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CORNELL 
 
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 FUND GIVEN IN 189I BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
Cornell University 
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 the Cornell University Library. 
 
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THE 
 
 WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO "THE WIDOW BARNABY.' 
 
 FRANCES TROLLOPE, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "THE "WTDOW BARNABY," " THE TICAE OF WKEXHILL, " " ADVENTUKE9 
 OF JONATHAN JEFFERSON WHITLAW,'* ETC. ETC. 
 
 Sllitlj ^amirnits lUnslrations an Sttd. 
 
 LONDON : 
 WARD AND LOCK, 158, FLEET STREET. 
 
 185 7. 
 
 n 
 
/\^\51^l 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen's Hon-or at the sight of the Ugly Old Maid ... Frontispiece. 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen receives Lying-in Visits 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough objects to the Custom of the Custom-House ... 
 
 Miss Patty makes herself quite at home at the General's 
 
 Mrs. 0'Donagough''s Magnificent Behaviour to Aunt Compton ... 
 Affecting Interview between Mrs. O'Donagough and her Relations 
 Miss Matilda Perkins takes a last fond Look at her dear Lieutenant ... . 
 
 Miss Patty interrupted in her ^^te-a-^^^e with Jack 
 
 Foscroft's Surprising Declaration 
 
 Interview between Lord Mucklebury and his "Magnifica O'Donnaccia" , 
 Mrs. O'Donagough and Patty create a Sensation at Court 
 
 11 
 69 
 118 
 147 
 170 
 200 
 242 
 239 
 301 
 340 
 
THE WIDOW MAEMED. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 All persons tolerably well read in biography are aware that 
 the amiable Mrs. Barnaby, ci-devant. Miss Martha Compton, 
 of SUverton, after having lost her second husband, the Reverend 
 Mr. O'Donagough, from the effects of an unfortunate accident, 
 which occurred to him near Sydney, in New South Wales, 
 bestowed her stiU extremely fair hand on her former friend and 
 favourite. Major AUen. But the events which followed these 
 third espousals, though unquestionably of as much general 
 interest as any which preceded them, have never yet been given 
 to the pubHc with that careful attention to the truth of history 
 which they deserve ; and it is to remedy this obvious defect 
 in English literature, that the present narrative has been 
 composed. 
 
 The existence of Mrs. Barnaby (this name is once more 
 used as the one by which our heroine has hitherto been best 
 known), the existence of Mrs. Barnaby, up to the hour in 
 which she pledged her vows to Major Allen, before the altar of 
 the principal church in Sydney, had, on the whole, been a very 
 happy one. She had, in fact, very keenly enjoyed many things, 
 which persons less fortunately constituted might have considered 
 as misfortunes ; and to the amiable and well-disposed reader a 
 continuation of the history of such a mind can hardly fail of 
 being useful as an encouragement and example. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, on the day she married Major Allen, 
 was exactly thirty-eight years of age, at least she only wanted 
 two days of it ; and it is possible that her wish to enhance the 
 festivity of every scene in which she was engaged, might have 
 led her to name her birthday as that on which her third wedding 
 should take place, had it not been that a sort of dislike which 
 she had taken, while still Martha Compton, of Silverton, to the 
 unnecessary dragging forth the date of the day and hour at 
 which people were bom, stO continued. She, therefore, said 
 
 A 
 
2 THE WIDOW MAEKIED. 
 
 nothing at all about her birthday, but prepared for the solemn 
 ceremony with as much tender emotion, and as delicate a bloom, 
 as when she first pledged her virgin troth to Mr. Barnaby. 
 
 Born imder a happy star, a pleasure yet awaited Mrs. Major 
 Allen, the want of which she had often lamented, and of which 
 her hopes had long since withered and faded, till a-t length they 
 assumed the worn-out aspect of despair. But in due time, 
 after her third marriage, Mrs. AUen communicated to the 
 Major the delightful intelligence that he was likely to become 
 a father. 
 
 Major AUen behaved exceedingly well on the occasion ; pro- 
 fessing his entire satisfaction at the news, and adding with 
 newly-awakened paternal forethought, " If that is the case, 
 Mrs. Allen, we must mind our hits as to money matters, and 
 take care that our little evening card-parties answer." 
 
 To this Mrs. Major AUen had not the slightest objection ; 
 but how powerful is maternal feeling in a woman's heart! 
 Though she failed not to render her little Sydney soirees as 
 attractive as ever, though she walked about the room, and behind 
 the card-players as usual, never forgetting a single instruction 
 given to her by her ingenious husband — notwithstanding she 
 did all this, her heart was almost wholly in her work-basket I 
 
 It was really beautiful to watch the development of a 
 mother's feelings in a heart which had never yet been awakened 
 to them ! For instance, Mrs. Major Alien had never shown 
 herself, in any country, particularly fond of poor people ; but 
 now she never saw a woman in her own interesting situation, 
 without feeKng her heart, or, at any rate, her attention drawn 
 towards her ; and many a question did she ask, and many a 
 copper coin did she bestow, in consequence of this most amiable 
 species of solicitude. 
 
 During the first months of her residence at Sydney, she had 
 not, perhaps, chosen her intimates among the most domestic 
 ladies ; but now the case was entirely altered. There was an 
 excellent woman, a Mrs. Sheepshanks, the wife of an attorney, 
 enjoying great business in the town, who had more little 
 children than any other lady in it, and with her, Mrs. Major 
 Allen now sought to form an intimacy of the most famifiar 
 kind. She deUghted in nothing so much as stepping in to call 
 upon her as soon as breakfast was over, and entering with her, 
 even while her nursery avocations rendered everything hke 
 regular conversation impossible, into a sort of zigzag intercourse, 
 between saying and doing, that to any one less delightfully 
 alive to the innocent attractions of little cMldren, must have 
 appeared exceedingly tiresome. 
 
 Mrs. Sheepshanks, poor woman ! like all the other ladies in 
 the settlement, found it very difficult, not to say impossible, to 
 
NTJKSERY ATPArRS. 3 
 
 keep any decent servant in her family ; the few young women 
 who deserved the epithet, getting married themselves with such 
 certain rapidity, as to give every reason to suppose that Mr. 
 Hood's interesting anecdote of an offer of marriage being made 
 through a speaking-trumpet, to a vessel approaching the coast 
 with young ladies aboard, must have been founded strictly on 
 fact. 
 
 At the time Mrs. Sheepshanks and her httle family took 
 such hold on the affections of Mrs. Major Allen, the only at- 
 tendant the attorney's lady had to assist her in the labours of 
 the nursery, was a girl of seventeen, whose domestic education 
 not having been particula,rly attended to, left her with rather 
 less knowledge of her duties in such a situation, than might 
 have been wished. 
 
 The confusion, therefore, which sometimes ensued in this 
 department of the household, was considerable ; but Mrs. Major 
 Allen bore it all ; nay, she rejoiced at the excellent opportuni- 
 ties this afforded of obtaining information concerning many 
 infimtine facts, of which she had hitherto Uved in total igno- 
 rance. 
 
 Mrs. Sheepshanks, who, though sometimes a little fretful, 
 was in the main a good-natured woman, always received these 
 visits very kindly ; and, indeed, her respect for Mrs. Allen was 
 so great, that she considered them as an honour. For Mrs. 
 Allen had, with friendly confidence, mentioned to her how near 
 she had been to marrying a lord, of which, indeed, her beautiful 
 shell necklace gave the most convincing proof; and she also 
 explained to her the very foolish bit of fun formerly recorded 
 about the old clothes, by which she offended her wealthy aimt, 
 and so lost the chance, or rather the certainty, of becoming her 
 heiress. These, and many other anecdotes of her former hfe, 
 she had recorded in a manner which left no doubt on the mind 
 of Mrs. Sheepshanks respecting the distinguished rank of the 
 society in which she had mingled in the mother country. 
 
 " Dear me, Mrs. Major Allen ! only to think of your doing 
 all that with yoiir own hands ! " exclaimed this kind-hearted 
 mother of many colonists ; "I am sure if it was not for the 
 interest which I know you take in all these little matters just 
 at present, I should be actually fit to die, to see you do such 
 things!" 
 
 " Never you mind, Mrs. Sheepshanks,'' returned the major's 
 lady, " I can't tell you how it all interests me ! Pretty httle 
 darhng ! it shall do everything it Mkes, that it shall. Laugh a 
 little bit then — ^that's it — ^laugh again, baby — ^laugh, laugh, 
 laugh, kiss, kiss, kiss, tickle, tickle, tickle. Bless its sweet 
 heart ! I am sure it knows me ! " And again Mrs. Major 
 Allen applied the pap-boat to the last born Sheepshanks's 
 
 A 2 
 
4 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 mouth, though the over-fed and intelligent infant immediately 
 returned the superfluity without ceremony. 
 
 " How do you think I hold a baby, my dear ? " demanded 
 the anxious aspirant to maternal dignity. 
 
 " Oh, very well ! — ^very weU indeed, considering — only you 
 must mind about the pins. Little Van Diemen is pursing up 
 his mouth now, very much as if he were going to have a cry — 
 and he mostly cries when he gets a pin into him," observed 
 Mrs. Sheepshanks. 
 
 Little Van Diemen here gave the most unimpeachable testi- 
 mony in favour of his mamma's sagacity, for they Tiad a cry, and 
 such a long and lusty one, as might have daunted any novice of 
 less firm spirit than Mrs. Major Allen. She, however, hugged 
 the Uttle screamer tightly to her bosom, and though it did not 
 seem at all to comfort him, held him there very close indeed for 
 many minutes, swaying her person backwards and forwards in- 
 cessantly ; while one widely-extended hand pressed firmly upon 
 the upper joint of the vertebrse, and the other upon the lower 
 part of the infant's person, kept it in a position as likely as any 
 thing, short of suffocation, to still the sound. 
 
 " It is no good, my dear Mrs. AUen," said' the mother. 
 " He'll go on that way till he's undressed again, I'll bet any- 
 thing — just stop till I have finished combing these two, and I'll 
 look him over myself." 
 
 " Oh, do let me undress him from top to toe," cried Mrs. 
 AUen, eagerly, " I have never done that my own self yet, and 
 I cannot teU you how I long for it — ^wUl you let me try, Mrs. 
 
 " Yes, sure) if you like it — stand stUl, Eliza, can't you 1 — ^I 
 am only afraid you'U find it a great plague, and him scream- 
 ing so." 
 
 " Why, I should like it better if he didn't, to be sure, 
 because it frightens me, and in my situation, that is not exactly 
 the thing. However, it is quite needful I should get my hand 
 in ; not but what I shall make the major give the highest of 
 wages ; and that, you know, if anything can, wiU get me a 
 nurse ; so that I shan't have more to do than what my maternal 
 feeling naturally leads to. But, nevertheless, it is quite right 
 and proper that I should know all about it myself— there's a 
 darling now ; " continued the fond mother-expectant, addressing 
 the still screaming baby. " There's a love — just let me untie 
 these strings, only these strings, my beautiful darling ! There, 
 there, there — now donty wonty !" These last words being 
 uttered in the coaxing idiom of her native country, attracted the 
 attention of the nursery-maid of all work, who at that moment 
 entered the room. This girl having some years before accom- 
 panied her mother in her voyage from London, under circum- 
 
MKS. MAJOK ALLEN RECEIVES A SHOCK. 5 
 
 stances tliat, by skilful management, had rendered the excursion, 
 young as she was, equally necessary for both, was apt to boast 
 of her metropolitan education, and particularly prided herself 
 on her " parts of speech." 
 
 " Veil now, vat does donty vonty mean, I should Uke to 
 know? You'd better give over the child to me, ma'am — ^I 
 knows his vays, and he knows my vords." 
 
 The style in which this dainty damsel, who was frightftilly 
 marked by the smallpox, approached, was not conciliatory, for 
 her red arms were stuck akimbo, and her nose, always of the 
 retrousse order, turned up in very evident contempt. 
 
 " Mind your manners, Phebe 1 " cried her mistress, but 
 Phebe strode on towards the low rocking-chair on which Mrs. 
 Major Allen was seated, and placing herself before her ^ close 
 as it was possible to stand, while a pair of squinting eyes, that 
 were intended to look boldly at her, seemed wandering, heaven 
 knows where, repeated in no very silvery tones — " You'd better 
 give over the child to me." 
 
 Upon every former occasion when Mrs. Major Allen had 
 mixed herself up with the nursery arrangements of her friend, 
 the scene of action, however active and interesting the business 
 going on, had always been the parlour. But this happened to 
 be washing-day, and the absence of Phebe being absolutely 
 certain till dinner-time, Mrs. Sheepshanks gave herself up alto- 
 gether, as she said, to supply her place, and nothing less than 
 the pertinacity of Mrs. Allen could have obtained an entrance 
 into the house. Once pursued, however, into that receptacle of 
 all litter, her nursery, the poor lady was perhaps not sorry to 
 have some one as willing as Mrs. Alien to nurse a baby — for she 
 had made up her mind that day to have a general review of aU 
 her children's heads ; and accordingly the major's lady was put 
 in possession of the nursing-chair, and permitted, as we have 
 seen, to revel in the delight of handling a baby to her heart's 
 content. 
 
 So earnestly was she engaged in unraveUing the manifold 
 mysteries of baby buttons and strings^ that, notwithstanding 
 Phebe's abrupt address, Mrs. AUen did not raise her eyes towards 
 the girl, till she stood close before her face ; and when at last 
 she did so, she pushed the chair violently back, very nearly let 
 little Van Diemen fall out of her arms, and uttered, " Oh ! 
 good gracious me!" in a voice that almost amounted to a 
 scream. 
 
 " Lord have mercy ! what's the matter, Mrs. Allen ? " cried 
 Mrs. Sheepshanks, pushing aside the head upon which she was 
 operating, " Van isn't taken with a fit, is he ? " 
 
 By this time the agitated Mrs. Major Allen had risen from 
 the nursing-chair, and having hastily laid the baby in the cradle 
 
6 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 beside it, she approached her friend with strong symptoms of 
 agitation. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake come into the parlour with me for one 
 moment, my dear Mrs. Sheepshanks ! " she said. " I will not 
 detain you more than a moment. I am going home directly, 
 but indeed, indeed, I must speak to you first." 
 
 " Dear me ! I don't know what to do, I'm sure, with the 
 butter and beer, and aU lying about in this way. Wouldn't it 
 do Mrs. Allen if I was to come in and hear what you want to 
 say after dinner ? " 
 
 " Good Heaven, no ! you have no idea of the state of mind 
 I am in ! Indeed, you must let me speak to you directly." 
 
 Thus urged, poor Mrs. Sheepshanks, though looking exceed- 
 ingly distressed, resigned her sponge and her combs, placed 
 everything upon the chimney-piece, as much out of reach aa 
 she could — wiped her hands upon her Hnen apron, before she 
 took it off, and then followed her terrified-looking guest to the 
 parlour. 
 
 " Oh, my dear friend ! tell me your opinion honestly and 
 truly — I conjure you not to deceive me ! You have had great 
 experience — you must be able to form a judgment. Do you 
 think there is any danger of my child's being like that dreadful 
 girl?" 
 
 " What girl, ma'am? What is it you mean, Mrs. AUen? " 
 said Mrs. Sheepshanks, looking a Uttle cross, and as if she did 
 not as yet perceive any good and sufficient reason for her 
 having been forced to abandon her important avocations in the 
 nursery. 
 
 " What girl ? — oh ! " with a violent shudder, " that fright- 
 ful, frightful girl that you call Phebe. For Heaven's sake, Mrs. 
 Sheepshanks, don't be out of temper. Don't be angry with me, 
 but consider my situation! Though I have been a married 
 
 woman, as you know, for some years, this is the first time . 
 
 In short, you know what my condition is, and now I implore 
 you to tell me if you think there is any danger, nervous and 
 deUoate as I am, that my looking up so very suddenly close 
 under that horrid girl's face, is hkely to mark the chUd." 
 
 " What, with the smallpox, Mrs. Allen ? " said Mrs. Sheep- 
 shanks, with great simplicity. 
 
 " I don't know. Mercy on me ! how should I know ? Small- 
 pox, sqviinting, that dreadful nose too ! Oh, Mrs. Sheepshanks, 
 Mrs. Sheepshanks ! aU the happiness, aU the dehght I have 
 promised myself, will be lost and destroyed for ever, if my child 
 is bom in any way like that horrid girl ! " 
 
 Here Mrs. Major Allen burst into a very passionate flood 
 of tears, and wrung her hands so piteously, as she fixed her 
 streaming eyes upon her neighbour's fece, that the good lady, 
 
A QUESTION OF RESEMBLANCE. 7 
 
 though thinking her cause of grief rather visionary, could not 
 refuse her sympathy, and answered very kindly, " No, indeed, 
 Mrs. Allen, I don't think you have got the least bit of reason 
 to fear any such tiling. It is much more likely, depend upon 
 it, that your dear babe should resemble its good-looking papa, 
 or your own self, Mrs. AUen, who have got such good, striking 
 features, than a girl that you never happened to look at but 
 once." 
 
 " That's it, Mrs. Sheepshanks — ^that's just the most shocking 
 and provoking part of it. K I did not know that the Major 
 had always been considered as exceedingly handsome, and my- 
 self too — ^I won't deny it, for why should I ?— I was always 
 counted something out of the common way, in that respect, and 
 if I did not know all this as well as I do, I should not mind the 
 thing half so much." 
 
 " But why should your child be like Phebe Perkins, Mrs. 
 AUen ? The girl is no beauty, to be sure, Pm not going to say 
 she is ; but yet I can't understand why her ughness should put 
 you into such a way as this," replied Mrs. Sheepshanks, with 
 some Uttle severity of emphasis. 
 
 " For mercy's sake don't be angry with me my dear, dear 
 fiiend. For mercy's sake don't reproach me ! Something very 
 unfortunate will happen, Pm quite sure, if you do. You can't 
 think, I am certain you can't, how I feel. 'Twas the sudden- 
 ness, Mrs. Sheepshanks, the shocking suddenness, with which I 
 looked up, that made the danger, as I take it. Tell me, for 
 pity's sake, without being hasty with me, did any such thing 
 ever happen to you ? " 
 
 " What thing, Mrs. AUen ? The seeing Phebe ? " 
 
 " No, no, that I suppose you got accustomed to a Uttle at a 
 time, as I may say, and by degrees. So unhke poor unlucky me ! 
 But what I mean is, if any of your children were ever marked 
 in any way ' " 
 
 " Dear me, no, Mrs. Allen," repUed this fond mother of 
 many children, with a very natural air of displeasure, " can't 
 you see that they are not ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, to be sure — not in sight, not in sight, certainly," 
 sobbed out the agitated lady. 
 
 " Nor out of sight either, I assure you, ma'am." 
 
 " Oh my dear, what a happy, happy, woman you are ! and 
 so many of them like you too ! " rejoined Mrs. Allen, in so very 
 flattering and concihatory a tone, that her friend's Uttle feeling 
 of displeasure vanished at once, and cordiaUy seizing her hand, 
 she said, 
 
 " Don't you worry yourself about any such nonsense, my 
 dear Mrs. Allen. You go home, and look in the glass, and 
 there it is that you'U see what your dear baby wiU. be most Uke." 
 
8 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 There was sometHng in this assurance so calculated to touch 
 the heart of Mrs. Major Allen, that she could not resist it. 
 With an emotion over which she really seemed to have no con- 
 trol, she threw her arms round the neck of the kind prophetess, 
 and bestowed upon her a very fervent kiss. 
 
 " Heaven grant that your words may come true, my dear, 
 dear Mrs. Sheepshanks ! " she exclaimed, with her eyes once 
 more flashing through her tears. " I do declare, that if I could 
 have a girl exactly like what I was when Captain Tate first 
 came to Silverton, I should be the very happiest woman in the 
 world ! " 
 
 " Well then, I'm sure I hope you will. But I suppose you'd 
 like it to be a little like the Major too?" said Mrs. Sheepshanks, 
 playfully. 
 
 " Oh ! about that I don't know, my dear. If you could 
 know what I was at the time I talk about, I don't think you'd 
 advise any alteration — ^unless it was to be a boy, indeed." 
 
 "And then I suppose you would be better pleased stiU. 
 Most ladies like to have a boy first." 
 
 " But I don't though," replied Mrs. Major Allen, rather 
 sharply. " That's all very well for people who are never cele- 
 brated for having anything particular about them. But where 
 there is beauty, and great family beauty particularly, it is certainly 
 most desirable to have a girl, because it's likely to answer best." 
 
 " Well then," returned Mrs. Sheepshanks, rising hastily, for 
 she heard sounds alarmingly indicative of a general nursery riot, 
 — " well then, dear Mrs. AUen, go home, sit down before your 
 looking-glass, and take my word for it, there is a deal better 
 chance that your child will be hke what you see there, than to 
 poor pook-fretten Phebe. Good bye, good bye." 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen delayed not a moment longer, but took 
 leave as briskly as Mrs. Sheepshanks herself could desire. There 
 was certainly something hke superstitious respect in the rever- 
 ence with which Mrs. Major Allen listened to every word 
 a propos of maternity which fell from the lips of this lady. 
 Looking neither to the right hand nor to the left, and terribly 
 afraid that some acquaintance might stop her ere she reached 
 her home, Mrs. Allen hurried forward, with as rapid a step as 
 she considered prudent under existing circumstances, and the 
 moment her door was opened to her, hastened up stairs without 
 pausing to make any of the little domestic inquiries which 
 usually followed her return. 
 
 For a moment she sat down to recover breath, and then 
 slowly and carefully, and without too much exertion, permitted 
 herself to draw the table, which served her for a toilet, into 
 what she considered to be the most advantageous hght. Not 
 the strongest, perhaps, but that which by former experiments 
 
A STUDY FOR A PAINTER. 9 
 
 she knew would show the most favourably to her own eyes, that 
 large portion of her charms still left unscathed by time. 
 
 Having hazarded this active, but unnecessary exercise, Mrs. 
 Allen placed herself in a soft and ample chair, and sat for some 
 minutes of complete and soothing repose, with her mirror at the 
 right angle, and her own still bright eyes very fondly fixed upon 
 it. The motive for the occupation in which she was employe^, 
 perhaps gave an additional charm to her expression, and she 
 thought die was almost as handsome as ever. 
 
 There was, however, none of that dangerous confidence of 
 self-conceit in Mrs. Allen, which leads some people to fancy that 
 they are quite handsome enough, and need no improvement. 
 On the contrary, in her very best days she had never encouraged 
 the belief that her beauty, remarkable as it was, required no 
 assistance from human ingenuity and skill. She knew the con- 
 trary, and even now, alone as she was, and under the influence 
 only of motives the most pure and sublime that can elevate the 
 heart (or the art) of woman, she shook off the feehng of fatigue 
 which her exertions at Mrs. Sheepshanks's had occasioned, and 
 ceased not to add touch to touch, and divide, and subdivide 
 ringlet from ringlet, till, as she gazed on the finished picture, 
 she felt that there was no more to be done ! 
 
 A poet has said that 
 
 Industry to teanty adds new grace. 
 
 And though it is probable that this expression originally alluded 
 to labours of another kind, it is impossible not to perceive that 
 it may be beautifully applied to the charming woman whose 
 image is now before our mind's eye. 
 
 Nothing, surely, can be imagined more touching than the 
 occupation and appearance of Mrs. AUen at this time ; and a 
 painter would do well to seize and embody a moment of feeling 
 so calculated to find sympathy in every female heart. We all 
 know that pretty women love to adorn themselves for conquest, 
 and we smile, though witi no very harsh satire, at the vanity 
 that flutters the whUe around their fair bosonis. 
 
 But how difierent was the spectacle offered by Mrs. Major 
 Allen, as she sat in her lone chamber in Van Diemen's Land ! 
 Her whole soul occupied, it is true, with the idea of her own 
 beauty ; but in the hope, not of slaying whole hecatombs of 
 lovers with that beauty, as perhaps she might have dreamed of 
 in the giddy days of yore, but of transmitting it to a dear pledge 
 of wedded love, who should carry it down through unnumbered 
 generations of posterity! 
 
 Callous must be the heaxt, and lifeless the imagination, that 
 does not kindle at this image ! 
 
10 THE WIDOW MARRIET), 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 At length the happy hour arrived, and Mrs. Major AUen be- 
 came a mother. Only those who have waited as long as this 
 lady had done for the honoured blessing can be capable of ap- 
 preciating her feelings on the occasion. 
 
 It is not, nevertheless, recorded of her by those who knew 
 her best, that any very remarkable development of the organ of 
 philo-progenitiveness was perceptible in her formation. The 
 'triumphant gladness of her heart arose from a complex variety 
 of intellectual impressions with which this sort of mere animal 
 organisation had, in truth, very Uttle to do. It was the con- 
 sciousness that, while almost all other married ladies had 
 children, she had none, which had gaUed her. It was the idea 
 that her well-secured money would " have to go to somebody 
 who did not belong to her " that rankled at her heart ; and it 
 was a vague suspicion that her gay husband occasionally alluded 
 to her childless condition, and quizzed her ignorance of all 
 nursery concerns in his conversation with other, and perhaps 
 younger, ladies, which irritated her spirit. It was, therefore, 
 the c\ire for all these gnawing griefs that she blessed and hailed 
 with rapture, when a bouncing, stout-screaming little girl was 
 put into her arms. 
 
 Most ladies love a little fuss upon such occasions, and it is 
 nbt very wonderful if Mrs. Major AUen coveted a good deal. 
 Though feeling as little like an invahd as any lady ever did 
 under such circumstances, she would not abate an hour of the 
 regular stipulated month's confinement, which she had heard 
 repeatedly spoken of as the proper period of retreat for ladies of 
 delicate health. Not, indeed, that she desired to hve alone tiU. 
 the baby-moon's evolution was complete — on the contrary, not 
 only her friend and constant preceptress, Mrs. Sheepshanks, but 
 all the other genteel ladies of Sydney, were given to understand 
 that they might come to look at Mrs. Major AUen and her 
 beautiful baby every morning if they liked it ; and as very 
 sufficient caudle, and vast quantities of plum-cake were daily 
 distributed, they aU did like it very much, and came ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 Any lady of any land might, indeed, have found much in 
 Mrs. Allen's Sydney dressing-room, at this time, to repay the 
 trouble of a visit, provided, that is to say, it was within 
 tolerably easy reach of them. It might not, perhaps, have 
 been worth whUe to sail roimd half the world in order to 
 enter it ; yet there was a vast deal there both to see and to 
 adpiire. 
 
.^ 'T/^!'J-Pl> ^'&JW:4^-=;/ ■i'?/f'r'i.a-^-,i^V-- -^^^^^I 
 
THE TOILET OF MRS. MAJOK ALLEN. 11 
 
 Reading people already know that Mrs. Major Allen was 
 renr.arkable for her taste in dress ; and that wherever display 
 was called for, her pecuhar genius appeared to the greatest ad- 
 vantage. The retirement of a sick chamber might, by many, be 
 considered as likely to check, at least for a time, this propensity 
 for striking decoration ; but such was not the case with Mrs. 
 AUen ; and, though in a different style, her toilet was as dis- 
 tinguished during her first month of maternity as at any period 
 of her existence. From the hour she quitted her bed, which, 
 feeling herself exceedingly strong and well, she insisted upon doing 
 with as httle loss of time as possible, her costume was perfect. 
 This part of the business had been long meditated upon, and 
 the preparation for it having commenced at a very early stage 
 of her hopes, was persevered in with unwearied industry to the 
 end. Her long-loved satin-stitch was, upon this occasion as 
 heretofore, of the most essential use to her ; indeed, without it, 
 she never could have reached that perfection of attire for her- 
 self, her room, and her child which became the admiration of 
 Sydney and all its neighbouring villas. 
 
 Where a great effect is produced by very delicate touches, it 
 is not altogether easy either to follow the process, or do justice 
 to the result ; but what is both original and beautiful should 
 never be passed over in silence, from the doubting timidity of 
 those whose duty it is to describe it. 
 
 The curtains of Mrs. Major Allen's apartment were, upon 
 this occasion, of full rose-coloured cahco, covered with a species 
 of mushn so open in its texture as to be exported for mosquito- 
 nets. Upon the draperies of these she had, some weeks before 
 her confinement, affixed some white scallops of her own inven- 
 tion, each one having a little tassel of rose-coloured cahco, cut 
 into slips, attached to it. Her sofa, removed from the parlour 
 for the occasion, was clothed in the same style, and ehcited an 
 exclamation of wonder and delight from every one who ap- 
 proached it. Three small cushions, carelessly balanced on the 
 back and arms of this extensive cojich, were also of the same 
 gay^nd happy hue, and not a corner of them but showed in 
 patterns of labyrinthine grace and intricacy the powers of a 
 skilful needle. 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen herself was habited in a robe of white, 
 which, though not of a particularly fine texture, was really 
 exquisitely elegant, as all the Sydney ladies agreed, from the 
 profusion of elaborate satiu-stitch bestowed upon its cuffs and 
 collar. 
 
 "I always said so," observed Mrs. Major AUen to her nurse, 
 the first time she put on one of the two beautiful robes thus pre- 
 pared, " I always said that there was nothing m the whole world 
 like satin-stitch for giving an elegant finish ; and I will tell you 
 
12 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 what, nurse, you may depend upon it, that amongst all the things 
 that a woman does, there is nothing, positively nothing, that 
 answers so well as satin-stitch." 
 
 It is no use to talk of the cap of Mrs. Major Allen upon 
 this occasion, for she not only wore a succession of caps, all 
 more or less indebted to the same favourite decoration for their 
 superiority to aU other caps — ^but moreover, with a refinement 
 of taste and ingenuity of arrangement only to be equalled, 
 perhaps, by the manner in which progressive sunshine is made 
 to steal upon the pictures of the diorama, almost every day was 
 made to chronicle her approach to convalescence by some deli- 
 cate strengthening, if I may so say, of her beauty. The rouge, 
 which long habit had made so habitually a part of her daily 
 puttings on, that within twenty-four hours ofMiss Allen's birth, 
 the maternal cheek had received 
 
 a little red, 
 
 was, nevertheless, used with such forbearing moderation, that 
 the lady looked, as she ought to do, considerably paler than 
 usual ; and it was only by increasing, day by day, the skilfully 
 modulated bloom, that at the happy termination of " her 
 month" Mrs. Major Allen appeared as glowing a representation 
 of youth, beauty, and health as before. The copious quantity 
 of ringlets, too, which, excepting that they happened to be of 
 a somewhat softer texture, differed little from those which had 
 fanned the dusty air of the Silverton ball-room, . when she 
 danced with Captain Tate, appeared in Kke manner by de- 
 grees, and, to use Voltaire's charming words, returned to enchant 
 the world 
 
 Pas k pas, 
 
 Comme un Jour doux, dans les yeux d^licants. 
 
 When first she sat up in bed, one shining black corkscrew, 
 peeping forth from each side beneath the embroidered nightcap, 
 was aU that she deemed congruous to her condition. On the 
 morrow a second came, and then a third, tOl at length the 
 whole pendent mass, black as night, yet lustrous in its rich and 
 oily glossiness, once more spread its lurid glories on each side 
 her radiant face. 
 
 As to the dress and general appearance of the baby, it 
 varied according to the hours of the day. Its admirable 
 mother, who piqued herself on being an excellent manager, 
 was a great economist in aU that appertained to the laundry 
 department, and before it was many hours old she discovered 
 that care must be taken as to its dear little expenses in that 
 line; as well as in its papa's and her own. So the darling 
 poppet was not always prepared for company ; but when it 
 was, the fulness of the mother's heart might easily be read in 
 
THE major's attention TO BUSINESS. 13 
 
 the elaborate decoration of its attire. In a word, New South 
 Wales had never before seen such a mother and child; and 
 nothing could exceed the admiration they inspired, or the 
 high consideration in which the AUen family, one and all, 
 were held. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Major kept his word, and did take care that 
 all the httle parties in which he was engaged, either at home or 
 abroad, should answer. Nevertheless, his parental prudence 
 kept pace with his success, and his lady's tightly -settled, and 
 regularly-remitted income, continued to supply all their ex- 
 penses ; so that the Major's steady winnings went on accumu- 
 lating in a manner that spoke strongly of the fundamental 
 improvement which had taken place in his character and morals 
 since the period when the reader and Mrs. Barnaby were first 
 introduced to him at Clifton. 
 
 These winnings, indeed, particularly if stated night after 
 night, or day by day, would, to European ears, appear mere 
 bagatelles, hardly worth recording in a professional gamester's 
 account ; but to an inhabitant of Sydney, the yearly aggregate, 
 if roimdly named, which, however, never happened to occur, 
 would have been considered as enormous. In this case, as in 
 every other, unremitting perseverance does wonders. 
 
 Nulla dies sine linea 
 
 is a receipt to fill volumes ; and on the same principles, a purse 
 of no small dimensions may be filled, by one who, playing with 
 assured success, never suffers any hour in the day and night to 
 be passed in idleness, when it is possible to put a pack of cards 
 in action. 
 
 Such was the system of Major Allen ; and, though on a 
 small scale, Sydney was no bad field of action for him. As- 
 suredly there was no Crockford's, where, within the space of 
 half a night, a man, without quitting his chair, may be sure of 
 finding an opportunity, if he seek it, of beggaring himself or 
 his neighbour. But there were little quiet corners where, by 
 day or night, small hazards might be played for among the 
 idlers, of which the more industrious part of the population 
 know little or nothing ; and a taste for that tempting seesaw, 
 the gaming-table, generated, perhaps, in the brilhant saloiis of 
 Paris, or the club-houses of London, may find wherewithal to 
 keep itself alive, even in the deep retreats of New South Wales. 
 
 Major Allen was, therefore, by no means an idle man, 
 neither could he fairly be called an intemperate one. The glass 
 of rum-and-milk that greeted the morn, and the tumbler or 
 two of whisky-toddy that hailed the genial hours of night, can- 
 not be justly quoted in contradiction to this ; for nobody ever 
 saw Major Allen drunk. Moreover, his habits, in aU thing-s 
 
14 THK WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 appertaining to expenditure, were exceedingly careful ; though 
 he by no means denied himself the constant comfort of a good 
 dinner, or the occasional gratification of a little display ; so that 
 he and his lady were decidedly classed among the very first 
 people in Sydney. In temper, and general domestic demeanour, 
 as favourable a report may be made of him as most gentlemen 
 under similar circumstances would be hkely to deserve ; so on 
 the whole, it is to be hoped that the character of this individual, 
 who, from his near connection with my heroine, must make an 
 important figure in the drama of her future Hfe, may be consi- 
 dered in all respects as improved rather than the contrary, since 
 the reader parted from him. 
 
 But, notwithstanding all these excellent domestic qualities, 
 Major Allen was not what could be called a confidential hus- 
 band. Indeed, there were some circumstances connected with 
 his first appearance in the colony, which his wife was never 
 fuUy able to understand. It was evident that he had some 
 powerful friends among the persons in authority, and the defer- 
 ence and very strict observance he paid them, proved him to be 
 of a most grateful temper; but he never entered with his charm- 
 ing lady into any explanation of the origin of this close con- 
 nection between them. Neither did he appear to deem it 
 necessary that she should be troubled with any statement 
 respecting the Httle sums he was accumulating ; nay, his notions 
 of a weU-regulated family economy might have led him to 
 prefer taking his lady's income under his own immediate and 
 separate control ; but here, after a somewhat spirited trial on 
 occasion of the two first quarterly payments, he gave in, Mrs. 
 AUen not being a woman to give way easily, where she felt 
 herself to be right. So thenceforward he contented himself with 
 knowing that all household expenses, of every kind whatever, 
 including of course his own dress and httle personal appoint- 
 ments, were defrayed regularly, and in the most creditable man-, 
 ner, that is to say, without credit, by this fund. 
 
 Now and then, indeed, thinking the httle occasional assist- 
 ance which her quick faculties enabled her to afford whenever 
 his favourite amusement went on in her presence, gave her 
 some right to inquire, she ventured to question him respecting 
 his winnings. But the following short specimen of such dia- 
 logues win show that he well knew how to answer them. 
 
 " For heaven's sake. Major ! what do you do with all your 
 winnings? " she said to him one day, when she would greatly 
 have hked to have got hold of a portion of them to assist in the 
 purchase of a little finery. " I see you pocket lots of cash night 
 after night, and when am I to be the better for it? " 
 
 " Don't put yourself in a flurry, my love ; I often lose 
 money, of course ; though Gtod knows, and you Icnow, too, my 
 
DOMESTIC FINANCE. 15 
 
 love, that I always take every possible precaution to avoid it ; 
 but, nevertheless, it will happen." 
 
 " You have not got the face to tell me, that you do not make 
 money by playing? " said Mrs. Major AHen, with some appear- 
 ance of excitemerit. 
 
 " No, my love ! I know my duty both to myself and you too 
 well, to continue playing if such were the case. But it is an 
 amusement that I like, and I take the most scrupulous care that 
 it shall never become any annoyance to you, my dear angel ! 
 which you know it must do, did I not take care, when I win, to 
 lay by the amount to be in readiness for the time when I may 
 lose." 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen snuffed the air with a slight appearance 
 of agitation, but only said, " I hope you do lay it by. Major 
 AUen." 
 
 This occurred some months before the birth of the Httle 
 Martha ; and it was when she was exactly three months old, 
 that a snug small evening party at home, attended with a run 
 of very obvious good fortune, led to a renewal of the subject. 
 
 " A pretty sum you must have pouched last night. Major," 
 said his lady, as she poured out his tea on the following morn- 
 ing, while their infant heiress lay sweetly slumbering in a cradle 
 at her side. 
 
 " Yes, my love, pretty well." 
 
 " Then I do trust our poor child will be the better forit," 
 said Mrs. Major AUen, putting down the teapot, and placing 
 her right hand on the top of the cradle, while with the other 
 she fondly daUied with the httle coverhd, as if it wanted more 
 tucking in than she had given it a dozen times over already. 
 " I do hope. Major Allen, that for the first time in your life you 
 win do something to assist in the maintenance of your family." 
 
 " My family," rephed the Major, cherupping very affection- 
 ately towards the cradle, " have not been very long in want of 
 maintenance." 
 
 " Why, we have been married," replied Mrs. Allen, "above 
 a year, sir ; and except just furnishing the place, and giving 
 me that trumpery necklace, which is no more to be compared 
 to my shells than Mght to darkness, you have never spent, to my 
 knowledge, a single farthing of your own, from that hour to 
 this. K it had not been for my own fortune, your family 
 would have been pretty much in want of a maintenance." 
 
 " My dearest creature ! can you imagine that a man of my 
 knowledge of the world, and general savoir vivre, would ever 
 have been guilty of that most unpardonable of aU human 
 actions, the marrying a woman without fortune? No, my 
 beautiful Mrs. Major AUen, I adore you far too vehemently, 
 ever to have been guilty of such treacherous, unmanly baseness, 
 
16 THE WIDOW MARBIED. 
 
 as to have seduced you into marriage with — with — ^in short, my 
 love, with myself, had I not known that, though not so rich as 
 I once thought you, there was no danger of your actually 
 starving in consequence of your affection for me." 
 
 " And you probably thought there might be no danger of 
 your own starving either, dear Major ?" replied the lady, laugh- 
 ing a sort of experimental laugh, as not quite certain how the 
 hit might be taken. However, her excellent husband was in 
 extremely good humour, and only laughed a Httle in return, 
 buttering his toast the while as pleasantly as possible. 
 
 This, of course, acted as an encouragement upon the lady, 
 and she again hinted that she should like a Uttle money. 
 
 " Upon my word I shall be delighted to oblige you, my 
 dearest Mrs. AUen," he replied, with every appearance of gravity ; 
 " but the birth of this darling babe furnishes the very strongest 
 motive a man is capable of feeling, for prudence and economy. 
 I cannot give you money, my dear love ! It is the greatest 
 possible grief for me to be obliged to say so, but I should never 
 forgive myself, never ! Nor ever, I truly believe, should I sleep 
 in peace again, did I for a moment yield to any temptation that 
 might affect the futtire fortune of our dear little daughter ! " 
 
 Here again the Major cherupped at the cradle, and Mrs. 
 AUen, heaving a deep sigh, only muttered in reply, " Then it is 
 quite impossible I should buy any feathers for her bonnet ! " 
 
 The tone of this very happy New South Welsh couple to 
 each other was, in more respects than one, rather singular. 
 There was occasionally a vast deal of fondness displayed on both 
 sides, yet a sharp observer might sometimes have fancied that 
 there was some latent feeling of suspicion and reserve at their 
 hearts. If this, however, was really the case, they conducted 
 themselves on the whole with great discretion, and might not 
 unaptly have been quoted as a proof that all feelings, with pro- 
 per schoohng, may ever be made subservient to will. This, indeed, 
 must always be the case where motive is strong ; and motive 
 was strong enough both in the Major and his lady to produce a 
 line of conduct in each, running so parallel to each other that 
 there was little or no danger of their ever producing a concus- 
 sion by crossing. Thus, Major Allen never, even in his most 
 playful moments, nor when the whisky-toddy had been the 
 most seductive, hazarded the slightest allusion either to his 
 friend Maintry, or to his excellent servant William, or to the 
 cause or manner of his voyage out, or to the beautiful Isabella 
 d'Almafonte, or even to the Duke of Welhngton. While, on 
 the other hand, Mrs. Major Allen appeared totally to have for- 
 gotten Silverton Park, and her beautiful set of grays ; never 
 gave the slightest indication of remembering such a place as 
 Clifton, such an Abigail as Betty Jacks, such wretches as the 
 
MUTUAL OBLIVION. 17 
 
 tradesmen of Cheltenliam, or such an extraordinaxy dull place 
 as the Fleet Prison. 
 
 There can be no doubt in the world that this was the best 
 plan they could follow ; for without it there would have been so 
 remarkaiale a discrepancy between their confidential reminis- 
 cences, and the dignified strain of their ordinary bearing, as 
 must have made their fives appear, even to each other, like one 
 long-drawn-out conspiracy. Whereas, under the existing sys- 
 tem, everything went on so smoothly, that it might almost be 
 douljted whether they had not really and truly undergone some 
 Lethean process which had cleared oflf effectually and for ever 
 all the heavier shadows that hung upon the background of their 
 past existence. In a word, " bygones are Bygones" would have 
 been the most expressive and appropriate motto that they could 
 possibly have adopted. 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen was certainly in many respects a very 
 clever woman. Having acutely enough found out what the 
 Major's tactics were and were likely to be, respecting the past, 
 she not only adopted the same with very excellent feminine 
 tact, but taking the fullest advantage of the general amnesty 
 thus granted by memory to all former faults and foUies, she 
 gazed at her black-eyed little daughter with renewed hope, and 
 renewed ambition, and felt as fresh in spirit, and as ready to 
 set off again in pursuit of new plots, and new projects, as if she 
 had never met with a disappointment in her fife. 
 
