place in the country .
”Almost before the close of the
season, she expressed a determination to avoid B righton
while those odious citizens were there, who on ly went
because they had no place of their own and yet, though
protesting against every spotalong the coastfromScarboroughand Cromer to Ilfracomb and Tenb she ersisted in de
elat ing that the seven little Martin es won d not be able toexist seven da 8 longer w ithout country air.
Itwas in vain thatRichard su
ggested expedients . Rams
fite,
”she observed, was 80 g aring ; Broadstairs so g lum;
argate so vu lgar Dover so bustling ; Worthing so tame ;Hastings so gossipping ; Weymouth so countryfied ; Ex
mouth, Sidmouth, Torquay, and the Welch coast, so in coaveniently remote. Harrogate smelt like a gunsmith’s shop ;Burton was full of Irish dowagers ; Malvern was a merestare over a tailor
’s book of patterns ; Cheltenhamremin ded
her toomuch of old times, and Leamington of new people.
The water did not agree w ith her at Tun ridge ; and a w eekat Southend would condemn the whole family to the ag ue.
"
Richard then proposed a family crusade against G rinderwell House. But Sir John Grinderwell had on ly beendead six months ; Sir Joseph, her elder brother, had not yettaken possession ; and the Dowager Lady was living there
x v ru es tu ‘rnn court
'rnr . 135
p ro tempore. As a last resource, therefore, he asked herw hat she thought of a round of v isits in Hertfordshire l—Hisb rothers and sisters, she knew , had often invited them; andh is n iece Clotilda would be enchanted to have themall for amonth at Starling Park.
This was ouring oil upon the flame. Mrs. Richard, halfw himpering alf sulky, took this opportunity of pointing out
to his notice that he, -the richest of the famil -was theo n ly one of itsmembers who was not blest wit a countr
s eat and the unhappyman, not venturing to suggest thathew as also the only one who possessed a house in town ,—wasw ise enough to look penitent, and verymuch ashamed of
b e ing buta second son . Even when assured by his wife that,a c c ustomed fromher infancy to the pride, pomp, and circums tance of Grinderwell House, she had no taste for a countrya ttorney
’s square red
-brick house, the frontand oflices lookingin to the by
-street of a provincial town while the rear comn anded only the dam Clammer-Mill meadows, -those
meadow; urchased w it his own money, and of right thep roperty ofpoor dear little Grinderwell,—hehad not couragefo r reply or explanation.
As to a country visit at the Parsonage, muttered the
d iscontented fair one, I declare I wou ld as soon introduce
my poor babies into a kennel of foxhounds, as amon those
g reat rudebears ofMr. Jacob Martindale. A bo in a eather
cap and corderoys, ismymortal aversion : and vs of themI amcertain I should have one ofmy nervous fevers
before I left the place.
Well,my love, what say you to a little visit tom sister
M i llegan She, you know , has no bears of boys tokill thechildren with hugging. One only of her girls is now nu
married : and I assure you nothing can bemore orderl thanher establishment, nothingmore compactand comfortab e thanher house.
”
Very likely. When eople have a place of their own in
the country, it is worth t eir while tomake it comfortable,an d to keep their establishment in order. A house in town
is onl half a home ; one never feels settled in it ; and the
so rt 0 rambling life we lead in going fromwatering place tow atering lace, is little better than sauntering away our best
years w it out aimor purpose. It is so different—so veryd ifferent, when people have a place of their own, which theyembellish and improve for the sake of the children who comeafter them—Heigho l
”
The child, you mean,my love ; except the eldest son, I
136 I t PLACE i n r un. court'rav .
know not who benefits by the outlay. Now atGrinderwell,for instance, your
Where there is rank to be kept up, as is the case w ith
my family,” said the Baronet’s daughter, looking like an
empress, “ the thin is very different. But at worst a mortgage for the bone t of the younger children wi ll a lways
bring matters straight. However, it is useless discu ss ingthe subject. We are never likely to have a place in the
country, and it therefore signifies very little how other
people arran e their affairs. I know not, indeed , why I
should ever or a moment fancy you would desire such a
thing. Your famil having always been content to res ide in
a country town, an you having passed your life in a colony,it is scarcely to be expected that you should be sensible to the
charmof an hereditary house-a place where peo le strive
to be respected, in order that their children after t emmayenjoy the odour of their good name.
”
I don’t see why people run not be respected
cried Richard, somewhat iqu by this last taunt. P eoplemay always bequeath an onest name to their children . In
professions, for instance, in trade, ia
Professions,- trade cried Sir Joseph Grinderwell’s
sister, despising the Hartford doctor’s son, as heartily as ifhe had not elevated her to a condition of life far beyond herclaims or pretensions. I really hopey
ou will not talk sobefore the children, for the are getting 0 d enough to understand you -and what wil little Grinderwell think 2
“And how do you decide about this visit to theMillegans2"
o-a sked Richard, afraid of being too angry unless he changedthe sub set.W at visit
‘
l—I’msure I never thought of any. Thereis nothing that would bemore disagreeable tome than to bestayia in a house like that of theMillegans, standing in thever 8 adow of a great establishment such asMowbray End ;an accepted on sufi
'
erance there like a poor relation , or thecurate of the parish ; having Lord Mowbra
’s carriage sent
to take you to dinner, and her ladyship ringing the bel l, andordering it to take you home again , when she is tired of you !-Fromwhat I heard pass between your nieceMrs. Marriotand the young Mowbrays the day I dined in Welbeck-street,such, I amcertain, are the terms on which Lord Mow braylives with his agent
’s family.
”
o
“Millegan is his lordshi’s auditor, it is true, observed
Ri chardMartindale.“But is own family is of very an c ient
138 I t snscs u s c an court-rev .
the a
p‘ethecary ; declare herself indisposed ; lie on the sofa
take rtshorn ; and sentimentalizeherself into languor u pona diet of green tea and custard pudding. She was deter
mined that at least, when the truant d id think proper to return
to the home he had so basely abandoned, he should find her
g as pale as the cambric handkerchief she now in ces
n ntly applied to her eyes. If she did not favour himw ith a
scene on such an occasion, shemight never have another op
portunity.
Five tedious days had passed away. Poor Mrs. Richard,having scolded all her children and asmany of her servants
as she dared, and being too bent on playing the v ictimizedto admit visitors, was growing very tired of herself
and her heroics. At last, on the fifth evening, half furn ished
perseverance of sullen abstinence, and satisfied that as
Saturday n ight, she had no chance of hailing her cul
prit’emarital knock at the door till Mondaymorning , she
suddenly rang the bell, and ordered a supper tray in to herdressing-room. When lo ! just as she had filled her p latewith a provision of cold lamb and sallad enough to havedined a corporal of dragoons, the door was flung open , and
Richard rushed into her arms. The surprise and disappoinment were alike overwhelming . She, who had been pic tures
qaifying in her dressing gown for five longwho had purchased a new bottle of salts for the occas i on ;
rehearsed her shrieks, and prepared her agon izingtears -she to be caught in the fact of a tumb ler ofnegus, and a fat shou lder of lamb -Ir was too
ignomi nious.
“So you are come at last,” cried themortified victim, com
gelled to wipe hermouth instead of her eyes, as she acceptedis warmembrace.
The businesswas not settled till six o’clock this evenincried Richard.
to enjo it.”
I on’t understand you t
”
0
Have you a clean plate there, my dear‘
l” inquiredRichard Martindale, seating himself beside her before thefatal tray, having already rung a bell for a further supply ofkni ves and forks. Do you know I have had no dinner.
Iwas in such haste to get up to you , to tell you the news, thatI Jumped into a post
-chaise the moment it was over. Howare the chi ldren 1”
You will itively driveme distracted. What newsYou have tol me none.
But it is ours, and Heaven sends u s beaglih
in u se: i s r umcouarnv . 139
Your health,m love. How refreshing is a glass of
w ine, after a fatiguing day and a dusty drive ! I suppose
you expectedme, as you have prepared supper lHow was I to expect you
-1 may think myself luckyI see you any time within these six weeks. How cou ld I
possibly guess when itwould suit you to return home 2”
D idn ’t you receivemy letter
What letter tB thismorning’s postt—J 'I ve heard nothing of you , Mr. Martindale, since you
started off on pretence of a visi t to your family, nearly aweekago .
”
How very extraordinar -how devilish provoking !
cried Richard, setting downhis glass. I was so very par
ticu lar about that letter. I inquired so often abou t the post
hou r fromm brother’s clerks. By Jove, -here it is l”
cried he, so enly detecting the neglected dispatch safe in
his waistcoat pocket. Inmy hurry, Imust have forgottento put it in the post.
”
A very convenient excuse.
Well, I amnot sorry for it. The surprisew ill be the
greater.”
What surprise l—J ’
Nay, since on know nothing about the matter, I shallpu nish you for t at cross face bymaking you guess.
"
You are really too vexations —After theweek of dreadfu l an ass I have been passing, to break in upon me in .
this an den way,‘
and perplex me w ith all these mysteries.
How amI know what mean i”My dearest love,mot irritate yourself,
”said poor
R ichard, drawing his chair nearer to here, when be per
ceived that she was on the verge of a genuine flood of tears.
I will explain the whole business to you fromthe verybeginning.
No ; I don’t want to hear a word about it,
”cried the
lady, retreating to the sofa in amagnificentfit of the poms.
Believeme, 1 have no curiosity about any of your familyad
'
airs. I dare say you and our brothers canmanagevery well amongst you without any interference ofmine.Doubtless Mr. RobertMartindale
’s professional advice
My dear, dear Mary-Matilda exclaimed her husband,somewhat provoked after a long day
’s fast to be obliged to
procrastinate his cold lamb in honour of her ill-humour.You must be aware thatmy solemotive in making this
140 I t ru es rs ran cons rnv.
purchase is to gratify the desi re you have so long expressed
What purchase 1”ejaculated the breathless lady , jump
ing up fromher reclining position.
The Marygold Hill estate, my love. You know how
eagerly you have besetme lately for a place in the country.
“
Y ou have actually bought a place in the country 1
The papers were signed this afternoon. A great bar
ia, I amtold ; but the purchase was a serious afi e
ive-and-fort thousand pounds ln -But it is themost beautiful thing A 1 within a ring fence -a trout streamrunningthrough the lawn - best preserves in the country
—timbermagnificenu—garden superior to those at Grinderwell Hall!
The Marriots’
place a citizen’s villa by comparison
Drawing roomand library opening into a conservatory of
rare exotics ? saloon forty feet b eightem. But here is
George Robin’s advertisement of place, which original
ly led me into temptation. Domyou remember how Istarted in themidst of reading the newspaper thatmorningat breakfast l—I could not hear or answer a w ord you
said tome, after the notice of salehad ca htmy eye.
Mydear, dear Richard 1
"exclaime the vanqu ished
lady, olding the crumpled newspaper in one hand , and
throwing the other armround his neck. Why did youyou not tellmeat once i "
I think youmust now be satisfied that I have neglected
nothing to fulfil yourwishes‘
l”
I never soar so delighted inmy life l -A finer place thanStarling Park lfl Forty
-five thousand penoh l—Saloon, li
brery, conservatory—Showme theadvertisement, Richard;
showme the description .
”
I can’t, -ah, -here it is. That unique res idence
known b the name ofMaur een ) Htu . situate fivemilesfromthe stiring little county town of Hertford.
’
Good Heavens ! In Hertfordshire ! Just in the midstof all your odious family ! How very provoking I I ’msure
when I told you that ! should like a country seat, I never
dreamed that. without consulting me, you. would think of
going and buying a place in Hertfordshire.-I would as
soon go to
The devil I” cried the indignant husband ; and his new
place in the country was the origin of his first serious quarrel with his wife.
142 I ? ru es. IN r un counrnr .
sleep in the front nurse or the back ; or whether theWor
oester china vases wou d look better in the blue draw ingroomor the chintz breakfast-parlour. It requ ired a w inter
so ascertain which of the chimnies smoked, and which of
the doors requ ired listing ; and a second summer to find out
whether the general clearage of evergreens fromthe court
yard they had been supposed to render damp, and the fall of
a grove of chesnuts protecting the house fromthe western
sun , would prove a seasonable benefit. Mr. Richard had
fromthe first asserted that they could not expect to be comfortable in less than a year. The new plantations could not
be comleted, the new offices finished, or the workmen gotout of t e house in less time.
The year was gone ; the second tolerably advanced ; but
the fair proprietess of Marygold Hill could by nomeans bepersuaded to pronounce herself comfortable. A new little
marygold was budding ; and the fractious invalid could nei
ther bring herself to like the neighbouring apothecary, nor
reconcile herself to the loss of Lady Kedgeree’s daily calls
of inquiry, or her Harle -street neighbour Mrs. Calient’a
hourly councils of gossip. Richard Martindale alreadyaffected the cockney country gentleman sported a fustian
jacket, leathern garters and a bill-hook ; went out before
breakfast, spud in hand, to make war upon the thistles
and dandelions and above all, during the shootingseason was never to be heard of (exce t by the distant report
of his Manton) frombreakfast till inner, or during the
hunting season frombreakfast till luncheon . Mary-Matilda
consequently found her time hang somewhat heavy on her
hands. She was not yet on easy terms with her new neigh
bours ; and her own prev ious experience of a country lifehadbeen made in a house full of giggling sisters and riotous
brothers. But her own girls were too young to giggle, her
boys to dull for mischief ; andmoreover a termagant headnurse, the inseparable primeminister of every silly indolent
mother havingmore than two thousand a year, would on lyallow her the children ’
s company at her own pleasure and
convenience. She had no hereditary interests in the condi
tion of the neighbouring poor, or the prosperity of the neigh
bouring farmers. A ll were alike strangers ; and though the
Martindale family were very kind in volunteering visits to
Marygold Hill, theyalways came w ith prying, investigating,arithmetical looks ; Mrs. Robert begging her to take herdaughter Marriot
’s advice in the management of her dairy
and housekeeper’s accounts ; Mrs. Jacob, spunging for
x v ru es i s ru n cous r nr. 143
cuttings fromthe greenhouse or a breed of her choiceDorkings ; Mrs. Millegan annihilating the utmost efforts of herfine ladyismby a sketch of the superior splendours of
bray End ; and Mrs. Marriot, senr. the widow, who was
living in a cottage in her son’s village, overwhelming her
with tracts and controversy. Mrs. Richard was never so ill
as after some of these envious, presuming people had beensta ing atMarygold Hill ; and at length, though reluctantly,and
,
w ith the loneliness of a long w inter in pers ective be
thought her of renewing her correspondence wit her own
married sisters. She longed to figure before themin hernew dignities of patroness of a village and proprietress of a
country seat ; and nothing wasmore easily arranged.- Mrs.
Mac G lashun , who had fancied herself the wife of a Lieutenant-General of Poyais dragoons, now found herself the
widow of an ensign of Irish militia, w ith two young children, whomshe was very glad to quarter on the charity ofanymember of the family willing to provide themwith breadand butter ; andHarriet, whose union with the Grinderwellcurate had caused himto be ejected fromhis cure by the rector nominee of the late Sir John, was now settled w ith himon a Vicarage of forty pounds a year on the Lincolnshirecoast, living on conger eels and lived upon by the fen-flies.Both, on the first hint of an invitation, hastened eager] to
Marygold Hill ; and it was no small affliction to the pridhofthe arrogantMrs.RichardMartindale, thatMrs. Trottermadeher appearance by the north mail, andMrs. Mac Glashun
and her children by the day coach.
Poor Richard, always kind and well-intentioned, wasonly themore cordial in hismode,
of reception in consideration of theirmode of travelling ; indeed, he was far better
pleased at the idea of having his two sisters-ia-law as his
inmates, now that they were tamed by misfortune, thanduring the heyday of their partiality for captains of hussars,dragoons, lancers, carabineers, fusileers, and fencibles.
Moreover, if the truthmust be told, he was not sorry to havean excuse for occasionally prolonging his day
’s sports, and
taking a bachelor-dinner with the Marriots, Millegans,Martindales, or his new friend, Jack Cleverly, of Poplar
Lod e.
Niw this new friend Jack Cleverly, was perhaps of all
poor Mrs. Richard’s Hertfordshire grievances the mostenormous ; being a huge, large
-limbed, cheery, backslapping individual, with the strength and eke the lungs of
144 an ru es mran consu l t .
an ox, who looked upon the fair and frail sex (like the
mares in his stable and the cows in hismeadow) as u seful
animals, created for the service and delectation of mankind.
Despising the great lady of Harley-street with all his soul,
as too lazy to nurse her own children and too helpless to
drive herself round the farm. like his own stirring hou sewife,he was never to be persuaded into the slightest deferencetowards her nervous headache ; shouting whenever he a t
by her at dinner as if he had been tally-being to the hounds,
and slamming the doors after himwhenever he was stayingin the house, as if he were bull ing the waiters at a
travellers’ inn. He was, indeed, a eful creature in her
eyes and ears ; talking with hismouth full, wiping it on thetable-c loth, breathing like a grampus, and sucking in his
tea fromthe saucerwith the impetus of the famous Americanwhirlpool that swallows up ships of the line. Mary
-Matilda’s
first topic of lamentation (after lists to Mrs. Mae Gla
shun’s moving tale of those Occidente adventures which
had terminated with seeing the unhappy ex-lieutenan t-general hanged higher than Human , on a Mexican gal lows
erected between two cabbage-palm-trocar—and trying to
seeminterested in cor Mrs. Trotter’s description of her
little parsonage-gar en, with its slimy fen-ditches and fetid
exhalations,) was themisfortune of possessing a loud v ulgar
neighbour like Jack Cleverly, who had no greater satisfac
tion than in decaying Martindale away fromhome, brutalizing himwith strong ale, and persuading himthat it was amark ofmanliness to defy the influence of an
“affectionate
domestic partner.
” It was in vain that Mrs. Mac Glashundescribed her sufi
'
erings when left a nursingmother in a
to rrid climate —MawM atilda interrupted her to comflainthat poor little Dick had a chilblain in his little finger,thanks to Martindale
’s obstinas in c hoosing to purchase an
estate in a county notoriously t e coldest in England andwhile Mrs. Trotter was pointing out to her eommiseration,that for three cars she had been living in a fishing-hamlet,without a neig hour within fort miles saving the officers ofexcise and coast blockade an their spirituously
-inc linedconsorts,
—the lady of Marygold Hill begged to assure herthat such a spot was infinite] preferable to a country house,
placed under watch and war of a hudh i d’s vulgar
She appealed to the judgments of both, whether an
could afi'
ord stronger proof of Martindale’s want of
edge of the world, than to sink half his fortune in the
146 mu PLACE IN r u n c oc xr ur .
obnoxious in a cheerful social neighbourhood by sucklingfor precedency as a baronet
’s daughter, to have her two
sisters appear on so ostensible an occasion in dyed silk gowns ,
as a curate’s w ife and adventurer
’s widow ; and yet to know
that they were fiftyfold asmuch liked and admired as herself.
Now in London this never could have happened . Her
Harley-street friends wou ld never have dreamed of pressing
their civilities on a Mrs. Mac Glashan and a Mrs . T rotter,
who had no houses of their own in which to requite the obb
gation ; and even had they been capable of such a waste of
nimity, the general indifference to family connec tions
prevalent in London society, would have prevented an y one
fromknowing, caring, or commenting upon the relationship,
or instituting comparisons between the parties. T hey had
not been established two months at Marygold Hi ll, before
Mar -Mati lda wrote to her favourite sister Anne (the w ife ofthe rish captain, who was now on half-pay, and settled on a
small hereditary estate on the borders of Connemara, ) to describe how very troublesome she found those w ild heathens,the little Mac Glashaus, in her nursery and how muchshe was apprehensive that Harriet and Julia wou ld assume
command of her establishment, and probably give offence
in the family and neighbourhood during her approachingconfinement.Therewas no resisting this sororal appeal ! Mrs . O
’Cal
lagkau certainly Izod intended to pass a happy domesticwinter in the bogs. But she would not allow poor little
Ma -Matilda to be put upon nobody could say whatmightbe t e resu lt of her suffering any annoyance du rin g the
ensuing delicate crisis. So having persuaded Captain O’Cal
laghan to become her escort ; away she went by long sea to
London ; and , fromthe Tower Stairs, straight to those of
Marygold Hill. The heroinewas already in the straw but
her usband (albeit somewhat startled by this third additionto his famil circle) gave thema hearty welcome.
colonial peop e are hospitably inclined and though he c ould
certainly have dispensed with theCaptain’s company , aga inst
whom, during his courtship of Anne Grinderwell he had
conceived an antipath yet still any connection of his dearMar -Matilda was we come. It was still winter. An d is itnot t e
o
customin Great Britain for people to collect asmanyas possible of their friends and relations at Christmas u nderthei r roof l Is not hos itality an almost religious du ty on thepart of the proprietor o a Place in the Country 1
”
rmrnacn i n T HE COUNT RY . 147
CHAPTER VII.
There are a set of joyless fellows who, wanting capacity to make afigure among mankind upon benevolent and generous principles, try tosurmount their insignificance b laying offences in the way of such as
make it their endeavour to are upon the received maxuns and honestarts of life. An urnnor .
h was an awful visitation to the irritable nerves of Mrs.
R ichard Martindale, who, during her annual indispositions,had been accustomed by her kind husband to have things
kept so quiet in the house, that the blind mole heard not afoot-fall—when the little Mac Glashuns, instigated by uncle
O’Callaghan , set up their war
-whoops in the hall ; or when
u ncle 0,0allaghan himself, after a second bottle of Madeira
at luncheon, stumbled along the corridor to the billiard-room,
s inging I amthe boy for bewitching them,
” in a tone that
w ou ld have drowned Jack Cleverley’s loudest view halloo !
Her head-nurse gave her warning, and even the nurserymaid warn
’t going to stay to be made keeper to themtwo
little heathen savages.
” Forced into a premature assumption of strength and authorit the nervous lady exerted
herself to resume her post in the drawing-room -and then
things went worse than ever.
The treacherous Anne had evidently coalesced with Juliaan d Harriet ; and great was the art w ith which all three
prevented their nefarious proceedings fromcoming under
Martindale’s observation, b soothing himw ith their flat
terice and pretended regar It was vain for Mar -Matilda
to hint toMrs. Trotter that her poor husband doubt ess foundhis solitary situation in the fens extremely disagreeable ; orto Captain and Mrs. O
’Callaghan that the weather was
growing delightful for a voyage. They always contrived
148 MY PLACE IN THE COUNTRY .
that the worth Richard should sieze that very opportun ityfor assuring t emthat his house was their own ; that if
Trotter found it dull at Swamperton , he had better jo in hisw ife atMarygold Hl ll and that the state of Irish affa irs was
not such as to justify his Connemara brother-ia law in a pre
cipitate return to his Sabine farm. His w ife cou ld have
found it in her heart to bu rke himfor his officious hospi
tality to her encroaching family.
Nor was it only that their innovations produced real in con
venience and annoyance in the establishment ; bu t the Mar
taindale family, living near enough to have on eye u pon their
proceedings, and enchanted to have an Opportun ity of payingoff to the nabob
’s wife the innumerable slights an d in sults
w ith which she had beset them, took care to let her see theywere fully aware that her hungry swarmof poor relations
had alighted like locusts upon poor Richard’s prope rty, to
devastate and devour. The elder brother Robert had dieda few months before ; expressly for the purpose, M rs . Rich
ards thought, of bequeathing sixty thousand pounds to the
Marriots, and making Clotildamore vu lgar and presamone than ever ; but the remainder of the Martindale clan (rejoiced to find out, and to show the had found out, that the
family of my father Grinderwel w ith which they hadbeen so frequently twitted, was, in fact a tribe of needy beg
gars) constantlywroteher word that they wou ld drop in upon
her and their brother or uncle Richard, when her own
family had quitted her. They would not think of intrudingso long as she had so much good company about her.
”
Wretches ! not one of thembut knew she had as muchchance of getting rid of her sisters, as of that capital mansion known by the name of Marygold Hill.
Ned Warton, too, who had so long refrained fromintercourse with his Cape Town friend, thought proper at this
unlucky juncture to propose themonth’s visit w ith w hich,nine ears before, he had threatened his dear Richard Mar
tindalle ; and the lady, who, at any other period, would haverebelled against themerest hint of such a favour, dared not
provoke the report he would doubtless circulate among their
mutual rice-and-currie ac uaintance in town , that he couldnot be received atMarygoldH l ll because the house was garrisoned w ith the poor relations of poor Dick
’s poor wife. She
would have done better, however, to incur the imputation ;for, after having vainly hinted to the O
’Callaghans the pro
priety of giving up their comfortable room, and perceived
150 xv ru es i ts THE COUNTRY .
her own maid, this is the comfort of having a Place of
one’s own in the CountryIt affords unlucky proof of the evil particles floating in our
naturc, ,that no compacts aremore effective than those found
ed oumalicious calculations, and a common an imosity . Ned
Warton , who, though he wou ld as soon have put to sea in a
sparrow’
s eggshell, as marry w ith Sir John Grinderwell’s
daughter, had never forgiven his chumand cotemporaryRichard for carrying Off a young and lovely w ife ; an d who
entertained a rooted antipathy to the fubsy doll by w homhis
friend Dick had been so often prevented dining w ith h imat
the club, and going half-price to laugh at Munden ,
— no
sooner discovered that the coarse, rampant, rollicking . Captain O
’Callaghan entertained a similar dislike to his cold
hearted sister-in-law , than he entered into a league w ith him,Ofi
'
ensive and defensive, to rescue Richard fromher subjugation, ormake the house too hot to hold her. Dick Marriot,too, the genius of Starling Park, who retained a strong sense
Of his obligations to his uncle, and who consequen tly des
ised the shallow woman by whomhe was despised , -hav
mg taken a chance dinner at Marygold Hill after a hard
day’s hunting,—instinctively joined the unhol alliance, and
even sug sted a newmode Ofmischief to thei r adoptio n .
He un ertook to point out to the notice of Mrs. Cleverlythe frequency Of her dear Jack’s visits to Marygold H ill, asconnected with the charms and ingenuous sprightlin ess of
the widow Mac Glashan leaving it to the well know n sus
ceptibilit Of the lady Of POplar Lodge to favour her friendand neig bourMrs. Martindale, whomshe detected as heartily as friends and
‘
neighbours in a dull country neighbour.
hood are compelled to do for want of better employment,w ith her Opinion Of the conduct of her sister in encouragingthe attentions Of amarriedman -and to renede the jovialJack that the party at his uncle Richard artindale’s couldnot get on without him, and were much hurt by the infra
quency and brevity Of his visits. Jack was not theman toresist such an appeal. A house filled with three amateursof whiskey toddy, and three lively chatty women , presenteda real attraction ; and even Richard Martindale, hrs friend,was no less surprised than delighted to observe how unre
servedly he came among them, and how ready he was for acarousewith thebraw ling O
’Callaghan or his nephew Mar
riot. Old Warton looked on with his cunning eye and
MY PLACE IN THE COUNTRY . 151
puckered face, and saw with delight that a catastrophe was
brewing .
Now Mrs. Richard Martindale, on her inauguration into
the circles Of the neighbourhood, had not been so inattentive
to her own interests as not to secure a partizan ; and the
same incipient ambition which prevented her fromresting on
her pillow till she hadmagnified her own dign ity by the ac
qu isition Of a place in the country, had suggested her choice
Of the County Member to be her kn ight and champion .
There was something in the solemn du ll impracticability Of
the well-looking, well-conducted Mr. Blickling , which for
bade all possibility Of scandal —and it was therefore highlysatisfactory to her feelings to roll into the Hertford ball-roomon the armof this mighty dign itary ; or to hear the Hert
fordshirians fromthe south-western extremity Of the countyinquire at the Hatfield Tuesdays, to whomtheir favourite
member was paying such marked attention .—Mrs. B . like
most county members’ . wives, was toomuch accustomed tosee himbowing, and beauing, and philandering, after the
fashion Of Sir Christopher Hatton w ith Queen E lizabeth, to
take the least note of his proceedings ; and Richard was
gratified to perceive that hi s w ife, her pearls, and ostrich
feathers, were received w ith becoming attention . Nothingcould be further fromgallantry than such a liaison . Blick
ling himself was aman who sometimes spoke,” but never
talked. Deeply imbued w ith a sense of his personal dignityas the representative Of the county, and proprietor Of one Of
its finest estates, he considered loquacity derogation ; and
having made it hismaximthat men often repent Of sayingtoomuch but never of saying too little, was looked upon as
one Of themost sensiblemen either in the House or out Of it.
Thousands of people said “there was no one on whose
Opinion they relied somuch as on that Of the Member forHertfordshire,
” w ithout perceiving that he was never known
to give one, but contented himself w ith bowing gracefullyand assentingly to the expression Of their own .
TO her growing intimacy with this senatorial tumefaction,the recent occurrences in her familv had Opposed some
again, and that the
Blickling Park. she
mpanied, and to takeparty staying in the
house. Satisfied by the profound reverence of the Member’show that she was still as great a favourite as ever, Mrs.
152 u u s e: i n r un c om s r .
Martindale no sooner found herself, by one of the turns of
the shrubbery, alone upon his arm, than she siezed the
0p rtunity to renew all her former declarations of relyingso ely and singularly upon his guidance in the di rection of
her own conduct ; assuring himthat his superior w isdomcould alone extricate her fromamost unpleasant dilemma.
It was impossible to place even Mr. Martindale in her ceah
dence ; for the delicate relation in which the offending par
ties stood towards him, might lead to the most u np leasant
results .
” Mr. Blickling paused, and looked stedfastly and
inqu iringly at his fair companion, bu t said nothing. H e was
verymuch in the habit of saying nothing.
During her recent indisposition ,”
she resumed, the
families of the neighbourhood had been so kind as to show a
great deal of attention to her sisters. Th had been to as
many dinner-parties, asmany Christmas be ls, as if she had
not been confined to her room. Mrs. O’Callaghan had been
kind enough to stay w ith her bu t Jul ia and Harriet had
been constantly out. Probably he had frequentlymet them2”
The Member bowed as to the Treasury Bench, but said
nothin -he was verymuch in the habitof saying nothing.
Al this, she was sorry to admin—sorry for the sa ke of
her own family, sorry for the sake of a respectable family intheneighbourhood,
—hadbeen productive ofmuchmischiefMr. Blickling started and stared. He even spoke ; he
cried Indeed and much as Kean himselfmight haveIn o-cd theword ; and when his friendMrs. Richard Ma rtin
da e proceeded to unfold to himthe agonized a prehen sions
entertained b Mrs John Cleverly of Poplar Lodge, an d her
own terror est an thing unpleasant”
shou ld happenduring her sister
’
s viert at Marygold Hill, he seemed quiteasmuch shocked and alarmed as she cou ld possibl des ire.
But, although she ex ressly asked his advice, and,
in herunwillingness to invo ve Martindale in a quarrel w ith hisfriend Jack, begged to know whether it was not plain ly herduty to get rid of the indiscreet Mrs. Mac Glashan as qu ietlyss
dpossible, the greatman of Blickling Park could no t be
in uced to express a decided opinion. He shook his head,waved his hands, elevated his eyebrows, cleared his vo ice ;and Mary
-Matilda finally quitted the shrubber u nder a
persuasion that her platonic knight had advise her to doexactly what she had driven over to Blickling determined toeffect ; viz. to bringmatters to a crisis by bringing all the
parties concerned publicly together. It had always been a
154 I t! PLACE rN Tu n COUNTRY .
crossed themin an opposite direction . He was too cautious
for words.
Y es -my dear Mr. B lickling,—falteredMary
-Matilda
in an u nder-tone ; you wi ll, I amsure, sympathize withmy feelings, when I acknow ledge I have now more than
ever reason to believe that v illany has been going on under
my roof. The other evening, after dusk, my own maidactually discovered a female in a white dress (it cou ld be no
body but the ill-advised Mrs. Mac Glashun) c landestinely
receiving a letter over the paling of the shrubbery froma
gentleman on horseback, who could be nobody but that
wretch Cleverly l”
Mr. Blickling replied affirmatively by manoeuvrin g his
right leg over his left, and thus altering the balan ce of his
whole attitude.
Several times lately, the house-dogs have been heard tobark at undue hours ; and I have every reason to believe
that the alarmwas given by these faithful creatu res on se
count Of strangers loitering about the premises to favile—this detestable correSpOndence 1
”
Her auditor gravely and silently resumed his original
position .
To-night, however, I amdetermined to be on the alert,and so is poor dear Mrs. Cleverly . They w ill come early.
The guilty parties will not entertain a suspicion that theyare watched ; and my eyes shall never be off their movements throughout the evening. It is a melancholy thingthat the inquity ofmankind shou ld compel one to have te
course to such precautions w ith one’s own sister. B u t Julia
so positive] persists in denying the charge, that, w ithout procuring distract proof, I have no excuse for forbidding that vile
fellow the house, and preserving the honour Ofmy family .
"
Again the primand prudishBlicklin executed his favour
ite evolution ; when , startled b a sud en burst Of lau ghter
at the bookroomw indow, both ooked up, and perceived the
blooming face of the widow Mac Glashun laughing u nder
her gipsey-hat ; while Ned Wharton stood h her side, w ith
a countenance asmalignantly significant as t at Of Vathek’s
Giaour. Mary-Matilda rose with inefl
'
able dignity ; and the
County Member again uncrossed his legs, and was on themin amoment.
Observe,my dearmadam, the corrupt condition ofmodernsociet said he sententiously, as he threw O n the door intothe so oon. Such is the depraved state of t use unfortunate
MY PLACE IN THE COUNTRY . 1 55
people’sminds, that they are putting an evil construction on
the innocent friendship existing between a woman so exemplary as you , aman so unsusceptible Of immora] impressionsasmyself. Ah !madaml—ah Mrs. Richard Martindale
what 1 3 theworld coming to l”The even ing arrived— the even ing passed
— the eyes of
Jack Cleverley’s wife and Mrs. Mac Glashun ’
s sister were
careful] fixed upon the proceedings of the delinquents
but not ing transpired. The little w idow was certainlylooking very handsome, and danced beautifu lly and w ith greatan imation ; but, as Mr. Blickling Observed aside to his fairfriend, If sheflirted at all, itwas clearly quite asmuch withthat eccentric old humouristWarton asw ith the valiant Jack.