 But if she wisely cast a veil over what it was disagreeable 
 to remember, the same wisdom led her, as much as it was pos- 
 sible to do so, to keep for ever before her husband's eyes, her 
 own, and those of everybody who approached her, the recoUec- 
 tion of all that was creditable in which she could claim a share. 
 Those who know the character of the man can feel no doubt 
 that here, too, the happy sympathy of disposition existing 
 between the married pair would have manifested itself, if the 
 thing had been possible ; but herein it would seem that the 
 lady had the advantage of the gentleman. For while she dis- 
 coiirsed pretty considerably at large concerning her aunt 
 Compton, of Comptou Basset, her dearly beloved niece, Mrs. 
 General Hubert, and above all, of her great friend, and great 
 connection, Lady Elizabeth Norris, the Major, though now and 
 then in general Sydney society echoing the affectionate family 
 aUusions of his wife, was never heard to obtrude the mention of 
 his own relations upon anybody. 
 
 It was impossible for a woman so acute as Mrs. Major 
 Afien, not to perceive that these frequent references to the old 
 country, increased their consideration in the new one, and this 
 indeed so evidently, that at length it struck her as being well 
 worth while to make an effort towards renewing some intercourse 
 
 B 
 
18 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 witli those, the far-off sound of whose names was so advan- 
 tageous. 
 
 One afternoon that the Major, who not unfrequently passed 
 his soirees from home, had declared his intention of remaining 
 during the entire evening in his own mansion, where he hoped a 
 friend would call and perhaps play a quiet game or two at 
 piquet with him, he happened to say, after giving his lady in- 
 structions about making the toddy, and one or two other little 
 particulars, " I like to think, dearest, that whatever I do win 
 will be sure, sooner or later, to help out the fortune of our 
 darling baby." 
 
 Notliing was so sure to put Mrs. Major Allen in good 
 humour, as an observation of this kind from her husband; 
 for the charming buoyancy of her spirits was such that she 
 already — though her young daughter was Httle more than a 
 twelvemonth old— had determined in her own mind, that the 
 third Martha should do better in life than either of her beautiful 
 predecessors had done. With a degree of contentment to wliich 
 no words can do justice, she perceived in the features, hair, and 
 complexion of her child, that she had not gazed upon her own 
 image in vain ; and blessing the prescient tenderness which had 
 dictated her doing so, she prophesied, as she contemplated the 
 black eyes and dark hair of the darling, that in her the race of 
 Compton should rise higher than all aunt Betsy's economy had 
 ever yet contrived to place it. Mindful, however, of the many 
 proofs which had met her in the course of her career, that money 
 was an iinportant auxiliary in all affairs of love, she became, 
 perhaps, almost immoderately anxious as to everything that 
 concerned the little Martha's pecuniary interests. It is pos- 
 sible that the Major was in some degree aware of this ; for it is 
 certain that whenever particularly desirous of insuring the con- 
 currence or aid of his lady, in any of his little schemes, he now 
 invariably hinted that it was probable their result, if well 
 managed, would be favourable to the future prospects of their 
 daughter. 
 
 On the occasion above alluded to, his reference to this 
 produced the happiest effect. Mrs. Allen smiled with the 
 greatest sweetness, and even playfully pinched his cheek as she 
 replied, "Never fear me, dear! Hoatd away, Major, and 
 when you have got enough to take us back, why back we will 
 go, won't we?" 
 
 The Major returned the pinch, nodded his head, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " I suppose you axe afraid to promise. Major, for fear I 
 should plague you about it? Hey? Don't be afraid; I shall 
 know how to mind my hits, and shall not be over stupid, I dare 
 Bay, in giving a guess about the when and the how too, though 
 
RETURN TO THE OLD COUNTRY PLANNED. 19 
 
 I may not happen positively to know anything about it. How- 
 ever, if you will take my advice, you will turn your thoughts 
 that way, let it be as long as it will before you can turn your- 
 self—unless^ indeed, there is any particular reason why you 
 should stay here for life." 
 
 "For Hfe? Oh, no! my love, decidedly not for life," re- 
 plied the Major, rather eagerly. " But I don't quite under- 
 stand, dear, what you mean by turning my 'thoughts that 
 way,' " he continued, with a musing air ; and then, after a 
 moment's pause, added, " To say the truth, my dear Mrs. Allen, 
 my thoughts seldom turn for long together in any other direc- 
 tion. The doings here, my dear, let a man be as persevering 
 as he will, are pitiful in the extreme ; and it is impossible to 
 think of what's going on every night on the other side of the 
 water, without being devilishly provoked, I promise you — 
 particularly when a man feels that he improves every day he 
 lives." 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen listened to this with the greatest satis- 
 faction ; it was the first time she had ever heard her husband 
 distinctly declare an intention of returning to England ; and 
 though, at the very bottom of her heart, she had determined to 
 do so herself one day or other, even if she found herself obliged 
 to leave him behind, the discovering that his wishes accorded 
 with her own was highly gratifying, and she immediately de- 
 termined upon opening her mind to him concerning a scheme 
 that had for some time past occupied her head. 
 
 " My darling Major ! " she exclaimed, " how delighted I am 
 to hear you talk so ! Remember the saying, ' Where there's a 
 will there's a way ;' and do you only give me your promise that 
 when you can go, you will, and I wiU give mine to push on in 
 every way possible to the same dehghtful end. I will spend 
 just next to nothing, dearest, in any way; — ^I will buy no 
 feathers either for baby or myself, and almost no flowers 
 neither ; I'll promise not to think of any more satin dresses, if 
 it is for — ^almost a dozen years to come ; and I will trust, for 
 making a decent appearance, altogether to turning, trimming, 
 and satin-stitch. In short, my dearest Major, there is nothing 
 in the whole world that I would not do to get back." 
 
 " I am glad to hear all this, my love, very glad. There is 
 nothing like having a few rouleaux beforehand, my dear, depend 
 upon it — stick to the saving plan about clothes and all your 
 own little expenses, and it is quite impossible to say what may 
 be the fruits of it one of these days." 
 
 " Oh ! but you don't know, Major, what else I have got in 
 my head," replied his wife, with a gay glance that reminded 
 birn of Chfton ; " when we do go back, it shall not be my fault 
 if we do not find somebody worth introducing our child to." 
 
 b2 
 
20 THE WIDOW MAIEIED. 
 
 " Who will that be, my dear ? " said he, with a glance almost 
 as gay as her own ; " to my Lord Muoklebury ? " — for, with a 
 degree of generous confidence which really did honour to her 
 heart, Mrs. Major Allen had confessed to her husband how 
 very near marriage she had been with that nobleman, and how 
 completely it was owing to a mere accidental misunderstanding 
 between them that the match had been broken off. 
 
 " It is by no means impossible that I may do that good 
 service both to you and to her, my love," answered the lady ; 
 " for I have every reason to flatter myself that what was love, 
 very fervent love certainly, has now mellowed into friendship, 
 and I have little doubt that by the time we return he may be 
 able to see me, and even my child, without pain — ^though he 
 may perhaps heave a guiltless sigh that he is not the father 
 of it. But it was not of him, Major Allen — I do assure you 
 that it was not of him I was thinking." 
 
 " Of whom, then, Mrs. Allen, — of those Clifton people ? 
 Pray do not let us talk about them. For, in the first instance, 
 I hate them all particularly ; and in the next, they are not 
 in a station of life that can do me, or any man of fashion, 
 service." 
 
 Mrs. Allen was not at all displeased at hearing her husband 
 thus class himself ; but her change of colour would have been 
 visible had she not worn rouge, when he named Clifton. The 
 emotion passed, however, and she resumed without any trace of 
 embarrassment. 
 
 " No, no, no, no. Major Allen, I am not so humble-minded 
 as you imagine. It is not my brother and sister Peters, nor 
 any of my nephews and nieces in that very commercial district 
 that I am thinking about, but of persons in a very different 
 station, I assure you. Be patient for a moment, and I will 
 explain myself." 
 
 The Major was at that moment smoking a cigar, and 
 continued the operation with as much composure as she could 
 have desired, while she rose from her chair and opened the 
 drawer of a work-table at the further extremity of the apart- 
 ment. From this drawer she took what might be recognised 
 at the first glance as an English newspaper, and which, though 
 of no very recent date, was the last that had been received in 
 the colony. 
 
 " I have promised never to be extravagant again, my dear," 
 said the lady, advancing up the room, and searching the precious 
 columns as she walked, for the article she wished to show him, 
 " and therefore you must not scold me for having bought this 
 newspaper, I reaUy could not resist it when I found this para- 
 graph concerning the very nearest relations I have in the world. 
 Let me read it to you, shall I ? " 
 
FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 21 
 
 The Major smoked on, but graciously nodded his head. 
 
 " It is the account of a drawing-room held at St. James's 
 Palace, Major Allen — I was always fond of reading those sort 
 of articles even in England, for nothing keeps up our acquaint- 
 ance with the fashionable world so well — besides the insight it 
 gives one into dress ; and here of course it is ten thousand times 
 more valuable stOl, to prevent one's forgetting the very names 
 of one's relations, and aU other persons of rank." 
 
 Here JNIrs. Major Allen began reading a very long list of 
 persons present at the drawing-room, and at length came to 
 the names of " General and Mrs. Hubert," as being among 
 them. 
 
 " I suppose you know who she is, Major Allen, if you do not 
 remember him." 
 
 " Not I," said the Major. 
 
 " What, my dear ! — don't you remember my darling niece, 
 Agnes ? The girl that I devoted myself to so completely, before 
 she married ? " 
 
 " What, the little WUloughby, who was so skittish that she 
 would never let one speak to her. Oh ! dear yes, I remember 
 her perfectly." 
 
 " WeU, Major, it is she who is now Mrs. General Hubert, 
 and who has been, as you perceive, presented at Court." 
 
 " Oh ! she married the stiif-backed Colonel did she ? I forgot 
 all about it, my dear. And is it to the General's lady that you 
 are going to introduce me ? " 
 
 There was a comic sort of leer in the eye of the Major as he 
 said this, which his wife did not altogether understand ; but 
 after looking at him for a moment, she rephed, 
 
 "To be sure it is, my dear. My darling Agnes, Mrs. 
 General Hubert, as of course I must now call her, will be beyond 
 all question the most fitting and proper person to introduce our 
 daughter into society. Nor is there the shghtest reason why 
 she should not be presented at court when she is old enough ; 
 and it is just because she is not old enough yet, that I am con- 
 tent to wait so patiently tUl it may suit you, my dear Major, to 
 accompany us back to Europe. But though there might be no 
 particular use in our going, as yet, it will, as I have lately 
 thought, be extremely proper for me to write to my niece, and I 
 certainly shall do so immediately." 
 
 " Depend upon it, my dear, I shall make no sort of objection," 
 replied the amiable Major ; " but don't you think it just possible 
 that she may not answer you ? " 
 
 " No, Major Allen, I do not. I know better than any one 
 else can, except herself, dear child ! how devoted was the attach- 
 ment I showed her — and it is not in nature to believe that 
 whenever I choose to recall myself to her remembrance, she 
 
22 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 should be otherwise than delighted at hearing from me. I will 
 not deny that some trifling circumstances occurred previous to 
 her marriage, and to mine, which displeased me. However, 
 everything was made up, most affectionately, before I left 
 England, and a very touching scene it was, I assure you, with 
 poor dear Willoughby, her father, who suddenly returned from 
 some place hke this, I don't know where, abroad, and brought 
 another daughter with him. A charming creature she is — not 
 quite so lovely and elegant-looking as my niece, but very pretty, 
 and married to an extremely rich young son of a baronet. So 
 you see. Major, the connection throughout is most extremely 
 desirable for our Martha, and when the time comes for our 
 return, will unquestionably be of the greatest importance to her. 
 So write I shall most decidedly." 
 
 The indifference with which the Major at first appeared to 
 listen to her, relaxed by degrees as she went on, and when at 
 length she paused, he said, without any sneer at all, 
 
 " Very well, my dear ; you are perfectly a woman of the 
 world, which is exactly what I would wish you to be ; and 
 nothing could be more desirable than that our little girl should 
 in due time be introduced to such very near relations. But, I 
 beheve, I have hinted to you before, that there are two or three 
 reasons which should render my immediate return to England 
 inconvenient. I have, hitherto, never entered upon any explana- 
 tion of them ; because, in fact, they possessed little interest in 
 themselves, and were of no consequence whatever to us in our 
 present situation. But if it should prove that there really is 
 any chance of our getting among the set you mention, when we 
 get back, it may be as well to make you understand the affair 
 sufficiently to prevent any awkward blunders on your part, 
 which might be inconvenient. Not that the thing, in point of 
 fact, is of any great consequence ; but nevertheless, as it involves 
 some trifling etiquette, that some sort of people think a great 
 deal about, it may be as well to put you aufait of the business ; 
 and I shall have great pleasure, I am sure, in giving you this 
 proof of my confidence. 
 
 " But here comes our friend Belmaine. Remember, love, 
 all our established hints and tokens ; and remember, also, that 
 whatever I do chance to win will be added to the fund, which I 
 trust we shall be able to lay up for our dear girl's benefit. 
 There! he is obliged to knock again ! Why does not that stupid 
 girl open the door ? We will finish our talk to-morrow, dear. 
 Only remember that you are not to write to England till I have 
 explained myself." 
 
 The worthy Mr. Belmaine here made his appearance, and 
 was received in the most friendly manner, both by the Major 
 and his lady. He was not an old acquaintance, but appeared 
 
ANNOYANCES AT THE CAKD TABLE. 23 
 
 to be a very valued one, for nothing was omitted that could 
 make their substantial tea-drinking agreeable ; and the httle 
 Martha, who with almost precocious strength of limb already 
 waddled fearlessly over the floor, was induced to add her note 
 of welcome, by a wonderfully articulated " ta, ta." 
 
 Soon after the meal was concluded, Mrs. Major Allen retired 
 for a few moments to superintend the coucher of her beautifvd 
 child, and, ere she returned, the two gentlemen had very 
 rationally sought and found consolation for her absence in a 
 pack of cards. 
 
 Whenever Major Allen indulged himself in the presence of 
 his wife with a game at piquet, whist, or eoarte, the only 
 amusements of the kind he ever ventured upon, his lady had 
 the appearance of being in, what is vulgarly called, a fidget ; 
 for she walked about the room, looked at the different hands, 
 and, in short, seemed in search of amusement for herself which 
 she could not find. On such occasions, it was usual for the 
 Major to say " Pray, my dear love, do Sit down ; you have no idea 
 how you worry me by moving about so." And she replied, 
 " Well, then, my dear, I will take my work, and amuse myself 
 now and then by looking at your hand." And then she did 
 take her work, and sat down behind him, very close indeed, 
 sometimes twitching his hair in a lively manner, and sometimes 
 playfully running her needle into his shoulder, always per- 
 mitting her animated eyes to invite his partner to take part in 
 the jest. After enduring this for about five minutes, it was 
 usual for the Major to lose his patience, and to exclaim, — 
 
 " Upon my word, my love, I cannot play if you go on so. 
 You are as froUcsome as a kitten, dearest, and I give you my 
 honour I can't bear to check you ; but, upon my soul, I am 
 such a nervous player, that I don't know what I'm about for 
 two minutes together, while you are playing your monkey 
 tricks. Could you not take your work a httlefurther away, love? " 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen could never stand this reproof, but con- 
 stantly replied, rather in a plaintive tone — 
 
 " And pretty dull sort of work I shall find it ! I dare say, 
 Mr. This, or Mr. That (whoever the- Major's partner might 
 be), will not be so cross as you are, dear, so I wiU go and sit 
 by Mm." 
 
 And she did go and sit by him, or rather behind him, but so 
 quietly, that it was next to impossible that he should be churlish 
 enough to make any objection to her remaining there. 
 
 This little domestic scene was repeated on the present occa- 
 sion, with just sufficient variation, as to the phrase and frolic, 
 as might suSice to prevent its appearing stupidly repetitive ; 
 but when it had been gone through, and Mrs. Major Allen had 
 established herself exactly in the place she wished to occupy, 
 
24 THE ■WIDOW MABKIED. 
 
 her attention involuntary wandered from the game she over- 
 looked at the present moment, to the greater one, in which she 
 flattered herself she should be engaged at a future time. The 
 mysterioxis words of her husband, too, haunted her rather pain- 
 fully. The speUing and putting together which her active 
 intellect rendered inevitable, produced a result, which, if not 
 quite new to her imagination, appeared at this moment 
 more than usually important ; and, in short, it was with the 
 greatest difficulty that she conducted herself throughout the 
 very long evening according to her husband's wishes. 
 
 She really exerted herself, however, to do the best she could ; 
 and when at length the beef-steak, sweet potatoes, and whisky- 
 toddy were called for, she performed all the duties of a careful 
 hostess perfectly. So that at last, at about two o'clock in the 
 morning, the snug little party broke up, under circumstances 
 perfectly satisfactory to the Major, who gave his weary wife the 
 reward she well merited, by saying, as he drew up the strings 
 of his inflated purse — 
 
 " Thank you, my dear — everything was very nice, and very 
 well managed. Now let us get to bed, and to-morrow morning 
 we win have a talk about the best way for you to write home 
 to your relations. It would be a fine thing for our httle missy, 
 to be sure ! and I think it may be done if we manage well. 
 People talk of good fortune, and bad fortune, but depend upon 
 it, my dear Barnaby " (it was thus he ever addressed her when 
 in particularly high spirits), " depend upon it that it is human 
 skill which regulates human affairs, and that when some great 
 misfortune befalls us, it is because we have committed some 
 great blunder ; whUe, on the contrary, if some striking blessing, 
 as it is called, rewards our endeavours, it proves, beyond the 
 possibihty of any reasonable doubt, that we have known how to 
 set about what we had to do, and performed the task skilfully 
 and well. There— don't let us talk any more to-night, because 
 that last glass of toddy has made me very sleepy. Good night, 
 dear, good night 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER m. 
 
 That nothing might interrupt the conversation which Mrs. 
 Major Allen was quite determined should not be delayed, she 
 would not even suffer her daughter to appear at the breakfast- 
 table the following morning ; but, though the young lady was 
 crying pretty lustily at the other end of the house, ventured to 
 assure her papa, when he kindly inquired for her, that she was 
 fast asleep. 
 
ECLAIRCISSEMENT. 25 
 
 Having set all things in suoli order that no further assist- 
 ance from without could be required, Mrs. Allen thus began : — 
 
 " Well, Major AUen, I have made up my mind not to let 
 this blessed day pass over my head, without writing to my dear 
 niece, Mrs. General Hubert. I have been looking over the 
 paper again — ^there is the whole account of her dress at full 
 length, which I quite forgot to show you, my dear. Such taste ! — 
 such splendour ! Don't you think, my dear Allen, that it is 
 our bounden duty to leave not a stone unturned, that might 
 help to place our dear child among such cousins as these ? " 
 
 " We win leave neither sticks nor stones unturned, as you 
 call it, my dear. But the matter must be managed very 
 judiciously. There is no doubt in the world that the relation- 
 ship is quite near enough to render our entering their circle 
 perfectly natural and proper ; and considering all you did for 
 that girl Agnes, it can hardly be doubted that she will welcome 
 you with open arms. She must be a monster, indeed, if she did 
 not ! Nevertheless, strange as it may seem to you, my dear 
 creature, there will be a good deal of caution necessary in the 
 manner in which you introduce me to them." 
 
 Mrs. Major AUen put down the portion of buttered roll 
 which she was in the act of raising to her hps, and turned 
 rather faint._ However, as she by no means wished the Major 
 to guess what was passing in her-inind, she' made an effort to 
 recover herself, which was as successful as such efforts always 
 are ; and then she replied with great apparent composure, 
 " Well, deary, you said I should know all about it to-day — so 
 get on, there's a good man, — ^I am afraid of nothing, not I, so 
 speak out, and you shall never see me flinch." 
 
 " Tou are a charming creature, my love, and deserve all the 
 devoted attachment I have shown you. Now Usten to me, then, 
 and join your excellent judgment to mine, as to the best mode 
 of conquering the difficulties which lie in ova way. But first, 
 I must ask you if you have written at all to England since the 
 death of O'Donagough, or since yom: marriage with me?" 
 
 " Why, no, my dear — ^to say the truth, I have not," replied 
 the lady ; — " for, to speak honestly, I felt half afraid of being 
 laughed at, for the facility with which I suffered my former 
 passion to regain its hold upon me." 
 
 "You were right, perfectly right. I am exceedingly glad 
 of this, for reasons which I can easily explain to you. Then in 
 fact, dear, you have never sent any letter to Europe, signed 
 with my name? Nor any announcing your last husband's 
 death?" 
 
 " No, I never have." 
 
 " And you never shall, my darling 1 " returned the Major, 
 in am accent of very ardent tenderness. 
 
26 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 Mis. Major Allen looked very much as if she ■wished to say, 
 " Why ? " But she conquered the wish, if she felt it, deeming 
 it best to let her husband tell his story his own way. After a 
 pause, sufficiently long to permit his finishing his first cup of 
 tea, the Major continued. 
 
 " No, my love, never ! This declaration must, I am sure, 
 astonish you, though your sweet reliance on me will not permit 
 you to say so. Believe me, darling, this noble confidence is not 
 misplaced ; and the time will come, doubt it not, when you will 
 thank me for the prudence which thus anxiously seeks to spare 
 you all alarm. The fact is, my love, that an affair of honour," 
 which ended fatally, was the cause of my leaving England." 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen did not beheve one word of this — ^but she 
 was an admirable wife ; and instead of contumaciously express- 
 ing any doubt, meekly replied, " Really !" 
 
 " Yes, my love ! My unerring hand sent the leaden mes- 
 senger of death too truly ! and nothing but the conscientious 
 conviction, that the wretch who thus feU deserved his fate, 
 could console me for being the author of it ! " 
 
 As the Major said this, he concealed his agitation, or at any 
 rate, his face, by his extended hand, leaving room, however, 
 between his third and fourth finger, to peep at the face of his 
 wife, and see how she bore it. Fortunately, that excellent and 
 intelligent lady perceived that hfe did so, and immediately 
 checked an inclination to smile, which might have been dis- 
 agreeably interpreted. So instead of this, she blew her nose, 
 and then said, very gravely, 
 
 "Oh! my dear, there is no good in fretting and vexing 
 about those kind of things. They must happen, you know, 
 occasionally ; and to say the truth, I did not think that any 
 gentleman of your profession, any military gentleman, I mean, 
 would have thought much about it." 
 
 " You are quite right, my dear — quite right, in a general 
 way. But there were one or two very unfortunate circum- 
 stances attending this affair. In the first place, we had no 
 surgeon on the ground. This of itself you know, though purely 
 accidental on my part, lays one open to the most abominable 
 constructions. Then my adversary's second ran away. Stupid 
 fellow ! as if any harm could have come to him ! In short, I 
 was advised by my lawyer himself, as well as by all my military 
 friends, not to run the risk of a trial. This, sweetest, is my 
 history. And now you wiU be at no loss to understand why I 
 should never wish you to send a letter to your friends in 
 England, signed with the guiltless, but unfortunate, name of 
 Allen." 
 
 There was the struggle of a moment in the heart of Mrs. 
 AUen, as to whether she should have the pleasure of telling the 
 
■what's in a name? 27 
 
 master of her destiny, that she was a vast deal too clever to 
 believe a single word of all he had said, or suffer him to lie his 
 way, unchecked, out of the very disagreeable predicament in 
 which she was pretty confident he was placed. But luckily, 
 she remembered the weakness of a divided bundle of fagots, 
 and at the same instant, determined at once to swallow what- 
 ever her spouse, in his wisdom, thought it convenient to ad- 
 minister ; and moreover, to the very best of her power, to make 
 all others swallow it Hkewise. 
 
 " You may depend upon it, my dear, I shall sign the letter 
 I am going to write to my dear Agnes, with whatever name 
 you bid me," was the gentle and generous answer of Mrs. Allen, 
 as soon as she had made up her mind to keep her cleverness to 
 herself 5 and perhaps she gave this promise the more readily, 
 from remembering, as she spoke the name of Agnes, how very 
 little honour, either in her eyes or in those of General Hubert, 
 that of AUen was likely to confer on the young cousin she was 
 about to announce to them, even if unaccompanied by any of 
 the adventiires, which she thought it possible might have become 
 connected with it, since they last had the pleasure of hearing it 
 pronounced by her. 
 
 " No man was ever blessed with a more charming wife than 
 I am ! " cried the Major vrith sudden gaiety, and probably well 
 pleased .at having got through the business of explanation so 
 happily. Then, after a moment's consideration, he added, 
 " Why, my dear, should you not continue your late name of 
 O'Donagough ? Upon my honour, I have no prejudice what- 
 ever against it, if you have not ; and the doing so might, 
 perhaps, be less embarrassing for you than taking any other." 
 
 This proposition evidently took the lady by surprise ; and 
 the manner in which she now looked up in the Major's face, was 
 without any premeditation at aU. 
 
 " Perhaps you have some objection to this, my dear ? . Per- 
 haps the name of AUen is dearer to you than all others ? " said 
 the Major. 
 
 "' Oh ! I don't know, I'm sure, anything about that. It 
 would be foolish, you know, my dear, to take fancies when we 
 are talking about business," replied his high-minded wife : " I 
 only look so, because I don't quite understand what it is you 
 would be at. Am I to tell my niece, and my nephew the 
 General, and my brother-in-law, Mr. WiUoughby, and all the 
 rest of them, that you are a relative of my late husband, Mr. 
 O'Donagough ? " 
 
 " By no means, my love. That must inevitably create 
 confusion. What I propose, is merely that you should state 
 yourself still to be the wife of the respected Mr. O'Donagough 
 himself." 
 
28 THE AVIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " But, good gracious, Major, how could I do that when we 
 go back, after every one of them has seen Mr. O'Donagough, 
 and has been regularly introduced to him in person ? And 
 besides," she added, somewhat in a lower key, " they have 
 most of them seen you into the bargain." 
 
 " True, dearest, true — all quite true ; nevertheless, I do not 
 anticipate the slightest inconvenience from this. I have had 
 the honour to see some of your amiable relations, certainly ; and 
 I question not, but they have also seen me. They may likewise 
 have seen your late estimable husband. All this I grant you ; 
 but it will make no diflference whatever, my love. Do not be 
 uneasy about that. It will give us no trouble worth naming, 
 I assure you." 
 
 " I must confess that now you do puzzle me," replied Mrs. 
 Major Allen, with great naivete, " and I don't know the least 
 bit in the world what you mean." 
 
 Major Allen smiled with great complacency upon his charm- 
 ing wife, as he answered, " My lovely Barnaby, you are, with- 
 out flattery, one of the sharpest- witted and most intelligent 
 women I ever met with ; and it is only on points, where nothing 
 but experience and a more extended knowledge of the world 
 has assisted me, that I can assume any sort of superiority to 
 yoTi ; and even here, you have only to open your own charming 
 eyes a little, in order, if not exactly to overtake me, at least to 
 lessen the distance between us. This business of identity, dear 
 love, is a mere bugbear. A man of any tolerable degree of 
 talent snaps his fingers at it. The late O'Donagough was tall, 
 was he not?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Mrs. Major AUen, succinctly. 
 
 " And so am I, my love. This, beheve me, is the only point 
 of difference between man and man, which is really of import- 
 ance—and even that may be greatly modified. Of coiirse, 
 dearrat, I do not speak of cases of daily intimate intercourse. 
 This, I know, does create difficulty — and yet — " Here the 
 Major smiled, and seemed to have some amusing anecdote at 
 the tip of his tongue ; but he checked the wish to utter it, and 
 only said, with very matter-of-faot gravity, " Neither Mr. 
 O'Donagough nor I were ever very intimate with these great 
 folks, whose favour you now wish to propitiate ; therefore, on 
 that score, there can be no fear of mischief — ^and now I want 
 your opinion. Speak out, dear ! Have you any personal objec- 
 tion to this plan, independent, I mean, of any fancied embarrass- 
 ment in putting it into execution ? " 
 
 " No, I' think not," repUed Mrs. Major Allen, with consider- 
 able promptitude and sincerity of tone ; for, during the Major's 
 last speech, she had run over in her mind all the reasons which 
 existed against her particularly wishing to introduce the father 
 
THE MAJOR PROPOSES TO CHANGE HIS NAME. 29 
 
 of her intended peeress, as the Major Allen of CHfton ; and had 
 come very decidedly to the conclusion that she had much rather 
 call him by any other name under heaven. 
 
 The Major at once saw that whatever objections might in 
 the first instance have occurred to his proposal, were already 
 removed, and in the fulness of his contentment he gave his lady 
 a kiss, and once more called her his " charming Barnaby." 
 
 The mind of this " charming Barnaby" was never idle, and 
 even in the short interval which had passed since the moment 
 when she first fully conceived his project, such a varied multi- 
 tude of reasons had crowded one over the other into her active 
 brain in favour of it, that she was by this time quite as well 
 pleased by the notion as himself. 
 
 Many minor details, however, remained to be settled before 
 they could act upon it ; but these were all discussed with the 
 most laughing good-humour, and such a multitude of droll, 
 hvely things were said on both sides, that it may be doubted if 
 they had ever enjoyed each other's conversation more, since the 
 first happy hour of confidence at Clifton, when the Major re- 
 lated the history of his former life. 
 
 The great question seemed to be whether Major Allen's 
 transmutation into Mr. O'Donagough should precede his 
 departure from the colony, or follow it. In all letters to 
 England, it was of course to be immediate, and it was easy, 
 enough to desire that aU answers should be directed under cover 
 to Mr. or Mrs. Somebody. But how were they to explain to 
 their South- Welsh friends this singular metamorphosis, if they 
 decided upon its taking place inmaediately ? And what were 
 they to say to their Uttle daughter about it if they put off this 
 alteration of her name and famQy till she was old enough to ask 
 questions about it ? Besides, who could answer for it, as her 
 mother very judiciously observed, that the little angel might 
 not tell tales on the other side of the water, without intend- 
 ing to do any more harm than a playful lambkin when it says 
 " ba ? " 
 
 " Hush ! " said Major Allen, holding up his forefinger, as a 
 signal that he desired silence. His wife obeyed, and they both 
 were silent for at least five minutes. He then altered his posi- 
 tion in his chair, setting an elbow firmly on each arm of it, and 
 fixing his eyes steadfastly on his fair lady's face, delivered him- 
 seK of the valuable result of these five minutes' cogitation, in 
 a tone as decided, and free from aU the weak vacillations of 
 doubt, as if he had been listening to the voice of an oracle 
 during the interval. 
 
 " My dear love," said he, "the thing hes in a nutshell: 
 you will find upon looking through a box of papers left by 
 the late Mr. O'Donagough, a testamentary paper, by which he 
 
30 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 bequeaths to you a small landed property in the south of 
 Ireland — I say the south of Ireland, dearest, because if the 
 acquisition produces no visible alteration in our manner of 
 living, nobody will be surprised at it — a small landed property 
 in the south of Ireland — ^but bequeathed upon the condition that 
 any husband whom you shall marry, as well as aU children 
 whom you may have, shall take and bear the name and arms 
 of O'Donagough. The said estate to be forfeited if the said 
 conditions be not complied with, vrithin one year after the 
 bequest is claimed. If you will leave me for a few minutes, 
 my dear, I think I shall be able to iind this document." 
 
 These last words were accompanied by a smile which brought 
 the Major's left mustache very nearly to the off corner of his 
 left eye ; a conjunction of features that denoted a most happy 
 and facetious frame of mind. 
 
 Mrs. Major Allen replied by a laughing and intelligent nod ; 
 but said, " You must let me finish this beautiful bit of hot 
 buttered toast first, my dear — I have almost burnt my eyes out 
 to do it. I remember the time, Major, and not so very long ago 
 either, when it was no less a person than Mrs. General Hubert, 
 this identical grand lady that we read of at court, who knelt 
 down before my fire to do this job for me. Mercy on me ! — 
 To be sure, who ever would have thought of poor Sophy's girl 
 coming to be the wife of a general, and presented at court ? 
 And what, if you please, is to prevent our girl from doing as 
 well ? I'll answer for it she will be ten times handsomer than 
 that pale-faced Agnes ever was — all she had in the world for 
 her was her youth and her eyes. I ask anybody to look at our 
 Martha's eyes, and say if they don't beat those of Agnes out 
 and out ; and as to the article of youth — which, by-the-by, I 
 do think is very necessary to the making a really great match — 
 as to that, you know my dear, it will be our own fault if we 
 do not let her begin early enough." 
 
 " Most assuredly," was the satisfactory reply ; upon which 
 the lady stood up, swallowed her last mouthful in that attitude, 
 and with another sprightly nod, prepared to leave the room. 
 
 " Stay one moment, dearest ! " said the Major ; " do you 
 happen, my love, to have any of the late' Mr. O'Donagough's 
 handwriting by you? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; lots of it. He was a great writer, you know." 
 
 " Do you tliink you have got his signature, dear ? " 
 
 " Most likely, love. I will go and rummage his old writing- 
 desk." So saying, Mrs. Major Allen left the room, and in a 
 very few minutes returned to it with a handful of MSS. 
 
 " Here are all sorts here," said she, " and a bushel more if 
 you want them, up stairs, with plenty of signatures amongst 
 them. Here's a sermon, look ! and here's a calculation of odda 
 
INDITING A LETTEE. 31 
 
 about some horse race. He was suet a queer man, poor O'Dona- 
 gough! — I shall always think he was half mad." 
 
 " Very likely, love. There, lay them down. That will do 
 perfectly well ; now you may go and write your letter if you 
 will, while I look through these papers in search of the document, 
 you know." 
 
 And now, leaving Major AUenat one writing-table, we must 
 follow his lady to another. 
 
 The last letter Mrs. Major Allen had addressed to her niece 
 Agnes was from the Fleet Prison : she remembered this and 
 smiled. 
 
 " Mercy on me ! " she exclaimed in muttered soliloquy. 
 "What a deal has happened to us both since then ! Little hussy ! 
 — she was then in the very best of her bloom, and she made the 
 most of it ; I suspect she was quite right in not coming to me. 
 Ten to one she would have lost the proud colonel if she had ; 
 and it is just because I see she is up to a thing or two, that I 
 win take the trouble of writing to her now. Little fox ! she 
 was deep as deep ; and I don't think her Aunt Barnaby was 
 such a very great fool either. Now then, Miss Agnes, let us see 
 if I can't come round you. If it answers, if I can contrive to 
 make her grandeeship useful to my girl, I know who will be 
 the cleverest yet. Now for it then." 
 
 " My dearest Agnes ! " 
 
 " I am not quite sure about that, calling her by her name 
 at first setting off. 
 
 " ' Agnes, Agnes, thon art mine ! ' 
 
 as the song says. But that will only put her in mind of fifty 
 things that it would be just as well she should forget. I'll 
 begin again." 
 
 " My dearest Niece ! 
 
 " I will not believe that the three short years which have 
 passed since we parted, can have sufBced to make you forget the 
 nearest blood relation that you have in the world : for unless a 
 grandmother is nearer to us than a mother, which I am sure no 
 one in the world can think, a real aunt, your own dear mother's 
 own sister, must be nearer to you as a relation than all the 
 aunt Betsies in the world, let her be ever so rich, Agnes." 
 
 Having proceeded thus far, Mrs. Major Allen put her pen 
 into the ink-bottle, and there let it remain while she read and 
 re-read this exordium. " Yes, that wOl do," thought she, 
 " that is just the right way to bring in her Christian name 
 familiarly." She then resumed her pen and went on. 
 
 " It would give me more pleasure in my distant home than 
 
32 THE WIDOW MAKKIED. 
 
 anytlung else in the world, if you, my dear sister's own child, 
 would just give me a line now and then, to tell me how you are 
 going on, and above all things whether you are as happy as I 
 wish you to be. Short as the interview was, it was a great 
 pleasure to me to have got a sight of your dear father. Oh ! 
 Agnes, how the sound of his voice did put me in mind of times 
 — gay, happy times, my dear child — ^before you were born ! 
 Pray give my kindest sisterly love to him, and tell him that he 
 would do me the very greatest favour in the world if he would 
 only write a few lines to me. I am sure that if he will but turn 
 a thought back to his pretty, pretty Sophy, when she used to 
 sing to him so sweetly, he will not have the heart to refuse me. 
 *' I am sure, my dear niece, that you will be glad to hear 
 that I am very happy and fortunate in my last marriage ; and, 
 moreover, that at length you have a httle cousiu born. A beau- 
 tiful little girl she is, I must say, though to be sure a mother's 
 judgment is apt to be partial. But I really do think if you 
 were to see your little coi:isin, Agnes, you could not help being 
 very fond of her, she is so very clever and intelligent, besides 
 being so particularly beautiful that everybody who sees her 
 takes notice of it. I have called her Martha after myself, and 
 my dear mother, who was your grandmother, you know, my 
 dear Agnes. God knows if circumstances will ever enable 
 myself and my truly excellent husband to return to our native 
 land ; I fear, indeed, that the chance is a very remote one ; but 
 it would be a happy moment for me if I could show you and 
 your dear father my child ! Can't you fancy, Agnes, what a 
 pleasure it would be for me ? But it is no good to think about 
 it, at least for a great many years yet — so many, indeed, that 
 she would no longer be a little child. You, too, my dear Agnes, 
 may, perhaps, be a mother also. If so, you wiU the better 
 understand my feelings about my darling httle girl ! I inclose 
 you a lock of its dear little hair, by which you wiU see that it is 
 as dark as mine, and that already it curls naturally like yours. 
 Though we are so many miles asunder, I hope you wiU think of 
 me and your httle cousin sometimes ; I am sure she will be 
 brought up to think often of you. My excellent husband, who 
 is decidedly a person of the first consideration iu the colony, 
 sends his affectionate comphments, and his blessing to you and 
 yours. And with every good wish, my beloved Agnes, for 
 yourself and all who are dear to you, 
 
 " I remain, ever and for ever, 
 
 " Your most affectionate aunt, 
 
 " Martha O'Donagotjgh." 
 
 She was in the act of folding this letter, when her husband 
 
A CLEVER PENMAN. 83 
 
 entered the room. He, too, had been far from idle, and held in 
 his hand the proof of it. 
 
 " I have found the document, my love, " said he, with his 
 smiling mustache. " Here it is — ^I shall immediately go and 
 show it to everybody I know in the town, and shall tell them 
 that though I am by no means sanguine as to our ever deriving 
 any benefit from the little out-of-the-way bit of property be- 
 queathed by it, I am, nevertheless, determined that our darhng 
 child shall lose nothing by any folly or indifference of mine. I 
 shall let them all know — the authorities and all — that hence- 
 forth, for the sake of the chance it may give my dear httle one, 
 I shall never call or sign myself by any other name than that 
 of O'Donagough. TMs is a capital notion of mine, depend 
 upon it, in many ways." 
 
 " I really think it is," said his wife, examining the papers he 
 had laid before her. " But good gracious. Major, how very 
 Uke you have made it look to poor O'Donagough's writing 1 I 
 <Jo declare I could no more tell them apart than I could fly ! 
 How very clever you must be with your pen ! " 
 
 The Major put his hand before his mouth, caressed his 
 mustache, but said nothing. 
 
 " And now read my letter to Mrs. General Hubert, will 
 you. Major, and tell me what you think of it." 
 
 " You must leave off calling me Major, my darhng, — re- 
 member that," said the gentleman. 
 
 " That will be difficult at first, my dear," repUed the lady ; 
 " but I dare say I shall be perfect enough at it before the time 
 comes for our going to England. But do pray read my letter." 
 
 Without further delay he did so, and most cordially ex- 
 pressed his approbation. 
 
 " The devil is in it, my Barnaby," said he, giving her a very 
 hearty kiss, " if we cannot between us contrive to sail before the 
 wind. Why, here is a touch that is worthy of old TaUeyraad 
 himself; this blessing, I mean, that I send them down here in 
 the corner." 
 
 " Of course, I did not forget, my dear, that you were the 
 Reverend Mr. O'Donagough, when I introduced you to my 
 family at parting. It won't do to forget that, you know." 
 
 " Upon my soul, you are an angel ! " he exclaimed, " and I 
 do not believe the whole earth could furnish another woman to 
 suit me as admirably as you do." 
 
34 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It was at an unusually late breakfast-table, one bright morn- 
 ing, in the very height of the London season, with windows 
 opening upon Berkeley-square, and letting in through their 
 Venetian blinds so rich an odour of mignionette as to make the 
 heat and dust without forgotten, that General Hubert and his 
 lady were discussing the brilhant party of the evening before, 
 when the postman's speaking dissyUabie signal gave notice of 
 the arrival of a letter. 
 
 " From aunt Betsy, I am very sure !" exclaimed the lady. 
 "From your sister, with a few more raptures about Cala- 
 bria," said the gentleman. Their suspense was not of long 
 duration ; the silver salver addressed itself to the fair hands of 
 Agnes, who took from it a letter bearing most decidedly neither 
 an Italian nor a Devonshire postmark. 
 
 " Who in the world is that from ? " said General Hubert. 
 " Heaven knows ! It is excessively dirty," rephed his wife. 
 • " It is a ship letter," observed the general. 
 " But the postmark illegible," answered Agnes ; and then 
 having, like many other wise people, wasted a little more 
 time in examining the interior of her despatch than it would 
 probably take to read it, she broke the seal and looked within. 
 
 The deUcate cheek of Mrs. Hubert- was instantly mantled 
 with a bright blush. 
 
 " Whoever your correspondent may be, Agnes," said the 
 general, meeting the distressed expression of her eye with a 
 look of surprise, "he has no reason to complain of your in- 
 difference." 
 
 " Indifference?" she exclaimed; " no, not indifference. But 
 how, Hubert, will you endure, even upon paper, the reappear- 
 ance of my aunt Barnaby ? " 
 
 " Your aunt Barnaby ? " replied the general, with a smile. 
 " JsTever mind, Agnes, she will not harm us now." 
 
 " Oh, thank Heaven ! " cried his wife, fervently. "Ifyouoan 
 bear it so philosophically, Hubert, I shall declare presently that I 
 am glad to hear from her." 
 
 "Especially by a very way-worn, distant-dated ship-letter, 
 my love," he replied, laughing. " But if the request be not in- 
 discreet, for kindness' sake read it aloud." 
 
 She did so, and the general's commentary was far from 
 unfriendly. 
 
 " I declare to you, Agnes," said he, " that I am very glad 
 indeed to hear so good an account of her." 
 