The ball passed Off, as announced by the Hertford paper
nextmorning, w ith unexampled eclat.” Most of the county
grandees were absent fromindisposition . Weippert’smusic
was supposed to have gone by the wrong coach, for it never
made its appearance. The Argands wou ld not burn . The
white soup was sour, and the lobster sallad sweet. Still, for
a country-ball, the thing went off tolerably. When a great
number of oung peoplemeet together, and are w illing to beamused, criticismismisplaced and as Captain O
’Callaghan
had afi'
routed the butler by volunteering to concoct the negus,and been consequent] carried up to bed half an hour before
the commencement O the ball, therewas no person present ofwhomMrs. Richards had any particular reason to feel
ashamed.
To say the truth, the old or middle-aged people seemedqu ite as well amused atMarygold Hill as their jun iors. Ned
Warton was growing quite human ized, Richard Martindale
was in the best of spirits, and the Blicklings themselves wereso much gratified by the hospitality of their reception, that
they actually preposed, of their own accord, to pass another
day atMrs. Martindale’s seat. Mary
-Matilda had the satis
faction, after breakfast next morning, of holding another
jeremiad with the Member over the sinfulness of this corrupt
generation , and of whisperin to himthat, notw ithstandingall her vigilance Of the nig t before, her own maid haddetected the lady and gentleman stealing awa together fromthe ball-room. Mr. B lickling shook his head, and was
evident] much hurt that so much tur itude shou ld exist
under t e same roof with himself and is family ; but stillhe said nothing.
Mrs. Richard Martindale dwelt much on this flagrant
156 NY PLACE rN Tun COUNTRY .
instance Of his hypocrisy, when discussing the subject w ithher husband a few days afterwards , in consequence of a dis
graceful discovery which had set Marygold Hill in to con
sternation, and sent little Mrs. Trotter back in disgrace to thefens -besides very nearly driving the CountyMember fromhis seat, both in Herts and the House. Mrs. Trotter’s hadbeen the white dress in the shrubbery ; Mr. Blicklin g
’s the
baymare that stood so qu iet beside the railings of the shrub
bery. But Mrs. Mac Glashun had no leisure to u pbraid
either of her sisters w ith the aspersions thrown on her fair
fame at Jack Cleverley’s expense. Apprehensive of the
coming stormand the demur it might occasion in her Old
beau’s intentions, she was already Off to Hertford in a post
chaise, with Edward Warton , Esq. and a special licen se !“A retty example have we set in the neighbou rhood,
falters poor Mrs. Richard, who was confined to her bed with
genuine indis osition occasioned by this double shock . In
London this isgraceful afi'
air would very soon blow over ;
but I foresee no end to the tittle-tattle it will produce, hap
pening at this season of the year, and at our Place the
Country 1”
158 av PLACE rN Tm: COUNTr‘u .
w ithin reach of the Kedgerees and Calicuts, and all her former dinner-giving friends and acquaintance.
umerous, indeed, are the mortifications which await a
country family arriving, after some years’ absence, in town
for the season . They find themselves out of fashion ,—be
hind the time, -eclipsed,—disparaged,—forgotten by many,
and even deliberately cut by a few . Mrs. Richard, in addi
tion to the discovery that her own wardrobe and that of her
childrenmust be te-modelled, had themortification of d iscov
ering that Lady Kedgeree had already acquired another ho»
somfriend to gossip w ith in her stead ; and that Mrs . Cali
cut was quite as intimate with her successor in the H arleystreet-house, as she had ever been with herself. R ichard,meanwhile, on coming home every day fromhis solic itor's,where he had now three lawsuits in progress connected with
the Marygold Hill estate, (one concerning a flaw in the title;another for having closed up a foot-path, and a third , for an
action for trespass,) no longermade any secret of the supe
rior attraction he discovered in ametropolis so rich in clubs,and so adapted to the habits of a lounger. He was new
approching his sixtieth year ; it was necessary that Master
Grinderwell should go to Eton ; and when the lad is at
school ,”said he, in a desponding tone, what on earth shall I
have to amuseme at Marygold Hill My hunting days are
gone by-that impudent fellow, O
’Callaghan , has thinned
allmy preserves —Imake but a poor hand atfarming —andaltogether, I feel that the country is no place forme. B esides,it requirs an immense fortune to live like a gentleman on
one’s own estate ; and what w ith the five-and-forty thousand
pounds somshly sunk in the purchase, and the ten thousandhave frittered away, hundred by hundred, since Imarried-my circumstances are becoming considerably embarrass
ed. As myp
oor brother’s partner, Latitat, says, u n less ]
can make t e Marygold estate yield somewhat of a moreprofitable return , I may look upon myself as a ruined
man .
’
Noman can press Oil out of a stone, says the Italian
proverb and Richard found to his cost, that it was imposaile to extract a profitable return froma fanc -
place, con sistingof lawn, shrubbery, paddock and woodlea s in their nonage.
H is brother Robert’s successor, however, who had a keen
eye for speculation, had the good luck to discover an excellent stratumof brick earth on the estate and according ly, by
xv PLACR IN THE COUNTRY . 159
the time Mary-Matilda had blushed her last blushes for thedelinquencies of her two sisters and made up hermind toreturn home, she had the satisfaction of finding the onlypicturesque point of the grounds disfigured by kilns and littered by brick straw, and the whole atmosphere, the precious country air
”she had sacrificed so much to secure for
her children , foully impregnated withhydro-sulphuretted gas.
P oorRichard assured her, that the success of his brick-kilncould alone redeemhimfromthe difficulties into which hehad been plunged b his rash purchase of the estate and at
length compromise thematter by undertaking to bu ild hera
splendid new steam-conservatory round the basement story of
the house, capable of removing all the bad effects of the gas.
Mrs. Richard had ample need for this little smoothingd own of her ruffled pride. During her spring in town , the
M arriots had been busy turning their sixty thousand pounds
to accoun t, in makingmagnificent imprbvements, and te-fur
n ishing Starling Park. Thanks to themodels afforded themat Mowbray End, the mansion was completed in the best
taste ; and, as Clotilda admitted to her aunt, while paradingher through every roomin the house fromthe attics to the
housekeeper’s room,
“ they really flattered themselves it wasthe most perfect thing i n that part of the country .
”
M rs. Martindale thought Of the two thousand pounds settledby poor Ri chard on his nephew , to insure hima college
education , and wondered when she shou ld be able to have a
w hitemarble bath in her dressing-room, or lace trimmingsto hermuslin curtains.
W ith her own family, meanwhile, Mrs. Richard hadresigned all intercourse. Sir Joseph Grinderwell affected toresent her negligence as the origin of his sister
’s indis
c retion ; and her younger brothers were eating governmentbread in different parts of the globe -one as a resident inN ewfoundland, one as a consul in Cochin-China. and one
thirty feet below the level of the Thames, as c lerk in a
frog-trap at Somerset House. She had no one to quarrel
w ith, no one tomolest -even the humble Jacob Martindale
treated her with -that frigid deference which forbids allapproach to familiarity ; and Mary
-Matilda, who had beenso lively at Grinderwell House, somerry at Cheltenham, so
happy in Wales, so contented at Bath, so dissipated at
W eymouth, so courted in Harley-street, discovered that in
the country, to which she had restricted the remainder of
her days, she was likely to be dull, dispirited, despised, and
160 1 ! Prison l N TnE COUN TRY.
lonely. It was re little consolation to her to feel that shewas proprietress o a place in the country, now that her
means no longer permitted her to en liven it with en tertain
ments, fill it with company, and assume a leading part in
the neighbourhood. She took it into her head they were
designated all over the county as the Martindal es of the
Brickfield while themoremoral circles probably pointedher out to abhorrence, as amember Of that obliqu itou s familywhich had induced the County Member into backslid ing.
Ah, Richard !”
she exclaimed, when another w inter
was about to set in , and they had not somuch as the O’Cal
laghans at their disposal to assist themin makin g war
against the long evenings and snowymornings, I shaHnever forgive you for havingmademe renounce that comfortable Harley
-street house for this desolate place. T o live
as we did there, forms the utmost limit ofmy desiresestablishment, pleasant dinner arties, winter at B righton,summer at Hastings —the chi dren alwa 8 well, the ser
vants alwa 8 happy-the Kedgerees, t e Calien ta, and
poor dear phor the apothecary within a stone’s throw
It really wasmadness on your part to set your heart upon a
country life. You are not fit for it,my dear, you are reallynot fit for it. —Y ou cannot do w ithout your club ; or your
morning’s lounge w ith Sir Hookah Smith and Sir Brown
Kedgeree. I w ish to Heaven I had been as w e ll arms
when you took this place, as I amnow, of your in eptitude
for rural pleasures ; nothing should have induced me toallow you to bury us for life, in order that you mightgratify the ride of the Martindale family by pu rchasinga
place in t eir native county. There are the poor girls
w 0 w ill soon be wantingmasters, and who w ill be broughtup mere Hottentots (I beg your pardon,
—believe me, Iintended no allusion to your early avocations, ) and turn
out perhaps vul r fine ladies, like your n iece Cloti lda.
”
Or worse, ike your two flirtino sisters,”might have
burst fromthe lips of aman less mildly quiescent than the
patient Richard. He however, contented himself w ith ob
serving, Wellmy love, wemust hope for the best. Your
mother may perhaps take it into her head to leave enough
to enable you tomake a little visit to town every spring ; or
perhaps
A letter by express, Sir, said the footman , lacinga
voluminous despatch in the hands of Mr. Martin e, and
quitting the room.
TEE PAVILION .
has disdained to enliven his pages withits flippancy , or adorn
themw ith its false glitter. Even in their intercou rse w ith
each other, I pray thee do notmock me, fellow student,—is a prayer that falls as naturally fromthe lips of the
modern men of wit and fashion about town, as fromthose
of the Prince of Denmark himself.But it is chiefly in fashionable society that the art o f quiz
zing forms so important an accomplishment ; and a total
want of bonusfoi , such as the practice necessarily produces,
is a characteristic of the great world of London pec u liarlystriking to foreigners. They are amazed to observe that a
fict narrated at some distinguished dinner-table, is received
w ith awonderful allowance for errors excepted tha t LordA listens to his friend Lord B with a smile of po
lite incredulity ; and that, ever on the watch agains t beinguizzed by an ironical compliment or rendered ridicu lous ast e subject of a hoax, the belle of St. James’s receives as an
in'
ury, the same courteous salutations whi ch a belle of the
C aussée d’Antin claims as a right ! It is, now , in short,admitted, that John Brill, our national impersonator, heretofore represented as endowed w ith the moral swallow of a
whale and digestion of an ostrich, —’
as a speaker o f matterof fact, and a bearer of matter of fact, -has become a merestrainer at gnats, -a doctrinaire in creed and cant, -a scan
dal-manger pro-eminently addicted to frivolous and vexations
bantering and backbiting—Under the influence of the smiles
and blandishments of the Exclusives, honest John has even
been betrayed in his dotage into sneering at those who will
not join W ith himin abjuring the simplicity of life and man.
nets which he has recently learned to reprobate as a n evi
dence of national barbarism.
Who or what is this new Prussian ambassadress is
quired Lady Mary Milford of the Honourable F rederick
Fitzgerald, as they stood together in the tea-roomat Al
mack’s at the close of the last ball of the season, waiting forthe announcement of her carriage.
Is it possible that you do not know i—The orig inal ofGoethe’s Charlotte 1 Old Roppenheimfell in love w ith heras she was cutting bread-and-butter for her little brothers andsisters, at some resbytery in Lithuania ; and, instead ofrenouncing the charming simplicity of character which sheconsiders the origin of her promotion, she still sticks a mossrose in her l axen wig—quotes Hermann and Doro thea ;and Clanhenry protests that she actually appeared at Court.
t as PAVILIOK. 107
last winter at Berlin, leading a lamb,mlisiere, with a bluer iband.
”
Nonsense ! There is no believing a word you say. Ihavenot forgotten your rsuadingme thatLady Charlemorew as the authoress of t eWaverly novels. But really this
Countess Reppenheimpromises to be impayable. Sophiatellsme that she went out fishing w ith the king on the Vir
g inia Water, after her audience of reception atWindsor, andi nquired of his Majesty, in a tender whisper, whether he
ever bestowed a tear on thememory of Cette belleRobinson,3 12intéressantepar
'
ses g rdces at par ses oral/tears f”
And by way of illustrating the adage, Ne fas t pointp arlor de corde dans la.maison d’impends ,
”
passed a wholehour to-n ight in torturing our friend, Lad Grasmere, w itha dissertation on the pleasures of a rustic li e ; forgetting thato ur English Viscountess is the daughter of an Irish farmer,reared upon bite
-and-eu and highly accomplished in themanufacture ofEddish 0 eese
Amost unsophicated individual indeed ! Well, well a
s eason in London will scarcely fail to endow her w ith the
r ight use of her eyes, ears, and understanding. I can almostforgive her Mme, however, in the Grasmere affair. How
is it possible for foreigners to be forewarned against the ex
traordinary instances of mésalliance which betray them, in
this country, into the society of parsermes of every description ; actresses, opera dancers, farmer’s daughters,—all sorts
and conditions of women . Far be it fromme to blame thesystemwhich kee 8 our brothers and uncles (the cadets of thefamily) out of bedlamor. the workhouse. But it is not sur
p rising thata person like the Countess Reppenheim, qualifiedb her sixteen quarterings to enterany Chapter of the empire,8 ould find it impossible to give credit to the existence of
s uch degradation .
”
Ay. ay !we’ll teach her to ‘ think deep ere she de
part)
Wemust improve hermorals by familiarrsing her wit the
majesty of themaple, and the equality of the human race.
C’est pour rire .
’ You, who are the greatest aristocrat
u nguillotinedAmI l—Only during the lifetime of m
ylold aunt, the
Duchess of Keswycke, whose acres, thank eaven , are as
loose as her principles are fixed. I intend her tomakemeher heir ; and there is no pleasing the doting widow of a
Duke of twent descents, w ithout pinning a little faith upon
the legends ofDomesday Book. She has fifteen other needy
108 TH] PAVILION .
nephews on the watch for her inheritance ; and I amobligedto putmy best leg forward
To convince her how well it would become the Garter!-Well —wemust get Countess Re peaheimp resented to
her Grace ; to prove to the wife”
of Silesian magnifico,that we really have a peeress or two whose gran dfathers
kept no chandler’s sho and whose prejudices are u
chi valrous and feudal asher own .
”
Such was “ the drolling style” in which one of the
gentlest, purest, and most amiable of human bein gs was'
scussed among the fashionables of themetropolis in which
her lord was appointed to fill the honourable. post of ambassador. Countess Reppenheimwas scared y thirt years of
age ; but the delicacy of her health had invest her withthe tone and aspect of a somewhat more advanced epoch.
She was secured, however, fromthat besettingsin of coquetry
which usually characterizes a foreign fas ionable in the
wane of her charms, b strong attachment to her hu sband,no less than by person indolence and constitutional infirmity. She seemed to have been, or to be on the point ofbecoming a beauty. But something was deficient eithervivacity, or vigour, or intelligence ; or some one among thenameless nothings indis ensable to female fascination . Thewomen called her fade -the men, languid —but all wereof Opinion that she need only exert herself—devote a littlemore care to herd ress, and a little more animation to her
manner, to be as captivating as themost captivating of hersex .
The Countess had, in fact, been reared in a school which.instead of initiating her into the arcana of that hatefulscience called knowledge of the world,
” had involved herin scenes of such stirring and unprecedented anx iety andexcitement as could not fail '
to produce a lasting inj ury toher naturally frail constitution ; as well as td impart to hercharacter a tone of sentiment and romance, fatal to hersuccess on that hollow stage of irony , the supreme bon tonof London. At a very early age the Baroness Helene von
Edelstein was nominated Maid of Honour to the beautifuland unfortunate Lou isa Queen of Prussia ; had w itnessedher bitter trials, her patient resignation, her untimely death.One of the last actions of the royal sufferer had been to
bestow the hand of her favourite on Count Reppenheim;and instead of the origin assigned by the fashionable andsneering Clanhenry for the alliance, it had been the favourite
170 was rae ron .
like funeral processions of departed business, ruralized cer
tain commercial streets b the litter of their hay and straw ;
while in Cumberland-plhce and the Squares , a lu xu riant
crop of after grass was runn ing to seed. The W est End
smelt wooingly” —ofmellow apples, and sounded hollow
as the brazen gates of a giant’s portal in a pantomime .
Themoment was doubtless unpropitious for the advent of
a foreigner ; and right glad was the Countess to tak e refuge
in a damp diplomatic villa on the banks of the Thames, be.queathed to the tenancy of the ambassador by ,
the excellencyhis predecessor.
I rieve to leave you in this dull place, said Lad Beau
lieu, t e po ular wife of the foreign secretary, (who ad be
come slight acquainted with Countess Reppenheimd uringthe Aix laChapeus negociationa) on takingfor the season. I am, however, scarcely in amore enri
able position than yourself ; for Beaulieu and I are
a conciliation pilgrimage to our Irish estates, and I
hOpe of seeing you till wemeet at Bri ten in the w inter.”
Unfortunately it did not occur to La y Beaulieu that the
new ambassadress could require, in the interim, any hints forher guidance in the choice or formation of her soc i ety . She
forgot that, although London is nominally a wilderness during the parliamentary recess, a few stray dandies are alwa s
to he found, who would be brought down to dinner by theattaches and secretaries, to quiz the simplicity of their noble
hostess, and circulate reports of the rusticity of an ambassadress who actually exerted herself to render her house agree
able ; and who exposed herself to stillmorepoignant ridiculeby respectful attention to a husband many years older thanherself. Neitherwas her ladyship aware thata certa in LadyGrasmere, who inhabited a neigbouring villa during the an.
tumn months, had been already presented to the Coun tess ;and would present, in her turn , other persons and personages equally ineligible. Na even had Lady Beau lieu beenforewarned of these impen ing dangers, itmay be doubtedwhether, w ith all her tact and good breeding and good humour, her ladyship
’s own mind was sufficiently schooled in
the philosophy of fashion to enable her to set forth the worstfeatures Of the case.
But had it been possible for the blue-eyed oddess of theGrecian hard to have arrayed herself (insteadOf the vener
able front and solemn tun ic of Nestor) i n the flow in g satinand flowing ringlets of a patroness of Almach’s, she would
u s me tott 1 71
probably havewhispered to the fairPrussian who sat contemplating the weeping
-w illows andaguish lawn ofMapleVilla,in the ersuasion , like Pope Gregory
’s of old, that Britain
is peopled w ith angels, Of all the capitals of Europe Lon
d on is the place where the forms of society are loosest in de
fin ition and strictest in observation . The slightest infraction
o f the arbitary code Of conventional law is fatal to the con
v icted culprits ; and not the most pitifu l little court of cere
monious German is half so scrupulous in the exaction of
i ts etiquettes and the infliction of its penalties. In the beau
monde of May-fair, court any infamy rather than that of ridi
c u le. Instead of the lambent flamewhich, in foreign society,s ports alike innocuous round the head of the lance or the
p oint of the fan , you will find the pernflage of the Englisha scorching and corroding fire, eating into your heart and be
q ueathing‘
an inefi'
aceable scar. Be vile,—be prodigal, -be
false, -but do notmake yourself ridiculous. A butt or bore
ranks w ith the worst of criminals. Believe only half you
hear say only half you think ; do nothin you are asked
and in process Of time you may achieve a to crable degree of
c reditand popularity in fashionable societys”
172 m su n tan .
CHAPTER II.
persons so solicitou ahont the of rank ss
those who have no n nk at sll.
Tan Dowager Viscountess Grasmere, described by the two
maligners of the Almach’s tea roomas an Irish harmer’sdaughter,
” was in fact the offspring of a man of decayed
fortune in a remote part of Connaught ; who, offic iatin g as
bailiff to the late Viscount her husband, had en ded w ith be
coming his father-ia-law. It wou ld be difficult to con ceive
any thingmore dazzling than the beauty which effec ted this
singular transition . Eleanor Cavanagh was ta ll , finelyformed, uniting a countenance of the antique charac ter ,
w ith
a complexion Of that pure poetical paleness which n othingbut fine features can embellish, but which so w ell becomestheir delicate chiselling . She was unquestionably one of
the loveliest women in the kingdom.
Lord Grasmere, ever on the watch against provoki n g the
moors of society, had seduously avoided collision w i th the
London world till a prolonged residence on the con tin ent,and the influence of society at Lausanne, Florence , and
Rome, had tamed down his w ild Irish girl into the soft, feminine, and dignified woman which his w idow at the age of
five-and-twenty was universally pronounced to be. A j ointure Of eight thousand per annumwas perhaps the chief se
comlishment that drew to her feet the homage of hosts of
lord ings, dandylings and needy honourables but it cou ld ou
ly be the charms of hermanners and themerits of her character which attracted the friendship ofsomany distingu ished iadividuals of her own sex . Lad Grasmere was not, how ever,
what in London is termed “ t a fashion .
” When she en
1 74 umrawa xon .
or her appertainments . For three years
previous to the arrival of the Countess she had assumeddistinguished part in London life whichmerit o f any
kind is sure to command fromthe unbribable j of its cote
ries —had refused more offers than half the ciras ses or
beauties of the day—and it was a sole drawback to her
satisfaction that there was still a lofty sect which looked
down w ith contempt upon her excellencies, and persis ted in
waving a flag of triumph over her head.
Such was the woman assigned by chance to Coun tess
Re ahsim, on her arrival in town , as her “g lass of
fas ion andmould of form.
”UnsuSpicious that the extreme
retermof Lady Grasmere’smanners and conduct arose from
the constant fear of committing herself by dereliction fromthe usages of society, the Ambassadress cou ld not con template w ithout admiration themodest graces of the En glish
neighbour who exerted herself so hospitably for her amusement. Accustomed in other countries to find none bu t the
highly born andhighly bred established in the circ les of the
great world, it never occurred to her to suspect raters in at
end adorned with a coronet. To Lady Grasmere, accord
ingly, she addressed herself for information on all doubtful
paints connected withhernew honours or the forms of society;—and nothing could bemore injudicious than her choice of
a Mentor. Altho h fully adequate to maintain her own
station in life, h'
er
u
fidyship both was, and felt herself to be,incompetent to the perplexities of courtly etiquette. But she
did not possess sufficient dignit ofmind and strength of‘character to confess the truth, an admit her own deficienciesof birth and education . Preferrin ountess Reppenheimtothe whole host of her female friends, and aware of themarvellous extent of German prejudices on the chapter of pedi
gree, there was nothing she more apprehended than thatsome of the light, gaudy, but venomous insects fluttering insociety, should buzz into the ear of the ambassadress the
secret of her insignificance ; and it was part in the hope of
forestalling the re rt, that Lady Grasmere, for the first
time, began to a set a certain supercilious fastidiou snessrespectingmen and things, very foreign to the usual amiability of her demeanour.
There is nothing more y ulgar among the sins of soc iallife than what is termedfinery. It is, in fact, a distingu ishing mark of absence of caste ; for what can a person reallydistinguished by birth ormerit gain by presumptuous dispar
r an Pamron . 1 75
agement of the rest of the hunian race ? It is the policy of theeminent to elevate the claims of those beneath them, in order
that by raising the standard of comparison ,their own supe
rioritymay attain yet higher distinction and themoment a
man or woman affects to befine, —to shrink fromcontactw ithany but the elect, and to raise a glass of inqu iry to the un
known physiognomies of plebeian life, it is to be inferred thatsomething is rotten in the state of Denmark that so
studious an arrangement of the folds of the velvetmantle andermined robes purports the concealment of some gash or
blemish beneath, known only to the wearer.
Among the idlers at Lady Grasmere’s villa, and preten
dants to her favour, fromwhom, in the courseof the autumn ,the Countess unconsciously and unfortunately imbibed hernotions of the character of an English gentleman , were M'
r.
Fitzgerald, the satirical hero already introduced to the reader,and a certain “fat,
” dark, and forty” dandy, named Lord
Clanhenry —the former a budding, the latter a full-blownexquisite -the former professing good looks, the latter goodmanners —ths former insinuating himself to be the idol ofthe sex, the latter the Cory ha us of the clubs -the formerthe unresisti victimof c vortex—o reseed with balls,bewildered wit dinner invitations, begu
iiiiad into water-par
ties, tormented into picnics, and on severe duty as a Park
escort and caller of carriages-the latter, still more re
cherche(having escaped the impertinence of similar importunities, and outlived the. ardour of po ularity, ) a veteran of
the war of society—modelled, promote pensioned- a Field
Marshal of the fashion-list of his Majesty’s dandies ! Both
were favoured courtiers at Carlton-house, and reaped in general society the full advantage of that empty distinction.
Themain difference, however, between the two lay deepbeneath the surface. Both were poor, both fortune-hunters ;but the handsome Frederick was a young brother, who hadnever hadwshilling in his lifetand the well-bred Clenhenry,a spendthrifi, who had not a shillin left. Frederick accord
ingly strove to impress on themin of the richly-jointured
dowager that, although courted by the world, he resigned it
all for her while his lordship assumed still higher ground,and insinuated that the fervour ofhis devotion ought to deter
mine her to resign all the world for him. Both were eminently fine Fitzgerald fromthe consciousness of being de
ficient in every thing but a tolerable exterior ; Clanhenry,fromknowing that the dilapidated state of his finances had
1 76 was PAVILION .
betrayed himinto various acts ofmeanness, or what, in anybut aman ofmany clubs and universal acceptance, wou ld be
termed dishonesty. It required a considerable proportion of
that self ssession patricianly denominated know ledge of
the worl and plebeianly termed impudence,” to carrythemin safety through the shallow waters in w hich theywere compelled to navigate.
Now Lord Clanhenry and Fred. Fitzgerald (for although
in some cases youth and good looks impart consideration, itis but just to give precedency to thep
eer), were equally thoughsecretly of Opinion , that it would ave been more fo r their
interest had Lady Grasmere’s new friend continued to ai r her
little Pomeranian lap-dog enter den Linden of Berlin , in
of among the soot elms of Hyde Park. Their tactics weredisconcerted by the straightforward simplicity of her cha
racter. She was in the habit of asking plain questions,which they found it very difficult to answer ; and of g ivinga literal interpretation to their sa ings, such as their doings
were ill calculated to justify. T ere was no know in g how
to dispose of such a woman . Her rank, fortune, u nblemished reputation, and official dignit rendered it imposs ible todecry her in society. The onl ailernativewas to impugn herauthority in the eyes of La y Grasmere, by betra ing her
into breaches of etiquette and violations of Englis n otions
of propriety, and then quizzin her into disrepute. Each,unavowedly. to the other, accor ingly commenced his systemof Operations by insinuating to the idle babblers, thei r companions (the Lady Grandisons and Lady Mary Mi lfords),that the simplicity of the new ambassadress was the simplicity of mere folly, and her credulous good nature the fru it ofmental imbecility. In a ve short time people began to takeadvantage of these impute defects, by addressing her w ith
exaggerated civilities, and filling her mind with ou ndless
notions ofEnglishEccentricity. It is true she be not read
iness of tact to detect the imposture ; but it afforded no evi
dence of foll that, finding herself suddenly introduced in tothe society ei
ye foreign nation , she res coted its usages , how
ever absurd ; and reflected in respectfiii l silence on the pecu
liarities to which she was required to conform, and w hichwere pointed out to her by persons of seeming respectabil ityand real distinction .
1 78 ru n mu t ton .
1 833 ; and poor Madame Reppenheim’s notions of E n glish
comfort” were considerably puzzled b creaking stairs,smoky chimnies, doors that would not c ose, and w in dows
that would not open ; besides a host ofminor defic ien c ies , allof whichweremaliciously ascribed by her evil gen ii , Clan
henry and Fitzgerald, to les habitudes da pays’. U nwill
ing to contemn what appeared so satisfactory to the rest of the
nation, the Countess accordingly pronounced herself to beextremely well lodged ; politely ascribed a severe cold caught
on settling in her comfortable” house to the influence of
the sea air and an attack of opthalmia, proceeding fromhersmoky dressing-room, to the misfortune of hav in g been
accustomed to stoves. Lady Grasmere being unable to visit
Brighton during the first ten days of her stay, she w as morethan ever open to themischievous influence of her two
enemies.
I have received an invitation fromyour relation the
Duchess of Keswycke,”said the Countess to Fitzgerald, a
few days,after her arrival. Her card specifies that it is a
very small early party. What does thatmean tThat you must go at eight o
’clock, in a morn in g cos
tume. Her Grace . is a very old-fashioned personage, and
hates any thing like ostentation .
”
In pursuance of this advice, the ambassadress in an ele
gant demie-toilette (to which a bonnet imparted the dec ided
character of amorni ng dress), made her appearance j u st halfan hour after the guests of the Duchess of Keswy cke, in
their satin gowns and diamond necklaces, were sittin g down
to dinner. Vexed andmortified to find herself so thorou ghlydep lapée, -for by a
.mistake of the servants she was u shered
into the dining-room,
-the Countess noticed that themembersof the small early party arrived at ten o
’clock ; and w hen,
two nights afterwards, she received a formal card fromLadyGrandison to the same effect, she resolved to put in practicethe hints she had received fromLord Clanhenry on the sub
jcet of English dress and English hours. Mistaking reverse
of wrong or right, shemade her appearance on this oc casionbetween ten and eleven o
’clock, radiant w ith jewels and
nothing could exceed the contemptuous surprise w ith whichshe found herself surveyed by the half dozen old women con
gregated rounds solitaryWhist-table, their chairsand carriages
having been alread announced for departure. Sir Can nychael Domdaniel, t e veteran beau of the antiquated c oterie,had the satisfaction of enlarging the followingmorning on
TH! PAVILION.
the tale of the Countess’s ill-timed splendours, at full fiftyhouses in Brighton, wherein he enacted the part of Court
Circular.
I fear I shall never understand your habits l”
cried she
in a desponding tone to Lady Grasmere, on her arrival fromtown . Even your friends Clanhen and Fitzgerald, wella s they are versed in les usages, can gi veme no infallible information. I have alread committed a thousand blunders.
T he Duchess of Keswyc e looks upon me as a Goth, andLady Grandison as a fine lady. Your customs, like the
pronunciation of your language, appear qu ite arbitrary.
”
Never mind such persons as the Duchess and LadyG randison,
”replied her friend in a pacifying tone. The
great charmof Brighton society consists in little friendly
parties, given w ithout formor etiquette. Come with me ton ight to Lady Mary Milford
’s,
-I see you have an invitation .
N othing can bemore sociable or select than her soirées. It
is her rule, both in London and Brighton, never to have large
assemblies ; the conse uence is that every one is always
dying to go to her, an that she commands the best society .
Just now, she has her niece the brilliant Lady Sophia Clerimont staying with her ; and is giving a series of tea parties
by way
of opening her house every night at a reasonable
rate.
’
The best society! quiet, sociable parties—What
cou ld hemore inviting to the ear of a fore: er, desirous of
becoming acquainted w ith the far-famed, —t e intellectual,
the hospitable,—the dign ified coteries of English society ; so
different, so superior to the selfish, frivolous, impure circlesof Paris and Vienna
I amglad after all, that I came to Brighton,” thought theCountess as she arra ed herself to accompany her friend toLady Mar
’s, it w ill serve to in itiate me into the habits of
England, hefore I launch upon the w ider sea of London .
”
The experience of her ownmansion had somewhat amended Countess Reppenheim’s notions of the sort of comfort”to be expected in the lodging
-houses of a bathing place, the
chiefmerit of which seems to consist in a free admission of
the sea breezes —nevertheless, she was somewhat surprisedto observe that ‘the best society in Brighton was about to
assemble in two stuffy draw ing-rooms, having scanty curtainsof yellow cotton and a dingy carpet of green baize. Theonly sofa in the roomwas occupied on her entrance, by a
group of young ladies who, on the appearance of a stranger,
1 80 u mravrnron .
whispered behind their fans ; while several Hussar officers
belonging to the regiment quartered in the town , lounged
over the back of the sofa w ith the most intimate familiarity.At a little distance sat the phaperons three or
'
fou r dull
lookingmiddle-aged women (such as chaperons oug ht to be),saying, seeing, and even hearing nothing. except the mste
rious rumours circu lated by Sir Carmychael D omdamel, apompous little man w ith . a military air, who w ent fromone
to the other whispering courtly nothings under sc reen and
shelter of the enormous n ’
ose that served to impart imp ortanceto his whole person. Apart fromthe rest, lounged one veryimpudent, ver chatty, verymuch rouged dow ag er ; who
gladly pounce upon so patient a listener as Cou ntess Repenheim.
You perceive that we receive you (1 l’ Ang lo/i re, saidLady Mary to her new guest, pointi ng
to the tea-tab le ; andsoon afterwards, on the arrival of a ew superci l iou s younggentlemen in stiff cravats, headed by Fitzgerald “
an d Clanhen ry, the operation of tea-making commenced.
Now then,”thought poor Madame de Reppenheim,
“I
shall at last participate in this national feast. Gen eral con.
versation w ill enliven the ceremony —and the co lloquialsuperiority I have so often heard described, w ill ren dermeinsensible to the mingled odours of ill-trimmed lamps andan ill-dressed dinner.
”
But no l—there was no atter
plpt at general convermtion.