 " Thank you a thousand times, my own dear Hubert," said 
 
AN ABRUPT TERMINATION. 35 
 
 Agnes, stretching out her hand to him. " If you had looked, 
 at sight of this epistle, as I have seen you look in days of yore 
 at sight of herself, I should have been — oh! I won't say how 
 unhappy, because, poor foolish woman, what she says is true. 
 She is my own mother's sister ; and though — though she is, or 
 at least was, all that I beheye you thought her, it would have 
 made me as sorry almost as I could now be for anything that 
 did not absolutely interfere with my own dear menage, had you 
 wished me not to answer it. But you will let me answer it, 
 dear husband, will you not? Poor thing ! only fancy her having 
 a child, Hubert ; what will it be like ? " 
 
 "Very Mke herself, I dare say, Agnes,'' replied General 
 Hubert, laughing ; " that is, you know, excepting all this," in- 
 dicating the well-remembered rouge and ringlets by an expres- 
 sive flourish of his fingers around his face; "such finished 
 charms cannot appear at once ; and, indeed, I should not be at 
 all surprised if Miss Martha O'Donagough were to turn out a 
 very bright-eyed httle beauty." 
 
 " Nay, I trust she will, or my poor aunt will break her heart. 
 I cannot say I have a very distinct recollection of the papa. 
 Have you ? " 
 
 " Not the least in the world ; and yet I shall never forget 
 their entree. How incomparably well your father behaved ! 
 I assure you it was a lesson which, I hope, if the good lady 
 were actually to appear before us in person, I should not 
 forget. It was the most gentle and gentlemanly reproof to 
 our beloved aunt Betsy's severity that ever I witnessed ; and I 
 am rather proud to confess, Agnes, that notwithstanding my 
 very strong inclination at the time to sympathise with the harsher 
 faction, I felt that he was right then, and have decidedly loved 
 hiTTi the better for it ever since." 
 
 "K ever there was a perfect — " began Agnes, raising her 
 beautiful eyes to the face of her husband — ^but the sentiment or 
 opinion she was about to pronounce was lost to the world for 
 ever, by the general's very uncerranoniously closing her hps with 
 a kiss. 
 
 " We are despicably late this morning," said he, on looking 
 at his watch, after perpetrating this audacity ; " and I must go 
 to the Horse Guards about young Belmont. But let me see my 
 boys first, Agnes." 
 
 Whatever emotions the lady might feel on being thus uncere- 
 moniously treated, they were not such as to induce her ' to 
 refuse his request. The proper signal was given, and two young 
 things entered the apartment, one carried in the nurse's arms, 
 and the other doddling before her, whosg aspect might really 
 have excused, if anything could, the vehement fanaticism of 
 Mis. Elizabeth Compton concerning them, as well as some un- 
 
 c2 
 
36 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 deniable symptoms of weakness on the part of General Hubert 
 Umself. That their mother should be firmly persuaded that no 
 children in any degree approaching witliin reach of a compari- 
 son with them, ever did, or ever could exist, is a circumstance 
 of too constant occurrence to merit an observation. But the 
 little boys were, in truth, very pretty children, and it was no 
 unpardonable vanity which made their mamma exclaim, as they 
 entered, "I really should like for aunt Barnaby, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough I mean — I really should like for her to see them, 
 Hubert. But, perhaps, if her little girl is in another style, she 
 might hardly thank me for showing them to her." 
 
 " Silly woman ! siUy woman ! " said the brave general, going 
 on all fours to accept the challenge of his first- born to a game 
 of romps. " Don't you know better than that yet ? Why, 
 your sister Nora thinks her little flaxen-headed dolls quite as 
 handsome as either Montague or Compton." 
 
 " You are quite mistaken, I assure you. General Hubert. She 
 neither does nor could think- any such thing. The little Ste- 
 phensons are charming children, beautiful little creatures ; but — " 
 
 "Good morning, Agnes!" cried her laughing husband, 
 springing up from his station on the carpet. " Don't finish the 
 sentence — but just teU me if aunt Barnaby herself could be 
 more preposterous in her estimate of our young Van Diemen's 
 Land cousin, than you are of these young gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Nonsense, Montague ! You don't deserve to look at them. 
 Let Compton alone, if you please, sir ; I do not choose to have 
 his cap taken off. I know howl could revenge myself, general, 
 for your impertinence ; I should be perfectly justified in shutting 
 your two sons up for a month, where you could by no device 
 obtain a sight of them. How do you tMnk you should bear it, 
 General Montague Hubert ? " 
 
 " It would be a prodigious relief, my love. Let it be all 
 arranged before I return," said he, kissing his hand as he re- 
 treated towards the door. 
 
 " Away with you, dull jester ! " replied his wife ; but ere he 
 had passed the door she added, " Stay one moment, though, and 
 speak seriously, if you can. Have you really no objection to my 
 answering my aunt's letter ? " 
 
 "Most certainlynot. Indeed I should be sorry if you did not 
 answer it, for it would not be acting hke yourself, my Agnes. 
 Answer it by all means, and join my name with youi-s in the 
 expression of all civility." 
 
 " Then I will write directly. Poor aunt Barnaby! Only 
 think of her sending me this look of her baby's hair ! I think I 
 must send her a scrap of these bright chestnut ringlets in re- 
 turn," continued the young mother, twisting the silken curls of 
 the eldest boy round her fingers. 
 
A WELCOME PRESENT. 37 
 
 " Take care how you use your shears upon that head, 
 dear love ! " replied the General, in an accent of considerable 
 alarm. 
 
 "Silly man! silly man!" retorted the laughing Agnes. 
 " Don't you know better than that yet ? " 
 
 " No, seriously, Agnes — jesting apart — I should not like 
 to have you ' cut a monstrom cantle out' of these most dainty 
 tresses, which are as hke your own as it is possible for infant 
 tresses to be." 
 
 " And that is the reason you would not liave them cut. Oh, 
 you false flatterer ! " replied his wife. 
 
 " Besides, to say the truth," rejoined General Hubert, put- 
 ting aside her admonitory finger, " I really tliink, Agnes, you 
 might hit upon something more welcome, in the way of a dutiful 
 niece-Kke otfering, than a bit of this newly-spun silk. Your 
 aunt used to love a fine gown. If I were you I would make a 
 shipment to Sydney of sundry ells of rich satin or velvet, or 
 something of that kind." 
 
 "Are you in earnest, Montague? I should reaUy like to 
 do so, very much." 
 
 " Indeed I am in earnest. Your father is coming to dine 
 with us to-day. Let him see Mrs. O'Donagough's letter, and 
 I dare say his heart will be moved to comply with her petition 
 about writing, and perhaps to send her a coral and bells for her 
 daughter into the bargain." 
 
 ***** 
 
 After this conversation, it will be readily believed that 
 such a packet was despatched from Berkeley-square to Sydney, 
 as threw Mrs. O'Donagough (Allen no longer) into a perfect 
 state of ecstasy on receiving it. 
 
 " Now, my dear Ma O'Donagough, I mean," with her 
 
 eyes blazing up again with all the renovated brightness of 
 youth, " now, what do you think of the chance of our Martha's 
 presentation ? You talk of saving and saving, and scraping a 
 few pounds together, and it is all vastly well as far as it goes, 
 but what wiU it aU amount to in point of advantage to our 
 daughter, compared to her being presented at court by Mrs. 
 General Hubert? I trust, O'Donagough, you are now sen- 
 lible of the benefit we are likely to derive from the notice and 
 affection of my family." 
 
 " This is an extremely handsome dress, my dear, there is no 
 doubt of it," replied the ci-devant Major. " You will look per- 
 fectly divine in green velvet ! And your brother-in-law, Mr. 
 Willoughby, has reaUy acted with great politeness and attention 
 in sending this handsome frock and coral ornaments for the 
 child. It all speaks well, both for the wealth and good- will of 
 the parties. You must answer these letters punctually, of 
 
88 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 course, and we may find out some little production of the 
 country that will not cost much, to send in return. I am quite 
 aware, my dear, very perfectly aware I assure you, of the pos- 
 sible value of your connections. By the way, did not that 
 dashing gay young Stephenson, whose fortune they said was a 
 great deal larger than his elder brother's, did not you tell me 
 that he had married another niece of yours ? " 
 
 " Not exactly a niece, Major." Here her husband seized 
 Mrs. O'Donagough rather suddenly by the wrist, and stopping 
 short her speech, said, "Bad habits are bad things, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough ! You must, madam, immediately cease your 
 foolish trick, under the circumstances, your incredibly foolish 
 trick of calling me Major. Don't obhge me to remind you of 
 it again, if you please. It is no child's play we are upon, 
 remember that. I could make up my mind in five minutes, 
 not to care a straw about your stiff -backed cousins from one 
 end of the list to the other ; but if I do for the advantage of 
 the child, and to obhge you, if I do determine to give myself 
 the trouble of getting amongst them, it must be done in a 
 manly, decided, business-Uke spirit, and in a style that may 
 hereafter enable me to turn it to account. Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 do you understand me ? " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure I do," she replied, disengaging her arm 
 by a stout tug. "You need not claw one in that way, I am not 
 
 a bit more likely to spoil a good scheme than yourself, Mr. , 
 
 alias O'Donagough." 
 
 The ci-devant Major looked as black as thunder ; he Uked 
 not this sportive phrase ; it grated painfully on his ear, and it 
 was not tiU he had twice paced the length of the room, that he 
 felt able to renew the conversation. At length, however, he 
 said, and apparently with recovered good-humoiu:, " This is 
 siUy work, my love, squabbhng about which of us is capable of 
 carrying ou the war with the most skill. I don't believe we 
 should either of us prove deficient if we were fairly tried ; and 
 that, it is likely enough we shall be, and on a very handsome 
 scale, too, if we ever really get launched among the people you 
 talk of. I can assure you, my Barnaby, that to a man hke me, 
 it is a devihsh bore to be kept fiddle-faddling amongst such a 
 set as there are here. Come, let us talk 'em all over a little. 
 First, there's that giant of a general ; he is just the sort of 
 man, I take it, to make a great bluster beforehand, and then 
 be led by the nose by his wife when she has caught him ; so if 
 you contrive to keep well with your niece, he won't be much 
 in the way. Then there's that sort of a wandering Jew of a 
 man, that you told me such a long story about, Agnes's father ; 
 he is come home, isn't he, as rich as a nabob ? " 
 
 " He did not enter into any particulars, my dear Donny, 
 
A MEMORANDUM. 39 
 
 but he said something about being at last in comfortable cir- 
 cumstances, if I remember rightly. And I am sure no poor 
 man could have sent out such a present as he has done to 
 Patty." 
 
 " Well, then, that's all right. But I'll tell you who it is 
 that I reckon most upon in tliis affectionate family reunion that 
 you promise me ; for the truth is, I remember a little about the 
 young fello-w myself — I mean Stephenson, the younger brother, 
 Frederick Stephenson. I happened to know that his fortune 
 was about half as large again as his elder brother's. Didn't he 
 play sometimes ? I am almost sure I have heard so. 
 
 "I don't know about that, my dear, but it is very likely; 
 almost all men of fashion do — at last I have heard Miss Morrison 
 say so, over and over. But if you ask, because you think that 
 one of these days you should hke to play with him yourself, on 
 account of his being rich, which makes it so easy for him to 
 lose, m answer for it there will be no difficulty about that, so 
 intimate as we shall all be together — for I well remember he 
 was the most obhging, good-natured creature in the world. 
 Dear me ! I am sure I shall never forget our famoiis walk to 
 Bristol, when I was obhged to roU myself over and over in the 
 dust, to save my Kfe from that beast. Don't you remember how 
 excessively kind he was, running back to CMfton with Agnes, to 
 get a carriage for me ? " 
 
 This was the iirst direct allusion to any of their Clifton 
 adventures which had been made since their marriage, and a 
 perceptible frown agitated the eyebrows of Mr. O'Donagough. 
 His sharp-witted wife smiled aside as she remarked it. She 
 and her husband had been (as we know) vastly fond lovers ; 
 but there is a process which chemically takes place when 
 "sweets to the sweet" have been incautiously laid together, 
 that renders sour, what, before such too closely pent-up union, 
 had been altogether the reverse ; and it occasionally happens in 
 married life, that something analogous to this will occur. Mrs. 
 O'Donagough was still, perhaps, a Uttle on ilie fret, and it was 
 certainly no very sweet feeling which caused her to set down on a 
 private leaf of her memory's tablet a N.B., to the effect that 
 she knew how to plague her husband when he deserved it. 
 
 At that moment, however, she wiUingly let the subject 
 pass ; and, turning again to the copious waves of green velvet 
 which ilowed from chair to chair, reiterated her thankfulness, 
 that among all the other good giifts which nature and fortune 
 had bestowed on her, she possessed for a niece a Mrs. General 
 Hubert, who knew so perfectly well how to suit her taste and 
 dimensions in the purchase of a dress ! 
 
 Of course a correspondence so auspiciously begun, was not 
 permitted to drop by any neghgence on the part of Mrs. Dona- 
 
40 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 gough ; and the same good feeling which produced the first 
 reply from Berkeley-square, continued to dictate many more in 
 the same kind spirit of forgetfulness, as to everything that it 
 was disagreeable to remember. It is certainly possible that 
 both the General and his sweet wife indulged in this benevolent 
 sort of obhvion the more readily, from feeling a comfortable 
 degree of seovirity as to the continuance of Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 residence abroad. Both knew, though neither of them talked 
 about it, that it was next to impossible any man should have 
 married " the aunt Barnaby " from any other motive than a 
 wish to appropriate her Uttle fortune ; it therefore followed, 
 that Mr. O'Donagough was poor, and, if so, it was equally 
 certain, that what she possessed would not suffice to permit his 
 leaving the new country where he could "inhabit lax," the 
 paradise of corn and mutton, wliioh spread around him, in 
 order again, perhaps, to be jostled, while in search of a dinner, 
 in the old one — ergo, they would stay where they were. With 
 this persuasion to sustain and stimulate their good nature, 
 aided, too, by the kind-hearted sympathy and co-operation of 
 Mr. Willoughby, they continued for many years to testify their 
 good- will by letters and by gifts, the expectation and reception 
 of which formed the glory of Airs. O'Donagough's Van Diemen 
 existence, while her letters and presents in return were occa- 
 sionally the source of very harmless amusement among such as 
 remembered her. Mrs. Elizabeth Compton alone must be 
 excepted ; for she ceased not to declare with unvarying perti- 
 nacity, and it may be with something of undying bitterness, 
 that the having half the globe between them, was by no means 
 a suificient security against the possibility of annoyance from 
 such a source, and that nothing short of treating Mrs. Barnaby 
 as if civilly dead, could suffice to protect them securely from the 
 horrors of a remiiou with her. Slost Cassandra-Mke, however, 
 was the fate of the old lady's pungent eloquence. Everybody 
 listened to her with an incredulous smile ; and General Hubert 
 seemed even to enjoy the vivid pictures she sometimes drew of 
 scenes ensuing from the alarming lady's possible return. 
 
 "She will not come, aunt Betsy," he said; "but if she 
 should, where would the sting be now ? Gone, drawn, and 
 harmless for evermore ! Can she divorce us, aunt Betsy ? Do 
 you think that hkely ? " 
 
 " Agnes, your husband is quite young enough," was the old 
 lady's reply. " I never in all my reading met with a stronger 
 instance of the false reasoning of wrong-headed young love ! 
 May Providence keep you from this terrible woman, my dear 
 General, for it is quite clear you have not wit enough to guard 
 yourself — ^think if your sufferings from a Barnaby would not be 
 increased tenfold by seeing them shared by your wife ! " 
 
 But General Hubert shook Ma head, and only laughed at her. 
 
PATEENAL LOVE APPEARS. 41 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Yeaks wore away, Mr. Allen O'Donagough, as the good people 
 of Sydney persisted in calling Mm, derived very essential ad- 
 vantage from the widely boasted and letter-and-present-proved 
 patronage of such connections. During the last years of his 
 residence in New South Wales he obtained, probably from the 
 consideration this procured him, a place in one of the pubho 
 ofiB.ces, the salary of which was its least profit ; for it enabled 
 him to import advantageously various articles which he knew 
 how to dispose of at enormous profit, so that he became by 
 every day that passed over him a richer man. The benefits 
 which this same forgiving kindness on the part of Mrs. Hubert 
 conferred on her some time aunt Barnaby, might perhaps be 
 considered as greater still ; for (wishing to be on confidential 
 terms with my readers) it must be confessed that, had no such 
 connections as the Huberts existed in England, it is more than 
 probable that Mr. AUen O'Donagough, notwithstanding his 
 advance in all steady economical financial habits, might still 
 have been tempted to exhibit some immoral laxity of opinion 
 on the subject of marriage. But for the hope that the one of 
 all his professions which he loved the best, might be followed on 
 a higher ground than had ever yet been within his reach through 
 the influence of his charming Barnaby's connections, it is pretty 
 nearly certain that, when the time arrived at which he deemed 
 it convenient to recross the ocean, he would have found some 
 means or other of leaving his lady and daughter behind him. 
 These roving thoughts, however, gave way as the time ap- 
 proached to feehngs of a nobler and more ambitious kind. 
 Even Miss Martha O'Donagough, his fittle daughter, began by 
 degrees to take a stronger hold upon his paternal affections. 
 A¥hether arising from prolonged habits of cehbacy or a feehng 
 of doubt as to how long their personal intimacy might last, or 
 from 'any other cause, certain it is, that for the first nine or ten 
 years of the young lady's fife, his fatherly tenderness towards 
 her limited itself to cheruppings while still in the cradle, about 
 one pat on the head per week in the go-cart, and pretty frequent 
 notices that she was not to make a noise afterwards. But a 
 few weeks after the celebration of her tenth birthday, it chanced 
 that a large packet arrived from London. Among other articles, 
 it contained a complete walking-dress for Miss Martha, the 
 bonnet being fined and trimmed, contrary to the usual qmet 
 style of Mrs. Hubert's offerings, with particularly bright rose- 
 coloured satin. The turkey-cook is not more susceptible to the 
 
42 THE WIDOW MAERIED. 
 
 hue of red, than was Mrs. O'Donagough, The instant that 
 this well-packed article was cleared of its moorings, her rapture 
 at the sight of it became vehement. 
 
 "Matrimony has improTcd Agnes in one thing, that is 
 certain ! " she exclaimed. " It is plain that she knows how to 
 choose colours now, whatever she did formerly. I remember 
 when we were at Cheltenham together, that she perfectly 
 pestered me with her recommendations of dull-coloured silks 
 and ribbons. But look at this, O'Donny ! " (an affectionate 
 abbreviation this, adopted since the use of " Major " had been 
 abandoned). "Look at this lovely bonnet, O'Donny, and then 
 fancy how Martha wiU look in it ! " 
 
 This enchanting bonn4t, by the way, was chosen to gratify 
 a whim of aunt Betsy's. She chanced to be present when the 
 purchase was made, and begged so earnestly that this one might 
 be sent instead of any of its more dehcately-tinted fellows, 
 that her niece consented. 
 
 " Thank you, my dear, you have given me pleasure," said 
 the old lady. "It is agreeable to me to paint to my mind's 
 eye the face of a daughter of Mrs. O'Donagough's, when en- 
 livened by that glowing red. I have almost a mind to pay for 
 it myself, Agnes, tliat I might have the pleasure of pointing 
 out to you how truly the gift might assume the character of ■ 
 Mercy, by ' blessing her that gives, and her that takes.' Can 
 you not fancy how your aunt Barnaby wiU look when its glories 
 open upon her ? " 
 
 And the image which the old lady had just conjured up, 
 was as near as possible to the truth. The ci-devant aunt 
 Barnaby did appear to be in a state little short of ecstasy, as 
 she turned and re-turned it upon her clenched fist. 
 
 " Let us have her in this very nioment, my dear ! Do just 
 go out and call her, will you ? " 
 
 " No, my dear, I certainly wiU not," replied Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, dehberately, and, at the same time thrusting his arm to 
 the bottom of the box in search of newspapers, or anything 
 else he might chance to find. 
 
 "What a brute you do grow into!" retorted his wife. 
 "And if I go myself, how prettUy I shall iind all the things 
 rummaged about, shan't I ? " 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough deigned not to make any reply, but 
 having found two or three newspapers, was either really, or 
 seemingly, entirely absorbed in their contents. 
 
 Happily for the preservation of Mrs. O'Donagough's temper, 
 and the continuation of her enjoyment, the young lady in 
 question at this moment entered the room. Her eye instantly 
 caught sight of the rose-coloured ribbons, and every one who 
 had observed her countenance at that time, must have been 
 
THE NEW BONNET. 43 
 
 forcibly struck by its resemblance to that of her mother, 
 although in features perhaps she more resembled her father. 
 The httle girl had large wide-opened black eyes, which easily 
 kindled into considerable vehemence of expression. The shape 
 of her face was like that of her father's, which was large and 
 long ; her mouth and teeth, however, were those of her mother, 
 of ample dimensions, bright in colour, both as to the white and 
 the red, but having a sort of coarseness in the smile, which 
 might perhaps enhance its beauty in the judgment of some, 
 while it wholly destroyed it in that of others. The nose again 
 was that of her father's, high, hooked, and tln-eatening to 
 become of a size more advantageous to a male than to a female 
 face. Her hair was dark, and curled naturally and closely, 
 while her complexion was brilliant almost to excess, being hte- 
 rally, and with no allowance made for figures of speech, com- 
 posed of white and red. 
 
 In person she was stout, strong-hmbed, and very tall for her 
 age, and on the whole, presented an appearance which her mother 
 had the comfort of feeling was very httle short of perfection. 
 
 " Oh my ! what a beautiful bonnet ! " exclaimed Miss Mar- 
 tha, darting forward to seize upon it. " It is no good, mamma, 
 your holding it up that way out of reach, for it must be mine 
 "and nobody else's, because I am certain sure you could not poke 
 your great head into it." 
 
 "It is for you, my precious queen," repUed her mother; 
 " but it is I must have the joy of tying it under your beautiful 
 chin. Don't crush the ribbons, darhng, for your life ! " 
 
 With great docihty, and manifesting considerable powers of 
 reflection, the child stood still while this operation of tying was 
 performed, and then made an effort to bound from beneath the 
 hands of her mother, in order to view herself in a httle glass 
 which hung between the two windows of the apartment. 
 
 " Stay one instant, my angel ! " exclaimed Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, holding her ; " I never did, no never in my whole hfe, Mr. 
 O'Donagough, see anything one quarter so beautiful as Patty 
 looks in that bonnet ! For God's sake, leave the news for one 
 moment to look at her, and teU me how you shaU Uke to show 
 off such a face as that in London ! " 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough graciously condescended to lift his eyes, 
 and fix them on the little Patty, and for the first time in her 
 life really thought her very well-looking. There is something, 
 even at ten years old, in the consciousness of having a large 
 quantity of bright rose-colour reflecting itseK upon one's com- 
 plexion, which, together with a maternal assurance that one is 
 the most beautiful creature in the world, tends to harmonise the 
 features, and give a very sweet expression to the countenance. 
 Little Patty stood peaceably for a moment, with her hands 
 
44 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 before her, and her long eyelaslies modestly cast down, so that 
 when unable to resist the longing desire to look at herself for 
 another moment, she bounded away to the further end of the 
 room, her father said, with great feeling, 
 
 " Yes 1 by heaven ! I do think she will make a devilish fine 
 girl after all ; and it ■will be a good thing if she does, I can 
 promise you." 
 
 " A good thing ? I beheve so, indeed ! Fancy such eyes 
 and complexion as that, with a general's wife for a cousin, to 
 take her out, and I don't know how many ladies of title to talk 
 of, to all her partners and everybody besides ! My dear Donny, 
 if we can but contrive to manage our affairs so as to make a 
 tolerable show when we get to England, take my word for it, 
 that girl will make a match that will perfectly astonish you. 
 I am quite sure of it, perfectly certain. I have seen a great 
 deal of life, and what is of more consequence, I have reflected a 
 great deal on what I have seen. When I talk of Mrs. General 
 Hubert's bringing Martha out, I mean nothing more, I assure 
 you, than the merely taking her to com-t, and to a few other 
 topping places, where just at first, perhaps, I shan't manage to 
 get invited. But as to everything else, everything that concerns 
 her general introduction among young men of fashion and large 
 estates, I would not accept the services of anybody in the 
 whole kingdom of England ! " 
 
 During this first burst of conscious excellence from his wife, 
 Mr. O'Donagough continued his assiduous study of the news- 
 papers, and Miss Martha an almost equally assiduous study of 
 her own Httle person in the glass. The difference between the 
 degrees of intensity with which these occupations were carried 
 on was this — the gentlemen really heard not a single word that 
 was said ; whereas the young lady did not lose one. 
 
 " I am taller than Kitty Jones, ma,'" said Miss Martha, 
 standing on tiptoe. 
 
 " Yes, yes, my dear ! you will be tall enough, and beautiful 
 enough too, you darhng angel ! Only you must always mind 
 every word I say to you, for else neither beauty or taUness either 
 will do you any good in getting a husband. Now take off the 
 bonnet, Patty. Take it off this instant, when I bid you." 
 
 Nevertheless Patty persevered in retaining her station before 
 the glass, first making a pendent bow hang a little on one side,' 
 and then trying its ever-charming effect when preponderating 
 on the other. Considering the age of the little girl, it was 
 really curious to watch her; and any observing student of 
 natural history who had done so, would have perceived precisely 
 the same phenomena, which it is, so interesting to foUow, in the 
 young of all the countless tribes which form the animal creation, 
 from man to a polypus. In each, the leading instinct of the 
 
INCIPIENT VANITY. 45 
 
 specif peeps out as easily, and with the same providential and 
 unerring certainty, as the distinctive peculiarities of its organic 
 formation ; furnishing to a rightly-constituted mind, the most 
 satisfactory proof that each is provided with exactly that sort 
 of acuteness most necessary for its safety and well-being. 
 
 But it was not in such subtle reasonings that the intellectual 
 energies of Mrs. O'Donagough exhausted themselves. She 
 marked the more obvious trait of disobedience in httle Patty's 
 delay ; and, stepping with unexpected suddenness towards her, 
 with one decisive hand removed the bonnet, and with the other 
 bestowed on the offender a very effective box on the ear. 
 
 In many respects this promising little girl appeared ad- 
 vanced beyond her age ; and one proof of this was her having 
 exchanged the childish scream with 'which little girls usually 
 indicate their averseness to being cuffed, for an indignant 
 frown, which spoke as great an inclination to cuff again, as it 
 was possible for a young lady to demonstrate to her mamma. 
 
 This was a great rehef to her father and mother ; for before 
 this incipient sturdiness of character appeared, it- was by sturdi- 
 ness of voice that her vigour, both of body and soul, declared 
 itself, often rendering the needful castigations of Mrs. 
 O'Donagough a sort of pubhc nuisance in the street where 
 she lived. 
 
 But this was entirely over. Little Martha O'Donagough 
 had cried her last cry for being beat, and now flashed her great 
 eyes at her mother in a style that clearly foretold what their 
 powers would be hereafter. 
 
 But, though Patty did not scream, the concussion roused 
 the attention of her papa. 
 
 " What's that for, ma'am? " he said hastily, and thereby 
 for the first time evincing such an inclination to take the part of 
 his daughter, against his wife, as showed that the httle lady's 
 good looks in her new bonnet had produced a very powerful 
 effect upon his mind. 
 
 " Put on the bonnet again, Mrs. O'Donagough," said he ; 
 " she looked exceedingly well in it, and I want to see it 
 again." 
 
 It was impossible that the anger, either of mother or daugh- 
 ter, could resist this novel and very pleasing ebulKtion of 
 paternal admiration ; they both recovered their good-humour 
 instantly ; the bonnet was again tried on, again did httle Patty 
 "look beautiful with all her might," and a general feehng 
 throughout the family of that beneficent arrangement of nature 
 which binds a whole race together, let distance separate them 
 ever so widely, caused the father to say, addressing his wife, 
 
 " Well, old girl ! I won't deny that nieces and nephews are 
 good for somethSig." "While she rejoined, 
 
46 THE WIDOW MAKRIBD. 
 
 " You may depend upon it, Donny, that blood is always 
 thicker than water ; " and the youthful Martha completed the 
 accord by exclaiming, 
 
 " I am sure as I should like the people fis sent this bonnet, 
 better than anybody else in the whole world ! " 
 
 From that day forward Mr. Allen O'Donagough continued 
 to demonstrate a very marked degree of attachment to his 
 young daughter. He even in some degree exerted himself to 
 cultivate her mind, and improve her manners. Not, indeed, 
 that he, at any time, submitted himself to the drudgery of 
 giving regular lessons ; such an attempt would have been alto- 
 gether inconsistent with his habits, whether of pleasure or of 
 business. But, apparently, he knew the value of that best 
 mode of education, which consists in the constant and gradual 
 inoculation of a parent's principles and opinions into the mind 
 of a child ; and, as far as it w^ possible to judge of one so 
 young, the result of this system in the case of Miss O'Dona- 
 gough, confirmed its often-attested efficacy most completely ; 
 for in mind, as well as in body, she bore a blended resemblance 
 to both her parents. 
 
 The last year of their long residence in New South Wales 
 passed rapidly, for its term seemed within reasonable reach of 
 hope and expectation. The bringing to a settlement and close 
 aU Mr. O'Donagough's very profitable speculations, left him 
 little leisure for idle repinings that the desired hour did not 
 approach more quickly ; and the pushing forward the orna- 
 mental part of their daughter's education, as completely occu- 
 pied his wife. Both parents were anxious to take advantage of 
 her premature height, and womanly appearance, in order to 
 introduce her in the very first opening blossom of beauty. 
 
 " She is but thirteen and a bit, Donny," said Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough to her husband, one evening that they were sitting tete-a 
 tete before retiring for the night ; "I know that as well as any 
 one can tell me ; but I'm not going to let her pass for a chUd, 
 ■ for aU that. There are some mothers of my age, and looking as 
 I do, who would see her a nun before they'd make themselves 
 older than needs must, by seeming to have a grown-up daughter. 
 But I'm above any such nonsense. There is nothing to be got 
 by it now, whatever there n\ight be if I was to happen to be left 
 a widow again, and, therefore, I'm quite determined that Patty 
 shall be dressed at once like a young woman. 
 
 " I shall not make any objection to that, I promise you," 
 replied her husband. " She is a most uncommonly fine girl — - 
 just the right sort, full of spirit and cleverness. Not that I'U 
 promise you, Mrs. O'D., to marry her to the first man that asks. 
 If she turns out as I expect, it wQl answer a great deal better to 
 let her take time." 
 
IMPORTANT OBITUARY. 47 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough was about to make a somewhat lively- 
 reply, but checked herself, wisely remembering, that if a good 
 match offered, she and Patty between them could manage 
 matters easy enough, let all the fathers in the world do what 
 they would to prevent them. 
 
 And now the last busy month arrived, and fatiguing enough 
 was the work they had to go through, in selling to the best 
 profit all that was to be left behind, and packing in the least 
 space all they intended to parry with them. In the midst of all 
 this bustle, however, Miss Patty found the way to escape from 
 doing anything she did not hke, and having somewhat wilfully 
 spoilt every article upon which her mother had attempted to 
 employ her young fingers, she was permitted to escape from 
 amidst the hampers and boxes which filled the house, in order 
 to enjoy some farewell gossiping with the young Sheepshanks, 
 and make their hearts ache by the lively contrast she set before 
 them, between their prospects and her own. 
 
 It was during her absence that the last English newspapers 
 they were likely to see before they left Sydney, arrived. Not- 
 withstanding the bustle he was in, Mr. O'Donagough set him- 
 self down upon the corner of a trunk, while, with his usual 
 eagerness in the perusal, he began to run through the interesting 
 columns. His lady, meanwhile. Occupied at the other end of 
 the room in carefully packing the stores which were to console 
 them on their voyage, hardly lifted her eyes from the huge 
 hamper she was filling, but, with exemplary perseverance, went 
 on adding pickle-pot to pickle-pot, and sweetmeat-jar to sweet- 
 meat-jar, without ever pausing to ask if there were any news. 
 
 She was presently rewarded, however, by her husband crying 
 out, " My Bamaby ! — our plottings prosper ! The father of 
 O'Donagough is dead. That old feUow was positively the only 
 person living of whom I was much afraid. I can now under- 
 take to prevent man, woman, or child, from recognising me 
 against my inclination ; and may snap my fingers, for instance, 
 at the idea of any of your kith or kin remembering that they 
 had ever seen me before. But I did not feel so sure, nor any- 
 thing like it, about that old man's natural affection, as folks 
 call it. It is a weight off my mind, I promise you." 
 
 " It's all the better, there's no doubt of that," replied his 
 wife, pushing lustily, to insinuate a salted tongue between two 
 choice specimens of Sydney cheese ; " but with your cleverness, 
 I can't say I should have been much afraid either of the old lord 
 or of any one else." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear, for your good opinion ; and, per- 
 haps, you are not much out either. But I will tell you what 
 this news will make me do, which I should not have ventured 
 upon without. I shall always call myself, for the future, AUen 
 
48 
 
 THE WIDOW MAnrtlED. 
 
 O'Donagough. If anything unaccountable did happen, it might 
 serve to prove that I did not pass under a false name ; not to 
 mention that there may be more than one of the Sydney folks 
 who may have need to write to me about sundry Kttle matters 
 of merchandise, which I cannot quite give up as yet, and they 
 will infallibly address me under that name." 
 
 " But don't you think, my dear, that Agnes and her proud 
 husband, and my sister Peters and her family, if we should ever 
 fall in with them, would be very likely, >if they saw you, and 
 heard your name at the same time, to let one remind them of 
 the other somehow?" said Mrs. O'Donagough, who, in that 
 quarter, at least, was fully as anxious as her husband that he 
 should not be recognised. 
 
 " They may be reminded of me, my dear Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 without knowing me," was the reply ; and as it was spoken 
 ■\vith one of those peculiar smiles which she often saw on the 
 face of her husband, and always with the feeling that they meant 
 more than she could understand, she turned again her undivided 
 attention to the packing, and by dint of her great exertion and 
 perseverance, found herself on thp wharf from whence they were 
 to take their departure, with her husband on one side, her 
 daughter on the other, and not a single packet either missing or 
 forgotten. 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 Notwithstanding that the wind was favourable, the vessel 
 seaworthy, the crew civil, and, better than all, the land towards 
 which they were making such rapid way, the very land of 
 promise and of hope, Mrs. O'Donagough and Miss O'Dona- 
 gough too, were, to use a poet's phrase, "very, very sick."' 
 That they should be very, very cross too, was, on the whole, 
 qidte excusable, because it is certain that under the influence 
 of the first feeling, everything in heaven and on earth, and the 
 water under the earth, is sure to generate the last. 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough, who was totally unconscious of 
 any sensation of the kind, was very civil to his wife, and atten- 
 tive to his daughter for about half an hour after the malady 
 seized them ; but he then became weary of the repetition of 
 attitude, and so on, wMch was quite unavoidable on the part of 
 the ladies, but certainly uninteresting, to say the least of it, to 
 everybody else ; and he therefore took himself off to the very 
 furthest extremity of the ship from that occupied by the suffering 
 womankind, and there comfortably seated on a chicken-coop, 
 with a cigar in his mouth, he dozed in luxury, half meditating, 
 and half dreanaing of Crockford's. 
 
THE FAVOURITE OF THE SHIP. 49 
 
 Poor Mrs. O'Donagough was greatly to be pitied diiriiig 
 nearly tlie whole of the voyage. It was so provoking to see the 
 pickles and the sweetmeats, over the preparation and the pack- 
 ing of which she had toiled, gradually melting before her eyes, 
 without her having ever been able, for a single moment, to 
 venture them within her mouth! Miss Patty, however, got 
 much better before she had been long at sea, and might soon be 
 seen climbing up upon the tafifrail, partly to receive the favouring 
 breeze upon her face, and partly, perhaps, for the purpose of 
 making some of the young sailors come and tell her that she 
 must take care not to tumble overboard, and let the fishes pick 
 out her pretty eyes. 
 
 Among the crew of the Atalanta (which was the name of 
 the fine merchant-ship that bore the Allen O'Donagoughs across 
 the ocean) was a lad apparently about nineteen or twenty years 
 of age, who very soon attracted the particular attention of Miss 
 Patty ; nay, even Mrs. Allen O'Donagough, in her intervals of 
 convalescence, more than once honoured hiTn by a stare, that 
 decidedly spoke of admiration. 
 
 This youth's universal appellative was " Jack,'' and, to 
 judge by the multitude of occasions in every day, upon which 
 the name resounded from stem to stern, he was a person of very 
 considerable importance in the manoeuvring of the vessel. This 
 circumstance taken singly, spoke well for the skill and nautical 
 superiority of the boy ; yet there were other circvunstances which 
 might have led those who watched him closely to doubt whether 
 he were indeed so very accomphshed a sailor. For, in the first 
 place, nobody ever saw him go aloft ; and though, as we have 
 said, he was continually called upon by name, more particularly 
 by the sailors than the ofiicers of the ship, whenever they were 
 in want of a hand, it not unfrequently happened, when he 
 obeyed the summons and set to work upon the business assigned 
 him, a roar of laughter from his companions accompanied and 
 followed his exertions. This, however, might have proceeded 
 solely from his great popularity among them, and from the very 
 particidar pleasure they all appeared to take in his society. 
 
 He was unquestionably one of those happy mortals, blessed 
 by nature with the patent privilege of propitiating the good will 
 of all on whom he turned his bright blue eye. There was no 
 resisting its gay playful glance, nor the smile either, by which 
 he displayed the most perfect set of teeth ever set in a mortal 
 head, almost every time he *as spoken to. 
 
 It is a long voyage from New South Wales to England ; and 
 even those who are best in health, and gayest in spirits, can 
 hardly fail to experience that degree of weariness, which makeS 
 every person, and every occurrence within reach of observation, 
 important, ilr. Allen O'Donagough himself, though fully 
 
50 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 enjoying those best reliefs to tedium, the breakfasts, dinners, 
 and suppers furnished by the careful preparations of his less 
 happy spouse, so far shared this universal feeling as to amuse 
 himself occasionally by joining with Jack in his good-humoured 
 efforts to amuse Patty. 
 
 No sooner was the breakfast hour passed, than the young 
 lady, let the weather be what it would, was sure to be seen 
 climbing the cabin-stairs, in order to get a game at ship-biUiards 
 with Jack. Nor was Jack slow in his efforts to meet her wishes. 
 No sooner did he perceive her bright eyes roving about the 
 deck in search of him, than he sung out to any of the crew who 
 happened to be within reach, " Avast there, Tom ! " or Dick, or 
 Harry, or whomever else it might chance to be, " Avast there ! 
 and hand us a bit of chalk for the young lady." And a bit of 
 chalk, to mark the series of circles that the game required, was 
 never long wfiited for ; nay, so eager were the good seamen of 
 the Atalanta to obhge either the young lady or their bUthe 
 comrade, that few among them failed, when thus called upon to 
 use the chalk as well as furnish it ; and the ring within ring was 
 often fairly drawn upon the deck, each marked with its respec- 
 tive number, and the circular slices of wood that served as bowls, 
 placed ready beside them, before Jack had concluded his first 
 parley with Miss Patty, or answered half the questions respect- 
 ing wind, weather, the ship's progress, and the flying fish, which 
 she always came ready primed to ask. 
 
 As soon as the game was fairly begun, Mr. Allen O'Dona- 
 gough might generally be seen approaching, cigar in mouth, to 
 watch the progress of it. Had he carefully marked the expres- 
 sion of his young daughter's countenance as he drew near, he 
 might perhaps have perceived that she would have been quite 
 as well pleased to keep Jack and the bowls to herself; but 
 probably he did not mark it at all, and accordingly obtruded 
 himself without scruple upon their game, generally proposing 
 to set himself and his daughter against Jack, who was a great 
 adept, and often appearing to take the most lively interest in 
 the result. 
 
 By means of this constant practice, Mr. Allen O'Donagough 
 himself acquired by degrees very considerable skill in the game, 
 and at length was apt to leave poor Patty out of it altogether, 
 till the amusement was evidently become as important to his 
 daily existence as to hers. 
 
 It was not long ere Mr. Allen O'Donagough's habit of 
 bringing all his inteUeot to bear upon every game, whether of 
 skill or chance, in which he was engaged, placed him fully on 
 an equality with Jack in that of ship-billiards ; and then he 
 began greatly to long for a bet to excite anew the interest. A 
 feeling, pretty nearly allied to shame, enabled him for a few 
 
A CHALLENGE. 51 
 
 days to resist tlie temptation he felt to challenge Jack for a 
 penny a game ; but it lasted no longer, and setting all con- 
 siderations of his own superior rank aside, he fairly addressed 
 the lad in the language of perfect equahty : — " I say, Jack ! 
 what do you say, my boy, to our trying our luck for a penny a 
 game? " 
 
 " With all my heart, sir, if you wUl," was the reply, and to 
 it they set, notwithstanding the openly-expressed displeasure of 
 Patty, who was fain to console herself by standing very close to 
 her favourite when it was her father's turn to throw, and by 
 romping with him a little now and then for the recovery of the 
 bowl, when both stooped together to pick it up. 
 
 Mr. AUen O'Donagough was unquestionably much too rich 
 a man to make the pennies for which he now played, of impor- 
 tance to him ; nevertheless, habit, and a sort of instinctive 
 ardour for success, even where success mattered not, led him to 
 exert himself so effectually, that he speedily became the better 
 player of the two. This appeared to pique the yormg sailor, 
 and he likewise was frequently seen practising the game alone. 
 At these times no one ever heard " Jack " called for, nor did any 
 of the necessary duties of his profession appear in the least 
 degree to interfere with his amusement. Poor sick Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, whose greatest comfort was to have a parcel of 
 coats and cloaks placed on the deck for her to lie upon, frequently 
 amused herself by the hour together in watching both the prac- 
 tice and the game also, tUl at last it struck her that Jack, who, 
 making allowance for his youth, and his wearing neither 
 favoris or mustaches, she considered as decidedly the handsomest 
 person, she had ever seen — it struck her, I say, that Jack must 
 either be the very idlest fellow that ever took service on ship- 
 board ; or, that he was not the mere common sailor he appeared. 
 
 No sooner had this last conjecture crossed her brain, than her 
 curiosity became roused, and exerting herself vigorously, she 
 rose from her recumbent posture, and dragged her languid hmbs 
 to the spot where Captain Wilkins, the commander of the vessel, 
 stood leaning listlrasly over the ship's side. 
 
 Mrs. AUen O'Donagough leant over the ship's side too. 
 " Good morning to you, captain," said she, turning up her veil 
 that she might both hear and see him more at her ease. " How 
 are we getting on to-day ? " 
 
 " Capital well, ma'am," he replied, " eight knots an hour, 
 
 " That's good hearing, Captain "Wilkins, for one that makes 
 such a bad sailor as I do. And talking of sailors, do teU me 
 something about that young man that they call Jack. I never 
 saw such an odd, irregular young fellow in my Mfe. Sometimes 
 to hear the sailors caUing Mm, fcst here, then there, as violently 
 
 i>2 
 
52 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 as if the -whole safety of the ship depended on his coming, one 
 might think he was just the best seaman on board. Then at 
 other times he will do nothing but amuse himself for hours and 
 hours together with tossing along that bit of wood, as he is 
 doing now. Do turn round and look at him. Captain Wilkins, 
 and tell me if that's the way for a sailor to earn his wages ? " 
 
 The captain turned his head for a moment to look in the 
 direction Mrs. O'Donagough indicated, and then replacing 
 himself in his former position, replied carelessly — 
 
 " It is only because we go on so well, ma'am. Sailors have 
 but little to do in fair weather." 
 
 " liumph ! " quoth Mrs. AUen O'Donagough, seemingly but 
 little satisfied by the explanation ; but replacing her folded arms 
 upon the side of the vessel she contemplated the floating nautili, 
 shining with their violet and silver rigging in the sun, as fixedly 
 as if she were really thinking of them ; but it was no such thing ; 
 her thoughts had never swerved for a moment from Jack. His 
 handsome face, and his tall slight figure, which, spite of his 
 canvas trowsers and checked shirt, had an air, a look, that 
 seemed sO' — she was quite at a loss for a word to express what 
 she meant, but had she been blessed with her friend Miss Morri- 
 son's famiharity with the tongues, she would tmquestionably 
 have added " destengay." And then all the sailors, though they 
 called him Jack so familiarly, doing just what he bid them with 
 the chalk every day, and more than all, his flying fuU gallop to 
 handle a rope now and then, just as if it was done for fun, 
 though as to scouring the decks, or climbing up those horrid 
 dangerous ladders of rope^or any other sailor work, that was 
 anywise disagreeable, he no more seemed to have a notion of 
 doing it than her daughter Martha. AH this was puzzhng in 
 the extreme, and understand it she would, or else know the 
 reason why. 
 
 " But I say, captain," she began again, but turning her head / 
 a little at the same moment, she perceived that, most uncourte- ' 
 ously, Captain WUkins had left her side, and was no longer iir 
 sight. 
 
 " Vulgar brute ! " murmured Mrs. O'Donagough in great 
 indignation. " But if he is off, because he won't teU me what 
 I want to know, I'll be a match for him yet." 
 
 On first screwing her courage to this enterprise of further 
 inquiry, she turned her eyes towards the head of the vessel as 
 the point where she was at once the most certain of encounter- 
 ing some of the men, and of not encountering their captain. 
 But, poor soul! the undertaking was greatly beyond her 
 strength, and after making a few tottering steps in the direction 
 she wished to take, she was fain to stop short, and seat 
 herself. 
 
GOSSIP WITH BLACK BILLY. 53 
 
 But though her -walk before the mast was given up, her 
 inquisitorial project was not ; and as soon as she had rested her- 
 self sufficiently once more to give her poor reeling brain fair play, 
 she bethought her of a scheme worth a dozen of the last, and 
 forthwith proceeded to put it in execution. No manoeuvring 
 was required for this, in any degree at variance with her feeble 
 condition, for it was only necessary that she should confess her- 
 self to be as iU as she really felt, and call for the steward to help 
 her down stairs to her berth. Black Billy came at her call, and 
 with his usual ready civihty sustained the weight of the lady's 
 heavy arm till he had safely landed her in the cabin. 
 
 Black Billy was an excellent steward, and to all the multi- 
 tudinous quaUiications essentially necessary to deserving this 
 character, he added a charm, without which all the rest would 
 have been imperfect — for Black Billy was a most acoomphshed 
 gossip. 
 
 " Thank you, Billy ! thank you ! " sighed the qualmish lady, 
 as soon as she had placed her uncomfortable person on the black 
 horsehair sofa. " But don't go away yet, Billy ! I want to give 
 you half a dollar, because you are always so good natured to 
 my daughter and me." 
 
 ' " Tanky, mam," returned Billy, his eyes flashing at sight of 
 the dearly-loved coin. "Madam want itty drop som'at goody 
 goody ?" 
 
 " Why, I shouldn't care, Billy, if I did have-half a glass of 
 very, ue?-?/ weak cold rum-and- water." 
 
 BiUy was rattling amongst his>. bottles and glasses in a 
 moment ; and presently, returning from the mysterious hole in 
 which all the materiel for his important office was lodged, he 
 presented the goody goody draught to Mrs. O'Donagough, with 
 an air that would not have disgraced the chef of Verey's 
 establishment. 
 
 " Thank you, BiUy, thank you ! " reiterated the kind- 
 spoken lady, adding, after a sip or two, " It is very comfortable 
 in&eed ! But don't go, BiUy ; you shall have the glass in one 
 moment, and then there will be no danger of its getting broke." 
 
 BiUy obediently stationed himself before her, and resp3ct- 
 fiiUy waited, plate in hand, to receive her glass. 
 
 But Mrs. O-'Donagough was in no humour to despatch its 
 reviving contents hastily. " You make the best toddy I ever 
 tasted, BiUy. I am sure you are quite a treasure to the ship. 
 How long have you been on board her, BiUy ? " 
 
 " Dis is de fust woyage, please, mam." 
 
 " You seem to have a nice civil crew on board, Billy." 
 
 " Yes, please, mam ; aU but nasty filthy negur cook ; and we 
 must put up wid he, mam, 'cause you know he be but a beastly 
 negur." 
 
64 THE WIDOW MAI^KIED. 
 
 " Tliat Jack, as you call him, seems a good natured lad, 
 with always a merry word for everybody. l5o you know any- 
 thing about him, Billy? " resumed the lady. 
 
 "Oh! es, mam," replied BiUy, with a very broad grin, 
 " I knows all about em." 
 
 "Do you, BiUy?" replied Mrs. O'Donagough, eagerly; 
 " I am very glad of it, for I want to hear all about him. Who 
 is he, Billy ? And what is he ? Something out of the common 
 way, I think ; ins't he now, Billy ? " 
 
 This was said in the playful coaxing tone, generally used 
 by people who pique themselves upon their powers of cross- 
 examination. 
 
 Billy upon this lowered his voice to a very confidential tone, 
 as he replied ; " Now beant he a rum un, mam ? He be de 
 oldest boy ebber come aboard, as couldn't go aloft." 
 
 " But why can he not go aloft, Billy ? that looks as if he 
 had never been bred as a sailor ; doesn't it ? " 
 
 Billy shook his head, but said nothing. 
 
 " Now do tell me, Billy, you must know," continued Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, " wTiy did he come aboard dressed like a 
 sailor ? " 
 
 " Jack, stupy lubber, wery stupy lubber, mam," said Billy, 
 looking extremely sagacious. 
 
 "Yes, yes, Billy, so he is perhaps, and something besides 
 that into the bargain." 
 
 " Es, mam, es," replied Billy, putting his finger to his nose, 
 "so he bees." 
 
 Mrs. AUen O'Donagough now thought the moment was 
 come ; and throwing herself forward on her seat, and raising 
 her eager eyes to the face of the negro, she exclaimed, " What 'I 
 dear Billy ! for God's sake tell me what ? " 
 
 A very comic expression took possession of the shining face 
 that was bent down to meet hers : but, though the fellow 
 grinned from ear to ear, it was with a tone of great solemnity 
 that he repHed, " That bees a secret, mam ! " 
 
 " Poh ! fiddle-de-de for a secret, Billy, among friends ; teU 
 me what it is, there's a good fellow." 
 
 Billy grinned again, shut up his eyes very close for about 
 half a minute, and then said, " Him bees a reg'lar crocodile." 
 
 " A crocodile, you black fool I " cried Mra. O'Donagough, 
 losing all patience, " if you tliink to treat a white lady pas- 
 senger in that manner, and not get flogged for it, you are 
 altogether out. If you don't tell me this moment all you know 
 about that boy who they call Jack, I'U inform the captain that 
 your behaviour is too impertinent to be borne, and we'll soon 
 see what comes of that, master BiUy." 
 
 Billy tried to look dismal, but his ivory teeth would make 
 
MRS. o'donagough out of temper. 55 
 
 themselves seen in spite of him. However, he very soberly 
 took up the glass which the lady had just before set down empty, 
 and very decorously named the number of pennies she was to be 
 pleased to pay for the same. This she knew was inevitable, 
 such being the regulation on board the good ship Atalanta. 
 Fortunately for her feelings, at the moment Mrs. O'Donagough 
 chanced to have the exact sum ready in her pocket, in large 
 copper coin, and drawing the pieces out, she raised her arm, 
 and, with all the strength she had, flung them, with a tolerably 
 steady aim, in the face of Billy. 
 
 Insult to a negro, if the tortured flesh quiver not beneath it, 
 is never very deeply felt ; so BUly only shook his woolly sconce 
 as if it had been exposed to a shower of hail, and without any 
 symptom of iU humour, picked up the coin and retired. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough felt very ill, very iU indeed. A violent 
 fit of anger is one of the worst accidents that can occur in a 
 case of sea-sickness. It was quite as much as the poor lady 
 could do to get to the state corner (for the best arranged mer- 
 chant-ships can hardly be said to have state cabins) in which 
 her berth was constructed; and having reached it, there she 
 remained, quietly enough, for at least three hours ; the latter 
 part of which time, however, was, happily for her, relieved by a 
 tolerably sound nap — the greatest blessing that kind Heaven can 
 send to a sufferer in her condition. 
 
 She awakened from it greatly refreshed, and sufficiently her- 
 self again, to shp off her bed, arrange her ruffled garments, add 
 to her dress a wrapping shawl that she knew gave her an air of 
 dignity, and then, with her parasol in hand, she mounted the 
 companion-way in search of the captain. She found him 
 standing with his arms behind him, still watching Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough and Jack at their everlasting game ; while Miss Patty, 
 as usual, was consoling herself for her exclusion from it, by fol- 
 lowing Jack's every movement with her eyes, and endeavouring 
 with all her might to make him cheat her papa. 
 
 It might be presumed from external symptoms, that every 
 emotion of anger disagreed very violently with the sensitive 
 frame of Mrs. O'Donagough ; for it invariably caused an appear- 
 ance of swelling over her whole person, and she now approached 
 the group, who were amusing themselves on the quarter-deck, 
 with a gait and movement, nearly resembling those of a stately 
 turkey-cock, when some circumstance has in like manner ruffled 
 his plumage and his temper. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough had not lost flesh during her residence 
 in New South Wales ; on the contrary, indeed, the greatest 
 change which her appearance had undergone during the fifteen 
 years of her absence from her native shores, arose from the 
 general enlargement of her person, and there was now, there- 
 
56 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 fore, something exceedingly striking and impressive in her aspect 
 when under the influence of any indignant feehng. 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough of course knew these symptoms 
 well, and adopting his usual demeanour upon such occasions, 
 appeared, instead of seeing her half as big again as usual, not to 
 see her at all. But he need not have given himself the trouble 
 of feigning, for he had nothing whatever to do with her present 
 emotion, while the captain, who had continued to stand inno- 
 cently unsuspicious, and without taking the least care of 
 himself, within reach of her arm, was the sole object of her 
 attention. 
 
 It was gently, however, that she extended that arm, and 
 laid hold of his. " Captain Wilkins," said she, in a tone of 
 voice which, notwithstanding her inward agitation, was more 
 than usually civil ; " Captain Wilkins, wiU you be so kind as to 
 let me speak to you for half a moment ?" 
 
 Though a very good sort of fellow in many ways. Captain 
 Wilkins had less of that devoted and undisoriminating gallantry 
 to the fair sex, which is usually found in men of his profession, 
 than Mrs. O'Donagough could have wished ; she was quite 
 aware of this, and did not scruple to confess to anybody who 
 would Hsten to her, that Captain Wilkins was no particular 
 favourite of hers. The captain, on his side, might have been 
 aware of this also, or he might not ; but be that as it may, he 
 did not like Mrs. O'Donagough at all : and when, soon after 
 they set sail, the iirst mate remarked to him that he thought 
 Madame O'Donagough would still be a capital fine woman, if 
 she was not so unaccountably big, the captain replied, " There's 
 no accounting for taste, Mr. Happerton, but to my fancy, she is 
 altogether the most sprawling pattern of a female that I ever 
 looked at on sea or land." 
 
 When, therefore, he felt Mrs. O'Donagough's gentle touch, 
 and heard her invitation to a tete-a-tete, he looked as if he would 
 not have been at all sorry if his more easily pleased first mate 
 could have taken the duty instead of him. However, he was 
 much too civil to say so, and bending his head with some- 
 thing between a nod and a bow, replied, " At your pleasure, 
 ma'am." 
 
 " I must detain you one instant, sir,'' said the lady, hasten- 
 ing towards the retirement offered by a seat on the opposite side 
 of the quarter-deck ; " just sit down here one moment, and you 
 shaU hear quietly what I have got to say." i 
 
 " I prefer standing, ma'am, I thank ye," rephed the captain, 
 placing himself before her at the distance of about five feet. 
 
 " Dear me, captain ! I don't want to bawl out so that the 
 whole ship's crew shall hear me, and I shan't poison you, I sup- 
 pose, if you do come a httle nearer." 
 
A CHARGE AGAINST BLACK BILLY. 57 
 
 Upon this, Captain Wilkins made a step, but not a very long 
 one, in advance, and again placed himself in act to hear. Mrs. 
 O'Donagough felt as if she would have liked to throw him over- 
 board ; but this did not prevent her again addressing him in a 
 very civil, and almost in a coaxing tone, as she said, " My dear 
 Captain WOkins, I think it is my bounden duty not to keep you 
 in the dark respecting the extraordinary impertinence of your 
 black steward. I am quite sure, sir, that were you aware of it, 
 you would take instant measures to prevent anything of the 
 kind from ever occurring again ; and therefore it is that I make 
 this point of speaking to you. Is it your wish, sir, that your 
 black negro-servant should insult your passengers, your lady 
 passengers. Captain Wilkins?" 
 
 Now, the truth was, that during Mrs. O'Donagough's re- 
 freshing slumber. Black Billy had been beforehand with her, 
 and recorded to his master the whole scene which had passed 
 between them ; a statement in which the Captain, without any 
 undue partiaUty towards his steward, felt entire confidence, 
 both from his knowledge of the parties, and from all the circum- 
 stances connected with Mrs. O'Donagough's curiosity, and 
 Billy's resistance to it. 
 
 However, his answer betrayed nothing of all this, for he 
 only replied, "Oh! no, ma'am, neither black nor white, we 
 must have no insultings." 
 
 " You had better not, sir, I can tell you, as far as regards 
 myself. I presume that you are in some degree aware, though 
 not so much as you might be, perhaps, that my daughter and my- 
 self are not to be looked upon at aU in the same light as any other 
 person on board ; nor my husband, Mr. O'Donagough, either, 
 of course. My family and connections, sir, fill the very highest 
 rank in English society, and a young lady who is going home, 
 I may say for the express purpose of being presented at court, 
 is hardly to be considered as the same sort of thing as a Sydney 
 grazier's wife, or the daughter of a felon consigned to her cousins 
 in England, like that flaunting miss that is always trying to 
 parade the decks with Miss O'Donagough, only I won't let her." 
 
 " As to that, madam," replied the captain, " I never in my 
 hfe was guilty of making any difference whatsoever between 
 one passenger and another ; if they all pay me honestly, they are 
 an honest people to me, and I care not a straw about, their 
 grandfathers." 
 
 " I have not asked you, sir, to make any differenfce ; any 
 lady, treated as I have been by an insolent blackamoor, ought 
 to know that he was punished for it." 
 
 " And what, if you please, madam, do you think I ought to 
 do to Black Billy, for not answering your questions about the 
 young fellows of my crew ? " 
 
58 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 This sudden and unexpected retort again made Mrs. Dona- 
 gough feel very unwell, and she heartily wished herself lying 
 upon the cloaks and coats again ; nevertheless her spirits did 
 not desert her entirely, and she continued to say, " Upon my 
 word, Captain Wilkins, you would consult your own interest 
 better if you did take a little notice of the difference of station 
 between one passenger and another, instead of treating them all 
 alike, with the vulgarity that seems natural to you." 
 
 " My interest, madam, is not very likely to be touched, one 
 way or another, by my passengers. The Atalanta is nowise like 
 an American liner or a steam-ship moving between Dover and 
 Calais ; for you know, madam, if any of my customers was to 
 cross back again, it would most likely be the King — God bless 
 him ! — and not me, who would have the bringing of them." 
 
 Here Mrs. O'Donagough became too ill to hear another 
 word, and catching hold of a sailor who was passing, to take his 
 turn at the helm, she got him to help her down stairs ; when, 
 crawling again into her berth, she continued to lie there in no 
 very comfortable position for several hours, till at length Miss 
 Patty came to look after her, and by the help of a little coaxing, 
 induced her to get up and show papa in which package the 
 other jars of pickled onions could be found. 
 
 For the rest of the voyage Mrs. O'Donagough continued on 
 very unsatisfactory terms both with the captain and Billy, 
 seldom indeed exchanging a word with either, and remaining 
 altogether too sick and too much out of temper to make any 
 further efforts for the discovery of Jack's secret history, if any 
 such were, in truth, attached to him ; a point upon which 
 happily, perhaps, for her own tranquillity, she began to be con- 
 siderably less sanguine than when her researches commenced ; 
 for the youth satisfactorily proved his plebeian origin, by never 
 appearing conscious that so distinguished a person as herself 
 was on board. 
 
 " How can you bear to play every day with that vulgar boy 
 as you do ? you, and your father too, Martha ! It is perfectly 
 wonderful to me how you can endure his maimers ! But any 
 amusement, I suppose, is better than none, as long as we are 
 confined to this beastly, horrid ship. Only you must remember, 
 my dear, that when you get to England, aU things wiU be dif- 
 ferent. We must have no more vulgar acquaintance, if you 
 please. But now you must go on playing, I suppose, with any- 
 body you can find, for God knows I am too ill to amuse you 
 myself." 
 
 Such was the harangue uttered by Mrs. O'Donagough to her 
 daughter when their voyage was about half completed ; and to 
 avoid aU unnecessary concealments, the soUloquy which followed 
 it on the part of the young lady, as she turned from her mother 
 
A BOY OVEKBOAKD. 59 
 
 and hung over the blue waves as they lashed the vessel on her 
 course, shall be given likewise. 
 
 " Vulgar boy ! — That's your notion of a vulgar boy, is it? — 
 Idon't care whether he is a sailor-boy or a prince — not — one — 
 single — cent." It was thus that she deliberately murmured 
 forth her steadfast mind. " But this I know, that if my dear, 
 dear, beautiful, lovely Jack, will only consent to marry me as 
 soon as I am fifteen — and that's old enough for any woman — ^if 
 he will only have me for his wife, I won't care neither for father 
 nor mother, nor uncles, nor aunts, no more than if they were 
 so many brass buttoAs." 
 
 Such were the sentiments of Mr. Ailen O'Donagough's 
 heiress when she had traversed half the briny space which 
 divides the old world from the new ; and ere the remaining half 
 was halved, her young heart was more thoroughly devoted still. 
 But as the adventure which led to this is perfectly novel and 
 highly interesting, it must have a chapter to itself. 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 It happened one morning after rather a squally night, that 
 the youngest boy on board having been sent out to the extremest 
 point of the bowsprit, for the purpose of setting to rights some- 
 thing that the blustering wind had made wrong, became so 
 entangled in the tackle, and by his own unskilful attempts to 
 set it right, as to become too thoroughly puzzled to handle it in 
 the usual way; when, taking an unsailor-hke hold of some 
 rope or other, it failed him — ^he lost his head and his footing 
 together, and with the piercing cry of a shrill young voice, 
 that made itself heard athwart the hoarse grumbhng of the 
 fretted sea, dropped into the water. 
 
 Happily the vessel was upon a tack, and did not pass over 
 bim ; so that Jack, who heard the cry, and sprung instantly to 
 the ship's side, saw the body rise at the distance of a few feet 
 from him. It is not by the result of that valuable process of 
 mind called meditation, that great deeds are done by men or 
 boys either. Had Jack meditated, he would have remembered 
 that he was by no means a very skilful swimmer, and probably 
 come to the xionclusion that it would be unwise to put two 
 human hves in jeopardy instead of one ; but as he did not me- 
 ditate at all, an impulse which, if not better was decidedly 
 stronger than reason, caused him to jump upon the bulwarks, 
 and plunge into the sea after him. 
 
 In an instant, three-fourths of the crew were hanging over 
 
60 THE WIDOW MAREIED. 
 
 the ship's side, and eagerly handling ropes to throw after him. 
 The captain, who had been among the first to see both the 
 accident and the bold deed which followed, could hardly have 
 been more zealous in his efforts to rescue the lads, if either or 
 both of them had been his own. With his own arm he seized 
 the helm, and put the ship about so skilfully, as to bring her 
 within a few feet of poor Jack, who was evidently struggling 
 with difBoulty to sustain the boy whom he had succeeded in 
 catching hold of, while with his other arm he laboured to ap- 
 proach and seize upon the friendly rope that had been sent to 
 help him. But the joint action of the wind and waves made 
 this very difficult, and had not the captain's first order, which 
 was to lower the boat, been promptly obeyed. Jack would 
 never have puzzled or pleased fair lady more. 
 
 As it was, however, the adventure ended in the very best 
 style ; the young hero and his protege were- both laid safely, 
 though perfectly insensible, upon the deck, with all the pas- 
 sengers, and nearly the whole crew, gazing upon them with 
 all sorts of affectionate and admiring looks. 
 
 But beyond all question, the person most acutely inte- 
 rested in the scene, was Miss Martha O'Donagough. Like 
 aU other good female sailors, this young lady had a strong 
 aversion to remaining below, and no sooner had the wind 
 sufficiently abated to permit her to keep her feet upon the deck, 
 than coaxing the captain to withdraw, for her at least, his 
 prohibition against the appearance of the ladies in rough wea- 
 ther, she contrived to make her way to the side of the vessel, 
 and, rolling herself up in her cloak, with a firm grasp upon the 
 bulwarks, to enjoy the fresh breeze after a very sorry night, to- 
 gether with the pleasant hope that her friend Jack would pre- 
 sently see and approach her. 
 
 Nor was she disappointed ; Jack did see her, and the next 
 moment came laughing to her side, declaring that she must be 
 a mermaid, to look so well and happy in such weather. Then 
 followed some delightful fun in watching the frohcs of the 
 tempest-loving tribes, who never condescend to visit the sur- 
 face of the water when it is smooth ; and then Jack helped to 
 secure her bonnet more comfortably by putting a silk handker- 
 chief over it, and tying it under her chin ; and then her cloak 
 wanted fastening, and very often she was in danger of being 
 blown backwards, only Jack was so kind as to prevent it. In 
 short. Miss Martha was enjoying herself exceedingly, when the 
 cry of the falling boy smote their ears. The violent movement 
 occasioned by putting about the ship, which she had to endure 
 without any arm to help her, threw her down, and prevented 
 her seeing either the floating body of the boy, or the noble effort 
 made by her companion to save him. But no sooner had she 
 
THE RESCUE. 6] 
 
 recovered her feet, and her hold upon the bulwarks, to whieh she 
 firmly clung, notwithstanding the requests of many sailors that 
 she would stand aside, that she perceived aU that had happened, 
 and from that moment ceased not to harass all around her by a 
 succession of screams, tOthe boat and the three men let down in 
 her, had done their work, and the two rescued lads were 
 stretched before her on the deck. Then she screamed no more ; 
 friendship claimed its rights, and undeterred by any idle 
 scruples, Martha sat down upon the deck, and placed the head 
 of poor Jack upon her knee. 
 
 " Avast, my girl ! " cried one of the men whose exertions 
 had saved him, " he must not be stifled up that fashion." But 
 the cruel interference was of no avail, for at that very moment 
 Jack opened his bright eyes, and began very hopefully to look 
 about him. 
 
 For a moment he seemed puzzled ; and the first symptom of 
 recovered memory, was a short, quick, question of " Where is 
 the boy?" 
 
 " Here, Jack, here ! " responded from all sides ; and the 
 next feehng led, as it seemed, to a momentary communing 
 within, for he put his hands before his eyes, and his hps moved, 
 but without his uttering any sound. 
 
 Some movement of the young girl then caused him to look 
 up, and he perceived where and how he was situated. 
 
 " My dear little girl, is that you ? " said he, in a voice that 
 spoke much grateful feeling. 
 
 A jovial laugh, and something very like a cheer from the 
 surrounding group, at once seemed to welcome their favourite 
 back to life, and to compliment the young lady upon her kind- 
 ness. Jack, at the same moment, made an effort to rise, and 
 Martha did the same ; so they stood up together, both dripping 
 wet with the sea-Water, and as neither Mr. nor Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough had yet left their beds, the captain took it upon himself 
 to recommend that their daughter should go below and change 
 her wet garments. 
 
 This tall, stout, and decidedly precocious young lady, cer-' 
 tainly never looked so nearly beautiful as she did at that moment. 
 Much paler than usual, with large black eyes that shone through 
 genuine tears (for she had truly been most terribly frightened), 
 and, moreover, a little abashed at her situation, the young 
 Martha could hardly fail of appearing both fair and interesting 
 to the eyes of her playfellow. Jack looked at her much more 
 earnestly than he had ever done before, and thought that she 
 was not only the kindest-hearted Httle girl in the world, but 
 very handsome ; a fact of which, perhaps, he had never tiU that 
 moment been sufficiently aware. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, my dear child," said he, very kindly 
 
62 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 taking her by the hand. " But I must not touch you, Martha, 
 for if I do you will be wetter still." 
 
 " And look to yourself, Jack," replied Martha, with equal 
 kindness ; " I'll go and change, if you wiH." 
 
 " That's a bargain then," he replied, smiling, but with very 
 gentle feelings, at her naivete; " and when we are all got diy 
 again, it wiU be something to talk about, will it not ? " 
 
 Martha smiled too ; and nodding to him with a look, the 
 kindness of which was no longer veiled by tears, prepared to 
 follow his advice, and by the help of his steadying hand, reached 
 the companion-way, and descended. 
 
 This adventure could not easily be forgotten by either, — 
 neither was it. Jack long considered Martha as the kindest- 
 hearted and prettiest girl in the world ; and Martha considered 
 Jack as the perfection of sweethearts, and the model of every- 
 tliing that was handsomest in the male creation. 
 
 This occurrence helped on, at least to the young people, the 
 last lingering weeks of the voyage : for not only did it, as jack 
 had prophesied, give them something to talk of, but the ardent 
 gratitude of the fine lad he had saved, and the daily-increasing 
 interest that Martha testified for all that concerned him, could 
 not but touch so tender a heart as Jack's, who, moreover, 
 always remembering that he was but a poor saUor-boy, conceived 
 a strong feeling of gratitude and esteem for the young girl, 
 whose unsophisticated nature led her so completely to overlook 
 all distinctions of rank. 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. O'Donagough, indeed, all this produced 
 no good effect, but rather the contrary ; for Jack grew tired of 
 ship-bilHards, and greatly preferred standing by his Httle friend 
 Martha, as she sat perched upon the taflfrail, and with her strong 
 clear voice sang love-ditties to the fishes by the hour together. 
 And poor Mrs. O'Donagough fared not at all the better for this 
 additional leisure of her husband's ; for he was getting exceed- 
 ingly restless, rather bilious, and now and then very cross ; so 
 that, considerably before they arrived at the port of London, 
 they both became aware that they had been shut up together 
 quite long enough. 
 
 Two trifling circumstances only, both occurring within the 
 last week, caused a short intermission of poor Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 yawns, by giving her something puzzling to think of. The first 
 of these was seeing her husband, Mr. Allen O'Donagough, 
 mount the cabin stairs one fine morning, with his face as cleanly 
 shaved from top to bottom, and from side to side, as it was 
 possible for a razor to do it. Not a trace, not a vestige of either 
 mustache or favoris remained, to show what the military glory 
 of that expansive face had once been. The change produced 
 upon his countenance by this operation was very great — and to 
 
A METAMORPHOSIS, 63 
 
 say the truth, by no means favourable ; for little as we may 
 some of us admire the flashy look which every chevalier d'indus- 
 trie can obtain by only restricting the ofiBce of his razor, it is 
 nevertheless certain that a great, high-boned, vulgar face, hke 
 that of my heroine's present husband, is in no degree improved 
 by being rendered more broadly visible. 
 
 At the iirst glace his wife did not know him ; nor was it, 
 indeed, till he had displayed the whole extent of his large white 
 teeth, in a smile produced by her unconscious stare at Mm, that 
 she did. 
 
 The time when she had almost worshipped the mihtary 
 insignia of his upper lip, and doted on the copious manliness 
 which veiled his ample jaws, was certainly passed, probably 
 never to return, yet could she not look with indifference upon 
 what appeared to her so terrible a faDing-off in the striking 
 comeliness of his appearance. She had hitherto never ceased to 
 consider him as a remarkably dashing and fashionable looking 
 man, but now her eyes, as well as her heart, told her that he 
 was not so at all. 
 
 " Good Heaven, Major Allen ! " was her first involuntary 
 exclamation, "what on earth can have induced you to make 
 such a figure of yourself ? " 
 
 The gentleman suddenly ceased to smUe as she spoke, and 
 answered in a low growling voice, which showed that he had 
 not, like Samson, lost his spirit with his hair, "And what, 
 madam, can make you call me by a name which I have com- 
 manded you never to utter again ? " 
 
 Poor Mrs. O'Donagough was really frightened, and notwith- 
 standing the high spirit on which she prided herself, condescended 
 to say, "Oh, dear me! Mr. O'Donagough, don't be angry ! I 
 will never say it again, upon my word and honour. And no- 
 body heard me, you know — ^that's a comfort. But what did 
 you cut off your beautiful whiskers for ? " 
 
 " You are a fool, Mrs. Allen O'Donagough," was the short 
 reply; and never again was the circumstance alluded to between 
 them. But it cannot be supposed that Mrs. O'Donagough for- 
 got it ; or that she could avoid feeling rather uncomfortably 
 anxious as to what motive could have induced so very handsome 
 a man to disfigure himself so dreadfuUy. 
 
 " If it had been only his mustaches," thought she, " I 
 should not have cared ; and, indeed, I know that it would have 
 been perfectly necessary — how else could he possibly pass him- 
 self oif for the Reverend Mr. O'Donagough? No reverends 
 ever do wear mustaches, that's quite true ; but those beautiful 
 whiskers, that gave him so completely the air of a man of 
 fashion — ^there could have been no occasion to shave them ! I 
 know the irregular clergy, like my last poor O'Donagough, 
 
64 THE WIDOW MAKRIED. 
 
 wear whiskers quite as often as not — not little shabby whiskers 
 either, such as a bishop might wear, and no harm done — ^but 
 just such full noble-looking whiskers as the Ma — as this foolish 
 man wore ; however, it's no good to fret. If anything was to 
 happen to him, and I was to marry again, I'd take good care to 
 know, if 'twas in the old world or the new, whether there was 
 any likehhood of the man's wanting to scrape his skin, for all 
 the world hke a pig prepared for roasting. This one only wants 
 singeing a little, to make him perfect." 
 
 The other circumstance which tended in some degree to 
 relieve the wearisome tedium of Mrs. O'Donagough's last few 
 days at sea, was something like a discovery which she at last 
 made, respecting the young sailor-lad, called Jack. By special 
 agxeement, Mr. and Mrs. O'Donagough and their daughter 
 dined in the cabin, and at the table of the captain, though like 
 all other passengers on board, they furnished their own proven- 
 der ; but a few pounds additional to their passage- money had 
 secured to them the dignity of this privilege, which was the 
 more precious, because shared by no other passenger. From 
 some suspicious reason or other, which Captain "W'ilkins had 
 never explained, his dinner hour, and consequently that of 
 the O'Donagoughs, had been changed after they came on board, 
 and fixed considerably earlier than before. Dining, however, is 
 so welcome an amusement on board ship, that nobody complains 
 of its coming too soon, and the alteration was never objected to. 
 
 The weather during the whole passage having been, vpith 
 few exceptions, remarkably fine, it was the custom of the 
 O'Donagough family to repair to the quarter-deck as soon as 
 the dinner was over and there indulge in nibbling biscuits and 
 sipping toddy. Miss Patty, during this hour of systematic 
 gossiping, fared not so well as her parents : for to do her justice, 
 she was not at all fond of toddy ; and Jack, of whom she cer- 
 tainly was very fond, for some reason or other was never visible 
 on the deck at these times. That he was indeed not on deck, 
 little Patty was perfectly competent to declare, for more than 
 once had she vainly traversed its entire length from stem to 
 stern in search of him. She could not unfortunately pene- 
 trate to any of the mysterious recesses below, — that she had with 
 some little diflftculty been made to understand was impossible ; 
 but she would wiUingly have ransacked the cabin and all its 
 dependencies in search of her friend, only she found, upon once 
 attempting the experiment, that the door was locked. 
 
 These efforts to find her playfellow, however, and the dis- 
 appointment which attended them, were ahke confined to her 
 own bosom ; and as her father was, as we have seen, very com- 
 fortably engaged, and her mother, if possible, still more so — ^for 
 she took her biscuits and toddy from the luxurious couch of coats 
 
A DISCOVEKY IN THE CABIN. 65 
 
 and cloaks heretofore described — the absence of the lad at this 
 liour, constant and regular as it was, had never been noticed by 
 either. 
 
 It so happened, however, the very day on which the Atalanta 
 entered the British Channel, the weather being beautifully calm, 
 and the sea as yet in no degree affected by the narrow and 
 troublesome path it had got into, that Mrs. O'Donagough feel- 
 ing herself particularly well and hvely, scorned the repose offered 
 by her cloaks and coats, and trotted down the cabin stairs in 
 search of a basket in which many hourly requirements were 
 stowed, and among others, the last letter of her niece, Mrs. 
 General Hubert. To this letter, it must be confessed, she had 
 made very frequent allusion during the passage, whenever she 
 could get anybody to listen to her ; but, nevertheless, she wished 
 to consult it again now, because it contained something about 
 her darhng great-niece, Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of her 
 beloved Agnes, and often as she had read the letter, she 
 could not, as she assured Mr. O'Donagough, exactly recollect 
 whether the dear girl was thirteen, or only twelve and a half. 
 
 As it was Jlrs. O'Donagough's luxurious custom to wear list 
 shoes on board, she went down the companion-way with very 
 little noise, and applying her hand to the lock of the cabin-door, 
 it turned and admitted her. 
 
 Great, indeed, was her astonishment at what she saw before 
 her. The usual cabin dinner-table was covered with a marvel- 
 lously clean cloth, on which was spread, with great attention to 
 neatness, and even some display, aU the requisites for a sub- 
 stantial repast. A siagle glance, it was to be sure a long and 
 steady one, sufficed to show Mrs. O'Donagough that not only 
 great pains had been bestowed upon the dressing it, but that 
 the articles of which it was composed were of the most delicate 
 quahty that a long voyage can permit. Two bottles of wine 
 flanked the single plate, to supply which, the various dainties 
 were prepared — and before that plate sat>— Jack ! Yes, it was 
 Jack, Jack in sohtary state, in his usual nautical,- and not over- 
 clean, exterior garments, but with the air of being most per- 
 fectly at his ease, and of feeling himself anything but an intruder 
 in the place he occupied. 
 
 At sight of Mrs. O'Donagough, however, liis colour certainly 
 mounted considerably, and he rose so suddenly, and with an air 
 so vexed and confused, that had she not known the captain's 
 flinner to have been long over, she might have been tempted to 
 beUeve that the lad was caught in the act of pilfering what had 
 been prepared for his betters. But as it was, she stood perfectly 
 amazed, astounded, petrified, and puzzled. Many weeks ha,d 
 passed since she had ceased to trouble herself about Jack and his 
 unsailor-like ways; for, finding it impossible to discover the 
 
Ob TirE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 secret, she gradually became convinced that there was none, and 
 all interest in him had died away accordingly. An additional 
 reason for which might probably be, that the lad never by any 
 chance came near enough to speak to her, if it could by possi- 
 bility be avoided. 
 
 But now all tliis reasonable and dignified tranquillity of 
 spirit was again destroyed I That there was something very par- 
 ticular indeed in the situation of Jack, it was impossible to 
 doubt, but to discover what was beyond her power. 
 
 The youth having mumbled something about " having a joke 
 with the captain," passed by her and mounted the stairs, leaving 
 her to all the torments of unassisted conjecture, from which the 
 most acciu-ate examination of the relics of Jack's banquet could 
 not relieve her. In fact, the only thing she could find worthy 
 of arresting her attention was a silver fork — ^this she discovered, 
 on examination, was made to receive the blade of a knife into 
 its handle, and a little further search enabled her to discover 
 the said knife also, and to ascertain that it not only fitted nicely, 
 but that the style and workmanship of this bit of travelling 
 luxury was of a costly kind. 
 
 For mere curiosity's sake she would have hked well enough 
 to put the united articles into her pocket ; but as the lively 
 thought arose, the recollection that she was on board a ship 
 coming from Botany Bay, came with it, and she discreetly laid 
 the pretty things where she found them, retaining only the 
 interesting fact that they were both marked with the letter 
 " S." 
 
 From that hour to the end of the voyage, which was just 
 five days, including the passage up the river, poor Mrs. 
 O'Donagough was never able to obtain from any one the 
 slightest glimmer of light on this mysterious subject. As the 
 vessel passed Sheerness, a boat was sent on shore, in which she 
 perceived through the cabin- windows as the little craft passed 
 astern, that a great quantity of luggage had been stowed. Un- 
 luckily for poor Mrs. O'Donagough, she was at the moment 
 busily employed in some necessary packing operations, which 
 the approach to land rendered indispensable, and her view, 
 therefore, of this parting boat was so indistinct, that she did 
 not recognise the brown curls and blue eyes of Jack, under the 
 foraging cap, that was seated at the stem. Neither did she, 
 from the same unlucky accident, witness the very affectionate 
 farewell exchanged between this provoking boy and the whole 
 of the ship's crew. There was another farewell, rather more 
 affectionate still, which also she did not see ; but it was not 
 only her being in the cabin which prevented this, for it was 
 behind a heap of canvas which concealed them from all eyes 
 that Jack gave a parting kiss to Patty. 
 
ARRIVAJL OF THE ATALAUTA. 67 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 At length the boat was alongside, which was to convey my 
 lieroine, her hustand and daughter, to those dear dirty steps, 
 beside the Custom-house of London, the stumbhng up of which 
 has occasioned joy and gladness to so many hearts. Our party 
 had, of course, a considerable quantity of luggage to remove, and 
 to this Mr. O'Donagough gave pretty nearly his whole attention ; 
 but somehow or other, his wife and daughter got safely into the 
 boat in the midst of it, and the whole freight, after the usual 
 quantity of noise and bustle, was securely rowed to the landing- 
 place and disembarked. 
 
 " At last, Patty ! " exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough, on reach- 
 ing the highest step, " here we are. Oh ! how glad I am that we 
 have done with that beastly ship ! If the sight of every rope 
 in her did not make me as sick as a cat, I'U be hanged ! Come, 
 dear, get on ; you must not begin staring yet. Bless you, 
 child, this is nothing but the very nastiest outskirts of London. 
 There is nothing here worth opening your handsome eyes upon, 
 Patty. Come along, come along ! There goes your father into 
 the Custom-house, as I take it, and we had best stop outside 
 and watch the men bring up the rest of the goods. Lord! 
 what a quantity they do carry to be sure ! There goes my 
 bandbox. If your father had not been a fool he might have 
 contrived to smuggle that. But I never will forgive Mm if he 
 does not bring it out again this minute. Passed or not passed, 
 as he calls it, have it I must and will." To all this, Patty 
 made no answer whatever. She was too much occupied and 
 pre-occupied to care for anything her mamma could say. In 
 fact, her thoughts were revolving with the regularity of a shut- 
 tlecock between two battledoors, from the kiss Jack had given 
 her off Sheerness, to the busy throng moving in all directions 
 roimd her. 
 
 After an interval, so short as to prove that Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough was a practised and a skilful traveller, he was seen to 
 emerge again from the portal of the Custom-house, when his 
 wife, who was stationed close to it, pounced upon his arm with 
 genuine conjugal approbation — a manoeuvre, by-the-by, well 
 described by Shakespeare, when he says. 
 
 She anus her with the holdness of a wife — 
 
 and exclaimed, "What a time you have been O'Donagough! 
 where is the bandbox ? Why surely you have not come away 
 without it ? You know as well as I do, that I must have it ; 
 
 E 2 
 
68 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 and I'll bet a thousand pounds that is exactly the reason you 
 have left it!" 
 
 " No, my dear, it was not, I assure you," he replied, with 
 very business-like composure ; " it was because the Custom- 
 house officers would not let me bring it on account of the 
 sweetmeats." 
 
 " Sweetmeats, Mr. O'Donagough ! Then why did you not 
 let them take out the sweetmeats ? You know perfectly well, 
 though now you pretend to look exactly as if you had never 
 heard of it, you know that it is not the sweetmeats that I want, 
 but my dressing box. I declare to Heaven I would as soon 
 have an owl look after my things ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Mr. O'Donagough, composedly ; " I am 
 going to call a coach for you. I shall tell the man to drive to 
 the Saracen's Head, and there you must order dinner and beds. 
 No ; upon second thoughts, my dear, you had better order tea. 
 It makes, as I well remember, a monstrous difference in the 
 bill, and -fre may eat, you know, exactly as much cold meat as 
 we like." 
 
 Here Mr. O'Donagough held up his finger to a hackney- 
 coachman, as readily as if he had not been beyond reach of any 
 such luxury for nearly fifteen years. But when, with a hand 
 apphed to his young daughter's elbow, he was in the very act 
 of assisting her to mount the uncertain steps, he was startled by 
 the voice of his lady, exclaiming witliin an inch of his ear, 
 
 " How can you, O'Donagough, be such a fool as to make 
 believe that you think I shall go off without my bandbox ? I 
 shall not stir a step without it, and that you know. What a 
 thing it is to have a man belonging to one that can't look after 
 such a trifle as that ! But it is no matter. I can do it myself! " 
 And with these words, Mrs. O'Donagough rushed into the 
 Custom-house, with the aspect of a tigress seeking her young. 
 There was the same thrusting forward of the lengthened neck — 
 the same eager starting of the protruding eye. And who shall 
 say that there was not the same throbbing emotion at her heart ? 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough very improperly gave his daughter a look 
 that seemed to say, " Did you ever ? " and having desired her to 
 sit quietly in the hackney-coach till they returned, he followed 
 the wife of his bosom with long but deliberate strides, as she 
 won her way to what appeared the most busy part of the vast 
 edifice. He overtook her just in time to hear her say, with 
 astonishing dignity, though panting for breath, 
 
 " Pray, sir, wiU you be pleased to inform me if it is here 
 that the passengers' luggage from the Atalanta has been de- 
 posited ? " 
 
 " The man who is now passing down the room, ma'am, can 
 tell you," was the reply. 
 