The three young ladies whisper on three chairs in stead ofone sofa. The stiff necked dandies exchangedmonosyllableswith the taciturn chaperons ; Domdan iel talked bro ad withthe impudent dowager ; Lord Clanhenr sentimen talizedw ith Lady Grasmere ; and Mr. Fitzgeral w ith herself ; asilver u rn was brought in ; and, to her great
-su rprise, two
full-grown footmen were admitted into the drawin g-roomtoassist the butler in his operations. It was in vain that thehandsome Frederick exerted himself for her amu sement;she cou ld not withdraw her eyes fromthe ceremony of
t iming tea-cups, and dispensing the boiling beverage that
filled the roomwith steam.
“Nothing so pleasant, nothing so sociable as a tea-tableexclaimed Fred . Fitz . ; watching w ith delight the aston ish.
ment depicted on her face. It is no longer the fashion toserve it ready made. In justice to ourselves, w e cannot
allow our servants to engross the enjoyments of mak ing our
182 Tax ravru ntt.
Is it true,” in u ired she of Lady Grasmere as soon as
roac
c
lt her, and striving to appear as littleible,
“ that Lady Sophia Clerimon t is one of
themost in town ?
Oh, yes 1 was her friend’s reply ; She is a charming
creature ; full of w it and animation .
”She did not think it
necessary to explain that this wit and animation consisted in
themost flippant efi'
rontery ; that her gpopularity w ith the
hussars and dandies arose fromher ssession of a fortune
of ten thousand a year ; and with the dies (her rival in lo
quacity the well-rouged dowager included) fromthe dread
of beingmade the subject of her caricature or pasqu inades.There was only one point, meanwhile among the many
t hiel
hexcited her surprise in this
-her inauguration in to thesoci lo” parties of Brighton , on which the Coun tess
tured to express her wonderment to her friend.
“I thought,”said she to Lad Grasmere, as they went
out airing together in the snow t e followingmorning ,“ that
all these people were passing the winter at Brighton exo
pressly tomeet the Prince Regent2”And so they are.
”
Im ssible -your friendMr. Fitzgerald announced last
night t at his Royal H ighness was expected in a day ortwo, and every one instantly exclaimed that the leasure ofthe Bri hton season was over -that the Pavi ion spoiledevery thi ng else 1
”
“And so it does.
Comment dam:In the first place by complew changing the charm.
tern,
of half one’s acquaintances. Persons who are onlymen and women at resent, will be converted into mere
courtiers themoment the Regent arrives.
”
nl such butterflies as Fitzgerald, surely !And
.
then it breaks up all private parties. No one likesto send out cards with the chance of having their best peole commanded away at the lastminute. The soc iety herea not extensive enough to admit of sparing ‘
fifiy or sixtypersons once or twice a week.
”
True! but those whomI heard finding fault w ith the
amnion, are precisely the people who formpart of the set
ere.
’
Otherwise they would not have ventured to abuse itYou heard what Lady Edystone said about themu sad ericnf the Prince’s soirées
i
rnx PAV ILION . 183
That chattering old dowager —I didShou ld you have suspected fromher tone and manner
that it has been the object of her life for the last thirty yearsto be in favour with his Royal Highness 2
”
Y ou jestWhen he was young, shemade love to him; when he
grew older, she made hate,—striving to render herself im»portant in his eyes by espousing an adverse political-and now thathe is no longer either an Adonis or ll. lug,
she effects to engage his attention par rémin ismcc, by beingon excellent terms with all the people he likes best, and byfollowing ap
‘
i ll his plans of amusement as if they were herown .
How unaccountable -Had you but heard the impertinence in which she indulged respecting the Carlton House
set Did on but know the insinuations she threw out
against the avilion partyOf course -u-B those very circumstances you might
haveguessed that s e moved in no other ; and that the per
sons she was slandering were her bosomfriends.If she talked so of her intimate associates, what will
she not say of an unfortunate stranger, likemyself?”Nothing —unless you should happen to get into fa
and interfere with her own projects. E land is a
lplace
w here people are made to pay d ear for lstinction 0 anydescription .
”
You alarmme ! —u id the poor Countess, sinking intoa corner of the carriage.
'
After all. then , it appears
in nuousness and cordiality aremerely Utopian virtues.
er all, the English—the frank Engli sh—are wing as
bellow and interestedand artificial as the rest of t e world l”
Let its hope there are exceptions,”said Lady Grasmere
blushing deeply. I should be sorry to distrust all myfriends, or attribute unworthy views to even all myacquaintances. Lady Mary Milford is a charming person.
”
I hope so —But it strikes me that there is somethingoverstrained in her politeness
—something jesuitical in herexcess of humilit and deprecation . Before you have halfdone speaking, s e answers you with a smile and a bowand whenever she catches your eyes froma distance,makesa sort of telegraphic signal of sympath and intelligence. I
observed her do it last night to every in succession,
Y ou see deer Lady Grasmere, how soon {ambecoming in
184 'rnn rav rmox .
footed w ith your national errors. You have already taught
me t the satirist.”
exercise your genius in the first instan ce on myfriend Lady Mary. Believe me you quite mistake hercharacter. The softness of her manner arises so le ly fromthe excessive gentleness and phi lanthrophy of her d isp osition;and, admitting to her house only those persons fo r w homshe has the highest regard, nothing can bemore n atu ra l thanthat she shou ld favour themw ith tokens of interest. ”
I dare say I amwrong,”
said Madamde Repp enheim,vexed w ith herself for having spoken harshly of the friend of
her fi'iend Besides she was the on ly one of the party who
did not join in inveighing against the Pavilion ; but franklyadmitting to me that nothing could exc eed the charmof the
royal c ircle.
”
Did she ? -replied Lady Grasmere, thou g htfully.
That is indeed incomprehensible. I have always hea rd her
assert such very different opinions ! Lady Mary is so indo
lent that shehates representation of any kind. She l ikes tow rap herself in an old gown and shawl, and sit gossip ing in
some odd corner with the Sir Carmychael Domdan iel a
maniére d’étn which does not b anymeans recommend herto the favou r of the Regent. lielikes to see people in their
best looks, spirits, and costume ; and, for some reason or
other (one of those caprices to which you will grow accus
tomed after a season or two in London), has not invited LadyMary or her charming niece these two years.
”
Her praise, then , was at least disinterested.
”
I fear not. Theremust be something on foot of w hichIamat present ignorant observed Lady Grasmere, fallinginto a reverie which lasted during the remainder of theirdrive. She did not think it necessary to degrade herself inthe es-imation of her friend, b admitting that she herselfhad never yet been inc luded in is Royal Highness
’s in vita
tions ; and that one of her chief inducements to visit B righ
ton , was the ho
cpe that her extreme intimacy with the
Prussian ambassa ress, Lady Edystone, and others particu
larly distinguished b his notice, wou ld assist her in theaccomplishmentof an onour themore eagerly covetted fromthe precarious chance of its attainment. The pamvme Viscountess saw others equally disqualified by birth, and far lessrecommended by nature, achieve the object of her ambition ;and could conceive no motive, unless her deficiency of
political interest, her want of a brother, father, husband,
186 mmravrmorr.
CHAPTER IV.
A courtier is to has found onl about princes. Hes knowes nomanthat is not generally khowna. ee puts more confidence in his worththan hismeaning, and more in his pronunciation than his word s. Hes
follows nothing but inconstancee ; admires nothing but beautie ; honoursnothin but fortune. The sustenance of his discourse is names . He ir
not, if e bee out of court ; and, fishltke, breathes destruction w hen out
ofhis own element.SmT . Ovau uar .
h was about a week after this conversation, just as Conntess Reppenheimwas beginning to forman opinion that
aglish bathing-places are by nomeans so amusing as les
w as , and that the society of Brighton was pretty nearly on
a par w ith a fifth-rate provincial town in Germany , that asudden fermentation became a parent throughout the town.
Fromthe plebeian groups on t e Steyne to the patric ian one
of Lady Mary Milford’s draw ing
-room, every body assumedan air of fussy importance. The hussars jangled their spurs,Lady Sophia waved her ringlets, and the Brighton Chron icleannounced with a tone of sentiment becoming the occasion,The Prince Regent is oncemore amongst us, and this
little town is itself again . His Royal Highness alighted at
the Pavilion yesterda evening at about twentyminutes pastsix ; having accomplished the journey in five hou rs and
seventeenminutes. We noticed w ith regret that ou r august
patron looked somewhat thinner than when he qu itted u s last
Easter. He wore a light brown w ig, inclining a shade
nearer to auburn than usual ; which perhaps contribu ted to
the change of his appearance. All is now activity at B righton .—Thismorning w ill be devoted by the nobility and gen
try, and visitors, to leaving their in uiries at the Pai i lion .
A select party will have the honour 0 dining with his Royal
tra it rae roN. 187
H ighness this da and invitations are already issued for a
grand ball to celehrate the annual festival of Twelfth Night.The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester are expected in a dayor two .
"
Such was the tenor of the bulletin announcing the event
that produced so wonderful a sensation -Withthe exceptionof the issue of invitations for a Twelfth Night ball, a
tho’
u ght”to which the w ishes of the good people of Brighton
w ere both father”andmother) the whole was correct ; and
w hereas the two preceding winters had been overcast bydomestic calamities in the royal family, by the deaths of thero al mother and daughter of the Regent, it seemed determined that the present shou ld shine w ith redoubled splen
dour. Lady Grasmere’s nets were alread spread she had
paid her court in this quarter, and strengt ened an intimacyin the other ; had given three dinners d In cordon bleu to a
gouty old Earl who was supposed to possess pecu liar influence at the Pavilion ; and made a sacrifice of a favourite
edition of the Florence galler to a lad of fashion, who wassupposed to dictate the predi ections ot
ya lady of rank, who
was believed to actuate those of, the Delhai Lama. All was
in excellent train ; and having hinted in a general way to
Countess Heppenheimthat, in consequence of her long resi
dence abroad and the unfortunate domestic circumstances ofthe Prince Regent since her return to England, she had not
yet been personallymade known to him, except in a general
w ay at the drawing-room, she waited the event in patient
persuasion of being included in the invitations to the up.
proaching Rte.
Nothing could be more roblematical than the state of
society among the higher clitsses at the period in question.
For some time it had been difficult to determine which heldthe greater influence over the circles of the aristocracy z—thon ominal court of Queen Charlotte, or the virtual court of the
Regent ; while the dawning rospects of theheiress apparent
opened new vistas for the ca culations of courtiership. But
now all doubt on the subject was over. The good old Queenwas nomore —Claremont, by one of themost cruel bereavements that ever frustrated the h0pes of a nation, was closed ;-and there was nothing left but Carlton House and the
Pavilion to invite the intrigues of the courtly-minded. The
Regent had already held hisfirst independentdrawing-room;
where Lady Grasmere, among a host of other beauties, was
for the first time presented to his notice. But what availed
188 run “ e 1 03 .
the drawing-room? Unless distinguished by invitation
either to the fate: of the season or the private c ircle of the
Pavilion , she felt that the one great step of her elevation was
still unachieved and that jointure, jewels, beauty , popularity,all were insufficient for her happiness.
The weakness of the sex is rendered the scapegoat of so
many follies, that it would be easy to ascribe this so le infir
mity of a virtuous mind to feminine vanity, and the over
weening influence of fashion . But n ine times—n ay ,
times and three-quarters in ten, every darling folly of w omankind may be traced to the artifices of the w iser o rmorecraftymoiety of the human race. It Lord Clan henry
’s
pleasure, or rather he wished tomake it his profit, that theovel widow should find herself wanting in the onl y point
enab ing himto afford her support. During the six monthswhich had elapsed since the amount of his Christmas bills (acollection of antiqu ities of singularly ancient date) had madeit apparent to himthat he must either marry or starve,”
either possess himself of an heiress or follow his frien d Brutmell to Calais,—he had never ceased throwing ou t ins inuaotions in Lady Grasmere’s presence that a Viscou n tess byitselfViscountess, was a very paltry thing ; that the narrow
sphere of a secondary woman of fashion wasinfin itely less
distinguished than sturdy plebeianism; that in Eng land, asin all civilized countries since the reign of Louis le G rand,societywas composed of two circles, the court and the nation,-personages and persons,
—entities and non-entities ; and
that in s ite of her charming house, excellent establ ishment,and lovel person , she would bemore enviable as w ife to aneminent haberdasher, than as a Peeress unnoticed by the
Prince Regent.
Women in possession of every thing to gratif their reas
onable desires, are apt to sigh for straws ; an poor LadyGrasmere actuall began to fancy herself a sli hted and un
happy woman ut hermorbid sensibility le her to a verydifferent conclusion fromthat anticipated by Clan henry.
Instead of resolving to give her hand to theman whose favourwith the Regent would lead her triumphantly into the centre
of the royal circle (devoting her fortune to a spendthrift andher erson to a libertine) , she preferred the safer c ouse of
attac ting herself to the train of halfa dozen old women , suchas Lady Edystone, and relying on the bosomfriendship ofCountess Reppenheim. But Clanhenry was not to be so
defeated. He had already succeeded in spreading a thousand
1 90 was rae roN.
Royal Highness’s notice, follow up his how of rec eption by
some friendly inquiry .
”
I could never venture on so extravagant a piec e of pre
sumption cried the cou rtieress of the Spree, in utter amazement.
Nevertheless, unless you conformto the Prince ’s notions
you w ill find yourself always on the black list. T he first
time he approaches,make some inquiry about his h ealth (heis fond of being condoled with about his health) ; and
wounded as he has been in his domestic affections , nothingdelights his Ro al Highness so much as all u sion s to thefelicity of wedde life. It is a favourite topic .
And away wentMr. Fitzgerald, to enjoy froma s ly post of
observation the amusing spectacle caused'
by his mystifiation Aman less practiced or less hold in the art of quiz
zing, would have been almost alarmed at the air o f amazementwithwhich themost gracious, butmost dign ified Princein Europe, sudden] found himself singled ou t an d inter
togated by the timi Prussian ambassadress. The theme so
pprversely selected was matter of only secondary s u rprise.
is Royal Highness wasmore astonished at her E xcellen
cy’s abrupt advances than his high
-breeding rmitted himto evince ; or than his powers of self
-comman cou ld whollydis ise.
The slightest cloud, the most trifling gesture of 000aon the countenance of any illustrious personage is sure to
be perceived by one or other of the small deer” ev er on the
watch to browze on some tiny leaf of royal favou r, and proportionately curious respectin the sweet or bitter herbage
cropped by the rest of the herWhat a woman that Countess Reppenheimis wn
ed Lord Meerschaum, (who had achieved some little d istinction
‘
at the Pavilion by his fastidious cu osity in tobaccowho was said to freight an annual ship to the Havan nah, and
keep a resident agent at Maryland She is actu a lly boring his Royal Hig
hness about his health, who has an natipathy to that sort 0 thing.
”
How ill-judged of Reppenheimto bring his w ife downto Brighton, said Theodosius Bogg, aman of cons iderablebackstairs influence, in the habit of follow ing abou t the court
fromplace to place as a fetcher and carrier of nothings ; atrustworthy envoy betweenmy Lord Privy
this and M r. Sec
rotary that. Hemust perceive that s e is a t mas cara
" 0l
ran PAVILION . 1 91
Ma n in a certain quarter, and consequently ameremillstonetied round his neck.
”
How I shou ld hate to be that Prussian ambassadresscried thewife of amin ister high in the royal favour, to LordBrancepeth, one of the most distingu ished members of the
coterie of Carlton House.
Every thing she has done and said since her arrival has
mange-é ! Handsome Fitzgerald calls her, the Bergen Citat
elat’
ne and she really boasts amost storal simplicity .
”
Reppenheimcertainly mistook er vocation when he
made her a grande dame,” said Lord Clanhenry carelessly.
Made her a grande dame cried Lord Brancepeth, dis
gusted by the party spirit he saw exercised against a love]
and interesting woman,merely because she chanced to sai l
in the North”of royal opinion . Surely you are aware
that the Countess is issued of oneo f the noblest houses in
Germany,- that she was a favouritemaid of honour to the
late Queen of Prussia, —that her father married one of the
Saxe Hildburghausen family, -andHer mother may have been Field Marshal Suwarrow
w ithout improving her capacity for diplomatic representa
tion,”said Clanhenr vexed to find aman of Brance th’s
high standing in society upholding the claims of one i t was
his pleasure to depreciate. I say again, as I said before,tin t she has no vocation for courts or courtiershi
Of late years, so little has been known in England of
courts or courtiership,” observed Lord Brancepeth drily,
that perhaps the less we set ourselves u as arbiters on
su ch points the better. Countess Reppen eim’s manners
possessthe highest digni
—the dignity of simlicity. She
18 not perhaps quite su cientl
yon her guar against the
ho llowness of the world ; but al she loses in this respect, as
a woman a fashion, she gains in the regard and veneration
of those w omshe honours w ith her friendshi
Including of course Lord Brancepetb andthe order of
the Rational! sneered Clanhenry.
No,”replied he
i
r amiable partizan , I amnot, at present,so fortunate. I have hitherto stood on terms of distant
acquaintance with Countess Reppenheim. But hencefor
ward I shall take particular pains to cultivate the intimacyof one who doubtless boasts peculiar merits and accomplishments, since she has drawn upon herself, during less than
half a year’s residence in this country, somuch envy and so
muchmisrepresentation .