,V^-'^'Ca 
 
 
A QUESTION OF LAW. 69 
 
 Away flew Mrs. O'Donagougli after the individual thus in- 
 dicated ; but the man moved quickly, and it became speedily 
 evident that she must raise her voice to overtake him. 
 
 " Win yon tell me where the luggage from the Atalanta is 
 stowed ? " screamed the flying lady, at the very highest pitch of 
 her voice. But this effort also was in vain, for a multitude of 
 other sounds blended themselves with the voice of Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, and the of&cial hurried on. Vexed, heated, weary, but 
 more determined than ever to perform what she had under- 
 taken, if only to prove how wretchedly inefficient in all such 
 matters her tosband must be, she continued to run on with all 
 the velocity that a heavy cloak, and the ample volume of her 
 own person would permit, tiU at length the man she was pur- 
 suing stopped, and at the same instant her eye caught sight of 
 the bandbox, the abduction of which from the boatman who 
 brought them on shore, had caused her so much inquietude. 
 
 " This is it, this is the box I want, sir ! " she exclaimed, 
 extending her arm to seize her recovered treasure. 
 
 " By your leave, ma'am," said another official, taking hold 
 of it with professional firmness, but perfect civiUty, " it is going 
 this way." 
 
 " It can't go that way, sir — ^I must have it. I do assure you 
 it is perfectly impossible for me to get into the coach without 
 it, and I am quite confident, that, as a gentleman, you can't 
 refuse to let me taie away such a trifle as this one bandbox." 
 
 " It has been looked into," said another offioer, " and is 
 crammed fuU of sweetmeats. It must pay duty." 
 
 " Dear me ! — ^pay duty, sir, for a dressing-box ? I don't 
 care a straw for the sweetmeats, comparatively speaking, and 
 Mr. O'Donagough must of course pay the duty, if he chooses to 
 have them — all I ask is for my dressing-box, and I shall think 
 it a most disgraceful thing to the English nation, if a lady is 
 to have her very dressing-box taken from her the moment she 
 puts her feet on English ground. I am sure the very savages 
 themselves would know better ! And what's more, I don't 
 believe it is legal to seize it, for I have used the same and no 
 other for years and years, and you may depend upon it that if 
 there is anything illegal in the matter, the thing won't pass 
 without notice. My connections are not in a rank of life to 
 permit anything of that kind. It may be all very well for 
 common people to have their property snatched out of their 
 hands this way, but it won't do for the aunt of General 
 Hubert!" 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough, who had by this time reached her side, 
 stood with more nonchalance than was quite amiable, while his 
 indignant wife thus exerted herself. Nay, some persons might 
 even have suspected that he was base enough to quiz the vehe- 
 
70 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 ment energy of her pleadings ; for not only did he remain per- 
 fectly sUent, but now and then exchanged such a look with the 
 individual with whom she was contesting the legality of the 
 transaction, as might have easily been construed into joining in 
 the laugh against her. Fortunately for the preservation of the 
 King's peace, on the spot sacred to the collection of his own 
 customs, Mrs. O'Donagough was too completely occupied to be 
 aware of this, and it was only when at length she ceased to 
 speak, that she perceived her husband beside her. 
 
 " I do wonder, Mr. O'Donagough," she then began, " how 
 you can stand there like a statue, without ever uttering a single 
 syllable, good, bad, or indifferent ! I do believe you are the 
 only man in the whole civilised world who would let all the 
 trouble of travelling fall upon his wife in this way. Pray, sir, 
 do make the people understand that the coach is waiting for 
 me, and that it is impossible I should go without my dressing- 
 box!" 
 
 " Why, my dear, you and I don't do business in the same 
 way. Pray, sir, how long will it be before our ihiags can be 
 passed ? These are the articles in this corner — just one dozen 
 j)ackages, great and small. When wiU they be looked over ? " 
 
 " Within an hour, sir." 
 
 " Now, then, my dear, make up your mind. WiU you wait 
 here yourself one hour, till you can see the whole lot sent off? 
 Or will you go on to the Saracen's Head, and leave me here to 
 get it done? Or wUl you prefer my going with you, and re- 
 turning here again after I have seen you and Martha safely 
 lodged?" 
 
 There is hardly anytliing in the world so provoking, when 
 one has worked oneself up to a considerable degree of energy, 
 as to be made to perceive, as plainly as that two and two make 
 four, that no energy at all was necessary. Mrs. O'Donagough 
 would at that moment have given anything short of her dres- 
 sing-box, if without danger she could have bestowed upon her 
 husband a good cuff; but she restrained herself, and only 
 rephed, " Oh ! pray do not trouble yourself to go with us — I 
 am sure I hope there is nothing going to happen in which you 
 could do any good. Stay, if you like, and as long as you like, 
 and let all the things be seized One after another, without put- 
 ting out your finger to prevent it. I don't care a straw about 
 it. It would be convenient, certainly, for me to get my dres- 
 sing-box before I go, but as you do not choose to take any 
 trouble about it, of course I must submit. Few gentlemen, I 
 fancy, would Uke to see their wives treated in this sort of way, 
 particularly about a thing that I took out of England myself, 
 years and years ago. However, I shall say no more about it. 
 I know the transaction to be perfectly infamous in every way, 
 
OFFICIAL CIVILITY. 71 
 
 and that's all I have to say on the subject. General Hubert, or 
 Lady Elizabeth either, wiU be able to tell me whether it will 
 be worth my while to take any further notice of it. The im- 
 portance of the thing itself is comparatively nothing — but no 
 man of spirit, I presume, would choose that his wife should be 
 treated with fraud and indignity — that's all I wish to observe." 
 
 This speech was intended for all within hearing, but it is 
 doubtful whether any one besides her husband heard a syllable 
 of it. There is, perhaps, no place in which the constitutional 
 propensity of the gentler sex to relieve their full hearts in words, 
 is endured with more unresisting passiveness than in scenes of 
 active pubhc business. The stream is generally permitted to 
 flow on without let or hindrance ; and if, as usually happens, 
 no attention is paid to it, the obvious reason lies in the judicious 
 earnestness of the functionaries to perform the ladies' wishes, 
 without pausing even to listen to their eloquent expression of 
 them. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough waited a few seconds for an answer, but 
 receiving none, either from her husband or any one else, she 
 turned suddenly round upon a person actively engaged in the 
 examination of a host of trunks just arrived from France, and, 
 said, " Am I to have my dressing-box, sir, or not ? " 
 
 The man looked up at her for an instant, but pursued his 
 employment without answering. 
 
 " What insufferable insolence ! " she exclaimed, fronting 
 round again to Mr. O'Donagough ; " I am perfectly persuaded 
 that there is no nation in the world where such conduct woulil 
 be endured, except this ! And I beUeve also," she continued, 
 somewhat in a lower voice, and preparing to leave the room, — 
 " I believe also that there is not another man in existence who 
 would suffer his wife to be thus treated without resenting it." 
 
 " You will get these things in the corner looked over next, 
 will you?" said Mr. O'Donagough, with the most perfect 
 composure. 
 
 " Yes, sir, I wiU," replied the man he addressed, with such 
 imalterable civihty, that Mrs. O'Donagough began to suspect, 
 no scolding, however violent, could do any good ; and having 
 fortunately arrived at this conclusion, she condescended to take 
 her husband's arm and walk off; muttering, however, the whole 
 way some very biting observations on the difference between 
 some men and other men. But Mr. O'Donagough was in no 
 humour to make a fuss about it, and continued to whistle " Oh ! 
 the roast beef of Old England, and, oh ! the old English roast 
 beef," tiU they reached the haokney-coach, in which they had 
 left their young daughter. 
 
 Many papas and mammas would have felt some scruple, if not 
 a. little fear, at the idea of leaving a young lady of fourteen in 
 
72 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 a scene so noisy and so new, as the street in front of the London 
 Custom-house : but it is more than probable that they both of 
 them knew sufficiently well the excellent condition of the young 
 Martha's nerves, to prevent all notion of such idle alarms. 
 They found her, as most hkely they expected, still unsatiated 
 with the delight of staring at all the people, and all the carts, 
 and all the horses, and all the boxes, which were passing in a 
 whirhng maze before her view. 
 
 " Well, chicken ! " cried her father, inserting his face between 
 that of his wife and the window of the hackney-coach, " are you 
 not tired of waiting for us ? " 
 
 " Tired ? " replied the young lady ; " not I ; never saw such 
 fun in my Ufe. What have you been doing, mamma, all this time? 
 It is a thousand pities you should not have seen all these people 
 pass. There must be some monstrous great arrival in England, 
 to-day, I'am sure." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough laughed. " I am glad you have been 
 amused, chick," said he, standing a little aside, while his lady 
 was getting into the coach ; " and I should like very well to 
 hear all you have got to say about it. But you must tell me 
 all when I come." 
 
 "Lor, papa, you ain't going to stay here, are you?" said 
 Martha, in a voice that betokened disappointment. 
 
 " How can you be so absurd, child ? " said her mother, 
 sharply, drawing up the window of the coach within exactly 
 one inch of her husband's nose. " For God's sake let us make 
 him vsetal if we can. He is by no means too well inclined that 
 way, I promise you." 
 
 When a factious and rebellious spirit gets possession of a 
 woman, it gives her a degree of coiirage that is often quite 
 astonishing. Mrs. O'Donagough knew, as well as she did that 
 the sun would rise on the morrow, that however enduringly her 
 husband might receive for a time, the rebukes and scoiRngs of 
 her contumacious spirit, he would settle the account fairly with 
 her at last, and this with a manly preponderance of force, which 
 to any woman possessed of less audacious vigour of mind, would 
 have been really alarming. Perhaps, indeed, Mrs. O'Donagough 
 herself, was not always entirely free from trepidation, when 
 these moments of retribution arrived ; yet it was very rarely 
 that . the fear of them was sufficiently powerful to check her 
 conjugal vivacities. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough did not Hke having the coach-window 
 drawn up within an inch of his nose, and employing the skilful 
 manoeuvre by which servants outside a carriage let down a 
 glass forgotten by the ladies within, he managed to remove 
 the barrier thus interposed between himself and his " woman- 
 kind." 
 
A MAKITAl THREAT. 73 
 
 " What the devil is the matter with you, madam ? " said he, 
 in a voice that caused more than one passing eye to turn round 
 upon him. " Don't tire me, Mrs. O'Donagough," he added, in 
 a lower tone, " or by Jove you may wish I had left you behind 
 at Sydney." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough was at this moment very advantageously 
 sitiiated for receiving the burst of wrath which she knew had 
 been accmnulating during the last half-hour. She dared not, 
 indeed, attempt to draw up the window again, but raising her- 
 self on her feet as nearly as the roof of the carriage would 
 let her, she sat down again in the corner with a degree of vehe- 
 mence, which made the crazy springs of the vehicle dip under her 
 as if never to rise again ; and in lieu of her magnificent coun- 
 tenance, presented so broad, thick, and seemingly impregnable 
 a shoulder to her spouse, that he felt he was worsted, and 
 sho^ving his large row of stiU white teeth to his daughter, as 
 with a backward movement of his thumb he pointed to the 
 massive shoulder, he stepped back upon the pavement, calling 
 out at the same time to the coachman, to " Drive to the 
 Saracen's Head, Snow HiU." 
 
 Martha made a movement that brought her face parallel 
 to the opposite window, and her shoulders to those of her 
 manmia's, so that the laugh produced by her papa's facetiousness 
 was not observed. 
 
 "Brute!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough, as the carriage 
 drove off. 
 
 " Oh ! my gracious — what a beautiful bonnet that is ! 
 And that — and that," cried the young lady, as they passed a 
 shop-window ; " shouldn't I look beautiful, mamma, with those 
 green feathers ? " 
 
 " Perhaps you might, my dear," replied her mother ; " and 
 you must be as sharp as a needle, Patty, I can teU you that, 
 to get what you want out of your skinflint father. He'll be 
 smart enough himself, I'll answer for him, for he is as vain 
 as an old peacock ; but as for us, and our appearance, he 
 won't care much, I dare say ; and a hard tug we shall have, 
 before we get anything decent out of him. Mark my words, if 
 we don't." 
 
 Of her two parents, Miss O'Donagough decidedly liked her 
 papa the best ; but she was already much too good a tactician 
 to let this appear before the eyes of her mamma. She felt, 
 indeed, her daily increasing power over both, and as delibe- 
 rately determined to make the most of it, as if she had studied 
 the curious and incalculable effect of skilfully-applied domestic 
 influence for years. 
 
 One means which she had long ago discovered, as beyond 
 aU others effectual in promoting this, was the seizing of every 
 
74 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 safe opportunity of making each fond parent believe that she 
 was quite willing, if she dared, to become his or her partisan, 
 upon all occasions, against the other. Some idea of her acute 
 and almost precocious talents may be gathered from the fact, 
 that she had already persuaded her father of her perfect en- 
 joyment of all the ridicule he from time to time slily threw 
 upon his lady ; and her mother, that she considered her as 
 exceedingly ill-used, whenever she failed of having her OAvn 
 way in every contest she fell into, with her master and her 
 lord. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough had changed but little in her feehngs 
 and principles of action, since the day when she arrived at the 
 hotel at Exeter, with her niece Agnes and Betty Jacks. She 
 still bore herself as one deserving of all deference and respect, 
 and called about her on arriving at the Saracen's Head, 
 as if nobody so great had ever driven under its awful sign 
 before. 
 
 The first waiter who met her passed on, exciting thereby her 
 deepest indignation; but at length her loud and dignified 
 demand, " Can we have beds and supper here?" pro- 
 duced something like the desired effect ; and she was ushered 
 into a little dusky, dirty, up-stairs sitting-room, from the 
 window of which, however, Martha had the gratification of 
 finding that she could look out upon the street. It was the 
 latter end of the month of August, and no one perhaps but a 
 young lady just escaped from the ship that had brought her 
 from New South Wales, could have found such keen delight in 
 gazing upon the hot and dusty precincts of Snow-hill. To her, 
 however, it was a sort of opening paradise, in which she fancied 
 she could dwell for ever without becoming weary. 
 
 " What quantities of carriages, mamma ! And, oh ! good 
 gracious, the men ! and such bonnets and flowers ! If papa 
 won't give us some money, I am sure we shall grow wild." 
 
 " Yes, to be sure we shall," replied her mother, who, with 
 her hand on her daughter's shoulder, and her head protruded 
 farther still than that of the young lady, hung over the pave- 
 ment, enamoured of all the metropolitan splendour she saw 
 passing there. 
 
 " London is a glorious place ; there is no doubt of that, 
 mamma," said Martha. 
 
 " The finest in the world — everybody says so ; and I am 
 sure it is impossible to stand here and doubt it," replied her 
 mother. " But do you know, Patty, I am dying with hunger. 
 I suppose your father would kill tis if we ordered tea before 
 he came." 
 
PAPA PACIFIED. 75 
 
 " I am sure it would be very savage of him to want to keep 
 us starving here, while he is amusing himself with all the 
 beautiful things as he comes along," replied the young lady. 
 
 " Well, my dear, if you have courage to face it, I don't 
 care. He was in a brutal ill-humour when we drove off ; but, 
 I suppose, if you tell him that you were feehng so sick and faint 
 that you thought you shoiild die, he won't say much about it. 
 So, if you feel courage for it, I'll ring." 
 
 " Oh, lor ! mamma, I feel courage enough, if that's all. 
 I'm sure I could eat a dozen rounds of buttered toast for my 
 own share. Ring away, mamma, I'll stop papa's mouth when 
 he comes. You see if I don't." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Mrs. O'Donagough did ring, and her 
 liberal orders given quite in the Silverton-park style, for tea, 
 toast, muffins, eggs, cold chicken, and ham, were obeyed with 
 admirable promptitude, and the mother and daughter had got 
 half through the tea-urn, and very nearly quite through all the 
 eatables upon the table, when Mr. AUen O'Donagough made 
 his appearance. 
 
 " Civil and obliging, upon my word," he exclaimed, with 
 " a touch of very natural feeling" as he entered the room. 
 "Wliile I have been fagging like a blackamoor to get your 
 cursed things through the customs, you two sit down and 
 devour everything that is to be had, without troubling your- 
 selves for a single instant to think of me." 
 
 " K you say that, you are a very wicked man, because you 
 will tell fibs," replied his daughter. " We did think of you, 
 and talk of you, too, a great deal, before we set to. And it was 
 I told mamma that I was sure as sure, that you wouldn't and 
 couldn't be angry. Just think, papa, the difference of sitting 
 stock stone still up here, longing for a morsel of food to keep 
 soul and body together, and being busy and blithe in the midst 
 of aU the beautiful sights like you have been." 
 
 While saying these words, Martha employed herself in 
 preparing on one fork a huge collop of ham, with a lump of 
 fowl to match it, and on another, an equally full sized morsel of 
 boiled beef, daintily covered with mustard. 
 
 " Now, here's what I call two beautiful mouthfuls. Open 
 your giUs, papa. This one first, 'cause the mustard is strongest. 
 Well, how d'ye Uke it? Very good, is it? I thought so. 
 Now this. And that's very good, too, it seems, by your man- 
 ner of munching it. Now say if I haven't thought about you ! 
 I told mamma I'd stop your mouth ; and aU you've got to do is 
 just to say which you like best, and more will come of it, I'll 
 be boiond, as soon as you order it." 
 
 There was something so exceedingly clever, and so prettily 
 playful, in this device of the young Martha to restore her hungry 
 
76 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 father's good humour, that both parents were delighted 'with it. 
 Mrs. O'Donagough got up laughing and rang the bell without 
 being bid ; and Mr. O'Donagough pinched his daughter's cheek, 
 called her a saucy hassy, and said that he'd be hanged if there 
 was such another girl of her years in Europe, or out of it. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 It will easily be imagined that Mr. and Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 notwithstanding their occasional little tiffs, had found a suffi- 
 cient number of tranquil moments on board ship, to discuss very 
 fully the important question of what it would be best to do with 
 themselves on first arriving in London. Mrs. O'Donagough 
 very naturally declared, that her first and dearest object would 
 be to throw herself into the arms of her beloved Agnes, and once 
 more to embrace the brother of her fond young memory, Mr. 
 Willoughby ; for which reasons, Berkeley-square rose, as it were, 
 spontaneously to her lips, every time the subject of settHng 
 themselves was mentioned. 
 
 But Mr. O'Donagough, who in one Way or another had 
 contrived to learn more facts concerning the movements of the 
 fashionable world, than had hitherto fallen within the scope of 
 his wife's observation, undertook to assure her, that in the 
 month of August there was no chance whatever of finding either 
 Mrs. Hubert or Mr. WiUoughby in London. It was, therefore, 
 necessary to consider what was most desirable in the second 
 degree; and the affectionate Mrs. O'Donagough hinted, just 
 before they left the vessel, that her feehngs were becoming so 
 strongly imperative for a reunion, that what she should best Kke 
 would be, to follow her relatives wheresoever they might be, in 
 town or country, sea-side or hill-side, amidst the enchanting 
 dissipation of a watering-place, or the soberer joys of their own 
 rural home. But Mr. O'Donagough thought it might be more 
 prudent to decide for or against this, according to circtunstances, 
 and the discussion had been broken off unfinished, by the arrival 
 of the custom-house oflScers on board. 
 
 It was now revived again, over the substantial tea-table, at 
 the Saracen's Head, both parties enjoying the advantage of 
 restored good-humour, and the only difference in their mode of 
 treating the subject being, that the lady truly believed the 
 question as to whether they should follow General Hubert to 
 his country-house to be in doubt, whereas the gentleman 
 exceedingly well knew that it was not. 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough certainly had his faults like other 
 mortals, but a positive love of wrangling was not one of them ; 
 
MUTATIONS. 77 
 
 and though, of course, like all other sensible married men, he 
 felt the necessity of having his own way, he always achieved it 
 with as little quarrelling as possible. He knew that "his 
 Barnaby " was a high-spirited woman, by no means disposed to 
 trot very easily under the matrimonial yoke, and decidedly prefer- 
 ring a little skirmish now and then, though she knew that she 
 must yield eventually, to the contemptible submissiveness of 
 living as if she had no will of her own at all. It had therefore 
 become almost habitual to him at all family consultations, 
 respecting the subject of which he had made up his mind before- 
 hand, to let her go on arguing as if it were still in doubt, and 
 uttering his fiat only at the moment when he could walk off, 
 and hear no more about it. 
 
 Respecting the immediate manner of their settling themselves 
 in England, however, he had not quite made up his mind. Not 
 that he had the sUghtest intention of scouring the country in 
 purauit of General Hubert, and still less of quartering himself 
 upon his household ; any advantages to be derived from that 
 quarter, he was quite aware, must besought for cautiously, and, 
 on his part at least, with considerable tact. But, notwith- 
 standing all his boasting on the subject of identity, he had still 
 a few nervous doubts as to the prudence of launching himself 
 once more upon the town. True, his sphere of action would be 
 greatly changed ; his age was changed ; his beard, with all its 
 fency et ceteras, was changed ; and, though not equally impor- 
 tant, his name was changed. Moreover, it was exceedingly 
 probable that the set he had left had changed too ; so that, on 
 the whole, he was pretty sanguine as to the possibiUty of 
 setthng himself as a gentleman of fashion and fortune in 
 London. He really believed that " his Barnaby " might assist 
 him in this ; which belief ass^^redly turned aside many a strong, 
 word, which without it might have chanced to wound her ears ; 
 and it was now with all possible civility that he hstened to her, 
 as she again burst forth vrith all the vehemence of strong affec- 
 tion on the subject of finding out and following Mrs. General 
 Hubert. 
 
 " I don't think I can live, my dear Donny, till the time you 
 say they are likely to come to town, without seeing her ! " said 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, laying aside upon the margin of her plate 
 the chicken-bone she had been polishing. " Think what a time 
 it is ! " 
 
 "^Very true, my dear! only we shall gain one advantage 
 that ought to console you. Were Mrs. Hubert in town at this 
 moment, Mrs. O'Donagough, I should deem it very disadvan- 
 tageous to introduce Martha to her. You may depend uponjt, 
 that none of the finery you may have brought over will be of 
 the right sort here." 
 
78 THE WIDOW MAKKIED. 
 
 " That I have no doubt in the world is true," replied his 
 wife, rejoicing beyond measure at this positive evidence of his 
 intending to '■'■new rig" them. "Even Patty herself, dear 
 creature ! young as she is, feels that, and was just saying so, as 
 we came along. But, Lord bless you, my dear Donny, aU that 
 can be set to rights in no time, in such a place as London, if 
 you will but let us have the money." 
 
 " No doubt of it, dear ; but we must be exceedingly careful, 
 I do assure you, in all things concerning that most important 
 article. On some occasions it must be spent, and freely too. 
 There is no help for it if we hope to do anything important. 
 But, for that very reason, we must keep a tight hand over it, 
 where we may do so without danger. Not that I mean to deny 
 you and Patty fine clothes. Quite the contrary. I know they 
 will be often necessary ; and, if things go well, you shall have 
 them." 
 
 On hearing this, Martha left her place at the table, where, 
 to say truth, she had made such good use of her time, as to 
 make her remaining there any longer quite unnecessary, and 
 walking round to her father's chair, testified the satisfaction 
 his last words had afforded her, by giving him a kiss. 
 
 " What, you like to hear that, do you, Pat ? Well, be a 
 good girl, and do in all things as I bid you, and you shall be as 
 fine as a queen. So butter me a piece of toast." 
 
 " Well, but my dearest O'Donagough," said his wife, quite 
 as well pleased by language so encouraging as her daughter, 
 and altogether in a state of mind the most enviable, " you must 
 not forget my darling Agues ! And you may be quite sure, 
 dear, that where she is, we may show off Patty to advantage. 
 For people in their rank of life never do poke themselves in 
 out-of-the-way places. Therefore I vote for driving to Berkeley- 
 square, learning from the servants where the family are passing 
 the summer, taking a lodging for a week, just for the purpose 
 of getting the things we most want, and then setting off to 
 enjoy the exquisite pleasure, the heartfelt satisfaction of placing 
 my lovely child in the bosom of my niece, and receiving her little 
 ones into mine! Shall it be so, dearest O'Donagough? TeU 
 me, is there any objection to a plan so every way delightful?" 
 
 " None in the world, my dear," replied her husband, gravely 
 proceeding with his meal. " Ring the bell, Patty, my dear ; I 
 must have a slice or two more ham." 
 
 "Then I may consider it as settled? Only think! in a 
 week's time I shaU present my child, my own beautiful daugh- 
 ,ter, to the wife of a general ! to a lady received at court ! with 
 dozens of titles among her nearest relations ; and, nevertheless, 
 our nearest relation into the bargain. I'U be hanged, Donny, 
 if it does not all seem like a dream I " 
 
COMFORTING ASSURAKCB. 79 
 
 " I dare say it does, my dear. Give me that back-bone, 
 Patty, and thigh along with it, if you will." . 
 
 " Then we may consider it as a settled thing, dear O'Dona- 
 gough, that we are to follow the Huberts immediately ?" 
 
 " You may consider it as a settled thing, my love, that to 
 set you and Patty off in the very best style is what I intend to 
 do ; and your relations, of course, ought to be among the first 
 to see it." 
 
 IMrs. Allen O'Donagough was wise enough to take counsnl 
 with herself before she said any more upon the subject ; and 
 being, notwithstanding all their seeming consultations on the 
 subject, most utterly ignorant of all her husband's real plots 
 and plans, she was, on the whole, inchned to flatter herself that 
 her wishes respecting their immediate destination would be 
 attended to ; for, as she justly observed to her daughter, when 
 they were alone, " clever as Mr. O'Donagough is about most 
 things, it is quite impossible he should know as much about the 
 dear Huberts as I do ! " 
 
 Thus, on the whole, their first evening in London was 
 passed in great domestic harmony ; but Mrs. O'Donagough and 
 her daughter both declaring themselves early ready for bed, 
 Mr. O'Donagough affectionately advised them to yield to the 
 inclination, and saying, almost in the words of Prospero — 
 
 'Tia a good dulness, 
 
 bid them good night, with the assurance that though he was 
 obliged to go out for half an hour, to get a refractory razor put 
 in order, he should also, probably, be very early in bed. He 
 then kindly lighted candles for them, nay, even opened the door 
 with a smile so gracious, and manner so observant, that Mrs. 
 O'Donagough was forcibly reminded of the fascinations of other 
 days ; and when he again wished her good night, as she passed 
 out, she too looked up at him, with a glance as like her forfner 
 glances as she could make it, at th-e same time, however, pat- 
 ting his chin playfully, she said, " Oh ! why did you cut off 
 your whiskers, dear ? " 
 
 " Why did I cut off my whiskers ? " he repeated, as soon as 
 the door was closed behind them. " That I might sally forth, 
 my charming Barnaby, as I will do this night, with the de- 
 lightful confidence of being recognised by no one." 
 
 The sensations produced on an Englishman by returning to 
 London after even a much shorter absence than that of Jlr. 
 AUen O'Donagough, are always powerful ; and, if no particular 
 circumstances exist to injure the effect, exceedingly dehghtful. 
 The stupendous world it incloses, is sure to have spread farther 
 and wider stiU, than when he left it. New displays of wealth — 
 
80 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 new demonstrations of the power it brings — new proofe of that 
 excess of civilisation, which, for laclc of other work, turns the 
 genius of man to the production of varieties in every article he 
 uses, because improvement can go no farther. All this he is 
 sure to see at every step he takes ; and then the aspect of all 
 those he meets, at once so familiar to his memory, yet personally 
 so utterly unknown. The features, the comiDlexion, the gait, 
 bringing to his eye and his heart associations a thousand times 
 more intimately belonging to him, notwithstanding the indi- 
 vidual strangeness of each, than he could ever have felt in the 
 foreign land whence he returned. Of all this Mr. Allen 
 O'Donagough was fully conscious, and the excitement it pro- 
 duced was exceedingly jigreeable. 
 
 As he walked farther and farther westward, these pleasant 
 sensations multiphed; his heart swelled with a well-balanced 
 mixture of national and individual triumph; and, notwith- 
 standing all the awkward accidents of his past hfe, he would 
 have been sorry to run the risk of changing conditions with any 
 person he met. He knew he must have been a monstrously 
 clever fellow, to be where and what he was at that moment ; 
 and he felt this with a very natural degree of satisfaction at the 
 conviction. After aU that had passed, the particulars of which, 
 even to himself, he did not think it necessary to recapitulate — 
 after all this, at the age of fifty-three, to find himself parading 
 the streets of London, clear as a new-born babe from every 
 taint of civil sin, and with his pockets fuU of cash, that no man 
 could seize upon, and cry, " Rascal ! that cash is mine ! " was a 
 degree of prosperity that might well make him feel some inches 
 taller than usual as he walked. 
 
 It was by an impulse that had as much of instinct in it as 
 will, that he at length found himself among the billiard-rooms 
 of Leicester Square and its precincts. The unsightly Palais 
 Koyal of London surrounded him on all sides ; and as he looked 
 at its increased glow of gaslight, and breathed the queer mixture 
 with which it has there pleased man to supply his lungs, in 
 lieu of atmospheric air, he felt that he was once again at 
 
 HOME ! 
 
 It wonld have required a much stronger effort than he con- 
 ceived himself called upon to make, to avoid entering beneath 
 one of the many roofs, which by night and day sheltered the 
 devotees who pass their existence in making three little ivory 
 balls run about and knock each other. He did enter ; and 
 mounting the stairs with a step as eager, though less active 
 than heretofore, found himself, not without some emotion, on a 
 spot where he had stood a thousand times before. 
 
 There were many persons in the room ; but he looked round, 
 and saw not one single face that he remembered, till the marker, 
 
THE PLEASURES OF IXCOGNITO. 81 
 
 changing his place, displayed to him features, one? as famil'-ar 
 to his eye as the dial on which he scored his games ; but with 
 an expression which, though not changed, was marked by lines 
 so much stronger and deeper than heretofore, that the man 
 looked like a caricature of his former self. 
 
 At first sight of him, Mr. Alien O'Donagough started, and 
 felt half inchned to turn about, and make his exit before he had 
 caught his eye. But his better judgment told him that by so 
 doing he would lose an excellent opportunity of testing the 
 effect of his altered appearance on an old acquaintance, and be 
 forced to try it where it might perhaps be much more dangerous 
 to fail. He therefore stood his ground; and when he perceived 
 that the man's eye rested quietly and steadily on him, without 
 the slightest indication of ever having examined his features 
 before, his confidence increased sulBoiently to lead him into 
 conversation. The result was all that lis desired ; his observa- 
 tions were sufficiently scientific to merit even a marker's atten- 
 tion, and the man both looked at and listened to him, but still 
 without betraying any trace of remembrance whatever. While 
 suffering some Uttle anxiety from his doubts how this experi- 
 ment might answer, Mr. AUen O'Donagough probably forgot 
 the great advantage (under existing circumstances) of fifteen 
 years which had passed over his curls since he had last appeared 
 before the eyes which so fortunately knew him not. Of all his 
 advantages, perhaps this was the only one of which our ci-devant 
 major was not fuUy sensible. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the lightness and gaiety of heart 
 which ensued upon this successful experiment. He felt himself 
 born again into the only world in which he wished to hve ; 
 his outward skin, somewhat the worse for the wear, cast off, 
 all his talents ripened, and his character and name without 
 a stain ! 
 
 There was one triumph more, a touch of which he was 
 determined to enjoy without further delay. Mr. AUen O'Dona- 
 gough had played billiards when he left England, but he played 
 so much better now, that he could not but fancy his chance with 
 the professional individual who had formerly been the object of 
 his emulation and his envy, would be very different from what 
 it was in days past. He accordingly engaged him as soon as 
 the tables should be at leismre ; and when the moment arrived, 
 set about the game with almost as zealous a desire to win it, as 
 if he had staked ten times the amount they were to play for. 
 
 The play of Mr. Allen O'Donagough was certainly im- 
 proved ; perhaps that of the marker was improved also ; but 
 neither 'the one nor the other had lost or forgotten any of those 
 little peculiar touches of skill which distinguish one great bil- 
 liard-man from another. The marker's eye had perused the 
 
82 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 person and countenance of tte new comer, something as an 
 athlete of old might have done the conformation of one about 
 to wrestle with him ; and this survey had brought no single 
 trait or movement to his mind, which suggested a suspicion that 
 they had ever met before. No sooner, however, were the balls 
 in full action, than a particular stroke, for which our major had 
 been famous, awakened some long -forgotten manoeuvrings in 
 the marker's mind, and he suddenly turned round and directed 
 a stare pregnant with inquiry into the stranger's face. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, sir ; but may I ask your name? " said 
 the man, with great civUity. 
 
 " O'Donagough. What is your reason for asking?" was 
 the reply. But as he made it, the colour mounted over /the 
 ample cheeks of the incognito, and he felt he had made a 
 blunder. 
 
 " Only because that pretty hazard of yours put me so in mind 
 of a chap that used to play here half a score years ago, or more, 
 may be ; and I don't remember to have seen exact the same 
 stroke from any other man." 
 
 " Do you know this stroke ? " demanded Mr. Allen O'Dona- 
 gough, recovering himself, and performing a very skilful man- 
 oeuvre that he had learned from a New Orleans man, with whom 
 he had played at Sydney. 
 
 " No, sir ! No, upon my soul ! That is qtiite a foreign 
 stroke, I take it, — you have played abroad, sir, I'll be bound." 
 
 " I learnt that at New Orleans," replied Mr. Allen O'Dona- 
 gough. 
 
 " No wonder, sir, that you're a good player, then ; for I 
 have known New Orleans men as have beat us all hollow." 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough won his game, and retired ; having 
 received a hint which he felt ■ might be very useful to him. 
 " Egad ! I must shave my play, as well as my mustache, if I 
 intend to remain incog," was the thought that passed through 
 his head, as he gaily proceeded to reconnoitre, during another 
 hour or so, the various alterations, additions, and improvements 
 made during his absence throughout aU the regions that' he 
 knew and loved the best. But like a prudent domestic man as 
 he was, he returned soon after midnight to the Saracen's Head, 
 having just done and seen enough to make him equally sanguine 
 and impatient as regarded the variety of brilliant experiments 
 which lay before him. 
 
MB. o'donagough's plahs. 83 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 If the result of Mr. Allen O'Donagough's experiment upon 
 the memory of the billiard-marker had been productive of satis- 
 faction to himself, its consequences were more gratifying still to 
 his lady. Little as he had said about it, his private intention 
 }iad been to keep as much as possible out of the way of General 
 Hubert, and all the brilhant set in wliich he presumed him to 
 move, till he should be prepared to meet him advantageously. 
 
 The first step towards this was, the ascertaining that his 
 own altered appearance was likely to prevent all danger of dis- 
 agTeeable reminiscences ; the second must, of course, consist in 
 preparations for assuming such an appearance and manner of 
 life as might justify the ambitious hope of being received as a 
 relation. 
 
 To this he attached quite as much importance as his wife, 
 though he said much less about it, and was determined to 
 hazard more, and run greater risks to obtain it, than it ever 
 entered into her head to hope for. 
 
 Mr. AHen O'Donagough had ever been a man of spirit and 
 enterprise ; and having paid the penalty, almost inevitable in 
 his hne, upon indulging with too little caution in the display of 
 his pecuhar talents, he now determined, with ripened age, and 
 ripened wisdom, to carry on business with that species of bold- 
 ness and prudence united, which is only to be found in the very 
 highest class of his profession. During many years of his resi- 
 dence in New South Wales, his purpose had been to make Paris 
 the theatre of his future experiments ; but he saw, or fancied 
 he saw, in the remarkable accident which had brought him 
 within reach of such persons as his wife claimed kindred with, 
 the possibihty of a career infinitely more distinguished than he 
 had ever before ventured to hope for. There was considerable 
 sagacity displayed in the reasoning by which he convinced him- 
 self that the very circumstances that seemed to render such 
 hopes almost ridiculously audacious, would, in reality, make 
 their attainment easy. Had General Hubert, and the wealthy 
 and distinguished persons with whom he was connected, been 
 less completely above all and everything with which Mr. AUen 
 O'Donagough had mixed himself during his former life, there 
 migtt, and must have been danger, notwithstanding his changed 
 appearance, of such accidental allusions to past scenes, as it 
 might have been very difficult to get over. But, as it was, 
 nothing of the kind could be at all Kkely to occur ; and having 
 once made up his mind to hazard, as a necessary outlay, a con- 
 siderable portion of the money he had contrived to make, he 
 
 F 2 
 
84 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 became almost as impatient to open the campaign as Mrs. 
 O'Donagough herself. 
 
 During the course of the following day much business was 
 got through. By inquiries made according to Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough's suggestion in Berkeley-square, it was ascertained that 
 General Hubert's family were at Brighton. By boldly parading 
 through all the different haunts where formerly he was best 
 known, Mi*. O'Donagough found there was no danger whatever 
 of his being recognised as the flash Major AUen, once so con- 
 spicuous among them. By the placing an English bank-note 
 for twenty pounds in the hands of his wife, with a declaration, 
 that it was to be wholly expended, in the decoration of herself 
 and her daughter, he produced in the hearts of both a throb of 
 pleasure which few things in this life can equal ; and laid the 
 foundation of two wardrobes, which were destined for years to 
 be the admiration of many beholders. And, by placing himself 
 in the hands of a first-rate German artist in St. James's-street, 
 he was not only sure of coming forth from them as near in 
 shape and air to the standard he desired to obtain, as it was 
 possible for mortal shears to make him ; but with as much safety 
 as any precaution could insure of not permitting his person to 
 be studied by any operator, who had ever enjoyed that advan- 
 tage before. 
 
 In addition to all this, the active O'Donagough contrived, 
 before the day was. half over, to have himself and his appen- 
 dages established in private lodgings in Hatton-garden, where, 
 by the aid of a neighbouring ham-shop, and a httle lodging- 
 house cookery, they contrived to live for a week at very trifling 
 expense. 
 
 But what a week of ecstasy it was ! And how fully was it 
 demonstrated in the case of Mrs. O'Donagough, that mind is 
 omnipotent over matter ! Few people enjoyed " nice things" 
 as she was wont to call them ; that is to say, such eating as 
 particularly suited her fancy, with more keen relish than Mrs. 
 O'Donagough ; ■ yet, during this week of strongly-excited sensi- 
 bihties, although nothing of an edible nature was set before her 
 that she could upon reflection approve, she scarcely uttered a 
 murmiir. Tough steaks, and greasy cutlets appeared, and were 
 consumed almost without an observation ; while the soaring 
 spirit enjoyed a banquet in the contemplation of caps, bonnets, 
 gowns, and mantles, not yet perceptible to the eye, perhaps, 
 but of which the intellectual faculties were fully cognisant, 
 which rendered all grosser gratifications contemptible. 
 
 " I do enjoy my porter, though ! " uttered after the dismissal 
 of a peculiarly unmanageable specimen of what is called animal 
 food, was almost the only symptom betrayed by Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough of her being aUve to anything of the kind. 
 
SOCIAL STATUS DISCUSSED. 85 
 
 At length, 
 
 Industrions man had done bis part, 
 
 and industrious women also. " The things,'" were all sent home, 
 and all that remained to be done before their places were taken 
 for Brighton, was " to pack them up," as Patty said, " so that 
 they might all come out, looking as lovely and beautiful as when 
 they were put in." 
 
 " And where are we to leave all the rubbish we have brought 
 over, Donny, while we make this delightful little trip ? " 
 inquired his lady. 
 
 Air. O'Donagough had hired a garret in the house for the 
 purpose — ^Mr. O'Donagough had secured three outside places by 
 the earliest coach — ^Mr. O'Donagough had, with his own hands, 
 brought home a little basket in which their necessary refresh- 
 ments during the following day were to be deposited — ^in short, 
 IS'Ir. O'Danagough had forgotten nothing. 
 
 " Well now, everything seems smooth before us," said Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, over their last Hatton-garden tea-table, " Oh 1 
 my darling Agnes ! How I do long to get at her ! By-the-by, 
 Donny, I do think it was rather siUy of you never to let me 
 mention to her the time of our coming over. If I had, they 
 would be expecting us, and I am not quite certain if I ^ould 
 not like that better than taking them by surprise." 
 
 " We have discussed that matter already, my dear," replied 
 her peaceable husband. " My notion was, that it would be 
 better to take them by surprise, and I think so still." 
 
 " Well ! that's settled now, so there is no good in talking 
 any more about it. But don't you think that if they were any 
 of them to see Patty and me scrambling down from the top of 
 the coach, they might think it did not look as if we were really 
 people of fashion, as you have aU along promised weshould be ?" 
 said his wife. 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough paused a little before he replied. 
 This was one of the points upon which his system of tactics 
 dictated very strong regulations, and though he was very sleepy, 
 and much naore inclined to dose than to talk, having secured 
 himself from slipping off the horse-hair bottomed chair, by 
 fixing his feet upon the mantelpiece, he roused himself suffici- 
 ently to express what he thought the occasion called for. 
 
 " As to that, my dear, and, indeed, as to all things of the 
 same kind, it is quite necessary that you, and Patty too, should 
 understand matters thoroughly at once. I do mean that we 
 should appear like people of fashion — I am making immense 
 sacrifices, and running enormous risks for this purpose ; but it 
 is altogether childish and siUy to suppose that this can be done 
 by people no richer than we are, witho'ut a vast deal of very 
 
86 THE WIDO'W MARRIED. 
 
 clever management. The real secret is, Mrs. O'Donagough, to 
 keep all your contrivances out of sight ; and if you can find out 
 the way to do that, it don't signify a single straw what saving 
 tricks you practise behind the scenes. As to my driving about 
 the country like your fine cousins and nieces, and I don't know 
 what all — ^it is perfect madness to dream of such a thing — ^I give 
 you my honour that I should be in jail before I was six months 
 older. But if we all carry on the war upon the same principle, 
 setting our wits to work, one and all, to save money when no- 
 body is looking at us, and to spend it in good style when they 
 are, we may go on making an excellent appearance, and with no 
 danger of getting into a scrape either. Do you imderstand what 
 I mean, Patty?" 
 
 " Oh ! dear yes, papa, I do indeed ; and I think it is a very 
 good way. I never do care how dirty or shabby my clothes are 
 when I am out of sight, so that I can be smart when I go out 
 to be seen," was the^ young lady's reply. 
 
 " Kiss me, darling ! " said the delighted father, who was 
 really becoming more fond of her every day ; " that is exactly 
 the principle on which we must all act ; and I hope, Mrs. O'D., 
 that you intend to be as reasonable about it as your daughter ?" 
 
 " Let ine alone for that sort of thing, O'Donagough. I 
 don't beHeve that there is a woman in the world who would be 
 more capable of sacrificing everything to the making a good 
 appearance, than I should. I was always brought up from my 
 earhest infancy to think a great deal of it. My poor, dear 
 mother, I am sure, never thought of anything else, and I should 
 be sorry if my daughter did not come after me with the same 
 right feehngs. All that is to be said, therefore, about this 
 • going outside, is just that we must take care not to be seen or 
 known." 
 