”
I
1 92 ms. ravru on'
.
In a few minutes after this strong declaration in her
favour, Lord Brancepeth was seated in earnest conversation
by the side of one on the point of being rebutted as a. Paris
fromthe high caste by which she was surrounded enj oyingthe ratification so powerful with a generous mind , of
affording rotection to an injured and unofl'
ending person.
Now 0 all the persOns assembled in those rad iant apart
ments, his was the sufl'
rage Clanhenry was least w illing to
concede to the object of his animosity. Lord B rancepeth
was precisely the sort of person against whomthe arrows
of ridicule are launched in vain . Straightforward, plain,manly, resolute, he was unassuming in his dress, equ ipage,and demeanour ; and w ithout any fastidious afl
'
ec tation of
refinement, was so perfectly gentleman ly in mind and
manners, that hemight have appeared in a coat of. the Cheltenhamcut on a cabriolet of the Bath build, w itho ut the
slightest fear of passing for any thing but what he reallywas—a first rate man of fashion. Leaving it to boys or
p areenus to attract notice by the variety of their carriages orthe finicality of their costume, he felt that his
,own place
in society was definite ; that it fulfilled all his ambition, andcould be forfeited only by a base or unworthy action . Supported by this first great
(principle, he had been on the turf
without a squabble or a uel ; was a whist player to a con
siderable extent at the fashionable clubs, w ithout risking his
fortune, his honour, or his temper ; and a first favo urite withthe Prince Regent, without having courted the royal smilesby adulation, or turned themto account by solicitation . The
favourites were not jealous of him, the public did not mistrust him, even the public journals, whether min isterial orOpposition , did not abuse him. Lord Brancepeth w as, infact, an n right and honourable man ; and was estimatedaccordingi
’
y.
Hemight have been as apri ht as he pleased howeveras honourable, and even as big ly esteemed, —for any thinthat Lord Clanhenry cared ; had it not been for the generalOpinion that he was a pretendant to the favour of LadyGrasmere, and for his lordship’s articu lar Opinion that the
pretension was not regarded by t e lady as either saucy or
overbold. Clanhenry was well aware that his own su it hadlittle to Ofl
'
er in competition w ith such rivalship ; thatwhether in respect to character, rank, fortune, person , orta lents, his own endowments were immeasurably belowthose of Lord Brancepeth ; and his only hopewas to prevent
5“ ru n PAVILION.
CHAPTER V.
Courts are toomuch for such weak h its asmine,Charge themwithHeaven
’sartillery, bold Divine
Fromsuch alone the cat rebukes endure,
Whose satire ’s sacre and whose rage secure.
’Tismine to wash a few light stains ; but theirs
To deluge sin, and drown a court in tears.
Donna’s Sa r rnss.
Twnnvr. years ago Brighton did not form, as n ow , a re
mote but splendid parish of themetropolis ; whither, duringsuccessive ortions of the year, the eastern and w estern ex
tremities 0 London transport themselves, with their charac
teristic customs and fashions ; but a small gossiping bathingplace, where, according to the Pythagorean recept, Echo
was sedulously worshipped. Not a cathedra town in the
realmwasmore addicted to les cancamOfmorning v isiting ;
or to those little scandals which are nursed up like lapdogs
among elderl ladies and gentlemen who have more leisurethan w it or discretion .
Instead Of afi'
ording, as at the presentmoment, an extensive
circle of the best society wholly independent Of the pa lace, it
presented, during the w inter months, a knot of people of
fashion, waiting patiently like a crowd of boys on occasion
of some public rejoicing, to huzza for every squ ib that ex
lodes, and ready to throw up their caps at every effortmade¥0r their amusement. If it happened that his Royal H igh
ness was detained in town longer than usual, they felt agrieved ; and complained of the du lness of Brighton as if
ey were there only to do himhonour. If, on his arrival.it suited his health or convenience to limit the gaieties of
the Pavilion to his own immediate circle, theymurmu red yetmore loudly. The Prince Regent was regarded as respon
rm: PAVILION . 105
Bible for all that went amiss in the town to the discomfitureof its visitors ; and was rendered accountable to themin histu rn , for every piece of new furniture, every Chinese lantern ,or enamelminiature, hung up in his private dwelling
-house.
The gorgeous apartments so hospitably thrown Open , weresubjected to criticisms, public and private, such as wou ld not
have been ventured upon themansion of any other individuali n the kingdom; and Brighton , indebted to his royal patron
age for the very breath of its existence, was always the firSt
to note and bru it abroad those triv ial occurrences of domesticl ife which cannot be recorded without offence to the actors Of
the drama.
At that period, however,
(In our hot youth, when George the Third wasKing)
the place boasted in itself, and exhibited in its habitual visitorsa character of originality, such as an increased popu lationtends to dimin ish. In a crowd of any kind, there is no roomfor the development Of oddity ; and men and women, likehorses, are apt to be subdued amongmu ltitudes Of their own
s pecies. The Brighton of 1 833 only too closely resemblesthe London of 1 832 ; but the Brighton Of 1820, resembledrather the Bath of 1800. There were, at that period, ambl ing along the Steyne, no fewer than three professed imitatorso f its royal patron
-three Prince Regents, in coat, w ig,b lack stock, and cane —who sneezed whenever it was tu
moured thathis Royal H ighness had a cold,— and kept their
beds whenever Sir Henry Halford visited the Pavilion .
There was the weazened beau , whomWarren’s milk of
roses, aided by a well-furred roquelaire and cachemerewaist
c oat, enabled despite his threescore years and fifteen to con
front the Christmas breezes Of the Marine Parade ; and who
still, among friends and sotto voce, ventured to qualify his
royal pupil, as“that w ild young dog .
”—Therewas the vet
eran bel esp rit who, looking upon Sheridan and Jekyll asmodern w its, had no great Opin ion of them; but persisted infilling Lad Sophia Clerimont
’s albumw ith stanzas a la
Chesterfiel andmaccaron ics in the style of Bishop Marley.
There was the'
lofty Dowager in hermoral farthingale Ofbuckram; who, even in her peccadilloes, had erred w ith
such an air of propriety and high-breeding, that nobody had
a word Of scandal to breathe against her. There was the
worthy-minded dowager Lady Edystone, who openl pro
fessed her faith in the Pavilion , as a sanctuary hal owing
196 fl u: u vrmort.
fi ery Object within its sphere. There were two or three
bilious old K. C. B .s, w ith Sir Carmychael Domdan iel at
the head o f the'
squadron ; who, being occasionally in vited
to fill a corner of the dinner table at the Pavilion , comman dedthe respect and admiration of the town, by giving it to be
understood that theywere secretly employed as chiefmachinists of its sooner and decorations. There was the w ife of
the favourite.Bis Op, expanding and expanding like the frogin the fable, till her friends trembled for her safety -there
was the wife of the favourite physician, whispering abou t her
little anecdotes of the royal saloon , and comprehendin g her
self and its illustriousmaster in the we” which gave force
to her narrative -there were fifty other tiresome w omenwho retained the privilege Ofmaking themselves d isagreeable throughout every gradation Of Brighton society , in con
sideration of the circumstance that they were occa sion allyshone upon by a ray fromthe royal countenance, or because
the shaking mandarins, their husbands, were blest w ith theinvaluable privilege of the royal button
It was, in fact, an act of heroismto hazard a rainy or snowyseason in themidst of such a set Of empt and incorrig ibleidlers ; the business of whose lives consi sted in discu ssingthings which did not concern them, and personages w homthey did not concern . In point of scandal and gossiping it
was worse than the worst state Of the City Of the Avon ;where a succession Of amusements served to divert public
attention fromprivate grievances ; while not a single glass ofwine was drunk by the Prince Regent, not an airing taken
b one Of his guests, not a ride in themanege, not a tu rn on
e lawn , but a palaver was held by the elders of the tribesof the East Clifi
‘
and the West, to decide upon the elig ibilityof the proceeding ? The Court did not, however, su ffice tooccupy the energ
i es thus vehemently excited ; and the wholesociety of the p ace was successively subjected to theo rdeal ,by way of keepin in the hand of the inquisitors.
Among these, t e mansion Of LadyMary Milford was at
once a sanctuary and a temple of adoration . The mencrowded thither to do homage to the heiress, the women to
manufacture scandals with the aunt ; and as Lady Sophia,in addition to her bare shoulders and golden tresses, possessedamean and crafty spirit, her policy had sug ested the adoption of Lady Grasmere as an ally, in the read Of her attractions as a rival . The coquette cou ld notmake up hermod to spare to the beautifu l widow even so poor a con
18 r ue ravrt rort.
that I might have prevented your disappointment. I had
engagements thismorning to sing w ith the Trills, besidemyusual lounge at Lady Grandison
’s ; and instead Of fulfilling
either, I have been riding in the school.”
With his Royal Highness 2With his Royal Highness.
”
Then you can tell us the true state of this mysteriousbusiness. What does he intend to dowith her
'
f
With whomI”Countess Reppenheim -Lady Edystone assures u s she
made such bold advances last night, that no one know s what
to think of it.”
Has the thing got wind already 2 said Fitzgeraldwalking to the fire-place, and leisurely arranging his collar
at theglass.
How much his Royal Highness must have been dis
gusted said Lady Sophia in a tone of interrogation .
I reall cannot advance an O inion ; I have never g ivenit aminu te 8 concern ,” said P re continuig his labou rs of
the toilet, and affecting diplomaticmysteI should think she would notbe invite
l
dyagsin ! Observed
Lady Mary. 9
I cannot forman idea.
”
Probably she w ill go back to London ?Certainly, if her stay at Brighton is atan and .
What a bore for the Count ‘
2
He does not seemaman to be easily bored.
But the have always set themselves up for a domesticfelicity cou lo sneered Lady Edystone.
Have t ey l” -Observed Fitzgerald, determined to know
nothing concerning any body . Who are they 2—1 really
know nothing about them. Roppenheimis Prussian ambassador or some such thing, is he not l—The asked me to
dinner four or five times just before I came own here ; butI never went.
”
Y et you seemed intimately ac aintedwith theCountess,when youmetherhere the other night withLady Grasmere,”cried Lad
ySophia, in a tone of pique. Y ou were sitting
by her he f the evening.
"
Was I l—It is quite a chance where one is seated inlarge parties.
”
“But it was a very small party, said Lad “Ma indimtly, you know I never have large partihs ;l
yaud fi
fe
r un ravrmort. 199
p lace was of your own selection . The Regent not beingthen arrived, you were not quite so superfine and inaccessi~
b le as you are justnow .
”
Me fine —what an accusation said the dandy , colour
in g slightly at her vehemence. Believeme,my dear LadyM ary , there is nothing I enjoy somuch as your little coteries ;a nd as to this iece of Pavilion scandal, I know no more ofi t than yourse f. What are you all talking about l—Is hisR oyal H ighness supposed to have a foiblessefor the fair Rep~
p enheim2”Exactly the reverse. Y ou know very well that she is
his béte no’
t‘
re and all we want to learn is the motive Of
Lord Brancepeth’s sudden declaration in her favour.
Lord Brancepeth'
l—E ncorc do nouvcrw —I neverheardtheir namesmentioned together.
Y ou w ill get nothing out of him, cried Lady Edystone
peevishly. Half an hour’s trot in the royalmaneg e has
made himso very great aman, that there is no talking to himthis morning.
”
At least, pray tell us, said Lady Sophia, are the iavi.
ntiona out yet for the ball 1”
Not that .I t n aware of.
But there is to be a ball 2
SO the newspapers assert.”
But did you hear nothing Of it at the Pavilion
Not that I recollect. Why should there be a ball l—Itonly produces a mob Of Brighton people, just such as one
meets at the Duchess of Keswyoke’s or Lady Grandison
’s ;
whereas, so long as his Royal Highness restricts himself tohis private circle, he can have exactly whomhe pleases, andformthemost perfect societ in the world.
”
This Observation ,—whichwas intended as a little punishment to Lady Mary for her attack upon himself, by renderingboth aunt and niece painfully conscious of their own insignificance, was studiously echoed by Lady Edystone as one ofthe elect ; as well as by the du ll Old dormouse Sir Carmychael Domdaniel, whose military rank had Obtained hima
favourable reception at half the courts in Europe, while his
tqflms inan ity excluded himfromthe more independent
01 es of unfashionable life.
If themost perfect society in the world affords no better
amusement to Lord Brancepeth and the rest of you than to
flirt with such a quiz as poor Countess Reppenheim, I wish
youjoy of the pleasure you find at the Pavilion criedLady
‘2200 ms n vru ort .
Sophia w ith indignation. a“Ah !m dearLady Grasmere,”she continued, afl
'
ecting to catch a g impse of the new visitor
who had entered the roomduring her speech, “pray excuse
me if you find me abusing your friend. But rea lly all
B righton has found somuch to say respecting her barefaced
flirtation w ith Lord Brancepeth, that I scarcely con s ider it
necessary to apologize for adding m voice to themaj ority.
”
I shall really begin to fancymyae f the keeper ofCo un tess
Re penheim’s conscience,”said Lady Grasmere, retu rn ing
LadyMary’s salutation , as she seated herself hurriedly in the
c ircle. Lord Clanhenry stoppedmy carriage ju st n ow on
the Parade, to insinuate that she had beenmaking lov e to theRegent ; and to declare, without circumlocution, that LordBrancepeth ismaking love to her. I fancy both repo rts are
equally authentic .
She make advances to the Prince Regent ! snortedDomdaniel in his corner.
Brancepeth make advances to her reiterated LadyMary, who had long destined himfor her niece.
He certainly paid her great attention last n ight,”
saidFitzgerald, w ith affected carelessness.
“When he p u t herinto the carriage, I really never w itnessed a more patheticfarewell and in the face of a whole brigade of royal footmen,who probably wished his lordship at the bottomOf the West
Cliff, for keeping themstanding at the door of thevestibu le, tohoe the night air.
It is very strange, exclaimed Lad Grasmere, growingmore andmore uneasy,
“ thatmy frien the Countess shou ldbe the only woman in Brighton whomit is unlawfu l to handto her carriage ! Sir Carmychael —Mr. Fi tzgerald—praydeign to informme whether you put evil constructions u n
the conduct of every woman who accepts your own servi ces
on similar occasions !Giveme an Opportunity of
proving the fact,
”whispered
Frederick, approaching her, an assuming a loverlike tone,
so as to be heard only by herself. And yet, you wellknow that I should venture to put no construction on any
proceeding of yours but such as your own w ill mightinstigate.
”
But, notwithstanding the crouchin
202 ran ramrort.
tain of the Exclusives by whomshe was tacitly excluded,that their idol, the distingu ished Lord Brancepeth, was to
be found in her train ; that he, the favourite Of the Regent
and darling of the coteries, was not too proud to call her car
riage, or carry her shaw l. Her ladship’s van itymu st, how
ever, have been enormous, if the feelings of eager delight
w ith which she saw himenter her Opera box, or fou n d himturn his horse
’s head to join her in the park—or if the accel
erated pulsation of her heart when Brancepeth, in the course
of a formal visit, was tempted to bestow some w armer expression Of admiration on the embroidery or the d rawingw ith which he found her occupied—arose sole fromso con
temptible a source. That it cou ld be love whi ch cau sed her
emotion under such circumstances was Of course ou t of the
guestion . In the first place, because Lady Grasmere hadormally renounced all allegiance to thatmost capric ious of
divin ities ; and, in the second, because Brancepeth was an
Adon is, nearly fifteen year her senior and Lady G rasmere,who had begun life at so early an age, fancied even herself,at six or seven and twenty, considerably advanced in years!
She had, however, no leisure for consideration O f the busi
ness. All her thoughts for somemonths past, had been ab
sorbed by the one great object, of obtaining admission to the
royal circle ; and to this even Lord Brancepeth w as of sec
ondary importance.
But notw ithstanding this engrossing projectof self-aggrandizement, it certainly had occurred to her, during the three
weeks of her residence at Brighton , that even the moderatemeasure of his lordship
’s attentions was strangely diminish
ed. A lthough habitually admitted as a morn ing v i sitor at
her hou se in London , he had been satisfied to leave a formalcard at her door, without even attempting to profit by the privilege ; he had met her at several soi'rées at the D u chess of
Keswycke’s, and two or three of Lady Mary Milford
’s soci
able tea-cookings, and contented himself owith a g rac ious
salutation , without attempting to approach her. She had
sometimes flattered herself in town, that he preferred hersober style Of conversation to the flashy flippancy of the sati
rical Lady Sophia Clerimont, and the coarse double a stendre
of Lady Edystone ; that a friendly and confidential ease of
intercourse was established between them,
‘
as a recable to
himas to herself. But itWas plain that she hadoverratedher influence for he now bestowed his attentions on bothor rather on any one and every one rather than herself.