 " That is quite right, my dear, and speaking like yourself. 
 This time, of course, there can be no danger, as nobody that 
 you ever saw in your hfe before would be likely to find you 
 out on the top of the Brighton coach. However, as a general 
 rule, it may be well to remember, that on all such occasions, the 
 best and safest way is to make yourself look as little like what 
 you are as possible. So that instead of being rather better 
 dressed than the rest of the company on the top of a coach, 
 people that understand the sort of thing that we have in view 
 would take care to be the worst. For just observe : now, sup- 
 posing we sat opposite to some sharp-sighted body, who, having 
 scoured us from hat to shoe, should make up his wise noddle to 
 beUeve that we were tallow-chandlers, taking our daughter from 
 the melting to get a puff of sea-air. Well, suppose that same 
 person saw us afterwards, in the very best and grandest society, 
 would he not be ten times less likely to know us in our fine 
 
MISS MARTHA CASTS HEK FEATHERS. 87 
 
 traps, than if we had worn something in the same shape and 
 fashion when lie met us on the coach ? " 
 
 " That's very true, my dear," said Mrs. O'Donagough, " and 
 late as it is, I think I shall take the hint, and make some little 
 alteration in what I was going to wear. You understand the 
 sort of thing, Patty, that your papa means, don't you, my 
 dear ? " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure I do, and you shall see if I can't make a 
 good sight of myself ! " replied Miss Patty, starting away from 
 the tea-table ; and seizing upon one of the bonnets that lay on 
 the top of a trunk ready for ^he morrow^ she began to take out 
 pins, and demolish bows at a great rate. 
 
 " My dear chUd, what are you about ? " cried her mother ; 
 " you ain't going to waste aU that good ribbon, I hope ? " 
 
 " Waste it ! How can you talk such nonsense, mamma, as if 
 that was what papa wanted ? No, I won't waste it, but do just 
 look here ; don't I look like a vulgar dowdy ? " 
 
 " Well, to be sure, fine feathers do make fine birds, there is 
 no denying it," said Mrs. O'Donagough, looking with some 
 mixture of vexation at Martha's very successful attempt to 
 make herself look a vulgar dowdy. 
 
 " Capital, girl ! " cried her father, chuckhng. " She is up to 
 everything." 
 
 At an early hour the next morning, the active, enterprising, 
 hopeful trio, were making as much noise in their sittiiig-room 
 as if a dozen ordinary persons were about to take their departure 
 from it. 
 
 " Pray, pray don't set that box up on end ! It has got both 
 our best bonnets in it ! " cried the elderly lady. 
 
 " Oh, my ! that's aU the artificial flowers for mamma and 
 me ! " screamed the young one, fiercely extricating a deal case 
 from the hands of the maid, who was irreverently jerking it out 
 the way. 
 
 "Make the tea, can't you?" bawled Mr. O'Donagough to 
 his wife, " The branch coach will be here in a minute, and I 
 positively wiU not stir an inch till I have had my breakfast." 
 
 At length, however, they were snugly accommodated ; 
 father, mother, daughter, packages, and all ; not only on the 
 branch coach, but on the very vehicle itself that was to convey 
 them to the goal of their wishes. But this was not effected 
 without some difficulty, Mrs. O'Donagough was large, and 
 none of her adventures had hitherto accustomed her to such a 
 degree of activity as was necessary to bring her to the place she 
 was to occupy, so that the assistance of a man putting the last 
 touch to the luggage on the roof, as well as that of Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, who was stationed below, was required to aid the opera- 
 tion. The young lady had skipped up with great agility, the 
 
80 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 moment her father indicated to her the place where she was to 
 sit ; and while her mamma was mounting, she stood up, clapping 
 her hands, and shouting with laughter, as she watched the 
 difficult process. After this first impediment to their setting oS 
 had been overcome, however, nothing could be more prosperous 
 or satisfactory than their journey ; the whole family, each in 
 their respective style, ably sustained the incognito which had 
 been enjoined. Mr. O'Donagough, during the entire distance, 
 preserved total silence. Mrs. O'Donagough talked a good deal, 
 it being an exercise to which she was too much accustomed, to 
 leave it off without great inconvenience ; but she so cautiously 
 avoided every allusion to her own dignity, and so steadily ab- 
 stained from addressing either of her companions by name, that 
 a young Sussex farmer, who was the person to whom she chiefly 
 addressed herself, would have been a very clever fellow, indeed, 
 had her conversation left information of any kind upon his 
 mind. Miss O'Donagough as steadily kept in view the part 
 she had to perform, as either father or mother ; but this did not 
 prevent her from looking pretty constantly in the face of the 
 young farmer, thinking, however, all the time, how very much 
 handsomer her dear Jack was. 
 
 According to his usual system, Mr. O'Donagough, while 
 appearing to consult his wife on many points with the most 
 amiable conjugal confidence, had hitherto uttered nothing defi- 
 nitive respecting his projects on arriving at Brighton ; and ia 
 this he acted wisely, as before he could be said to know what he 
 intended himself, he had one or two httle experiments to make, 
 and one or two questions to ask. 
 
 The first words he had been heard to utter since he placed 
 himself beside his daughter, on the top of the vehicle, were 
 spoken to that young lady as soon as herself and her ponderous 
 mamma were once more safely lodged on the pavement, and they 
 ran thus, as he eyed the waiter, who came forth from the hotel 
 at which the coach stopped : 
 
 " I suppose the thing you would like best to do just at pre- 
 sent, would be to eat, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 " Well done you for a good guess, papa ! " replied Miss 
 Patty, in high glee, " and you couldn't be more right if I had 
 been a glass case,, and you had seen through me. 'Tis good 
 news hearing that word, isn't it, mamma ? " 
 
 " Indeed it is, Patty," rephed Mrs. O'Donagough ; " I feel 
 perfectly sinking and exhausted. It is no joke, travelling from 
 London to Brighton, with nothing on earth to keep soul and 
 body together, but a miserable dry sandwich of salt ham." 
 
 " Come, come, let's have no grumbling ! " cried Mr. 
 O'Donagough, turning sharply round from the waiter to whom 
 he had been giving his orders. " If you will follow this person 
 
THE GLOEIES OF BRIGHTON. 89 
 
 up stairs, he Tvill show you into a sitting-room, while I see after 
 all your multitude of boxes." 
 
 " Grumbling ! " muttered Mrs. O'Donagough, in reply, " I 
 should like to know where the most grumbUng comes from ? " 
 But perceiving her husband to be no longer within hearing, she 
 peaceably followed the waiter into the room to which he led 
 them, and only indulged herself by saying, as he opened or shut 
 the window — drew the blinds up or drew them down — or em- 
 ployed himself on some other of the numerous assiduities which 
 denote the presence of a waiter, " Let everything in the way of 
 refreshment which the gentleman has ordered be of the very 
 best that the place can furnish ; and let it all be brought with 
 as httle delay as possible — that is, I mean to say, instantly." 
 
 "Why, mamma!" cried Miss Patty, who the instant the 
 waiter had quitted the window, flew to throw it open as widely 
 as the sash would permit, "this place is more lovely, ten times 
 over, than even London itself ! My ! what a sight of beautiful 
 full-dressed gentlemen I do see crossing along at the bottom of 
 the street ! And such bonnets ! I shall grow wild, I can tell 
 you that, if I am kept in long, either for eating, or drinking, or 
 anything else. Why there's oflBcers by dozens, mamma ! Oh! 
 my goodness! what a dehghtful place ! " 
 
 Her indulgent mother did not long delay to station her own 
 ample person beside the juvenOe form of her dehghted daughter ; 
 and so much was there within reach of their eager eyes, as they 
 fearlessly tlnrust forward their heads and shoulders to obtain a 
 view of the point where the street opened upon the Marine- 
 parade, that, hungry as they were, the cold meat and porter 
 arrived before they had more than once turned round their heads 
 to look for them. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough entered in the wake of the tray, and for 
 some reason or other seemed in high good-humour. " Come 
 along, both of ye ! " he exclaimed, gaily. " The deuce is in it 
 if you are not ready. 'Tis wonderful how quickly the sea air 
 gets hold of one." And then seating himself before a prodi- 
 gious mass of cold beef, he began to handle the cutlass-like 
 weapon which was placed beside it, with such skilful zeal, that 
 his fair companions seemed to forget for a while all earthly 
 blessings, save such as he heaped upon the plates before them. 
 
 " And what do you think of Brighton, Miss Patty ? " said 
 he, as distinctly as his occupation would aUow. 
 
 " It is a beautiful divine glory of a place, papa ! " rephed 
 Patty; " and I am sure I shall like it a monstrous deal better 
 than London." 
 
 " It really does seem an enchanting spot, Donny," said his 
 wife, setting down an empty beer-glass, of majestic size ; " and 
 if things go on weU here, about the Huberts, and everything 
 
90 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 else, you know, I do hope and trust you will give us a decent 
 lodging, and let us enjoy ourselves." 
 
 *' I shall be able to tell you more about it, my dear, an hour 
 hence," replied Mr. Allen O'Donagougli, continuing to carve 
 and to eat with a degree of celerity tliat not only showed his 
 seaward appetite, but proved his time to be precious. " As 
 soon as you have done eating, you must go into the room where 
 I have had all the luggage stowed, and let us see what's what 
 a little. You must unpack right away the trunk that has the 
 things which came from the tailor's for me — and Patty, when 
 you have done cramming, I'll get you to look out my shaving 
 tackle ; I shall want the ke^-ot the hat-box too. Come along, 
 both of ye, there's good girW." 
 
 " Lor, papa ! Do stopj'a moment. You never do care for 
 tarts, like mamma and me.p 'Tisn't fair to take us away in the 
 very midst of our treat," said Patty, making, however, no un- 
 necessary delay as she spoke. 
 
 " You must stop a httle, if you please," added his wife, in 
 like manner continuing her employment, with all possible 
 activity. " 'Tis such abominable extravagance to pay for things 
 and not eat them." 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough listened to reason, and continued 
 to amuse himself with a crust of bread and cheese, till the last 
 tartlet disappeared, when starting up he exclaimed, " Now for 
 it, then — I want to be stirring, 1 promise you ! " 
 
 " But to be sure you are not going to dress yourself in new 
 clothes before you go out to look for lodgings, Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, are you? Patty and I must go as we are, I can tell you 
 that," said Mrs. (i'Donagough. 
 
 " I declare I will do no such thing, mamma ! " cried the 
 young lady, bursting into open rebellion ; " I would no more go 
 out and meet all those beautiful officers in that horrid bonnet 
 and shawl, than Pd fly. I would rather be whipped a great 
 deal." 
 
 " Nonsense, Patty ! " replied her mother. " It is much 
 better to do that, I can tell you, than to begin the thing half- 
 and-half. You may be quite sure, my dear, that there is not 
 one of them will know you again when they see you in your 
 pink satin bonnet, and your beautiful pink scarf." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourselves to squabble any more about it, 
 for you are not to go out with me at present, let your dress be 
 what it may," said the gentleman. 
 
 " Not go out with you, O'Donagough ? " exclaimed his wife, 
 with equal disappointment and surprise. " Why, you don't 
 mean to take lodgings for us, without ever letting me see them? " 
 
 " No, my dear, of course, not for my eyes ! I am not going to 
 take lodgings, Mrs. O'Donagough, but only just to take a look 
 
CHANGE FEOM GAT TO GRAVE. 91 
 
 at the place, and judge whether our taking lodgings here at all 
 would be likely to answer or not." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough understood her husband's voice, and 
 knew that he most certainly would go out alone. So, without 
 further opposition, she- prepared to obey his behests, and 
 having done her part in finding the various articles he wanted, 
 left the room followed by her daughter, without making any 
 further observations on his mode of proceeding. But though 
 she made the chamber-door in some degree slam after her, the 
 sitting-room window soon restored her good humour, and she 
 and her daughter continued to recreate themselves by gazing 
 through it, at all things within reach of their eyes, wholly in- 
 sensible to the progress of time. 
 
 How long they had remained thus pleasantly engaged they 
 would have been at a loss to say, when at length their attention 
 was drawn from without, by opening of the door behind them. 
 They both turned their heads at the same moment, and saw a 
 gentleman enter the room, whom, at the first glance, neither of 
 them recognised — ^yet, nevertheless, it was no other than Mr. 
 O'Donagough himself. He was dressed very handsomely in a 
 suit, wMch, though not exactly mourning, and not exactly 
 clerical, might, at the first glance, have been mistaken for either. 
 But the circumstance which, though seemingly trifling, made 
 the change in his general appearance the most remarkable, was 
 his having substituted a wHte mushn cravat, without any shirt- 
 collar being visible, for his usual black stock, above which was 
 wont to arise two weU-stiifened ears, of dimensions considerably 
 larger than common. This, and the metamorphosis his hair had 
 undergone, which, when he left the room had been "sable 
 silvered," but when he re-entered, it presented a wavy, yet 
 closely- fitted outhne of looks, nearly flaxen, made him look so 
 totally unlike himself, that when at length his wife and daughter 
 became aware of his identity, they both burst into violent 
 laughter. 
 
 " What on earth, O'Donagough, have you been doing to 
 yourself? " cried his wife, as soon as she recovered the power of 
 speaking. " You look fifty times more like a methodist parson 
 than anything else. Your coat, and all that, is very new, and 
 very nice, certainly ; but I can't say I approve the change at 
 all. What with your shaving, and all the rest, you have 
 altogether lost the look of a man of fashion, which I used to 
 admire so much in you." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough looked steadily in his wife's face, for half 
 a moment, and then said very gravely, " I am not so young as 
 I have been, my dear, any more than yourself; and I am 
 inchned to think now, that a respectable appearance is more to 
 be desired than a dashing one." 
 
92 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 The steady look was not removed for another half-moment 
 after he had finished speaking, and when it was, his wife had 
 not only ceased to laugh, but said in accents quite as demure as 
 his own, " I am sure I am quite of the same opinion, Mr. 
 O'Donagough. When one is going to mix with families of 
 distinction, there is nothing so important as an air of dignity 
 and — and — of superior style and character, and aU that sort of 
 thing. You look very nice indeed, Mr. O'Donagough, and I 
 promise you I, for one, shall be exceedingly angry with Patty, 
 if ever she gives a look, or says a word, or giggles and titters, or 
 gives any sign whatever, of your appearing different from what 
 you used to do." 
 
 " You may depend upon it, my dear, Patty knows a great 
 deal better than to do anything half so vulgar and silly. She 
 certainly knows very little about most things as yet ; but she is 
 not such a fool either as to laugh at her own father, or try to 
 make other people laugh at him on account of his dress or any- 
 thing else. K I am laughed at, she will be quite sure that no 
 very great notice will be taken of her." 
 
 " You need not be afraid of me," said Patty, turning again 
 to the window. " Papa knows how to take care of himself, and 
 what will go down best with the grandee cousins you talk so 
 much about, there's no doubt about that ; and so he don't take it 
 into his head that I oflght to look like an old quiz too, I shall 
 say nothing to nobody about him." 
 
 " That's a first-rate girl, Mrs. O'D. ; and if fair play is 
 given her, I'll lay my fife on it, she will make her fortune," said 
 the well-satisfied father. 
 
 " It is not the first time that has been said of her, my dear," 
 repHed his wife, with a nod of the head that meant a great deal. 
 " It is not a httle that wiU content me for her, I promise you. 
 But get along, Donny, don't waste any more time talking — I 
 shall be dying to see you back again, and know something about 
 what's to become of us next," 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough obeyed her, but said nothing; and his 
 wife being rather tired of standing, drew a chair to the window, 
 and seating herself beside the still unwearied Patty, beguiled 
 the time by teaching her how to know colonels, majors, captains, 
 and lieutenants, by their uniforms. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough meanwhile, with a hat of rather larger 
 dimensions than was at that time usual, and a stout elderly- 
 looking walking-stick, sallied forth to perambulate the streets 
 of Brighton, for the first time for rather more than fifteen years. 
 Had he, however, been a greater stranger there still, he might 
 have taken less pains in preparing for this expedition. But the 
 time had been when few places knew him better ; and before he 
 could conscientiously feel himself justified in indulging the wife 
 
VISIONS or THE PAST. 93 
 
 of his bosom by once more taWng up his quarters there, he 
 deemed it necessary to ascertain how lasting miglit be the im- 
 pression he had left on the minds of the permanent inhabitants. 
 Here, too, as ia the famihar purheus of Leicester-square, there 
 ■were haunts over the nature and destination of which, time 
 seemed to have no power. "Wliere biUiard-balls rolled in days 
 of yore, he found them rolling still ; the same sights, and the 
 same sounds, greeted him in the self -same places ; and so little 
 changed was the aspect of these minor features, that tiU he 
 looked more widely round him, and perceived that unless brick 
 and mortar had obeyed the commands of some enchanted lamp, 
 years must indeed have passed since last he stood there, he could 
 almost have fancied that he had pocketed his last Brighton 
 winnings but yesterday. 
 
 Though very far, in general, from being the plaything of his 
 own imagination, Mr. Allen O'Donagough stood hesitating for 
 a moment, whether or not he should enter a certain doorway, 
 leading to what he remembered to have been the most approved 
 rendezvous for gentlemen of his own class, when Brighton was 
 one of his many homes. It was not because he feared the keen 
 eye of a marker — when much less carefully equipped for such 
 an encounter, he had stood this test triumphantly (despite even 
 his '■'■pretty hazard "). But fifteen years before, there dwelt in 
 that dusky mansion, a pair of the very brightest eyes that had 
 ever looked upon liim. The hght young figure too, and the 
 gay ready smile of her to whom they belonged, were as fresh 
 in his memory as if he had left these also but yesterday. He 
 had made this reckless, thoughtless thing beheve he loved her ; 
 and in return, she had given but too certain proof that 
 she loved him. The house before which he stood had been her 
 father's. Did she dwell there still? And would she know 
 him? 
 
 These were the questions which caused the middle-aged, 
 respectable-looking, Mr. Allen O'Donagough to pause and 
 hesitate before a door, which he ought to have entered quickly, 
 or have passed with scorn. He felt that he might be exposing 
 himself needlessly to a great risk, but yet the trial might be 
 worth making, for, if successful, he conceived it impossible he 
 could ever be tormented by such doubts and feaTs again. 
 
 This consideration at length nerved him to the enterprise, 
 and he went ia. There was the same scent of ill-extinguished 
 lamps as he advanced, and as it seemed, the identical much- worn 
 oil-cloth under his feet ; there was, too, within a glass inclosure 
 at the foot of the staircase, a gaily dressed female. It was 
 there, exactly there, that his bright-eyed Susan used to sit ; it 
 was there he had seen her for the first time ; and there, little as 
 she guessed it at the moment, and httle, perhaps, as he himself 
 
94 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 intended it should be so, he had looked upon her the last. He 
 now stared at tiie stout, gaudily-decked woman before him, and 
 though feehng something, perhaps, a little akin to disappoint- 
 ment, it was a relief to know that there was not any danger to 
 be run from deep impressions on poor Susan's memory. 
 
 " They are playing up stairs as usual, I suppose? " said he, 
 stopping before the open window-frame, at whloh sat the capa- 
 cious barmaid. 
 
 The woman started, and looked up, but as soon as her eyes 
 encountered the respectable fig-ure of Mr. O'Donagough, she 
 looked down again upon the page on which she was writing, 
 and quietly rephed, " Yes, sir." 
 
 That glance, however, which had sufficed to deceive her, had 
 undeceived Mm. They were Susan's eyes, and none other, that 
 had looked upon him ; and though girlish dehcacy of every 
 kind was sadly merged, and lost in most coarse womanhood, he 
 felt perfectly save of the identity. 
 
 "Is the room crowded, ma'am?" he resumed, willing 
 again to see those beautiful eyes, so altered, yet the same. 
 
 Again the woman started, and before she answered drew 
 aside a curtain that obscured the hght of the window behind 
 her, when the last light of the setting sun fell fuU upon his 
 face. But this, instead of producing danger, most effectually 
 saved him from it ; the Susan of former days again looked 
 steadily at him for a moment, and then slightly smiUng, pro- 
 bably at the suspicion to which his voice had given birth, she 
 replied, " Upon my word, sir, I don't know." 
 
 As if aflfronted by the abruptness of the reply, he turned 
 suddenly away, and walked out. 
 
 " She does not know me," he murmured as he went ; " and 
 if she does not, no one will." 
 
 'there was, perhaps, one little grain of mortification, mixed 
 in the full bushel of satisfaction produced by this experiment ; 
 but if so, our adventurer was too wise a man to sift for it. 
 With an alert and active step he repaired to the more fashion- 
 able part of the gay town, and within a Kttle more than one 
 hour of the time he had left them, Mr. O'Donagough returned 
 to his family with the agreeable intelhgence that he had seen 
 some very handsome apartments on the Marine Parade, and 
 that they might take possession of them immediately, if they 
 approved of them. 
 
A FAMILY PAUTY ON THE BEACU. 95 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A DOMESTIC-LOOKING party, consisting of a very lovely 
 young woman and two children, with another lady, who might, 
 perhaps, be t'heir governess, were seated upon one of the rare 
 masses of stone, which, in default of better, are at Brighton 
 called rocks ; when the occupation of each was suspended by 
 the approach of a gentleman, who had just descended a flight of 
 steps, leading down the cliff. The lovely lady ceased to con- 
 verse with the more homely one, who sat beside her ; the 
 youngest child suffered a whole frock-load of marine-treasures 
 to fall again amidst the shingles, whence she had culled them, 
 while she darted forward to greet the intruder ; and the elder one, 
 who was too tall to be called a hctle girl, and too slight and 
 juvenile in appearance to be classed as a great one, shut up the 
 book she was reading, and joyously exclaimed, " Papa ! " 
 
 " Plow very cool and comfortable you all look here I " said 
 General Hubert — for he it was who drew near; "and how 
 extremely skilful you have been in finding out the only ' coigne 
 of vantage ' that could produce sufficient shade to shelter you!" 
 
 " And it produces sufficient to shade you too, Montague," 
 said his wife, making room for him between herself and her 
 companion. "I am so glad you are come before the East- 
 Indiaman is out of sight ! Did you ever see a more stately 
 creature ? How beautifully one-half of her canvas catches 
 the sunshine, while the remainder is as dark as night from that 
 little black canopy of a cloud that so mysteriously hovers over 
 her ! This is certainly the most beautiful day for hghts and 
 shades that we have had yet." 
 
 " Oh, my poor Agnes ! " said the general, heaving a deep 
 sigh, but with so comic an expression of countenance as only 
 to make his wife smile. 
 
 " \VTiat means that tender sigh, my dear ? " said she, looking 
 at him with an evident expectation of hearing something that 
 would amuse her. But General Hubert shook his head, and 
 rephed in a voice at least half serious, — 
 
 " I am very much afraid, dearest, that I bring news which 
 will vex you." 
 
 "What do you mean, Hubert?" cried Agnes, a little im- 
 patiently ; " it cannot be anything the matter about the boys, 
 or you would not look so half-disposed to jest as you do." 
 
 " Probably not, Agnes. No, dearest, I have heard nothing 
 about the boys. But — " 
 
 And here he stopped, turning his eyes at the same time 
 upon the two little girls, and then with a smile upon their 
 
96 THE WIDOW MAERIED. 
 
 governess. This lady returning tlie smile, rose instantly, and, 
 stretching out a hand to either pupil, said, " This is lazy work, 
 young ladies ; remember, we have had no walk yet." 
 
 The children, or at any rate, the elder one, looked a little 
 inclined to linger and hear what papa was going to say ; but 
 the habit of obedience seemed too strong to be broken, and 
 after one short questioning look that received no encourage- 
 ment, she accepted the offered hand and the trio set off together, 
 leaving Mrs. Hubert waiting for the disclosure which her 
 husband was evidently come on purpose to make, with a 
 curiosity that seemed to increase in exact proportion to its delay. 
 
 " I do not like sending that dear, excellent Miss Wilmot off 
 so cavalierly," said the general, watching the retreating party ; 
 " nevertheless, I am much obliged to her for understanding my 
 look so readily ; for I should scarcely like to trust to your philo- 
 sophy, Agnes, the reception of the news I bring while Elizabeth 
 was here." 
 
 " But nobody is here now, my dear general ! " she replied ; "and 
 I implore you to tell me instantly what this terrible news is." 
 
 The general put his hand into his waistcoat-pocket and 
 drew forth from it two visiting-cards, and a three-cornered 
 note. Agnes stretched forth her hand — received them — and 
 read aloud — 
 
 "Mrs. a. O'Donagough. 
 " Miss O'Donagough. 
 
 East Cliff:' 
 and again on the other card — 
 
 "Mk. a. O'Donagough. 
 
 Bast Cliffy 
 
 "Montague! Are you jesting with me?" were the first 
 words uttered by Agnes after reading these most unexpected 
 names. 
 
 " No, truly am I not, Agnes," he replied. "I took these 
 cards and the note you hold in your hand, which was left with 
 them, from the hall-table as I entered the house ten minutes 
 ago ; and, guessing whereabouts I should find you, set off 
 again instantly to impart the news they convey. But do not 
 look so really and truly frightened, Agnes ! Aunt Barnaby is 
 Aunt Barnaby no longer." 
 
 Agnes shook her head: "Ah! Hubert, you know better 
 than that ! 
 
 A rose by any other name — 
 
 my dear, dear husband ! How will you be able to bear it? " 
 
 "You shall see, Agnes ; things are most delightfully changed 
 with me, dear love, since the days you seem to remember so 
 
Mits. o'donagough announces hek aerivai,. 97 
 
 distinctly wlieii the Barnaby, I will not deny it, had pover 
 very considerably to shake my nerves. But pray read your 
 note : I am a httle curious, I own, to see how she introduces 
 herself." , 
 
 Mrs. Hubert opened the note, and read aloud as follows : — 
 " You will easily beheve, my beloved Agnes, that amidst 
 all the dehghtful feelings produced by returning to my native 
 country, the hope of once more pressing you to my heart pre- 
 dominates. Gracious Heaven, what a moment it wiU be for 
 me when I present to you my darhng child, and when I receive 
 yours in my arms ! When may this be, my dearest niece ? Of 
 course, neither Mr. O'Donagough, or myself, or our sweet girl, 
 have any engagements that would interfere for a moment with 
 our ardent wish of seeing you and yours. I shall wait with 
 the greatest impatience till I hear from you, and trust that you 
 will fix no very distant hour, my beloved Agnes, for our meeting. 
 INIr. O'Donagough cliarges me to present his respectful compli- 
 ments to General Hubert ; and Martha, whose young eyes beam 
 vdth affection whenever your names are mentioned, murmurs 
 gently in my ear, ' Send my kind lova, mamma, to all my dear 
 young cousins.' For some few hngering hours, then, adieu, my 
 dear sister's own daughter ! and beheve me ever your devotedly 
 attached aunt, 
 
 " Maetha Compton O'Donagough." 
 
 Having finished this epistle, Mrs. Hubert put it into the 
 hands of her husband, as if it were imposssible that- he could 
 have fully received all its terrible meaning from her delivery of it. 
 As she did this, the expression of her fair face was so deplorably 
 tragical, and so humbly deprecative, that the general, though 
 somewhat chagrined himself at this unexpected announcement, 
 could not retain his gravity, but laughed aloud. 
 
 " And you make a jest of it, Montague! " she exclaimed ; 
 " is that laugh genuine ? or is it only feighed, to prevent my 
 perceiving how deeply annoyed you are? " 
 
 " Not feigned, upon my word and honour, Agnes. Nor do 
 I beheve that Aunt Betsy herself, though generally grave 
 enough upon the subject of Mrs. Barnaby, could refrain from 
 joining me were she here, to see your piteous countenance. 
 How can you be so foolish, my dear wife? How can the elder 
 lady, or her young daughter, or her very reverend husband, 
 possess any real power over our happiness now? Send her 
 word, dear, that you wiU call upon her at two o'clock to-mor- 
 row ; I wiU not let you go to-day, for you look fit for nothing 
 but a gallop over the downs. Come along, Agnes, I'll have the 
 horses out directly." 
 
 The gloom which had rested on her beautiful countenance, 
 
 a 
 
98 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 was chased by a smile as bright and sudden in its influence, as 
 the sunbeams whose effects she had just been studying. 
 
 _" Oh, my dear husband, how I do love you ! " said she, gaily 
 taking his arm, and moving towards the stairs in the cliff with 
 a step that seemed in imison with the recovered lightness of her 
 heart. " I hope you do not think my dismay at receiving this 
 unexpected news arises from my own personal distaste to Aunt 
 Barnaby's society ? I do assure you, that were it not for the 
 dread I feel lest you should be annoyed by her, somewhat in the 
 same style as I have witnessed formerly, I should not feel the 
 shghtest displeasure at it. Perhaps, even, I might be almost 
 able to persuade myself that I should hke to see her. Her little 
 girl I really do wish very much to see. She must be within a 
 few months of the same age as Elizabeth, and notwithstanding 
 all my greatness, Hubert, as your honoured wife, I have no 
 inclination to forget how nearly they are related." 
 
 " No more have I, sweet Agnes ; and it was precisely for 
 that reason, I gave the look to Miss Wilmot, which made her 
 lead away the children. I suspected that you would betray a 
 little more wonder, and a little less joy, on first receiving the 
 intelUgence, than might be easily forgotten. This would have 
 been unfair. I should not particularly wish Ehzabeth to make 
 Mrs. A. O'Donagough her model ; but I see no reason why a 
 little girl of her own age, who must have been brought up 
 simply at least, and without any great pretension, in the remote 
 shades of New South Wales, should not obtain such a share of 
 her love and good graces, as her near relationship gives her a 
 right to expect. So torment yourself no more, Agnes, about 
 my miseries on the subject. I could feel well inclined to laugh 
 at the vehemence of my own feelings, in days of yore, on the 
 subject of this poor lady, and do not, I assure you, anticipate 
 the least danger of a relapse." 
 
 " I often think, Montague," she rephed, " that you have 
 some mystical mode of reading my heart. It so perpetually 
 happens, that you do and say exactly the things I most wish, 
 even when circvunstances would lead me to expect something 
 different. But shall I confess that I now feel perfectly ashamed 
 of myself from the excess of vexation this three-cornered epistle 
 caused me ? solely, I beheve, from its expressions of familiar 
 affection. I was foolish enough to think, Hubert, that you 
 would not like your daughter to be claimed as a relative by 
 this obscure young cousin." 
 
 " Why, considering, Agnes, how many superlatively fine 
 relations you have done my daughter the honour of giving her 
 — ^Nesbitte and Stephensons without end — I really think it 
 would be unreasonable to complain of her being claimed as 
 kindred by one humble lassie who has neither learned her steps 
 
AI^ rS'VITATION TO BINNEE. 99 
 
 from a French opera-dancer, nor her singing from an Italian 
 opera-singer. I am by no means certain that our simple 
 EUzabeth may not like her best." 
 
 This conversation brought them to their own door ; on 
 reaching which a servant was despatched to the stables to order 
 their horses, and while they were waited for, Mrs. Hubert, after 
 a httle further consultation with her husband, wrote the fol- 
 lowing note : — 
 
 " My deax Aunt, 
 
 " Accept my best congratulations upon your return to 
 England after an absence of so many years, and let me fix two 
 o'clock to-morrow for repeating these congratulations in person. 
 I feel quite anxious to see my young cousin, who must be, if I 
 mistake not, about the same age as my eldest girl. I hope they 
 will be good friends and playfellows. 
 
 " General Hubert begs to join his request to mine, that Mr. 
 O'Donagough, yourself, and Martha, would give us the plea- 
 sure of your company at dinner on Thursday at six o'clock. 
 " Believe me, my dear Aunt, 
 
 " Your afiectionate niece, 
 
 " Agnes Hubert." 
 
 This note approved and despatched, Mrs.' Hubert, with a 
 lightened spirit, mounted her beautiful mare, and galloped for a 
 couple of hours over the Sussex downs with as much enjoyment 
 as if " Aunt Bamaby " had not been in existence. 
 
 Her note reached its destination safely, and was received by 
 the whole of the O'Donagough family in council. Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, though not exactly confessing that he remained at home 
 on purpose, contrived to be in the drawing-room when the ser- 
 vant of the house entered with it ; and Martha, who, from the 
 reiterated harangues of her mamma on the subject, had conceived 
 a very distinct idea, that most of her pleasures, and all her 
 consequence, depended on the manner in which " the Huberts" 
 received them, no sooner saw a smart footman, bearing a note 
 in his hand, rifig at the bell, than springing back from the 
 station she constantly occupied at the window, she exclaimed, 
 " Here it comes, mamma I — such a footman ! — all over silver lace ! 
 I'U bet a dollar it is to ask us to come and drink tea with 
 them." 
 
 " Be quiet, Martha ! Don't scream so loud," said Mr. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 " Oh ! how my poor heart beats ! " cried his wife, forcibly 
 compressing that part of her person wherein it was lodged. 
 " Dearest — " Agnes! she- would have added, but a feeUng of 
 doubt and caution checked her, and compressing her Ups, and 
 
 G 2 
 
100 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 assuming an air of dignified composure, she suddenly resolved 
 to express no further affection for Mrs. General Hubert till it 
 was ascertained how she was likely to be welcomed in return. 
 
 The lively Martha gave a prodigious jump the instant the 
 drawing-room door opened, and clutched the important note 
 from the maid-servant's hand. 
 
 "Now, who'll know the news first, I wonder?" she cried, 
 triumphantly holding her prize above her head. 
 
 "How dare you behave so, Martha!" said Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, hastily rising, and approaching her daughter in a man- 
 ner that made it evident there would be a battle for the note, if 
 the young lady yielded it not unresistingly. But the matter 
 was immediately decided by the authoritative voice of Mr. 
 O'Donagough himself, who, with more anxiety than he intended 
 should appear, sat picking his teeth, and pretending to read a 
 newspaper. 
 
 "No nonsense, if you please, Miss Patty! Give your 
 mother the note inst.vntlt." And instantly the note trembled 
 beneath the agitated fingers of Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 " — Best congratulation! — anxious to see young cousin! — 
 good friends! — General Hubert! — dinner on Thursday! — Oh! 
 my dear Agnes !' — my darhng, darling niece ! " she exclaimed, 
 falling back in her chair in very violent emotion. " How I 
 dote upon her ! Was there ever anything so sweet, O'Dona- 
 gough ■? " 
 
 Tliis demand was addressed to her husband, in consequence 
 of his having caught the note as it fell from her hands as she 
 clasped them in ecstasy after the hasty perusal of it. " What 
 a fool I have been," she continued, with something between a 
 sob and a laugh, " to let all your nonsensical doubts bother me 
 as they have done ! Nobody, of course, but myself can possibly 
 know what Agnes and I have been to each other ! Let me 
 have the note again Donny ! — dear darling creature ! How 
 touching — how sweet her language is ! I am sure you will dote 
 upon her, O'Donagough ; and remember, my dear, that all she 
 is, she owes to me. I formed her mind and manners ; and I 
 think when you know her better, you vdTl confess that she does 
 me no discredit." 
 
 " Dear me, papa," cried the young lady, "how you do 
 spell it and spell it ! Isn't it my turn now, mamma ? She's my 
 cousin, papa, more than she is yours, you know." 
 
 " The lady is my niece, Patty, and not my cousin," repHed 
 her fa ther, passing his hand across the lower port of his face to 
 conce al a smile, arising probably from a greater variety of 
 incon gruous and amusing recollections than either of his com- 
 panio ns could understand. " The note," he added, " is a very 
 atjreeable note as far as it goes — ^and I presume you have 
 
MISS PATTY AFFRONTED. 101 
 
 no engagement, Mrs. O'Donagough, that will prevent our 
 having the pleasure of dining with General Hubert on Thursday 
 next ? " ■^ 
 
 " I rather think not,'' she answered, in the same tone of 
 comic gravity. " Nor do I intend to be from home at two 
 o'clock to-morrow ? " 
 
 "Mayn't I see the note, mamma?" cried Patty, almost 
 ■whimpering. "I do think it is the hardest thing that ever 
 ■was, you two keeping it all to yourselves, and making your 
 jokes about it, and I standiag by as if I was a baby aU the 
 time." 
 
 " Give her the note, dear Donny," said Mrs. O'Donagough ; 
 " I don't wonder that she is longing for it. There, miss ! read 
 that, and rejoice — ^though you can't know yet one-half a quarter 
 of the difference it may make to you." 
 
 jMiss O'Donagough received the precious paper from her 
 fether, and depositing herself with a good deal of vehemence in 
 the corner of a sofa (for her temper had been chafed by the 
 delay) began to study it. Though not testifying equal ecstasy 
 ■to her mother, she perused the first few lines with a well-satisfied 
 air ; and when she came to the phrase, " I feel quite anxious to 
 see my young cousin," she looked up ■with a smile, and gave a 
 sidelong nod with her head that seemed to say, " I count for 
 something in the business, at any rate." But when again 
 throwing her eyes upon the note, she read the words, "I hope 
 they ■will be good friends and playfellows," her colour arose to 
 crimson, and mounted to her very eyes. For a moment she 
 swelled in silence, and then, recovering breath, exclaimed — 
 
 " Your cousin, or niece, or whatever she is, may be as 
 great and as grand as she will — ^but she is a born fool, and I 
 know I shall hate her." 
 
 " Hoity, toity ! Miss Patty. Pray what is the matter 
 now ? " inquired her mother, with very sincere astonishment. 
 
 " Matter, indeed ! I wonder, ma'am, that you can bear to 
 have me treated in such a way. What does she mean by saying 
 that her girl and me may be playfellows ? A precious girl she 
 must be, too, if, she is as old as me, for her mother to talk in 
 that way, as if she was an idiot, or a baby." 
 
 "It is no good for you to fluster yoiurself in that way, 
 Patty, about nothing at all," replied Mrs. O'Donagough. "There 
 are very few English girls, you must remember, as tall and 
 womanly as you, at fourteen. And another thing is, I can tell 
 you, that it is not every mother that chooses to bring her 
 daughter forward as I do. Most ladies, iiideed, keep their girls 
 back as much as possible." 
 
 " What, the old ladies are jealous of 'em, I suppose," repHed 
 Patty, vfith an expressive toss of the head. "Nasty, un- 
 
102 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 natural, old beasts ! I tell you, I know I shall hate this good- 
 for-nothing old woman, who tries to make believe that her 
 daughter is a baby, to make herself seem young. It's down- 
 right horrid, isn't it, papa? " 
 
 "I teU you what, Patty," replied her father, laughing ; " if 
 aU girls were like you, the mothers would find it pretty hard 
 work to keep 'em back, I fancy. However, you had better not 
 put yotirself in a passion about nothing. Perhaps your grandee 
 cousin is not so old as you are — and her mother may have 
 forgot all about your age, I dare say." 
 
 "Elizabeth Hubert is exactly five months younger than 
 Patty," observed Mrs. O'Donagough ; " but it is like enough 
 she may be a peaking little girl. Agnes was but a poor thread 
 of a tlung when she married." 
 
 " I don't care the split of a straw what she is," returned 
 her daughter. " Old or young, little or big, it's all one to me — 
 only I wouldn't advise 'em to set me to be her playfellow, as she 
 calls it — ru teach her queer plays, if she does, I can tell her." 
 
 This little puff of disagreeable excitement blown awiay — a 
 process greatly facilitated by Mrs. O'Donagough's judiciously 
 alluding to the dresses it would be necessary to prepare for 
 Thursday — nothing could be more agreeable than the strain of 
 prophecy into which the conversation fell. AU the sanguine 
 hopes and expectations of the parents respecting the numerous 
 advantages they contemplated from an intercourse so auspi- 
 ciously begun were freely expressed before their child, who fully 
 proved, by several intelligent remarks, that she was as com- 
 petent to understand the subject as either of them. One 
 observation alone was muttered with conjugal mystery by 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, into the ear of her husband ; and it 
 ran thus : — 
 
 " Do you feel any misgivings, Donny, about the sharp eyes 
 of Agnes ? " To which he most satisfactorily replied by snap- 
 l)ing his fingers with such vivacity, as to produce a sound clear 
 as a Castanet ; while at the same time he returned the mutter, 
 by pronouncing the single word, " Stuff ! " 
 
 Though the toilet of the following morning did not, as Mrs. 
 O'Donagough observed, signify a cent in comparison of that to 
 be worn at the dinner-party, stO it was not altogether 
 neglected. At about twenty minutes before two, they aU three 
 met in the drawing-room, with eyes that seemed to challenge 
 the examination and judgment of each other. 
 
 The first expression of applause was elicited by the smooth 
 precision of Mr. O'Donagough's new wig; the full value of 
 which his wife seemed to feel at that moment for the first time. 
 " It's quite perfect, Donny," said she, " I ns\er saw anything 
 equal to it in aU my life. Why, your own mother — ^I mean 
 
EECIPROCAL COMPLIMENTS. 103 
 
 that you look very nice and respectable indeed, and I like and 
 approve it very much, Mr. O'Donagough ; " — which name, with 
 the emphasis she then gave it, as fully explained to her husband 
 all that was passing in her mind, as if she had discoursed upon 
 it for an hour. 
 
 He gave her a nod to show that she was understood, and 
 then a second nod to himself, as he looked in the glass and felt 
 conscious how perfectly well he deserved her approbation both 
 expressed and imphed. 
 
 The appearance of Patty was the next object of attention ; 
 and on this subject Mr. O'Donagough was eloquent, cordially 
 returning the admiration he had received. 
 
 " I hope you are contented with the looks of your girl, Mrs. 
 O'D. ? " said he. " There is no denying, ladies, that you know 
 how to spend your money. What is this beautiful-looking stuff 
 that her gown is made off? — Is it satin ?" 
 
 " No, my dear," rephed his wife ; " it certainly is not satin. 
 Twenty pounds between us, though a very pretty present, 
 would not give us morning gowns made of satin. But it is a 
 very beautiful manufacture, Donny, which I hke exceedingly, 
 it takes the colour so bright. It is nothing in the world but 
 cotton, with just a few threads of sSk, you see, run up and 
 down, to catch the eye. But if it was the richest satin ever 
 made, the colour could not be more beautifully briUiant. 
 Darhng ! — She looks like a full-blown jonquil, doesn't slie, my 
 dear?" 
 
 " She looks like an uncommon fine girl," replied Mr. 
 O'Donagough. " Here eyes are like stars — I never saw them 
 look so bright before — and her fine long dark curls are as 
 handsome as your own used to be, my dear, when I first met 
 you at . The first time I saw you, I mean." 
 
 " You are quite right, my love, excepting that her hair curb 
 naturally, it is exactly like mine — and I must say she does look 
 very handsome to-day." 
 