'rnx rav i n ou . 203
Now the fair widow who, like all persons whosemindsare dominated by a ruling prejudice, was apt to ascribe everylittle slight she experienced to the inferiority of her birth,actually lowered her estimation of Lord Brancepeth
’s cha
racter sufficiently to believe that, although in the w ide wil
derness of London he had no objection to waste a few hours
of the season on a young and handsome woman w ith a goodestablishment, and tolerable acceptance in soc iety, was not
anxious to compromise his own dign ity by displaying at
B righton any thing approaching to intimacy w ith an indivi
dual living without the pale of fashionable legitimacy.
Having observed thatmany silly persons of her acquaintancewere no sooner admitted tomove in that peculiar s here, thanthey ceased to remember even the existence of a planet uninc luded in the one great system, —she ventured to believe thatthe noble-minded Brance eth despised her for her inferiorityto the higher thrones
‘
ah dominions of exclusive life -The
mere supposition , indeed, tended to magnify her desire forthe notice of royalty farmore than the sneers of young Fitz
gerald, or the solemn iron of Lord Clanhenry.
But on the suggestion 0 Lady Sophia Clerimont, a suddenlight broke in upon hermind Brancepeth had more thanonce avowed in her hearing, his admiration of the femininedelicacy and simplicity of the new ambassadress and Coun
tess Roppenheimunhesitatingly cited Lord Brancepeth as
the most agreeable and most high bredman she had met inEngland. But neither of themhad expressedmore than ad
miration . How shou ld they—It was not to her they wou ld
make an avowal of a less lawfu l sentiment —itwas not to a
woman of blameless life andmanners, such as herself, that a
confession of illicit passion was likely to be confided. Shewas now , however, enlightened
—Her friend had doubtless
formed an attachment to the sedate Brancepeth : which was
not only returned, but had been the means Of w ithdraw inghis attentions fromherself. Perhaps it was a hope of imroving her intimacy w ith the Object of her tenderness, whichhad originally suggested the preference testified for her ao
ciety by the Countess I—Jealousy is a hasty traveller, and
jumps at all conclusions ! In a moment Lady Grasmereoverstepped all boundaries of common sense, and succeeded
in persuading herself that she was doubly a dupe—that
Countess Re penheim’s assumed virtues, and Lord Brance
peth’s preten edmoderation of character, were equally frauds
I, practised upon her credulity, and calling for exposure and
204 ms rs vrmoat.
Contempt. And although, in Lady Milford’s draw ing-room,
under the inqu isition of themalignant Lady Sophia, the scandalous Lady Edystone, and that very universal circulatingmediumDomdaniel the diner-outandmorning visitor, shewascareful to let no symptomof her irritation escape, her heart
waxed hot within her at the notion that those very Pavihon
parties to which Brancepeth affected indifference and the
Countess aversion , had been made the means of cementingtheir connection secure fromher own observation . Itwas
but the day preceding that Helene had been protestingher
extreme disinclination to join that evening’s circle ; and had
even hinted to the Count her wish to put forth a pretext ofia
disposition as an apology for her absence.-Hypocrite!
Lady Grasmere cou ld not pardon herself for hav ing been
imposed upon by such shallow artifices Helene, who pre
tended such attachment for her husband—such fo ndness for
her children ,-ske to prove Haggard
—and w ith the blush
ofmodesty still pure upon her cheek—the tears of sensibility
still glittering in her eyes.—Hypocrite—hypocrite —hypo
crite l—There appeared nothing so unprecedented or unaco
countable in the existence of an adulterous passion , to a person
so experienced in the scandals or w ickedness of societyas
Lady Grasmere, but that she readily gave ear to the imputation . But, alas ! amid all this virtuous indignatio n , all this
mental excitement, all this disgust against both the sin and
the sinner, a second discovery, still more appalling than the
first, suddenly burst upon her ,mind -she was ce rtainly in
love w ith Lord Brancepeth herself, or she would not have
cared half somuch about thematter !
ans THE u vrnron .
momenthave lent an ear to those who affected to consult his
own health and i nclination in persuading himthat a ball w as
superfluous. The court was cautious. however. aga inst
letting the result of these nefarious counsels transpire ; and
day after day rumours grew stronger of an approachingissue of inv itations. Velvet dresses continued to arrive fromtown , and white satin to glisten in the hands of themantuamakters, w ithout the slightest suspicion that all their splen
dours would be wasted on the desert air.
B ut Lady Grasmere was no longer one of the specu lators
on this important subj ect. The beautiful costume she had
rocured fromParis W i th a v iew to themomentous event, waslaid aside and forgotten in Its packing case. She scarcelyrecollected that such a superfluit as a diamond necklace
existed in the world —cared nothi ng for the notice of K ingor Kaiser —and, if the notion of the illuminated halls of
the Pavilion ever en tered hermind, it was with a shudder of
disgust at the remembrance that it was there her enemies hadlotted againsther peace.
Resolved as she was, that neither the Countess nor the
Countess’s lover shou ld detect her profound mortification at
the discovery of their baseness, she was cautious that no
abrupt rupture with her former friend should induce inquiry,expostulation , or explanation ; and accordingly determinedto break off the connection as gradually and unconcernedlyas possible. With Lord Brancepeth, indeed, she mustassume a totally d i fferent line of conduct for whereas since
her observation of his coldness towards herself, she had
treated himw ith increasing distance and reserve, she now
determined to mask the true state of her feeli ngs under anassumption of gay ind i fference -to accost himmorefamiliarly -to defy himw ith all the reckless daring of
deSpatr.
Meanwhile a train of circumstances was arrayed against
her, over which, independent as she was, Lady Grasmerehad no control . At the verymoment she was forming thesedesperate resolutions, the Countess, her beloved friend—hertreacherous enemy—was giving audience in her dressingroomto Lady Beaulieu who , hav ing arrived fromtown to
pass the remainder of the holidays at the Pavilion , was
struck w ith surprise and regret to learn in a mysteriouswhisper fromSir Carmychael, that her old acquaintance theCountess was so little in favour w ith the ru ling powers, orthew ruling powers.
THE PAVILION. 207
I cannotmake it out,” replied'
she, w ith her usual frank
g oodnature.
“Countess Reppenheimis a charming woman,a nd can have done nothing that ought to give offence.
”
Sir Carmychael Domdan iel was of course ready with thelesson that had been taught him; and immedi ately pron ounced, under the shadow of his intrusive probosc1s, that
'
she was considered a sad bore.
“By whom inquired the straightforward LadyBeaulieu .
By every bodyEvery body is less than nobody. Besides, my dear Sir
Carmychael, were every body who is pronounced a bore tobe sneered out of society, which of us would be safe
A laugh immediately went round ; but Domdaniel hadn ot the slightest suspicion at whose expence.
“She intrudes
herself so oficiously upon his Royal Highness,”
said he,“ that it is quite disgusting. She deserves to be sent to
Coventry.
”And he twisted his nosewith a gigantic expres
sion of contempt.But,my dear Sir Carmychael, supposing all the persons
were to be sent to Coven try who intrude themselves ofli
c iously into the society of the Prince Regent, think what an
increase of population that far-famed city wou ld have to
thank us for l”
A in a laugh went round, and again the little K.C.B.
won ered what couldmake themall somerry.
And then she flirts so desperately with Lord Brance
peth,”
said he, impatient of anymerriment which did not
arise fromone of his own stale puns.
Does she ? ” cried Lady Beaulieu , to whomhis Lordship was nearly related, and who had experienced consider
able alarmlest he should degrade himself and his family byan alliance with the rotwriérc Lady Grasmere. That isthe best thing I have heard of her yet Imust go instantlyand thank her for her patronage ofmy cousin of Brancepeth,and, w ithout waiting to ascertain what further inuendoes
were going on under the gnomon of the indignant Sir Car
mychael, she flew to the residence of the ambassadress, andreceived a cordial welcome.
I amso glad you are come at last -I havemissed youver much,” said the Countess. Either Brighton is verydu l —or
You have been lookin all this time at the reverse of
the tapestry. I hear sad histories about you . I amtold
see was ru ru osr.
that yen live with a set ofmaple such as never were
heard of.”
Who can have told you so
Authority too high to be either quoted or impugn ed.
High as itmay be, I have a right to take up my own
defence.
Hush, hush, hush ! Can you in the first place denythat you have divers times made
dyour appearan ce at the
Pavilion soirées, looking very han some, and, w ith maliceaforethought, striving tomake yourself very agreeable
On the contrary, Mr. Fitzgerald assured me on lv last
ui ht that I did not strive half enough. And yet when !fol owed his injunctions
Frederick Fitzgerald then is the traitor — in terruptedLady Beaulieu. My cross examination has been verysoon successful ! Rests dm’
oio' what cou ld be his motivefor so malicious a piece of advice. In the next p lace,mydear Countess, you are further accused of the high a imandmisdemeanour of a liason with Lad Grasmere .
There, indeed, I plead guilty ; Wi thout admitting the
libel imlied in your arraignment. I cannot perceive thecriminality of a friendship with one of themost amiablewomen at Brighton.
”
“ In the world, if you will ! But she is not one of u ,
and therefore does you a serious injury.
”
Not one of whom,—of what l—Surely Lord Grasmereaman of the highest rank and distinction .
”
Of the highest tu ition (which in England you w ill finda far more lofty
'
stinction), till he chose to marry hisbailifl
’s daughter.
Impossible friend Lady Grasmere is accomplished, graceful, well in ormed
Very likely—When a woman’s education is completed
by her husban instead of her parents and the pastors and
masters acting under their authority, I suppose, for the nov
lety’s sake, he takes care to do justice to his pupil. A» ru le,
this Lady Grasmere has donewonders in society, and gets on
vastly well in her own humdrumway. But she does not
even aspire to measure lances with those of the true faith.
We know nothing about her, and w ish to know nothing ;and consequentlyy
oumust know nothing, if you are anxious
to be one of us.
’
I amanxious, it is true, to be on better terms in a certain
quarter, for I fear it vexes Reppenheimto observe how very
$10 rm: rav in es .
Men go every where. It does notcommit the» .
ButBrancepeth goes no where somuch as tomy friendLady Grasmere’s.”
On your account of course. Quite right. W e all un
demand that sort d thing .
”
What sort of thing -My'
dear Lady Beaulieu , pray ex
plain yourself. You are so enigmatical this morn in g that
you have puzzledme to death !”Well, do not disturb yourself furthef but come to the
Pavilion to night with a determination to give up this pernicious friend.
At least I shall not ofl'
end you by the sight of ou r inti
macy. Lady Grasmere has resided so long abroad , that at
resent she has not the honour to be particu larly kn own to
is Royal Highness and
Yes, yes, es ! I amperfectly aware of all that ; and
the time w ill shortly come when you will understand it too,
or my pains will be verymuch thrown away
. A u remr,
chore Contesse do not for etmy injunctions.
’
Meanwhile, Fitzgeraldfaving ascertained thatLord Clanhenry was engaged to pass themorning at the Pav ilio n for acouncil of costume touching certain changes to be made inthe uniformof the household troops , of which models hadbeen sent down fromtown, and in which Clanhenry , as a
dressed man of twenty ears experience, was supposed
a,
cog noscmte,—resolve to. profit by the occasion to ad
dress his homage to Lady Grasmere. Having shaken cd'
the importunate armof Sir Carmychael Domdan iel , who
was apt to adhere like a barnacle to every goodl ship sail
ing to or fromthe port of the Pavilion. hemadehis appear
ance in her ladyship’s drawing-roomwith an air very d id
'
ar
ent fromthe tone of courtly apathy he had assumed to daz
zle the eyes of Lady Sophia Clerimont. He was now the
handsome Fred. Fitzgerald -eveillé , anecdotic -almost aseneilleand anecdotic as when labouring to att the n otice
of his royal patron by piquant narratives of elmwas, or
was not going on in society,—his mimicries of Domdan iel’s
mysterious whispers, and prolix manifestos ; his details of a
new and wonderful remedy for the gout! or description of“amare, themost erfect thing of the kind in Englan d , 83
actlg/calcu lated forIhis Royal Highness’s weight.” Perceiv‘
ing that Lady Grasmere was miserably out of spirits, he
judged the occasion favourable to a display of his entertainingwere, and a manifestation of his desire to devote themfore to her service.
't u ravi n es . 2 1 1
But all was unavailing. In defiance of his best stories,told in his bestmanner, -in defi nce of his admirable styleof quizz ing Lad Mary and Lady Sophia, -his sneers at
her friend LadyEdystone, his Mathews-like imitation of hisown friend Lord Clanhenry
’s obese efforts at being gracefol,
which, as he observed, resembled the frisky play of a walrus,-the fair Viscountess could not, wou ld not, might not be
amused—He abused all her intimates ; hinted that the
whole fair group of Milfordian gigglers were paying their
addresses to him; andmore than hinted that hewas desirousof paying his to herself.
It would have formed an amusing study for Newton or
Leslie, or any other of the delineators of the lights and
shadows of courtly beauty, to see the fine figure of LadyGrasmere thrown listlessly into her high
-backed chair ; for
once careless of effect, and through that very carelessness
producing fifty timesmore effect than usual. Her exqu isitelymodelled hand, entangled in the luxuriant tresses of herhair ; her large lustrous hazel eyes fixed vacantly on the
carpet ; her Grecian lips, compresséd with the consciousness
of injury ; while near her sat the grimacing dandy, labouring to throw all Lovelace into his countenance, all Grammontinto his persiflog e, all St. Preux into his eloquence
—now
affecting fashionable cynicism—now the laissez-aller self
possession of a man of the world —now the air péaétré
the tenderest of lovers. No Savo ard’
s monkey ever went
through a greater variety of attitu es and evolutions l—Butthe more he prated, the more evident became Lady Grasmere’s pre-occupation of mind. Themore he laughed at
his own hon-mots the graver grew her silence.
Confound the woman thought the despairing wooer.“Will nothing provoke her to smile—nothing excite her
attention —1 must pique her, then , or she will go to sleepbeforem face.
”
By t e way, I amso glad,” he now observed in a tone
of amiable candour,“ that our poor friend the Countess is
likely at last to creep out of the shades To be sure itmustbemiserably provoking to a woman entitled to play a certain
part in society, to find herself distanced solely by her own
manque d ’usage. An ambassadress.—a woman really, Iamtold, d
’assez bonus maison ! and yet, managing to fall
back into the mediocracy by themere weight of her own
want of tact.' However, Brancepeth has now taken her by
the hand, and no doubt she will do very well. At present,
819 was ru mor.
ou know, Countess Reppenheimis not at all known inondon : fortunately she has not had an opportun ity of committing herself there , and she willmake her debu t, a fter all,under the happiest auspices.
”
Q“Of course replied Lady Grasmere, somewhat roused
by the name of her ofl'
ending friend. I understan d LadyBeau lieu is arrived ; and it is her vocation to do the honours
to the ladies of the corps dip lomatique.
"
Lad Beaulieu l—Lady Beaulieu has her own afl'
airs to
manage —No, no ! I alluded to Brancepeth. B rancepethstands very well in a certain uarter, and will n o doubt doaway the impression produced y the Countess
’s home] air
and breaches of commence. Nothing is so importan t or :
M avellc debarqmic as to have some friendly gui de to show
her a little of the terrcin . It is a distinct art tomove well in
a certain circle an art only to be acquired by experience.
”
This was intended as a side-wind illustration of h is own
value and importance to his fair friend. But, alas she re
plied only by a peevish exclamation : “ It is an art the se
complishment of which is dearly paid for by the forfe iture ofone
’s reputation and self-respect.
”
To be su re,”
rsisted the Honourable Frederick , rolling the corner of is cambric handkerchief into the formofan c limactic ; reputation, and all that sort of thing , is veryp od as far as it goes. But ‘ I
’d rather be a dog and hey themoon , or even In as: honoré Madame PEoéquc’r toddl ingdle and bay an Argand lamp, than enrol myself at once
in the deadly brigade of the humdrums. Now o u r
Countess was born and educated ahumdrum; andmi re am,
even Brancepeth (who is a devilish good fellow in his way)approaches to the humdrumatic style. One never heard ofhis doing or saying anythin out of the common way .
”
The very criterion of is excellence cried the Viscountess, piqued out of her self-possession . Lord B rance
peth does, says, and thinks exact] as he ought ; an d conse
quently never renders himself a theme for the discu ssion ofsociety or the scandal of the newspapers.
”
Content to dwell in decencies for ever,”
quoted the dandywith a sneer.
The happiest and safest of all earthly tabernacles er
claimed La y Grasmere, her naturally pale cheek flushingwith a sudden
aIglow . Aman who can aflhrd to restrict
his otted path of life, without any consciousness
2 14 was PAVILION .
stands so high with our illustrious friend—eh l F itzgerald 2
”
Really, Sir Carmychael, Imust request on to
I have long perceived,”
resumed Domaniel, w hollyihsensible to the withering look of contempt launched against
himby the handsome dandy, thatBrancepeth had an attach
ment ; but I acknowledge it did not strikeme that so veryunpopular a person as Countess Rep nheim—a w oman so
universally pronounced to be so very ecided a bore—w as
He sat confounded ; for the Countess having entered
unannounced during his tirade, now stood opposite to him,waiting its conclusion .
Sir Carmychael consoled himself, as with a hasty how he
shuffled out of the room, with a hOpe that her E xcellencywas not sufficiently well furnished with his illustriou s friendthe Prince Regent
’s English, to be fully conscious of the
extent of his own insolence.
'rnr: u vru on . 2 15
CHAPTER VlL
Joy to you, Mariana love her, Angelo ;I have confessed her, and I know her virtue.
So, bring us to our palace!Mu ss“ roa Man on .
Cn nrs'rsu s was past and over -the first week of the new
year nearly expired -the Steynehalf a footdeep in snow,
the Duchess of Keswycke shut up w ith the lumbago or (asher no hew reverently defined it) some hackney coach
man ’s isorder ;”
there was no hunting for the hussars
there were no balls for the slender young ladies-no new
novels at the circulating libraries —no business doing, -no
pleasure going on —and people began to find out that a
country town , although boasting a royal Pavilion among itsdwelling houses, can be as dull as the rest of the world
during a foggy frost in themonth of January. TheBrighton
newspapers, meanwhile attributed this general depression to
themelancholy fact that his Royal Highness, their illustriousv isitor, was suffering froma severe cold —8ir CarmychaelDomdaniel secretly ascribed it to the arrival of Lady Beaulieu, by whomhis honourable office of butt to the Royal
circle was rendered somewhat laborious -Lady Edystonedeclared—but her declarations are such as few people ventureto repeat
—and Lady Grasmere, (poor Lady Grasmerealthough she declared nothing, was not the less of opinionthat she was indebted for all her hmdaches and heartaches tothe astounding discovery of Lord Brancepeth
’s passion for
her friend the Countess .
Byron has informed us that the heart ofman has its idesand epochs of sensibility ; that March has in hares, and
2 16 ran ravmrost.
Maymust have its heroine. But if therebe amonth peculi.arly consecrated to the tender perplexities of the femaleheart, it is decidedly that of January . Every thing is so
cheerless,—ao cold,—so desolate -there is so little commanication between house and house, man and man , or manand woman -no rides, no drives, no lounging v isits, no
sunshine, no flowers, no any thing to distract the atten tion ofthe fair afflicted fromher own emotions. Seated in a well
scorched dress by the fire-side, a book in her hand , but her
0 s engaged in bu ilding castles among the glow in g coals.s 0 reviews the past, and speculates concerning the fu tu re
talks o'er again antecedent conversations,—reca lls to mind
every look,.—to heart every sigh —accuses herself o f harsh
ness, of want of candour, of blindness to her ow n happi
ness -then, sauntering to the window and casting a w istful
gaze upon the slopp state of the avement or the slipperycondition of the toe s, retreats backagain to her chimneycorner w ith themournful certainty that it is “
a nau ghty dayto swimin,
”and that she has no chance of the v isit she
would give scimuch to secure.
Never had Lady Grasmere taken somuch occa sion as
now to complain of the climate, and si h for a change of
weather !a—never had she derived so litt e solace fromthose
favourite pursuits of reading, working, paintingwhich, in London or at Richmond, caused her time to passso lightly. She began to fancy she wanted to be at homeagain ; and, but for the dread of provokin the qu i zz ingmLad Sophia Clerimont and themalice of t e Domdan ielites,would have cut short her visit to Brighton,making a reso
lute efi'
ort to get rid of her vexations, and commen ce a new
career of happiness and activity.
But if the firstmonth of the year be unpropitious to ladies
in love, whatmay it not be said to be to gentlemen in debt!—How despondingly do they contemplate the unsatisfactoryface of nature, —with all the blue noses,
-red eyes,—an¢l
muddy boots haunting its surface —human beings lookingtheir ugliest, and even the brute creation , rough, shaggy.and forlorn —Amisty steamobscures the shop w indowsthe water~
pi es enveloped in w isps of straw and the hall
doors sprink ed with sand, impart a vulgar air even to the
dwellings of the lordly ; -people elbow their wa alongthe streets to keep their blood fromstagnation —t e mostcourteous greetings are hastily and sharply bestowed —tbocarriages roll past with the inmates as carefully secluded
218 r un rs vmort.
the glow of feminine jealousy beaming in her restless eyes
and transparent complexion, at the insinuations he was
enabled to append to his edition (if the state o f affairs
between her excellency of Prussia, and Brancep eth the
defender of the faithful. He almost lammted the superfluous
trouble he had taken previous to quitting London , to insi
nuate to his lordship that he was himself about to visit
Brighton, less w ith any view of paying his cou rt at the
Pavilion, than in compliance with the eager request of poordear Lady Grasmere that he would meet her there , an d act
as her cavalier of the season ; a statement which, althoughit strongly provoked Lord Brancepeth to throw himo u t of
the club window at which they were standing, he felt that
he had no right to resent. The ignomin ;r of the case rested
with the Viscountess herself ; who, for the sake of a l ittle
fashion—a collateral link with the unapproachabla sphere of
Exclusives—was induced to degrade herself by bestow ingher smiles on a libertine of broken fortunes, approachi ng her
w ith the undisguised intention of repairing themat her
expense. Lord Brancepeth listened, less with indign ationthan disgust, to Clanhenry
’s allusions to the even ing s he
was in the habit of ssing té‘
tc-d-tétc with Lady Grasmere,and the -billets witlt
n
which she was daily, hourly , half
hourly in the habit of favouring him.
Such were the misrepresentations which cau sed that
sudden alteration in his sen timents and demeanour, detectedby her ladyship on her arrival at Brighton ; and the coolness, with which her own quick sense of dignity ind uced
her to mark the consciousness of the fact, only confirmedhimin his belief of her attachment, or entanglemen t, or
engagement w ith Clanhen ry . Never, indeed, till that persuasion took possession of hismind, had he been fully aw are
of the admiration w ith which her beauty, her graces , andher feminine virtues had inspired him. His season for
romance had long been over : at the sober age of two-andforty, love and honeysuckles, and gigg ling young ladies,lose their attraction . He knew that his ost of hon ou r wasnot in a private station . He had cifici duties entailed on
himby a high appointment in the household of the Regent,which, for some ears to come,must render hima den izenof the Court. is anxiety , therefore, in the selection of aw ife, was less directed to secure a pretty little doll to sit inhis draw ing-room, embroidering work-bags, or mu rderingHerz’s sonatas for his amusement, after the fashionable
r un rav in a it. 2 19
pattern of domestic 1ife, -than to find a woman Worthy toadorn his rank in the e es of the world, as well as in his
own -qualified to wal hand in hand with himin the
saloons of royalty ; to articipate with himin an endless
round of festivity and issipation , without any other objectthere than his approval ; and to encounter the perilous ordeal
of public admiration , without risk or hazard to her honour
or his own.
On his first intimacy with Lady Grasmere, even beforehis eye was captivated and his powers of reasoning affectedby her exqu isite beauty, he hailed her as eminently qualifiedto fulfil his u tmost exactions. He saw that she was graceful
and highly accomplished. Fromal l that he knew or could
learn -'respecting her, he believed her to be as highly prin
c ipled as she was mild and endearing. She was rich, and
therefore above being swayed by interested motives, shouldshe deign to honour himwith her hand ; and that she woulddeign, he gazed and gazed upon her beautiful face, fine
figure, and radiant smiles, till he flattered himself into believing. The Viscoun tess had herself announced her intention
of passing the winter atBrighton ; and he had already formedhis own of devoting himself there to her society, and tendering his hand, and coronet, and Brancepeth Court, to her
acceptance. He felt that an over jealous susceptibility hadonly too long prolonged his celibacy, and wou ld soon convert
h iminto an old bachelor. He had hitherto cherished, w ith
the tenacious egotismof his sex , an apprehension that his
rank and fortune might exert a stronger influence than his
personalmerits, in aid of his courtship. But all these fears
anxieties and misgivings w ere irrelevant in the case of a
lovely Viscountess, in the independent possession of eight
thousand"
a year
Suchwere the auspicious rospects blighted by the cunningof Clanhenry, and the ma cc of Fitzgerald ; and such the
motives which induced the former to watch with triumphantsatisfaction , on themsu ing evening at the Pavilion , the ia
c reased and increasing intimacy between Brancepeth and
Countess Heppenheim. He saw that all was safe ; that the
Angelo of the Regent’s Court (disappointed in his matri
monial projects on the wealthy widow) was fast falling into asnare of a very different description ; and not even LadyBeaulieu observed with greater satisfaction the flushed cheeks
and sparkling eyes of the guilty pair, as they sat apart on the
silken divan encircling the saloon.
220 'rnn run n er .
Very little, indeed, did he suSpec‘. that the con versation,
exciting so many surmises, had commenced, on the part of
the Countess, w ith a confession of indisposition , ari s ing fromher surprise at the coldness, strangeness, inconsisten cy , with
which her visit had been received by Lady Grasmere . For
eigners do not cherish that excessive delicacy o n mattersconnected w ith the heart, which distinguishes the more re
served nature of our countrymen . They talk of Love and
Friendship, as they would of the fine firts, and disc u ss even
their lovers and friends, as they wou ld a favou rite au thor or
actress. MadamRoppenheimhad no hesitation in ac k now
ledging herself to be soufmnte, -accablée,—désolé e,— bythe unaccountable caprice suddenly displayed towards her bya person so gentle, so considerate, and so w arm-hearted asher dear Lady GrasmereNothing could be more natural than for the still partial
Brancepeth to ascribe this unsatisfactory change of character
to the influence of her ladyship’s acce ted lover, the w o rldly
minded Clan henry ; nothingmore ind’
ispensable thafi for theCountess to vindicate the outraged fame of her friend , by anassertation of Lady Grasmere’s personal detestation of the
obese dandy,—her abhorrence of his principles,
-her con
tempt of his pretensions.
I fear you aremistaken , replied his lordship . I have
good authority for know ing that Clanhenry is in immediate
correSpondence w ith your . friend and thathe has v isited her
on the most familiar footing at Maplewood tb r some timest.
”
We have scarcely been apart for the last four months,cried the Countess, warming in defence of lp r dear LadyGrasmere ; and it has often given me concern to observethe annoyance caused her by Lord Clanhenry
’s importun ities.
Nothing but the dread of his satirical w it, and the influ encehe exercises in the great world, has prevented her fromforbidding himthe house. To be made the subject of one ofLord Clanhenry
’s caricatures or lampoons, amounts, it ap
pears, to banishment fromsociety.
”
Had not Lady Grasmere originally e xperienced somedegree of predilection for those fashionable accomplishments
Lord Brancepeth began : but the Countess would not
mfl'
er himto proceed.
No, no, no !”she exclaimed. Believe me, Eleanor
has better taste. Nothing does she so unexceptionably revile,as the hollowness, persiflage, mockery, practised by such
222 an: ru ru on .
derived fromactual observation shehad been present at that
memorable interview when the Queen was sent to intercede,and intercede in vain , for the cession of Magdeburgh ; and,on a topic upon which shewas so fully informed as w ell as so
earnestly interested, was eloquent and impressive beyon d theordinary powers of her sex. It was not till he retired for the
n ight, that his Royal Highness abandoned the post by her
side, so long neglected, and now so highly and justly appro
ciated.
The circle was petrified. Domdaniel having retreated to
a corner, was writhing his trunk fromside to side in speech
less agony.—Thebore —themaid en qui ri se -the rejected,
contemned Countess Roppenheim had held the P rince
Regent entranced in familiar conversation for one hour and
fortyminutes, by the musical pendule that told the golden
hours on the chimney-piece l—Lady Beaulieu triumphed ;and nothing was talked of next day but the caprices of for
tune, and the caprices of royalty. Amore startl ing scene,
however, wasstill in reserve. Before the closeof the afternoon,cards were issued for an impromptu ball to be given on that
very evening ; and amid the flutter of silks and satins
occasioned by the suddenness of the event, a thousandmysterious rumours became partially audible.
Lord Clanhenry, was perhaps, the onlyman in B righton
whose car they did not reach. In addition to his ordinary
packet o f long wafer-sealed epistles, the mail of that fatal
night had brought down fromtown his man of business.wearing what the newspapers call a most imposing attitude.
An interv iew was appointed between themthat could not be
neglected and two large tin cases filled with deeds ofmortgage, annu ity, insurance, assurance, and all the other paper
currency of a ru inedman, accoumanied Mr. Cursitor to his
lordship’s lodgings. Argument was unavailing , evasion
useless, compromise out of the question, procrastination impossible. Mr. Cursitor rendered it as apparent, not on ly as
words, but as deeds could make it, that his lordship was aninsolvent debtor, a bankrupt Peer and that, un less the
matrimonial redemption announced in his recent letters werealready secured, all was over with him!On that point, Clanhenry took defensive ground. If as
secured, it was secure ; and if Mr. Cursitor would do himthe honour to dine with him, and remain four-auda c i tyhours at Brighton, all shou ld be satisfactorily arranged . Headmitted it had cost himsome samples to sacrifice himself
TH ] PAVILION. 223
formoney ; but the call of honour should now be obeyed.
He would dispatch his pr0posals in the course of the after
noon and Mr. Cursitor might hear back to London, earlyon the followingmorning, intelligence that Lady Grasmerewas at Iris disposal, and her eight thousand a year at thediSposal of his creditors. And while he hastened to en an
epistle to the Viscountess, profuse in protestations of di sinter
osted and unlimited attachment, it certainly did impart somel ittle additional triumph to his feelings to reflect on the
mortification with whichFitzgerald, and the ain withwhich
the outwitted B rancepeth wou ld hear of is acceptance.
Apprehensive that some latitude of Speechmi ht circulate arumour of the object of Cursitor’s visit, shouldhe suffer theman of business to become aman of pleasure and escape out
of his sight, his lordship renounced for that day hismorninglounge and daily visits ; and, having received w ith the rest
of the court circle an invitation for the even ing, contented
himself with the certainty that before it was time for himto
dress and go to the ball, it would be time for his solicitor toundress and go to bed.
The fatal hour arrived ; and, nauseated by the first had
dinner he had eaten for six weeks and the first bottle of port
he had tasted for six years,—heated, flushed, indigestive,
having vainly waited till the last moment for Lad Grasmere’s expected answer, he at length shook hands w ith
Cursitor (who now saw two fat clients before himinstead ofone) and stepped into his cabriolet. He was very late !
W hen the great portal of the illuminated hall unclosed toreceive him, the exhilarating sound of music instantlygreeted his ear ; and groups of gay and glancing figures
w ithin, warned that the fete had already commenced ; hebeheld the Bishopess pluming herself like a peacock, and
the Ph sicianess struttin
gr like a jackdaw . When 10 !
j u st ashe entered the hal roomat one door, a general stir
an d subsequent stillness throughout the apartment warnedh imthat the Prince Regent was entering on the other. All
eyes were directed towards the spot. A. lady Splendidlyattired was leaning on his Royal H ighness
’s arm; a lady,
w hose exqu isite beauty now seemed to strike the beholders
fo r the first time. It is true they had often seen her before ;often radiant as now with diamonds ; often arrayed as now
in pearly satin . But never before had they beheld her
d ignified by the graceful homage of the Regent ; never
before had they seen her blush so sweetly as when presented
22! run u vru ort.
by his Royal Highness to Lady Beaulieu and others of his
peculiar circle, as my new and amiable friend, LadyGrasmere.
”
What the devil is themean ing of all this'
l inquired
Clanhenry (frighted fromhis proprietyby rt w ine and
consternation ) of the pan ic-struck Domaniel y his side.
Only that Brancepeth having this morning , an nouncedhis approachingmarriage to our illustrious friend, our illus
trious friendmost condescendingly resolved to
A ay ! I understand,” interrupted Clanhenry, shiver
ing W i th the shock. Poor F itzgerald, eh -One can’t
help feeling a little for poor Fitzg erald,”he continued
suddenly striving to recover himsel and disguise his vexa
tion fromthe K.C.B . ofmany echoes.
Fitz erald f—What can it signify to him? H ave you
not hear that Fred.
’s engagement with little Clerimont is
formally announced by Lady Mary Q And the worst of it is.he has sold himself a blind bargain ; for the Duchess of
Keswycke died this morning, and has led himun iversal
legatee ! Handsome Fred, by waiting half a day longer.might have escaped a w ife with a fiery head and stillmorefiery tern er. But see ; here comes Brancepeth to be con
gratulate Clanhenry ! where are you l- Has any one
seen Lord Clanhenry -God blessmy soul hemust havedisappeared while I was talking to himNo one had seen, no one did see his lordship again that
night. But two days afterwards, when the Morn ing Post
announced an approaching alliance between the Right Hon.
Lord Brancepeth and the Dowager Viscountess Grasmere.the solemnization of which was to be honoured with the
presence of his Royal Highness the Prince Regen t, an
extract fromthe Brighton paper furthermore edified the
creditors of the luckless Clanhenry w ith intelligence that hislordship was one of the passengers on board the last packet
fromNewhaven to Calais ; an incident which caused so
little scandal and specu lation in the illustrious circle ofTn s PAVILION.
END OF VOLUME 1 .