 " Egad ! " resumed the father, " I don't know what you 
 have done to her ; her complexion looks so beautiful — to be 
 sure you have not — " and here he imitated, with his hand 
 applied to his face, the dehcate action employed to rouge a 
 a lady's cheek. " You must not do that, my dear. It is all 
 very well, and very becoming at about twice her age — but she 
 don't want it yet." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough said nothing in reply, but employed her- 
 self in settling the collar of her own embroidery that finished 
 the dress of her daughter — while Patty turned aside her head 
 and laughed. 
 
 " But you say nothing about me, my dear," said the mother, 
 after having completed the pinchings and smoothings of Patty's 
 
104 
 
 THE WIDOW MAERIED. 
 
 dress ; " tell me how you like my cap, and my gown, and my 
 fxhu, and my cuffs, and my bag — in short, tell me, honestly, 
 Donny, what you think of me, all over ? " 
 
 " Lor, mamma ! what an odd question ! " cried her lively 
 daughter, laughing, and turning round to assist in the scru- 
 tiny. " rU defy him to say that you ain't very nicely dressed 
 — ^though perhaps, as to all over, he may say that you look 
 monstrous big." 
 
 " I'll tell you what. Miss Patty, you will be half as big again 
 before you are as old as me, take my word for it," replied Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, a Httle chafed at the remark. " However," she 
 added, with more complacency, " I'am not so big as the duchess 
 that we met this morning on the Pier — and I see so many large 
 women here, all' in their own carriages, that I am perfectly con- 
 tented to be fat — ^I am quite sure it is the fashion." 
 
 . " I am quite sure of it too, my dear," repHed her husband. 
 " Besided," he gallantly added, " when ladies are of as fine a 
 height, and as nobly buUt as you are, they can carry off a great 
 deal of fat without being at all the worse for it." 
 
 At this moment the bell of the house-door was heard to ring. 
 Mrs. O'Donagough put her hand to her heart. " Oh ! good 
 gracious I Here they are ! — Come and stand by me, Patty, 
 that I may present you to her directly. I hope she has not got 
 her husband with her, Donny ! I dread the sight of that man." 
 
 " Hold your tongue 1 Don't be such a fool ! They are on 
 the stairs." 
 
 He was right. They were on the stairs, they were at the 
 door — and the next moment they were in the room. Neither 
 Mr. nor Mrs. O'Donagough would have known Agnes had they 
 met her by chance. Her appearance indeed was most strikingly 
 changed ; yet though in a different style, she was perhaps more 
 lovely than they had ever before seen her. She had gained at 
 least an inch iu height after her marriage, and the slight girl 
 was now fiUed out, and rounded into the perfect symmetry of 
 womanhood. " What a delicate creature ! " was the exclama- 
 tion she had often drawn forth as Agnes WiUoughby — and 
 " What an elegant creature ! " was the phrase which invariably 
 followed her now. The exquisite features, too, though still the 
 same in outline, were changed, and even improved as to their 
 general contour. And the expressive eyes, which formerly 
 seemed to covet the shelter of their own fringed Uds, and to 
 speak, as it were, but in whispers of the treasure of intellect 
 within, now, appearing to gather courage from looking on the 
 husband who was rarely long together absent from her, showed 
 in every glance a sort of ingenuous confidence of mind, by wliich 
 a physiognomist might read the purity, simplicity, and strength 
 of her character. 
 
THE FIRST INTERVIEW. 105 
 
 In her hand she led a sKght young thing, as thin as a grey- 
 honnd, who, though tall for thirteen and a half, nevertheless 
 looted perhaps younger than she was. Her silken brown hair 
 hung low, in. clusters of thick curls round her neck ; and her 
 peculiarly simple white dress, with its plain pelerine, and the 
 seaworthy Leghorn bonnet tied closely with a ribbon of its own 
 colour, under her chin, gave her decidedly the air of a child. ' 
 Behind them followed General Hubert, who showed that a fine 
 person, a noble expression of countenance, a mihtary carriage, 
 and graceful address, may altogether constitute a very hand- 
 some man, even though the lofty forehead be bald, and the thin 
 curls that are left, sprinkled with silver. 
 
 Notwithstanding the entire absence of every species of 
 affectation or pretension which so remarkably distinguished 
 the manners of Mrs. Hubert, there was something in her 
 general air and appearance which effectually checked all ap- 
 proaches to famiharity in those who were not privileged to 
 use it — and, to say the truth, it would have been diflB.cult to 
 find any gentleman and lady whose appearance would have 
 placed Mr. Allen O'Donagough less at his ease than those who 
 now entered his apartment. He bowed low, as he stood behind 
 his wife, but with a movement that caused him to retreat, rather 
 than advance. Patty, however, fearlessly opened her large 
 eyes upon the strangers, and having no European scale of 
 classification in her head, felt little daunted by encountering 
 an aspect and demeanour altogether new to her ; so entirely, 
 indeed, did she " possess her soul," as they walked up the room, 
 as mentally to ejaculate, " Well, if that lanky thing is my fine 
 cousin, I shan't mind her a bit. She won't put my nose out, any 
 how. What a bonnet ! — my ! " 
 
 But it was not to speculations such as occupied the minds of 
 either her husband or her child that Mrs. O'Donagough gave 
 way. It was, as she would have expressed it, the heart that 
 spoke, and not the judgment, vfhen she rushed forward, and 
 opening her expansive arms, inclosed witlnn them the graceful, 
 yet embarrassed Mrs. Hubert. So long indeed did she hold her 
 there, that the bystanders felt embarrassed too, not well knowing 
 what to do with their eyes, or how to perform their own parts 
 in a scene of such deep interest. 
 
 At length, however, the elder lady released the younger one 
 from her strict embrace, and then retiring a step, stood gazing 
 at her with clasped hands, and head advanced, as nearly as 
 possible like a devotee offering adoration before a fevourite 
 shrine. 
 
 "Is it possible!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough, "do I 
 indeed behold my sister's child ? " A very well-looking pocket- 
 handkerchief, with its laced comer protruding, as if instinct 
 
106 
 
 THE WIDOW MAEKIED. 
 
 with sympathy, from her bag, was here drawn forth, and did 
 its duty well. " Oh ! my dearest Agnes, I can hardly beheve 
 my eyes ! So lovely still, and yet so greatly altered I Oh ! how 
 my heart has longed for this dear moment I But I must not be 
 thus selfish, thus absorbed ! Mr. O'Donagough, let me present 
 you to my dear niece. General Hubert, forgive me, if at first I 
 could see nothing but your charming wife ! I hope I see you 
 well ; permit me to present my husband to you — Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, General Hubert — General Hubert, Mr. O'Donagough — 
 and this is your child, Agnes ! — Dear creature ! — How excessively 
 like the general ! " And then, whether tempted by the 
 resemblance, or by the fond feelings of a great-aunt, she very 
 nearly caught the young lady from the ground, and pressed her 
 so closely to her bosom, as to produce an involuntary " Oh ! " 
 from the lips of the nearly "spoilt child." This over, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough next turned to her own daughter, though the last, 
 not the least important of her evolutions, and taking her red 
 young hand, placed it in the delicately-gloved palm of Mrs. 
 Hubert. That lady, as in duty bound, kissed her cousin — ^but 
 her long ringlets, and her fine colour, her large bright eyes, and 
 her magnificent gown, altogether brought Aunt Betsy,' and all 
 her pecuUar notions, to her mind so forcibly, that she almost 
 trembled as she remembered that this most dear relation was 
 expected to pay them a visit at Brighton, almost immediately. 
 
 " But mercy on me ! how I let you stand ! " cried Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, perfectly satisfied that the earnest look given 
 both by the general and his lady to her daughter, proceeded 
 from admiring astonishment. " Let us sit down, dearest Agnes ; " 
 and marshalling her and her daughter, who still held tightly by 
 her hand, to the sofa, placed herself on a chair before it; while 
 the general, bowed into an arm-chair beside it by Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, found himself under the necessity of making conversation 
 that might suit the habits and prejudices of his host, concerning 
 whose strict conformity to the methodist persuasion, he felt not 
 the least doubt. 
 
 " You have been long absent from this country, sir? " said 
 the general. 
 
 A slight twitching might have been perceptible about the 
 mouth of Mr. Allen O'Donagough, as he listened to this ques- 
 tion, but he instantly recovered himself and replied, " It has 
 indeed been a long absence. General Hubert." 
 
 Without either snuffling, lisping, or in any other obvious and 
 ordinary manner altering his voice, there was something in Mr. 
 Allen O'Donagough's manner of saying these few words, that 
 made his wife, notwithstanding her earnest attention to what 
 her darUng Agnes was saying, look up at him with surprise. 
 But she was a quick-witted, intelligent woman, and half a 
 
MATERNAL COMPARISONS. 107 
 
 moment's consideration enabled her to recollect why it was he 
 spoke now as she had never heard him speak before. It was less 
 than half a smile that passed over her face, as cause and effect 
 thus became perceptible to her, but this half-snule spoke a whole 
 world of conjugal admiration. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough now obtained sufficient mastery over the 
 first burst of her emotions, to look at the daughter of Agnes with 
 some attention. From her youth upwards she had studied 
 beauty, both male and female, too sedulously, not to perceive 
 \inder the close straw bonnet, a promise at least of good regular 
 features, and something more than a promise of remarkably fine 
 eyes. Nevertheless, on the whole, the examination awakened 
 no maternal jealousy. She could not for a moment entertain a 
 doubt as to which was the handsomest, her daughter, or her 
 great-niece. There sat her charming Patty, all glow, all bright- 
 ness, in the very perfection of that undeniable " beaute de diable " 
 which" rarely, indeed, fails to illuminate the features of a 
 womanly girl of fourteen ; whUe beside her sat Elizabeth Hubert, 
 pale, and by no means particularly fair, and with a countenance 
 unawakened to aU the thousand little conscious agaceries, which 
 are sure to play and sparkle about such eyes and hps as those of 
 Martha O'Donagough. Moreover, she looked such a mere 
 child, that any comparison between them seemed preposterous. 
 
 " What a poor little weasel of a girl ! " thought the well- 
 pleased Mrs. O'Donagough, as she looked at her ; " and her 
 mother reckoned such a prodigious beauty too ! Well to be 
 sure, it is impossible not to feel something like triumph at the 
 difference." Such were her thoughts, but all she uttered of 
 them was, "Is this dear child ycmi eldest girl, my dearest 
 Agnes ? " 
 
 " Yes,'' replied Mrs. Hubert, " she is my eldest girl-^but 
 we have two boys older." 
 
 " Oh! yes — I remember. And this dear creature, then, is 
 your Elizabeth, for whom you told me General Hubert's aunt, 
 Lady EHzabeth Norris, and your own great-aunt, Mrs. Eliza- 
 beth Compton, stood godmothers." 
 
 " Yes : this is Elizabeth." 
 
 '( Is she in good health, my dearest Agnes? " 
 
 " Perfectly so." 
 
 " She is so very pale and thin ! isn't she ? 
 
 " Nothing can be thinner, certainly — but we do not reckon 
 her particularly pale. None of our children are fresh-coloured 
 —but they have all excellent health." 
 
 " Then, my dear love, you must be contented with that — 
 which after all is the first of blessings, and of infinitely more 
 real importance, than all the beauty in the world. But, to be 
 sure, she is the youngest-looking creature of her age that I ever 
 
103 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 saw. Who would believe, Agnes, that there was not more than 
 five months difference in age between your girl and mine." 
 
 "No one, certainly," replied Mrs. Hubert, with a smile. 
 
 " Is it possible ! " said General Hubert, who found it rather 
 difficult to keep up a conversation with his sanctified-looking 
 host ; " is it possible, that Miss O'Donagough is not more than 
 five months older than Ehzabeth ? " 
 
 " That is all, general, I assure you," replied Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough. " But the air of Sydney, you know, is counted the 
 finest in the world, and I think that is likely to have a great 
 deal to do with the improvement of children. But your dear 
 girl is not very short neither — only she looks so little and 
 childish-like compared to Patty. However, that is a fault that 
 will mend every day — won't it, dear ? " 
 
 Elizabeth, on being thus addressed, smiled, though without 
 speaking, and the beauty of that sweet smile perfectly startled 
 lie critical Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 "Dear me!" she exclaimed, with very blunt sincerity, "how 
 pretty she is when she smiles ! Oh, dear ! that is so hke poor 
 Sophy!" 
 
 " Is she indeed like my mother, aunt ?" said Mrs. Hubert, 
 with some emotion. 
 
 " The smile is exactly like her," replied Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 " And your mother was very shght, too ; but nothing like so 
 little as Ehzabeth, at her age." 
 
 " We never reckoned Elizabeth so very little,'' said the 
 general, laughing ; " but rather the contrary. Do let the yoimg 
 ladies stand up together — ^I know that is a very regular and 
 orthodox ceremony, which always ought to be performed when 
 cousins meet for the first time ; and, moreover, I doubt if the 
 English lass be not the taller of the two." 
 
 " Stand up, Martha ! " said Mr. AUen O'Donagough, with 
 much solemnity. 
 
 The young lady obeyed ; but there was a little toss of the 
 head, and a little curl of the Hp, that spoke, involuntarily 
 perhaps, the scorn which the idea of any sort of measurement 
 between herself and her cousin created. 
 
 " Come, Elizabeth," cried the general. 
 
 Elizabeth stood up, and yielded herself smiling and blushing 
 to the hands of her father, who having himself untied her 
 bonnet and laid it aside, placed her back to back with her 
 cousin. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough looked at her again, as she thus stood 
 with her head uncovered, and something very nearly approaching 
 to a frown, contracted her brow. She said not a word more 
 about her departed sister, or the beauty of her smiles ; but after 
 a disagreeable sort of struggle with her own judgment, she 
 
THE YOUNG LADIES MEASURE HEIGHT. 109 
 
 in-vrai'dly ejaculated, " If that girl was my daughter, I should- 
 make sometliiug of her." 
 
 The military eye of General Hubert had not deceived him. 
 There was but little difference in the height of the young ladies, 
 but that little was decidedly in favour of Miss Hubert. 
 
 " You see I am right, ladies," said he ; "I have been used 
 to measuring recruits by my eye." 
 
 " Am I shortest, mamma? " said Patty, in a tone that ex- 
 pressed both vexation and increduhty. 
 
 " ^yhj, yes, you are, my dear," replied her mother ; "I am 
 sure I don't know how it can be — ^you look so very much bigger 
 and older." 
 
 " Oh ! what a maypole I must be ! " said the still blushing 
 Elizabeth, replacing her bonnet, and thereby eohpsing one of 
 C'Ttainly the least ordinary faces that ever was looked upon. 
 The rounded contour of the oval, indeed, that might be hoped 
 for hereafter, was not yet there ; and, excepting when excited, 
 the dehcate cheek was pale. But the forehead, eyes, nose, and 
 beyond all else, the finely-cut fuU lips, with that rare Grecian 
 wavy hne, which gives a power of expression possessed by few, 
 were all pre-eminently handsome ; and had it not been for the 
 conviction that her niece Agnes never did, nor never would 
 know how to make the most of beauty, the last state of Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's mind, respecting the parallel inevitably drawn 
 between their two daughters, would have been considerably 
 worse than the first. As it was, however, when Elizabeth again 
 sat down with her close bonnet, and her quiet look of perfect 
 childishness, — while Martha, after a momentary arrangement 
 of her carls before the glass, turned round upon her with a 
 throat as white as ivory, cheeks like a cabbage-rose, and 
 eyes that darted hquid beams of youthful sauciness, with 
 aU the airs and graces of conscious beauty, — it was utterly 
 impossible she should feel otherwise than weU contented with 
 her. 
 
 The visit lasted about twenty minutes longer, which, to say 
 the truth, seemed quite long enough to aU parties ; yet, when 
 Mrs. Huijert rose to take leave, her fond aunt was ahnost 
 clamorous that she phould stay a httle longer. 
 
 " Oh, dearest Agnes ! must I lose you ah-eady ! Think what 
 a time it is since last we met ! It is such a treat to see you :" 
 et cetera, et cetera. 
 
 " We shall have the pleasure of seeing you to-morrow, aunt," 
 replied Agnes, kindly, " and of course my cousin wiU come with 
 you ; unless, indeed, she would like to come earlier," she added, 
 reooUeoting herself, " and share Ehzabeth's two o'clock dinner ? 
 Perhaps this would be the best way, as it would enable them to 
 take a walk by the sea togather, afterwards. 
 
110 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 The operations of thouglit are proverbially rapid -with us all ; 
 but Mrs. O'Donagough was a particularly quick person, and 
 even before her niece had ceased to speak, the pros and cons for 
 this nursery sort of invitation to Martha had passed through her 
 mind. But, notwithstanding all this quickness, it was really 
 not a very easy matter to decide. She was perfectly aware that 
 it would make her daughter, what the young lady herself called 
 " as mad as iire ;" but, on the other hand, it would probably 
 lead to much greater intimacy. Against it was the obvious 
 fact, that the beautiful dress projected, and already prepared 
 for the occasion, could not possibly be worn ; but then, all the 
 people in Brighton would have an opportunity of seeing the 
 young people together on the beach, exactly as if they were one 
 family. 
 
 In this dilemma, Mrs. O'Donagough wisely took the course 
 which could most easily admit of retreat ; and with a coun- 
 tenance beaming with affection and pleasure replied, " There is 
 nothing in the world she would hke so well, my dear Agnes ! 
 At what time shall she be with you ? " 
 
 " A little before two, if you please." And then the iinal 
 adieus were exchanged, and the visitors departed. 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 The O'Donagough family remained perfectly silent till the door 
 of the house was distinctly heard to close after their departing 
 guests ; and even then, Mr. O'Donagough, who had stepped to 
 the window, and so placed his eyes as to obtain a sidelong glance 
 after them, continued to hold his finger to his nose, in token 
 that no word was to be spoken till they had passed beyond the 
 possibility of hearing it. 
 
 Perhaps this extreme caution arose from a sort of, prop' tic 
 consciousness on the part of Mr. O'Donagough, that when his 
 daughter did speak, it was likely to be with considerable energy. 
 Nor, if this were the case, did he at all miscalculate. No sooner 
 did his finger quit his nose, and his eyes direct themselves 
 into the room, instead of out of it, than his wife and daughter 
 both 
 
 Cried " Havock ! " and let slip the dogs of war 1 
 
 In plain prose, they both burst forth into the most vehement 
 and unsparing abuse of Miss Hubert's dress, manner, and 
 general appearance. 
 
 " Isn't it a most extraordinary and unaccountable thing," 
 exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough, "that such a really elegant- 
 
PATTY DEFIES EVERYBODY. Ill 
 
 looking -woman as my niece Agnes, should choose to let her 
 daughter go such a fright? Did any one ever see such an 
 object ? It is a perfect mystery to me ; and that is the truth." 
 
 " And pray how is she to help it ? " replied Patty. " Her 
 mother did not make her, I suppose ? " 
 
 " K she did not make her, she made her bonnet," rejoined 
 her mother, " or at any rate she made her put it on ; and I am 
 sure that if it had been an old extinguisher it could not have 
 answered better for turning her into an object and a fright." 
 
 " Lor ! mamma ! what does the bonnet signify ? It only looks 
 as if they hadn't a penny in the world. But you won't pretend 
 to fell me that if that lanky monster of a girl was to have as 
 beautiful a bonnet as my pink one on, it would make her look 
 like anything else but what she is ? and that's as ugly as sin, 
 and you know it." 
 
 " Well, Patty," said her father, " and if she is, it's all the 
 better for you, my dear ; so I don't see why you should look so 
 put out about it. If what your mother says is to come true, 
 and you are to be taken to court and everywhere along with 
 her, it is a great deal better that you should outdo her, than 
 that she should outdo you." 
 
 These judicious remarks considerably softened the aspect of 
 Miss O'Donagough. She no longer looked like a hedgehog in 
 attitude of declared hostOity to aU comers, nay she almost 
 smiled as she replied, 
 
 " Lor a mercy, papa ! you don't think I'm going to cry 
 because my cousin isn't a beauty, do you ? " 
 
 " I am sure I can't say what may happen about the taldng 
 Patty to court, Mr. O'Donagough," observed Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, with rather an anxious look. " That, you know, must 
 depend altogether on the degree of intimacy that grows between 
 us, and of course it will depend in a very great measure upon 
 Patty herself." 
 
 " Oh, my gracious ! " cried the young lady, " I am sure I 
 shan't do anything to get intimate with that scaramouch of a 
 girl, so you need not reckon upon it, — mind that. I'd see the 
 queen, and the king too, if there was one, and all the princes 
 and princesses upon the face of the earth, at the bottom of the 
 Ked Sea before I'd demean myself to hck the feet of such a 
 nasty, vulgar, ugly beast of a girl as that." 
 
 " Now, Patty, I think you go rather too far," said her 
 father ; " not that I want you to hck anybody's feet — that's 
 not the best way to get on in the world. But though your 
 cousin is not to be compared with you, as a fine handsome 
 bouncing girl of her age, I don't think she is too ugly to speak 
 to, either. Do you know, I should not wonder if some people 
 were to think her quite pretty." 
 
112 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 The quills rose again in the eyes, and on the lips, of the sus- 
 ceptible Patty. " How can you stand there talking such non- 
 sense, papa," said she, sharply, " as if I cared whether she was 
 pretty or ugly ? But when mamma talks of our getting intimate 
 with her, or of our ever being such fiiends as Betty Sheepshanks 
 and I was, it is altogether provoking, and I would advise you 
 both to give up the notion at once ; for it never vrill, and it 
 never shall be. Nasty, stifif, great baby ! " 
 
 " I tell you what, Patty," said Mrs. O'Donagough stoutly, 
 though secretly trembUng at the reception her unpalatable in- 
 vitation to the nursery dinner was hkely to receive, " I tell you 
 what, miss, if you choose to set up your back at my relations in 
 this way, I'll never try to make one of them take notice of you, 
 and I should liie to see where you would be then, and what 
 good aU the nice clothes I have been getting together would 
 prove, without a single soul to look at them? Don't keep 
 knitting your brows that way, Patty. You don't look much 
 handsomer than your cousin now, I can tell you. I only wish 
 you could see yourself." 
 
 " Well, ma'am, I can see myself easy enough, if that's aU," 
 rephed Miss Patty, turning to the looking-glass, arranging- her 
 hair, and then flashing round again upon her admiring mother, 
 " I am not at all ashamed to look at my own face." 
 
 " It would be rather odd if you were, Patty ; I won't deny 
 that," said Mrs. O'Donagough, smiling with a look of very 
 undisguised admiration. " But that's neither here nor there, 
 my dear, we won't talk of your beauty before your fece, because 
 that's very bad manners ; and into the bargain it is a great deal 
 more to the purpose to determine what it wiU be the best to 
 do about the time of your going to-morrow, my dear. My 
 niece Agnes, who, I must say, seems inchned to do everything 
 in her power to make you and Ehzabeth as intimate as possible, 
 has desired, as the greatest favour in the world, that you would 
 spend the whole day "o ith her ; that is to say, go quite early, 
 Patty, and not ceremoniously like your papa and me, you 
 know, at six o'clock, but between one and two, that you may 
 take a long chatty ramble with her by the sea-side, after an 
 early dinner. I hope you will like that, my dear ? I am sure 
 it is paying you a monstrous oompUment." 
 
 " Like it ! " replied Patty, raising her voice to a very shrill 
 tone, " I hke playing at being a baby all day long, vfith that 
 stupid oaf of a girl ! I can't and I won't, and that's flat." 
 
 "Nonsense, Pfitty," said Mr. O'Donagough, " iAai's not 
 the way to get on, I promise you. I won't have you quarrel 
 with your bread and butter in that style. Go ? To be sure 
 you wlU, and be thankful too, if you know what's what." 
 
 " And pray what am I to do about my beautiful striped 
 
PATTY SACRIFICES PREJUDICE TO INTEREST. 113 
 
 gauze dress, and my blue satin shoes? Am I to walk out -vvith 
 Miss Gawky in that fashion ? " 
 
 " No, my dear, that is quite impossible. No, you cannot 
 go fuU dressed, as we intended, that is entirely out of the 
 question, for this time," said her mother ; " you must just 
 wear your new mousseline de laine, Patty. It is an elegant 
 thing, and yet quite good style for a morning. And your pink 
 bonnet, you know, and the scarf; so that you will be per- 
 fectly first-rate in appearance, and enjoy, besides, the enormous 
 advantage of letting eyerybody in Brighton see that you are 
 one of the Hubert family." 
 
 " I wish, with all my soul," cried Patty, " that every one 
 of the Hubert family had been packed off for Botany Bay the 
 day we left it ! I see as plain as dayhght that you and papa 
 both mean to lead me the hfe of a dog about 'em. You will 
 make me run away, if you do, I'U tell you that, for I know I 
 can't bear it." 
 
 " Don't put yourself in such a fuss, Patty, for heaven's 
 sake ! " said her mother, but more coaxingly than scoldingly ; 
 for she still stood in very considerable dread of a final and posi- 
 tive-refusal. "Think, my dear girl, before you say so, of the 
 beautiful fine parties, and the beaux, and the dances you'll be 
 sure to come in for in Berkeley-square, if you do but play your 
 cards well now. Think of ali this, Patty, and do your very 
 best to get thick with Elizabeth Hubert." 
 
 " Patty, your mother's right this time," said Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, "so go at the time fixed, and say no more about it. 
 I'U take you into a box at the playhouse the night after, if 
 you'll be a good girl." 
 
 Miss O'Donagough had a phrase which will explain the 
 effect these words produced upon her, namely — 
 
 " When papa's in earnest he is in earnest." The promised 
 play, too, undoubtedly helped her decision ; and altogether she 
 was induced, after distorting her much-admired beauty by more 
 than one grimace, to reply, " Well, if I must, I must ; but it 
 is as bad as being whipped, I can teU you that." 
 
 The subject was then judiciously permitted to drop, and the 
 far future of next winter in London, with all the joys it might 
 bring, took its place ; effectually arming the mind of Patty 
 for the endurance of whatever present annoyance might arise, 
 which, acting like catholic penances, should lead to such a 
 paradise ! 
 
 Meanwhile, General Hubert, Ms lady and daughter, pur- 
 sued their way homeward. It was, probably, not altogether 
 from lack of a subject that they walked on so silently ; but 
 instead of words, Mrs. Hubert only pressed her husband's arm, 
 to which he replied by somewhat of a more caressing pressure 
 
 H 
 
114 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 in return, and the quietly-smiling pronunciation of the word 
 " Well ? " Neither did their daughter say much, continuing to 
 hold her mother's hand in silence tDl the door-beU of their own 
 mansion had been rung ; and then smiling a httle, and colour- 
 ing a good deal, she said, " Is not my cousin older than I am, 
 mamma ? " 
 
 " She looks a vast deal older, certainly," was the reply. 
 
 "Do you think she will like to play at looking for shells 
 among the shingles, with Emily and me ? " 
 
 " Perhaps, not, my dear. You must endeavour to entertain 
 her by rational conversation," said Mrs. Hubert, entering the 
 house, and not sorry, perhaps, to interrupt the discussion, by 
 desiring her daughter immediately to get ready for our dinner, 
 which was waiting for her. It was tete-a-tete, therefore, that 
 General Hubert and his wife entered the drawing-room, and 
 there was something whimsical enough in the manner in which 
 their eyes encountered after silently seating themselves in two 
 arm-chairs, which faced each other. 
 
 Agnes pursed up her beautiful mouth, and endeavoured to 
 look grave ; but the moment her eyes met those of her husband, 
 they both laughed. This movement of the muscles, however, 
 was quite involuntary on the part of the lady, and speedily 
 mastering it, she said, "Pray don't. General Hubert, pray don't 
 laugh at it ! What can we do ? " 
 
 "I cannot choose but laugh, Agnes," replied her hus- 
 band, " if you look so comically dismayed. And after all, 
 my dear, I cannot say that we have seen anything that 
 ought greatly to surprise us. Your Aunt Barnaby is as little 
 altered as it is possible she could be in the time, I think. Of 
 Mr. O'Donagough I have no remembrance, but he appears to 
 me quite as well-looking and respectable a personage as we could 
 reasonably hope for. Rather evangelical, I suspect ; but under 
 the circumstances I see no reason to object to this. And as for 
 their daughter, I cannot but think that she is as precisely what 
 Mrs. Barnaby's daughter, might be expected to be, as it is 
 possible to imagine. Wherefore, dear wife, look not so despond- 
 ingly, but thank the gods that matters are no worse." 
 
 All this was said Hghtly and gaily, but Mrs. Hubert seemed 
 to have lost aU inclination to laugh. 
 
 " I would not be ungrateful to the gods, Montague," said 
 she, " but I must own I feel the arrival of the O'Donagoughs to 
 be a very great misfortune." 
 
 " No, no, not so," returned her husband ; " not a very great 
 misfortune, Agnes. You must not class it so. Aunt Betsy will 
 be a httle outrageous, perhaps, but we must contrive to soothe 
 her ; and for the rest, be quite sure that a little good manage- 
 ment to prevent our meeting often, and a httle quiet, patient 
 
MRS. HUBERT FEAES CONTAGION. 115 
 
 civility when we do meet, will suffice to prevent any very serious 
 annoyance." 
 
 " But our girl, Hubert ? You take the thing so admirably 
 en pMlosophe, that I will cease to torment myself about you. 
 But is it not grievous that EUzabeth should — " 
 
 "Find a cousin more bright and blooming than herself? 
 We must bear this, Agnes," said the general ; " but this is all. 
 Miss O'Donagough wUl do Elizabeth no harm, you may depend 
 upon it." 
 
 Soothed, if not satisfied, Mrs. Hubert indulged in no more 
 repinings for the present ; and feeling something Hke self- 
 reproach at having experienced so much more vehement a dis- 
 taste for her relations than her noble husband appeared to do, 
 she determined as far as possible to conquer, or at any rate to 
 conceal it. To Elizabeth she said little more on the subject ; 
 but to Miss Wihnot, the daughter of her own early friend and 
 instructress, she ventured to speak with entii-e freedom. The 
 peculiarities of her "Aunt Barnaby" were already perfectly 
 well known to this lady ; and, thsrefore, vfithout scruple of any 
 kind, she ventured to confess to her, that although she wished 
 every possible attention and kindness to be shown to Miss 
 O'Donagough, she did not wish the intercourse between the 
 young ladies to grow into intimacy. 
 
 " Elizabeth is so cliildish. Miss Wihnot," continued Mrs. 
 Hubert, "that though I do not greatly fear her catching the 
 singular maimers of this poor girl, I think she may not be 
 capable of — of disliking them, I believe is the only honest word, 
 as much as I wish her to do." 
 
 " Not having yet seen the young lady," rephed Miss Wilmot, 
 smiling, " I can give no opinion upon this ; but, if Miss 
 O'Donagough be like what Mrs. Compton describes her mother 
 to have been, Ehzabeth wiU not like her too well." 
 
 Very punctually at two o'clock Mr. O'Donagough himself 
 conducted his young daughter to the door of General Hubert, 
 and there took leave of her tUl the evening — his parting words 
 being, " Now, Patty, mind your p's and q's. I know yoxur 
 mother often plagues you with a monstrous deal of preaching 
 about one thing and another, and you know I never scold you 
 for laughing at it. But she's right this time about making the 
 very best of yourself with those stiff disagreeable people — ^mind 
 that, Patty." 
 
 " Don't you trouble yourself about my turning 'em all to 
 good account, if anything 's to be got out of 'em," rephed the 
 young lady with an expressive wink of the left eye; "and if 
 I mind my hits that way, I expect you'll let me hate 'em as 
 much as I please. That is fair, isn't it ? " 
 
 The house-door opened as she finished the sentence, and 
 
 H 2 
 
116 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 her father departed, replying to it only by an acquiescent 
 nod. 
 
 Miss O'Donagough was immediately ushered into the back- 
 parlour, where the table was already spread for dinner, and her 
 two cousins seated on either side of their governess, who was 
 reading to them Miss Edgeworth's tale of the Prussian Vase. 
 All three rose to receive her. The little Emily, as well as Miss 
 Wilmot was properly introduced by Ehzabeth, and the necessary 
 quantity of hand-shaking performed, while Miss Wilmot, laying 
 aside the splendid pink bonnet and scarf of the gaily-dressed ■ 
 visitor, smiled furtively aside, as she remembered Mrs. Hubert's 
 anxiety lest her pupil should be incapable of judging fitly of 
 the peculiar graces she displayed. 
 
 There was, however, in EUzabeth's behaviour to her cousin, 
 no symptom of her having as yet formed any judgment of her 
 at all, for her manner spoke only the most perfect good humour 
 and civility, a little blended with embarrassment. 
 
 " Do you like the sea, coi^in Martha ? " was the first 
 attempt at the "rational conversation" her mother had re- 
 commended. 
 
 " What, sailing upon it?" rejoined Miss Martha. 
 
 " No, I meant walking near it, and looking at it," replied 
 Ehzabeth. " But I should hke you to tell me all about sailing 
 too. You have sailed a great way, have you not ? And I have 
 never been on the sea at all, except between Dover and Calais ; 
 and even that, you know, is not sailing. Did you like your 
 voyage ? " 
 
 " Like it ! yes, to be sure I did. It's monstrous good fun!" 
 
 " I think I should like it too," said Elizabeth. " I never 
 see any large ship passing up and down the channel, without 
 wishing to, be aboard her." 
 
 " I don't know about your liking it," replied Miss Martha. 
 " I think you seem too young to take such pleasure in it as. I 
 did. And besides, I don't beheve — There's no fun I mean on 
 board ship — at least I should think so — unless people are nearly 
 grown up. I don't think children would be taken so much 
 notice of." 
 
 " Do you think so? " said Elizabeth, innocently. "I should 
 fancy children might be very well amused. Don't you think, 
 Emily, that you should hke to run up and down the deck of a 
 great, large ship ? " 
 
 " Yes, I should," said the little one, stoutly ; " and I should 
 not care if anybody noticed me or not." 
 
 "I suppose not, indeed, you Uttle thing!" said Martha, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Did the sea disagree with you at all, Miss O'Donagough ? " 
 inquired Miss Wilmot. 
 
MISS maetha's rational conversation. 117 
 
 " Oh, lor, yes ; I was as sick as a cat for the first week ! " 
 replied the young lady. " You never saw anything like it in 
 your life. No sooner did I swallow anything — ^you understand ?" 
 (with an appropriate grimace.) " But I had a good friend on 
 board who took capital care of me, and always showed me 
 which side of the sliip to walk, and helped me up and down, 
 and all that sort of thing, you know ; and so by degrees it went 
 off, and then I was as jolly as a tinker, and such an appetite I 
 Oh, my ! How I did eat ! And then we got to famous fun with 
 ship-bUliards ; and all the rest of the time, till we got to Sheer- 
 ness, I Uked it better than anything else in the whole world." 
 
 " And after Sheemess, I suppose you felt impatient to get 
 to land? " said Elizabeth. 
 
 " Yes, I did," succinctly replied Miss O'Donagough. 
 
 " I do not wonder at that. I think you must have been so 
 impatient to see England ! " 
 
 " Oh no, not I ! I did not care a straw about England just 
 then. But we lost one of our best friends at Sheemess, and 
 that spoilt everything." 
 
 " Had you many passengers on board ? " 
 
 " I am sure I hardly know anything about 'em. They were 
 all nasty people." 
 
 " All nasty people ! " exclaimed little Emily. 
 
 " Yes, httle one — all nasty people ; " rephed Martha, laugh- 
 ing. " I suppose she thinks 1 mean all dirty people. What a 
 funny little soul ! When you are as old as me, Miss Emmy, 
 you'll know what ladies mean, when they call people nasty. 
 We don't mean dirty clothes, nor dirty faces neither ; but just 
 everybody we don't Kke." 
 
 " If you don't hke me, will you say I am nasty ? " demanded 
 the little girl, looking at her rather reproachfully. 
 
 "To be sure I shall ; but I won't dishke you if you'll give 
 me a kiss, for I think you are very pretty. 
 
 " But if I was not very pretty, should you call me nasty ? " 
 persisted the child. 
 
 " Yes, I dare say I should ; for I hate everybody that is not 
 pretty," rephed Martha ; at the same time making one of her 
 father's peculiar grimaces, in such a manner as to indicate that 
 Miss Wilmot was in her thoughts. Without making any reply 
 respecting the offered salute, the little Emily turned towards 
 the governess, and after leaning against her knee for a minute 
 or two, took an oportunity when she bent her head, of putting 
 her arms round her neck, and giving her a kiss. 
 
 " Well now ! if she isn't kept in good order, I'U wonder," 
 said Martha, chuckling. " She knows what a whipping is, or I'm 
 much mistaken." This was addressed in rather a low confi- , 
 dential voice to Elizabeth ; but before she could reply to it, the 
 door opened, and the dinner entered. 
 
118 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 " That's no bad sight, early as it is for dining. I am as 
 hungry as a horse, Miss Elizabeth. Where am I to sit ? What, 
 here! — next to the old lady? Let me sit at the bottom and 
 carve, shall I ? You shall see if I don't do it fit to be a married 
 ■woman. La ! what a nice dinner ! What a pity it is we have 
 got no beaux ! " 
 
 No opposition being made to Miss O'Donagough's placing 
 herself at the bottom of the table, she sat down, and began 
 vigorously to attack a leg of lamb, intended as the piece de 
 resistance of the entertainment. 
 
 " Will you not take some fish, Miss O'Donagough ? " de- 
 manded Miss Wilmot. 
 
 " Yes, if there is butter and sauce with it," replied Martha,; 
 " but some of you must have mutton, 'cause I've cut this piece 
 off. Here, little one, you shall have it." 
 
 Emily looked into the face of her governess, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " Send it to me, my dear, if you please," said Miss Wilmot ; 
 "but do not cut any more yet. The young ladies both take 
 fish." The dinner, sauce and all, being greatly to Miss O'Dona- 
 gough's satisfaction, her spirits rose as it proceeded, and she 
 went on in a sort of crescendo movement, eating and talkingj 
 tin she had got into the highest possible good humour. 
 
 " Well, after all, I think we shall be monstrous good 
 friends, Elizabeth ? " said she, putting a third glass of custard 
 into her plate ; " and I don't know but what it may be better 
 fun dining in this way, and eating as much as I like, than if I 
 liad come in my gauze frock, and sat up doing grand with the 
 old fogrums in the dining-room. I do hate old people like 
 poison — don't you ? " 
 
 To this appeal, Elizabeth answered nothing; but almost 
 involuntarily gave such a look to her governess, as friends are 
 apt to exchange when something striking occurs, upon which, 
 for the moment, they can make no other conmientary. Martha 
 saw this look, and interpreting it her own way, shook her curls, 
 gave a slight laugh, and said no more, persuaded that her coiisin 
 had intended to caution her against being too open-hearted in 
 the presence of that first and foremost of fogrums, her 
 governess. 
 
 But although this persuasion silenced her for the moment, 
 it rather added to her good humour ; and, on setting out for the 
 promised walk by the sea-side, she took the arm of Miss Hubert 
 with very cousinly familiarity, and drew her forward with a 
 rapid step, in the hope of outwalking the governess and Emily, 
 and thereby insuring " a little fun," and a great deal of confi- 
 dential communication. 
 
 Miss Wilmot, who knew her pupil well, and feared not any 
 

 SZa^:^ 'rn^'i/' /i.<i^MY ^<^^' '■-'■^' /^^^if'- '^■^' ■'-''> ■,-4!^-^,2v^ 
 
MAETHA POSITIVELY SEES A LOKD. 119 
 
 injury to her from the association beyond its present annoyance, 
 made no effort to overtake them; and contented herself by 
 answering as sedately and discreetly as she could, the specu- 
 lations of the little EmUy on their guest, which partook largely 
 of that peculiar vein of observation in wliich children sometimes 
 remark on what appears ridiculous to them, with a freshness and 
 keenness of quizzing that might be sought for in vain in the 
 salUes of the most practised proficients in the art. 
 
 On reaching the steps in the cliff. Miss O'Donagough had 
 the extreme delight of perceiving that two gay-looking youths 
 in regimentals had just descended them, and were walking 
 slowly onward the way they were about to go. 
 
 " Make haste, Elizabeth, ain't we lucky?" she exclaimed, on 
 perceiving them, and setting the example of the speed she re- 
 commended, she placed her hand on the rail and ran down with 
 extraordinary rapidity to the bottom of the flight. Though the 
 light movements of her young companion hardly permitted her 
 being very slow, Martha chid her delay, and ere she had fairly 
 reached the last step, seized on her arm, and by a vigorous pull, 
 obhged her to clear it by a jump. 
 
 " What a slow fool you are, Elizabeth ! '' she exclaimed, 
 again taking her arm, and drawing her rapidly forward ; "let 
 us pass them directly, and I'll bet a guinea that before we have 
 made five steps, they will pass us." 
 
 " Why do you wish them to pass us, Martha? " said her 
 companion with perfect simplicity. 
 
 Miss O'ponagough looked back, thinking from these words 
 that the governess must be within hearing ; but, on the con- 
 trary, perceiving that she had stopped to fasten Emily's shoe, 
 she began laughing in a tone so loud, that the young men both 
 turned round to reconnoitre. 
 
 The moment their eyes fell upon the young ladies, they 
 stepped aside, and permitted them to pass, raising their hats at 
 the same time in salutation. Miss Hubert bowed, and walked 
 on. 
 
 " WeU done you, Ehzabeth ! " said her companion, strongly 
 compressing her arm, and tittering very audibly. "How beauti- 
 ful they look ! don't they ? But they are only ensigns, both of 
 them, I can tell you that. I wish to goodness I knewtheir names." 
 
 " Do not speak so loud, cousin Martha, or they wiU hear 
 you," said Ehzabeth, innocently. " It is Lord William South- 
 ,wood and Mr. Templeton." 
 
 "A lord!" cried the startled Martha, instantly turning 
 round her head to look at them. " You don't say so ? And he 
 bowing to us so poUtely ! Don't you think we had better sit 
 down upon that stone ? They must pass by it, you see, 'cause of 
 the water coming in so. Isn't this capital fun ?" 
 
120 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 Miss Hubert was by no means a stupid girl, but she no more 
 comprehended her cousin's exclamations, than if they had been 
 uttered in Hebrew, and replied very simply, " No, don't sit 
 there, Martha, there is a much better place a little farther on, 
 where Miss Wihnot almost always lets us sit down, and if you 
 did like looking for shells, you would find plenty there, such 
 as they are." 
 
 " Looking for shells ! " exclaimed Martha, bursting into loud 
 laughter. " Oh, my ! what a fool you are ! or is it only put on, 
 EKzabeth ? That's it, I see through it, I'U be hanged if I don't. 
 You are a deep one, with your bowings, and knowing so well 
 what their names are, and all." 
 
 "What do you mean, cousin Martha? How can I help 
 knowing the names of those two gentlemen, if it is of them you 
 are speaking ? " rephed Miss Hubert. " They both dined at 
 our house yesterday." 
 
 " Gracious goodness ! Is that true, Elizabeth ? Dined at 
 your house? — and one of them a lord ! WiU they come there 
 again to-day ? " 
 
 " I do not know,'' replied Elizabeth, laughing in her turn ; 
 " but I am afraid not, — ^they do not come every day." 
 
 " Why didn't you speak to them, you stupid girl, if you 
 know them so well ? " demanded Martha, reproachfully. 
 
 " I don't know them well," replied her cousin ; , " I never see 
 them, except for a very little whUe after dinner in the drawing- 
 room." 
 
 ' ' Have they been there more than once ? " inquired Martha. 
 
 " Yes, several times, I think — at least Lord WiUiam has. 
 I don't remember seeing the other so often." 
 
 " Oh ! how I wish ? — ^I do think it was very — " But both 
 sentences, warmly as they flowed from her heart, were cut short 
 ere completed by the prudent Martha, who at that moment 
 recalled her mother's words concerning the importance of an 
 intimate intercourse with the Hubert family. Never did the 
 admonition of a parent come more forcibly upon the heart of a 
 child. 
 
 " I must keep in with 'em, if I die for it ! " was the mental 
 ■exclamation which followed the remembrance of this maternal 
 warning ; and, perceiving, on once more turning round her 
 head, that the officers had changed the direction of their walk, 
 she again took the arm of her cousin, who had quitted her side 
 for a moment to examine a choice morsel of sea- weed, and began 
 a direct and dehberate attack upon her aifections, by praising 
 her eyes, and the handkerchief that was tied round her neck ; 
 hinting, that she thought her mamma kept her a great deal too 
 back, and that her governess was already afraid of her ; con- 
 cluding with an assurance that she never liked any girl so well 
 
CONCLUSION OF A LONG DAT. 121 
 
 before in all her life, and that she hoped to her heart they 
 should be very very intimate, and stick together hke very near 
 relations, as they really were. 
 
 To all this, Elizabeth answered gently and civilly, but 
 reached home at last with a feeling of self-reproach for being so 
 very tired of her cousin's company. 
 
 Their tea-table awaited their return, and, notwithstanding 
 the sublime speculations for the future, which flUed the heart 
 and head of Miss O'Donagough, the cherries and the cakes 
 spread before her were sufficiently attractive to keep her tran- 
 quilly ia the school-room, till the ladies had left the dinner- 
 parlour. 
 
 " Now we will go up stairs, and see your mamma, shall we ? " 
 said Miss Hubert. 
 
 " Oh, yes! if you will — I'm quite ready when I've done 
 eating this one queen-cake more. And you really don't know 
 if there's any officers or not dining here? " replied her cousin. 
 
 " No, indeed, I do not," was the unsatisfactory reply. 
 
 It is very probable that neither the aunt nor the niece were 
 very sorry to have their tete-a-tete interrupted by the entrance 
 of Miss Wilmot and the young ladies. Mrs. O'Donagough had 
 already obtained all particulars respecting the present residence 
 and manner of life of her " dear brother-in-law," Mr. WiUough- 
 by, and of the number of grandchildren bestowed upon him by 
 his daughter Nora — had expressed the most " heartfelt delight," 
 at hearing that she would be sure to see them all during the 
 ensuing season in London, and was by that time quite ready to 
 scrutinise the countenance of her daughter, in order to ascertain 
 how the long day had answered. 
 
 Great was the contentment which attended this examination 
 of a coxmtenance exceedingly capable of showing whether its 
 owner were pleased or the contrary. It was immediately evi- 
 dent to Mrs. O'Donagough that her daughter was in one of her 
 most amiable moods ; and though there had been no party at 
 dinner, and consequently but little opportunity of displaying 
 the studied elegance of her own appearance, still " the style of 
 everything about her darling Agnes" was such as to make her 
 feel more sensibly than ever the immense importance of being 
 united to her by the tenderest ties of affection. It could not, 
 therefore, fail of being very delightful to her to perceive that 
 Martha, whom, as she had told her husband, " she greatly 
 feared she should find in the dumps," was radiant in smUes and 
 good humour, and apparently on the best possible terms with 
 that "stupid shy -looking thing," her cousin. 
 
 Not only, indeed, had the dinner, the servants, and the 
 plate of her beloved Agnes, excited all the warm affections of 
 Mrs. O'Donagough's heart, but the observations she had made 
 
122 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 on her husband during the repast, tended to convince her very 
 forcibly, that he, too, cautiously as he had hitherto expressed 
 his feelings on the subject, attached great importance to the 
 connection. Never had she before seen him as he appeared to 
 her on this important day. Quiet, reserved, respectful, rather 
 religious in his language, but with amiable humility abstaining 
 from giving too serious a tone to the conversation, his wife 
 gazed and Ustened with equal admiration and astonishment, 
 while he developed a degree of talent, for which she, even in her 
 fondest days, had never given him credit. 
 
 " It shall not be my fault," said she, internally, "if he is 
 not rewarded for all this cleverness. He knows what he is 
 about as well as most men, and he shan't be stopped for want 
 of a helping hand from me." 
 
 Accordingly Mrs. O'Donagough was enchanted, beyond the 
 power of language to express, with her "little great-niece, 
 Emily," declared Elizabeth " by far the loveliest creature she 
 had ever seen," and was obliged to pull out her pocket-hand- 
 kerchief when speaking of their dear grandmother, and the 
 astonishing likeness which they both bore her. 
 
 Mrs. Hubert listened to it all with great sweetness, but suf- 
 fered no great time to elapse between the coffee and the tea, and 
 hinted to Miss Wilmot that she did not wish Emily to be kept 
 up beyond her usual hour. 
 
 Very soon after her departiu^e, Mr. O'Donagough broke oif 
 his mild discission with the general on the importance of en- 
 forcing a pure morality throughout the army, and rising said, 
 
 " I am afraid it is getting very late, my dear ; you know my 
 habits, and must not suffer even the happiness of this blessed 
 re-union to interfere with what we know to be our duty." 
 
 On this Mrs. O'Donagough rose too, with a look of meek- 
 ness that really seemed quite angelic, saying, " Oh ! no — not 
 for the world ! " and, as if moved by the most perfect family 
 sympathy, Martha slapped-to the volume of engravings she was 
 examining at the same moment, so that the leave-taking was 
 sudden and prompt, and in less than two minutes after it began, 
 the Allen O'Donagough family found themselves enjoying the 
 sea-breeze on the broad flag-stones of the Marine Parade. ■ 
 
 " Thank God, that's over ! " cried Mr. Allen O'Donagough, 
 as soon as they had fairly cleared the premises. 
 
 " / shall not be sorry to get home and have a draught of 
 porter, it has been so dreadfully hot all day," observed his lady. 
 " But to be sure, nothing could be kinder or more flattering ! " 
 
 " Oh, lor ! I am as tired as a dog," exclaimed Martha, 
 stretching out her arms, and yawning vehemently ; " but I don't 
 care a straw — I know what I know about the people that visit 
 there, and I'U be hanged if I don't take care to be one of them." 
 
UNI3S!TELLIGIBLE DISCOURSE. 123 
 
 " You are your father's own child, Patty ! " said Mr. 
 O'Donagough, recovering his usual tone ; "we shall make 
 something of 'em between us." 
 
 " Well ! to be sure it is a pleasure to introduce you both to 
 my relations ! and depend upon it, you will never repent being 
 civil to them," said his wife, with rather a mysterious nodding 
 of the head, made visible as they reached their own door, by 
 the light of the lamp that hung over it. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " It is quite bed-time, mamma, is it not ? " said Elizabeth 
 Hubert as the door closed after the O'Donagough family. " I 
 am very, very sleepy ! " 
 
 " Good night, my dear," replied her mother, holding up her 
 face to receive the farewell salute. 
 
 " Good night, papa," said Elizabeth, passing on to her father. 
 But before he accepted the kiss offered to him, he detained her 
 by the hand for a moment, saying, 
 
 " What makes you look so very weary to-night, my dear 
 girl ? Have you walked more than usual to-day ? " 
 
 " No, papa. We have walked very little to-day," replied 
 the young lady. 
 
 " What is the matter then, dearest ? You do not feel un- 
 well, I hope. Do you ? " 
 
 EUzabeth stopped short in the middle of a yawn to laugh. 
 " Oh ! no, papa ! Pray do not send for the doctor ! I feel 
 perfectly .well, only very sleepy." 
 
 "Perhaps you are tired of talking, Elizabeth? You and 
 your young cousin have had time for a great deal of conversa- 
 tion. Did she tell you much about New South Wales ? " 
 demanded her father. 
 
 Elizabeth shook her head as she replied, " No, not a word." 
 
 " What then did you talk about ? " asked the general. 
 
 Elizabeth again laughed, and again shook her head.' 
 
 " Is that shake of the head to be considered as oracular as 
 that of my Lord Burleigh? Does it mean a very great deal," 
 said her father. 
 
 " It means, papa, that I really and truly do not know what 
 she talked about," replied Elizabeth. 
 
 " That is to say, you forget it. I presume, my dear, that 
 when the discourse was going on, you knew of what subject, or 
 subjects, it treated? " 
 
 " No, indeed, papa, I did not," was the quick reply. " My 
 cousin said a great many things altogether, I believe, but I quite 
 
124 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 mean that I do not know what they were all about. I did not 
 always understand her." 
 
 " Did you find her upon the whole an agreeable companion, 
 Ehzabeth?" 
 
 In reply to this direct inquiry, Miss Hubert, after hanging 
 down her head a little, and looking for a minute or two rather 
 embarrassed, replied, 
 
 " No, papa, I did not ; and I do not think that my cousin 
 Martha found me an agreeable companion either. Nor do I 
 believe that we shall ever be very great friends." 
 
 " Why so, my dear ? " said her father, drawing her somewhat 
 closer to him. 
 
 " Because she does not seem to know or care the least in the 
 world about anything that I like ; and I do not know or care at 
 all more concerning all she talks about." 
 
 " Well, Elizabeth ! " replied her father, " this is unfortunate, 
 but perhaps not very extraordinary. However, you know we 
 may be all very kind and obliging to her, nevertheless." 
 
 " Oh ! certainly, papa ! of course, because she is a very neax 
 relation. Only perhaps, as she is so very womanly, mamma 
 would invite her next time to dine with you, and let Emily and 
 me come into the drawing-room before you come up stairs, as 
 usual. And then, for the rest of the evening, and when we 
 were all together, I should not mind it at all." 
 
 Mrs. Hubert, who had changed her place while this conver- 
 sation was going cm, and seated herself close behind her husband, 
 whose arm was thrown round his daughter, could hardly repress 
 a smile at this improved plan of operations, but she did not 
 permit it to be seen, and said, with much matter-of-fact gravity, 
 " I believe you are right, my dear ; and if her mamma makes no 
 objection, I certainly will do so. Accident, education, perhaps 
 the climate in which she was born, seem to have made this 
 young cousin prematurely a woman, and throwing you together 
 as girls of the same age, must, I have no doubt, be equally irk- 
 some to both. We will not do so again, Elizabeth. Good 
 night, dearest." 
 
 Miss Hubert repaid this expression of maternal sympathy 
 with a very tender kiss, and bestowing one also on her father, 
 with rather more fondness than usuaj, as if to show that she was 
 exceedingly obliged by having encountered no opposition to the 
 extraordinary measures she had been bold enough to recommend, 
 she left the room apparently in excellent spirits, and without 
 any external symptoms remaining of the extreme weariness of 
 which she had complained. 
 
 " Miss WUmot is right," exclaimed Mrs. Hubert, as soon as 
 the door was closed. " There is evidently no danger of Eliza- 
 beth's liking this terrible coiisin too well." 
 
DANGER AND DEFENCES. 125 
 
 "Why, yes, my dear," replied the general, " I think you may 
 be tolerably easy on that point. And now, Agnes, to speak 
 without any jesting at all, I trust that your spirits will recover 
 their tranquillity, and that you will cease to look every now 
 and then as if you had just recollected some dreadful calamity 
 that was hanging over you. The cause, my love, is really not 
 sufficient to justify the effect. We are not the first people in 
 the world, depend upon it, who have had a queer looking 
 set of cousins arrive from distant lands to claim kindred with 
 them. WiU you promise not to worry yourself about it any 
 more ? " 
 
 " Yes, Montague. I shall behave better now. But I can- 
 not teU you how I have dreaded the seeing my pure-minded, 
 ingenuous Elizabeth falhng into any tone of intimacy with my 
 unfortunate young cousin ; - and yet it seemed almost inevitable, 
 when two young things of equal age were thrown together. 
 But I did not do our girl justice. Dear creature ! I ought tp 
 have felt from the first that it was impossible." 
 
 " I think so, madonna," replied General Hubert, rather 
 reproachfully. " However, I will forgive this misdoulating of 
 the wisdom and good taste of fourteen, if you will promise to 
 support with perfect equanimity whatever efiervescence may 
 chance to arise from the superabundance of these good gifts at 
 threescore and ten. I confess to you, Agues, I rather dread 
 the arrival of aunt Betsy." 
 
 " And so do I too," replied his wife, laughing ; " but it is 
 with a very different sort of dread from what I felt, when in 
 doubt as to the effect that might be produced by this new ac- 
 quaintance on Elizabeth, and my dear, kind-hearted father, too ! 
 He will be here in a fortnight. And I perfectly weU know 
 what will happen. At first, he will feel that he cannot be too 
 kind, too cordial in his welcome to my aunt — whereupon she 
 will stun him with her eloquence, smother him with her affection, 
 wear his spirits out by her incessant caUs upon his admiration 
 for her daughter, till he grows nervous — falls into a fit of the 
 gout, and instead of benefiting by the sea breezes we have pro- 
 mised him, he will shut himself up in his room without saying 
 a word about his sufferings to anybody, but suffering martyr- 
 dom nevertheless." 
 
 " Yes, that will- be the progress exactly from benignity that 
 desires the happiness of all the world, to a gentle melancholy 
 meekly resigning every hope of it for himself. Nevertheless, I 
 think that, by keeping guard over him pretty watchfully, I 
 may be able, perhaps, to save him from a good deal of it. But 
 who can keep guard over aunt Betsy ? Who can prevent her 
 seeing everything, hearing everything, comprehending every- 
 thing, and — acting accordingly ? " 
 
126 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " If she is very outrageous, we must laugh at her," repHed 
 Agnes ; " not but it will be hers to laugh at us first. Do you 
 remember her prognostications and her prophecies, Montague, 
 when Mrs. O'Donagough first renewed the intercourse with us? 
 Will she not have some cause to triumph now ? " 
 
 " No, no, no, dear — not the least in the world," replied the 
 general. " There will be room enough in our little island, 
 depend upon it, both for the O'Donagough race and the 
 Huberts too ; and we must be very silly folks, certainly, if we 
 cannot contrive to see as little of them as our own sense of 
 propriety will permit us to do." 
 
 " Unquestionably it should be so," returned Agnes, musingly, 
 " and, therefore, we will trust that so it will be. But tell me, 
 Montague, what sort of conversation did that solemn-looking 
 Mr. O'Donagough entertain you with, after we left the table 't 
 He is a singular-looking man, with an expression of counte- 
 nance that seems to hover between natural audacity and affected 
 sanotification." 
 
 " Yes," replied the general, " it is a remarkably puzzling 
 face — and manner too. I cannot make him out." 
 
 "Did he talk much?" 
 
 " No ; very little — and I doubt if aunt Betsy herself could 
 have found much to object to in anything he uttered. Never- 
 theless, I dislike him, without being able exactly to explain 
 why." 
 
 " Nay, General Hubert, I think that riddle may be easily 
 read," repUed Agnes ; " both in person and manner he is coarse 
 and ungentlemanlike." 
 
 " True ! yet that seems hardly suiRcient to explain the 
 feeling I have about him. There was an evident air of restraint 
 in every word he uttered, yet it did not seem to proceed from 
 what is usually called shyness either, for his conversation, such 
 as it was, consisted chiefly of questions concerning all our 
 family connections, and in a style of pertinacity too, which shy- 
 ness, I think, ' would gambol from.' Your father, in particular, 
 and Frederick seemed to possess a strong hold upon \as, travelled 
 memory." 
 
 " I suppose that was because my father was so very civil 
 and good-natured the night of the famous leave-taking in Mrs. 
 Peter's drawing-room," replied Mrs. Hubert. 
 
 " Yes, certainly, that may account for it as far as your 
 father is concerned. But of the two, I tliink Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough's interest seemed to be most keenly awake respecting 
 everything of and concerning Frederick Stephenson — and I do 
 not remember that Frederick did anything towards making an 
 acquaintance with him on that memorable evening, beyond 
 reconnoitring him from a distant sofa, through Nora's eyeglass, 
 
AN KQUIVOCAL CHARACTKR. 127 
 
 which was, if you remember, the mode by which at that time 
 Fred constantly assisted all defects real or imaginary in his 
 visual organs." 
 
 " Oh ! I can see him now ! " returned Agnes, laughing. 
 " How well I remember his attitude as she, naughty girl, hid 
 her laughing face behind him ! — I am sure it is very good- 
 natured in Mr. O'Donagough, if he saw all that and forgave it." 
 
 " He appears perfectly to have forgiven it, I assure you — 
 inquired with an air of great interest where Frederick chiefly 
 resided, asked if he was as gay and lively as ever, and, if I mis- 
 take not, begged to know how many children he had — sum- 
 ming up the whole by assuring me that it would give him great 
 pleasure to meet him again." 
 
 " Well, certainly that does look like being in a very friendly 
 and affectionate frame of mind ! " replied Mrs. Hubert, " and 
 fortunately Nora never hears their names mentioned without 
 declaring that she wished for nothing so much as to meet my 
 aunt Barnaby again. I therefore see nothing to stop the re- 
 newal of the acquaintance so auspiciously begun through Nora's 
 eyeglass." 
 
 " By the way, Agnes," resumed the general, " did not your 
 aunt Barnaby on that occasion introduce her bridegToom as the 
 reverend Mr. O'Donagough? " 
 
 "Oh, yes! — certainly she did. And I presume he is the 
 reverend Mr. O'Donagough still, is he not ? " returned Mrs. 
 Hubert. 
 
 " I do not feel qiiite competentto answer that question," re- 
 phed her husband. " He certainly did not teU me he was not, 
 yet somehow or other I doubt it. I think, from his appearance, 
 that it is most probable he went out as a missionary — not of the 
 Church of England, — and if so, it is as likely as not, that on 
 returning he left his frock behind him. He said something 
 about young men's first ardent impressions and opinions being 
 liable to change, and then muttered something about himself as 
 being an example of this. But I felt no inclination for the auto- 
 biography which I fancied was coming upon me, and as he did 
 not seem inclined to take wine, I put a stop to it by joining you." 
 
 " Very skilfully managed," said Agnes ; " and to say truth, 
 I have sufficient faith in your generalship, mon general, to pre- 
 vent my having much fear about your individual annoyance. 
 But of all our difficulties the greatest is behind ! Alas ! Mon- 
 tague, who is it must break to Aunt Betsy, on her arrival, the 
 astoimding fact that her niece, Martha, is in Europe — ^in Eng- 
 land — ^in Sussex — ^in Brighton — perhaps in this very house ! 
 Who is it. General Hubert, that wiU tell her this ? " 
 
 "Dearest Agnes! It can only be yourself," replied her 
 husband, maliciously. 
 
128 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " Hubert ! have you the heart ? " 
 
 " Why, no, I rather think I have not," he replied. " But 
 do you not think the wisest way will be for ua to go through 
 the scene together ? If you insist upon my making the announce- 
 ment tete-a-tete, you will have it all to go through again after- 
 wards." 
 
 " True !— most true ! Let us be together, Montague ! " 
 
 " And pray, my love," resumed the general, laughing, "do 
 you think it wiU be necessary to surround yourself with the 
 same sort of chevaux de /rise when the event is made known to 
 your father ? " 
 
 " Oh ! no, not at all ! — ^I am quite sure that everything 
 which recalls the memory of my poor mother, has a charm for 
 him. And then, observe, he has never seen my aunt Barnaby 
 as you did, Montague, in the terrible days of her Clifton bril- 
 hanoe. Still less, if possible, does he know anytliing of her 
 various offences against aunt Betsy ; so that to this moment he 
 is perfectly free from any feeling of dislike towards her of any 
 kind. He must be aware, I suppose, that we have quizzed her 
 letters a little — ^but that's nothing. And do you not think, 
 dearest Montague, that it will be but right and proper to leave 
 him as much as possible in the same favourable state of mind 
 towards her? Poor thing! I fear she is not more likely to 
 make friends now, than formerly, and her plea of being my own . 
 mother's sister does often come upon me with a painful convic- 
 tion of its strength ! " 
 
 " Let it not be painful, dear Agnes! " replied her husband, 
 kindly ; " you may be obliging and useful to her in many ways, 
 which need not interfere with our own comfort. Depend upon 
 it the worst part of the re-union is over. What Elizabeth 
 says of the young lady, will infallibly prove true of the whole 
 party. They are not at all more likely to like us than we are 
 to like them, and I shrewdly suspect they are all three yawning 
 at this moment with as much genuine weariness as ourselves. 
 So let us go to rest, dearest, without permitting our Australian 
 cousins to haunt us even in our dreams. 
 
 CHAPTER XrV. 
 
 During the fortnight which followed, General and Mrs. 
 Hubert, with their eldest daughter, were absent from Brighton 
 on a visit, at a friend's house, about twenty miles distant. 
 Mrs. O'Donagough considered this as a most unfortunate con- 
 tretems, and bewailed her iU-luck accordingly ; but to say the 
 truth, neither her husband nor her daughter shared her sorrow. 
 
MISS PATTY IN A STATE OF BLISS. 129 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough was perfectly satisfied for the present 
 by having convinced himself that no floating vision of Major 
 AUen existed in any cell of memory, either with the general 
 or his lady, which could be called to light and hfe again by look- 
 ing at him. 
 
 It was not then, and it was not there, however, that he 
 hoped to profit by the acquaintance, and he was quite as well 
 pleased to be left just at fijst in the free and unobserved enjoy- 
 ment of his restoration to the pastimes of " auld lang syne," 
 without having before his eyes the fear of not being suffici- 
 ently aristocratical in the estimation of General Hubert. 
 
 As to Miss Patty, the intensity of her happiness was much 
 too great to leave room for anything hke regret. Sallying 
 forth at least six times in every day, sometimes in one smart 
 set of ribbons, and sometimes in another, saie each time of 
 meeting " lots of men,^' as she remarked to her mamma, " who 
 did nothing but stare at her as long as she was in sight," how 
 could she fail to await with patience the coming on of the 
 adventmres which she was determined to have some day or other 
 with those " two darlings" who had bowed to Elizabeth? She 
 did wait with patience, or rather she could hardly be said to 
 wait at aU, for every hour of every day had its allotted joy, till 
 at last she ceased to care about " those two young fellows" at aU. 
 
 No sooner was breakfast over every sunshiny morning, than 
 either father or mother were told that they must come with her 
 to the pier ; and either father or mother obeyed, nothing loth, 
 sharing with parental pride in her dehght, as every eye fol- 
 lowed her in her laughing, bounding, ringlet-shaking, ribbon- 
 fluttering course. 
 
 " That's Dacre, mamma ! Ain't he beautiful ? He's major 
 
 in the . The maid says he is going to be married, but I'U 
 
 be hanged if I believe a word of it. He didn't ought to look 
 that way at me, mamma, if he's going to be married, did he ? " 
 — ^may be quoted as one among a thousand speeches which 
 proved the amiable tone of confidential familiarity which existed 
 at this time between Mrs. O'Donagough and her daughter, and 
 it would be doing the fond mother injustice, were it not added, 
 that all such outpourings of her young daughter's heart were 
 welcomed with a sort of joyous sympathy, which fostered and 
 strengthened every feeling they displayed. 
 
 Nor was Mr. Allen O'Donagough a whit less indulgent to his 
 blooming heiress. Not, indeed, that she so frequently made him 
 the confident of her military speculations as her mother ; on the 
 contrary, his presence generally acted in some degree as a check 
 on her communications in this Une : nevertheless, there were not 
 wanting a multitude of occasions on which his affection, and her 
 influence, were displayed. She made him subscribe to both the 
 
 I 
 
130 THE ■WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 principal libraries, because, as she said, " it was so abominably 
 provoking to know that anybody that one particularly wanted 
 to see was lounging at either, and not to be able to go in, and 
 sit down for a little while, if one liked it." She repeatedly 
 coaxed him to take places at the theatre for herself and her 
 mamma, though he protested that the lamps made his head ache 
 so much, that he could not stay with them ; but this want of 
 gallantry was fully atoned for, by his making acquaintance at 
 the billiard-table with one lieutenant and two ensigns, whom he 
 brought home to play whist, and eat lobster salad, twice in the 
 course of the week ; thereby putting the keystone to his daugh- 
 ter's triumphant felicity, by giving her the chance, every time 
 she went out, that ttoe officers in full uniform might turn 
 round on meeting her and her mamma, and clank their swords 
 upon the pavement beside them, for as many blessed moments 
 as they could spare. 
 
 In short, Patty felt convinced that it was impossible to have 
 a better father, and had the point been still unsettled, his con- 
 duct in a little scene which took place after they had been in 
 Brighton about a week, would have put the matter qxiite out of 
 doubt. 
 
 " Papa," said the lively girl one morning, as they amused 
 themselves by standing together to watch the bathers, " Papa, 
 you must let me bathe ! " 
 
 " Bathe, Patty ? " exclaimed Mr. O'Donagough in reply ; 
 " what on earth should you bathe for ? Why you are the very 
 picture of health, child, and a very pretty picture too, I must 
 say. Better let well alone, Patty. The sea may tan your nice 
 skin for what I know." 
 
 " Not it, papa ! " cried Patty, snapping her fingers gaily in 
 his face. " My skin will bear more than that before it is 
 spoiled, PU answer for it ; and bathe I must, papa. Upon my 
 word and honour I must I Now do just look at those heads 
 bobbing up and down, and peeping round to look at each other. 
 Isn't that capital fun now ? Indeed, indeed, papa, you must 
 let me bathe ; and if you don't, I won't mind a single word you 
 say about wearing shabby things out of sight, or anything else, 
 for a month to come. You had better mind what I say at once, 
 Pappy," added the young lady, mimicking her mamma's constant 
 phrase when lecturing herself, and only substituting Pappy for 
 Patty, at the end of it. 
 
 This last sally was more than the father could withstand ; 
 the mimicry was excellent, and his enjoyment of it so great, 
 that he swayed himself backwards and forwards upon the sea- 
 rail, over which he hung till his daughter seized the flaps of his 
 coat to pull him back, lest he should fall over it. 
 
 " You little devil, you ! " burst from him as soon as he could 
 
RESPECTABLE NEIGHBOURS. 131 
 
 recover his voice. " I should like to see the man that could say 
 you nay. And so you must bathe, must you ? And bob your 
 handsome head up and down among the rest of 'em ? And so 
 you shall, saucy one, if you like it. Only it must not be above 
 once a week. Miss Patty, remember that, for it comes deuced 
 dear, I promise you." 
 
 In short, in one way or another, the first week, and the 
 second week wore pleasantly away, notwithstanding the absence 
 of their great relations, and considerably before the expiration 
 of the fortnight, Mrs. O'Donagough herself confessed, that 
 much as she doted upon her darling Agnes, Brighton was a very 
 deUghtful place, even though she was not there to enjoy it with 
 her. 
 
 The daily increasing intimacy between Mr. O'Donagough 
 and the sporting portion of the officers quartered in and near 
 the town, had unquestionably much to do with this general 
 family feeling that Brighton was the most agreeable place in the 
 world ; but about three days after the departure of the Huberts, 
 another circumstance occurred which greatly enhanced their 
 enjoyment of it. 
 
 In the same house with the O'Donagough family, occupying 
 the front parlour as their sitting-room, lodged two young ladies, 
 sisters, of an uncertain age, but of the most certain decorum 
 and respectabiUty. The windows of their parlour, commanding 
 as they did the approach to the house-door, and a full unbroken 
 view of the steps leading to it, enabled these young ladies to 
 form a very just and accurate estimate of the number and 
 quahty of the guests who visited " the family in the drawing- 
 room." " Tell me who are your friends, and I wiU tell you 
 what you are," was a proverb, the recondite wisdom of which 
 was famDiar to the minds of both the sisters, and it would have 
 been difficult to find an occasion on which it would have been 
 more profitably applicable. A few days of diligent observation, 
 followed by a clear-headed logical deduction of conclusions from 
 premises, enabled the two Miss Perkinses to decide, beyond the 
 possibility of a doubt, that the O'Donagoughs were persons of 
 high consideration, and the most unquestionable respectability. 
 In the first place, the approach of General Hubert's styhsh 
 servant had been noted, commented upon, and duly estimated ; 
 and when the visit of the general himself and his lady followed, 
 whose names and persons were as well known to the whole 
 motley mass of Brighton elegance as those of royalty itself, the 
 vicinity of such neighbours became matter of very serious im- 
 portance indeed. Then quickly followed the information, on 
 the unquestionable authority of the maid of the house, that they 
 had all actually dined at General Hubert's, and were, moreover, 
 very nearly related to him. After this intelligence reached 
 
 I 2 
 
132 THE WIDOW MAREIED. 
 
 them, the excellent good sense of the Miss Perkinses decided 
 that a feeling of what they owed to themselves rendered it abso- 
 lutely necessary that they shovdd in some way or other find 
 means of becoming personally acquainted with the occupiers of 
 the drawing-room apartment. 
 
 This matter was still in discussion between the two sisters, 
 though more as to the feasibility of the object they had in view, 
 than from any doubt as to the propriety of the measure, when 
 it was observed by both the ladies, each from the vrindow which 
 she especially called her own, that several military gentlemen, 
 of different ages, but all, as Miss Matilda observed, looking per- 
 fectly hke men of fashion, were coming and going, both morning 
 and evening, in a manner that gave every reason to believe they 
 were on terms of great intimacy with the family they came to 
 visit. 
 
 No one in any degree acquainted with the moral and social 
 map of the ordinary existence of single ladies, " living on their 
 means," and passing a season at Brighton, can doubt for a 
 moment that this discovery very sharply pricked the sides of 
 the Miss Perkinses' intent of becoming acquainted with Mrs. 
 O'Donagough. In fact, it produced a sort of irritating 
 intensity of purpose, especially in the mind of the youngest 
 sister, which could hardly faU, sooner or later, of achieving its 
 object. 
 
 "That is the third I have watched in and out to-day!" 
 said Miss Matilda, in a voice that faltered from agitation, as 
 
 Cornet Dartmore, of the dragoons, passed out upon the 
 
 pavement. 
 
 "The third, is it? I have seen two," returned the less 
 observant elder sister ; and then, after a moment of reflection, 
 she added, " Of course, Matilda, the O'Donagoughs must see a 
 great deal of the mihtary at General Hubert's, and in that way 
 I dare say they wiU get acquainted with them all." 
 
 " Of course they do, Louisa. You don't suppose I was so 
 stupid as to express any surprise at it — quite the contrary ; for 
 I am sure I should think it the most unnatural thing in the 
 world if they did not. What I was thinking of, and what I 
 very often do think of, Louisa, was that aU the vulgar, common- 
 place nonsense people talk, about the disagreeableness of being 
 an old maid, does not signify one single farthing. I, for one, 
 despise it from the bottom of my heart. But what I know does 
 signify, and in reality makes all the difference between being 
 happy and miserable, is having the cleverness, good luck, or 
 whatever it is, not to be left out of everything that is going on ; 
 and just to know gentlemen enough to speak to now and then, 
 or to take a turn with one, hke other people, if it was only for 
 two or three minutes at a time." 
 
AK OLD MAID AND A YOUNGEK ONE. 133 
 
 " That is perfectly true, my dear," replied Miss Perkins, 
 " and it is just like your good sense and right way of thinking 
 to say it ; and it certainly is very hard, when people are as 
 reasonable as you are, that they should not have what they 
 wish." 
 
 " I do think it is,'' said Matilda, with a gentle sigh ; " and I 
 give you my word and honour that, if I know my own heart, I 
 should be perfectly contented and perfectly happy, if we could 
 but get into a gay set of acquaintance. But that I do wish for, 
 and I won't deny it." 
 
 " To be sure it would be a great blessing in every way ! " 
 replied the elder sister, with much feeling. " What a difference 
 it would make every day of oiu' lives ! and of course, Matilda, 
 you think about it stiU more than I do, and it is very natural 
 you should, my dear. You are five years younger than I am, 
 and that makes a great difference, particularly just at your 
 age." 
 
 " Five years and three months," rejoined the younger. 
 " My birthday is in September, almost the end, and yours in 
 July, at the very beginning." 
 
 " Very true, my dear, so it is indeed. And besides, you 
 happen to be so very remarkably young-looking, Matilda, that 
 you look like a mere girl beside me. I am sure anybody in the 
 world might take you for a dozen years younger than I am, at 
 the very least, instead of five, or five and a quarter." 
 
 " I don't know about that, my dear Louisa," replied the 
 younger sister, modestly. " I suppose I do look rather young, 
 because everybody says so ; and besides you don't make the 
 most of yourself, and I am saie I wish you did ; you would look 
 as young again if you would but take a little pains about it. 
 That is one great reason of the difference, for I won't deny that 
 I do take a great deal of pains, and so I think one ought. In 
 my opinion one owes it to oneself, and it is quite a duty not to 
 neglect it." 
 
 After this there was a pause of some minutes, during which 
 both sisters assiduously continued the needlework on which they 
 were employed ; but in fact their silence proceeded more from 
 the crowding of their ideas than from any lack of them. 
 
 "What do you think would be the best way, Louisa?" 
 pronounced in an accent half playful, half shy, by Miss Matilda, 
 were the next words uttered. 
 
 " The best way to do what, my dear ? " responded Miss 
 Louisa, with a look of perfect and most genuine innocence ; for 
 in truth the mind of the elder sister had been occupied in 
 meditation on the general question of oldmaidism, and not on 
 that particular branch of it which concerned the officers who- 
 visited the family in the drawing-room. 
 
134 THE WIDOW MARRIED, 
 
 " Don't you remember what we were talking about, sister ?" 
 said the younger, colouring a little, and somewhat in an accent 
 of reproach. 
 
 " Yes, to be sure I do, my dear ; about the foolishness of 
 caring sp overmuch about being married." 
 
 " No, no, I don't mean that, Louisa ! we were talking of 
 something quite different. I want you to say, sister, what you 
 think would be the best and most lady-Hke way of making 
 acquaintance with Mrs. O'Donagough. I am more and more 
 convinced, the longer I think of it, that it ought to be done 
 somehow or other. It is really too stupid sitting here like two 
 fools, and speaking to nobody." 
 
 " Dear me ! Tliink what a head I have got ! If you will 
 believe me, I didn't the least bit remember that we had been 
 talking about that," replied the more resigned and tranquil- 
 minded elder sister. 
 
 " Then I wish you would remember it, Louisa ! It is ex- 
 cessively hard upon me to have everything left for me to 
 manage. Do tell me, will you, at once, what you think would 
 be the most advantageous way of beginning the acquaintance ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, Matilda, that is no easy thing to say. 
 People so highly connected, you must remember, are never so 
 easy of access as those that are less distinguished ; and though I 
 don't mean to say that people in our situation of life, living as 
 we do independently on our own fortunes, are not company for 
 anybody, yet this family cannot be treated in the same way one 
 might go to work with common ordinary ladies and gentlemen, 
 like the Larkins last year at Hastings, you remember, or those 
 dear, good-natured Thompsons at Worthing. But, to be sure, 
 Matilda, it would be a very great thing for us both, and par- 
 ticularly for you, my dear. The place so full and all ! " 
 
 " It would be just everything, Louisa ! and one way or 
 another it must be managed. That fine tall girl of theirs looks 
 the very picture of good nature, and Hannah says she isn't the 
 least bit proud in any way ; chattering away with her about the 
 officers, and everything else, in the kindest manner possible," 
 replied Miss Matilda, eagerly. " I would give the world to know 
 her ! " 
 
 "Then suppose, my dear," replied the elder sister, "we 
 were to try first with her? I have often observed that very 
 young girls, and quite old gentlemen, are the easiest people to 
 get acquainted with everywhere. Suppose, Matilda, we try 
 speaking to the young lady first? " 
 
 " Stop a moment, will you ! I will hear the rest presently," 
 cried Miss Matilda, suddeidy starting from the work-table, and 
 hurrying out of the room. 
 
 Her sister looked up as the door closed sharply behind her, 
 
A TELESCOPIC INTRODUCTION. 135 
 
 ■with some degree of surprise ; but being naturally of a composed 
 temperament, she soon restored her attention wholly to tha 
 quilling of her tulle, nor ceased her occupation, twiddUng it into 
 becoming shape as a tour de bonnet, with rosebuds, ribbons, and 
 so forth, till the entire fabric was complete. How long exactly 
 this might have taken her she would have been at a loss to say ; 
 but when the work was ended, and had been tried on and 
 approved. Miss Perkins began to wonder where sister Matty 
 might be, chiefly because she wanted her to pass judgment on 
 her performance, and confirm her own conviction that it was 
 very pretty indeed. 
 
 Having looked at herself ia the glass four several times, and 
 out of the window upon the open sea as many, this sisterly 
 longing was leading her towards the door, when she was stopped 
 by hearing voices upon the stairs in gay, laughing, loud con- 
 versation, one of which was her sister's. Miss Perkins hesitated 
 a moment whether she should open the door in order to discover 
 who Miss Matilda's merry companion might be, and had just 
 decided that it would be quite ridiculous not to do it, when the 
 desired operation was performed from the other side, and Miss 
 Matilda entered side by side with Miss Patty O'Donagough, 
 both talking together, fast and loud, and apparently the very 
 best friends in the world. 
 
 Miss Matilda Perkins bore in her hand a telescope, and the 
 first words her sister distinctly heard and understood were, 
 " Oh, my dear Miss O'Donagough, you must positively just 
 come in and have a peep ! You have no idea how exceedingly 
 amusing it is, especially just now that it happens to be high 
 water, with so many boats about and so many people bathing! 
 This is Miss O'Donagough, sister — ^Miss Perkins, Miss O'Dona- 
 gough. I was so lucky, Louisa, as just to meet this young 
 lady as I came down from our room with the telescope, and I 
 have just been so excessively amused by it up stairs, that, when 
 I saw her look with curiosity at the instrument, I could not 
 resist my inclination to ask her in to look through it. Is it 
 not good-natured of her to come ? So very kind and obhging ! " 
 
 " I am veiy happy to see the young lady, I am sure, for that 
 or any other reason," replied the elder sister, assiduously opening 
 the window and fixing the telescope commodiously. "It is a 
 very nice clear glass. Miss O'Donagough, and this window has 
 got such a beautiful view ! It is certainly very amusing." 
 
 " Now isn't that first-rate capital fun ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Patty, after a long steady gaze through the glass. " How I do 
 envy you having such a beautiful amusement ! You are looking 
 through it all day long, ain't you, when you are not walking 
 out?" 
 
 " We do use it a good deal, certainly," replied Miss Matilda, 
 
136 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 with an expressive nod of the head ; " but I do assure you, my 
 dear Miss O'Donagough, that both my sister and myself shall 
 always haye the very greatest pleasure in giving it up to you, 
 or your mamma either, if she would do us the favour to call in 
 and use it." 
 
 " Oh ! for that, mamma will never get it out of my hands, 
 I promise you, whenever I get it into 'em. But it will be very 
 good-natured of you, I am sure, if you will let me come and 
 have a peep sometimes." 
 
 Both sisters were most earnest and eager in their assurances 
 that there was nothing in the world they should hke so well as 
 seeing her come in and out fifty times a day, if she hked it. 
 
 " Well, then, I shall hke it, you may depend upon it," 
 replied Patty. " It will be such nice fun to gallop down here, 
 whenever I am tired of the old ones up stairs. , Hannah told 
 me you were very free, pleasant sort of ladies, and so you are." 
 
 " I am sure, it is very kind of you to say so," replied Miss 
 Perkins, simpering, " and it will be no sacrifice at all for me 
 to give up the telescopfe, because, of course, you know, my dear, 
 I don't think so much of all those httle gay amusements as my 
 sister does. I am so many, many years older than Matilda, 
 that it makes a great difference in all things of that sort, you 
 know. So she and you, my dear young lady, may take the glass, 
 turn and turn about, whenever you are here, and that woidd be 
 better almost than having it all to yourself, for that might 
 make your eyes ache, which would be a pity, I am sure, so 
 beautiful as they are." 
 
 Patty repaid this amiable prelude to lasting fiiendship by 
 saying, as she again put the glass to her eye, "I am sure you are 
 monstrous kind and good-natured, and so I shall tell mamma, 
 and papa, too — and I shall make them both come and see you." 
 
 A happy and triumphant look was exchanged between the 
 sisters, while one of Patty's bright eyes was glued to the instru- 
 ment, which made it, as she said, almost as pleasant to live in a 
 house, as upon the pier itself, and the other screwed ujp with 
 skilful and most patient perseverance till she had carefully 
 scanned every individual head within reach of her examination. 
 
 The acquaintance thus happily begun between the drawing- 
 room and the parlour, progressed without the slightest draw- 
 back from the feelings of any single individual concerned ; and 
 many were the miles of hot walking spared Mrs. O'Donagough 
 thereby, at the which she rejoiced not a httle, for much as she 
 loved to see and be seen, the excessive activity of her hvely 
 daughter, had already caused her to pant and to blow under all 
 the brilliance of a September sun at Brighton, for more hours 
 than were quite agreeable to her age and size, and it soon be- 
 came an understood thing between the new associates, that the 
 
THE VAITJE OF FASHIONABLE RELATIONS. 137 
 
 Miss Perkinses should take care of Patty in all her long lounges 
 backward and forward, over the cliff and under the cliff; wlule 
 in return, Mrs. O'Donagough should chaperon them all, about 
 three times a day to the libraries ; by which arrangement. Miss 
 Louisa got a great deal of very agreeable and improving con- 
 versation with Mrs. O'Donagough, and Miss Matilda very soon 
 achieved a bowing and sometimes even a speaking acquaint- 
 ance with all the gentlemen of Mr. O'Donagough's Brighton 
 acquaintance. Their evening parties, too, were quite dehghtful. 
 As the hours of daylight shortened, the hours for the card-table 
 lengthened, and the company of the Miss Perkinses was agree- 
 able in every way. 
 
 Nobody made tea for a party of gentlemen with so much 
 skill, and so inexhaustible a stock of smiles as Miss MatUda ; 
 and no one was ever so well qualified to teach new stitches to 
 waning eyes as Miss Louisa, who, still struggling against spec- 
 tacles herself, had discovered or invented a prodigious number 
 of devices by which " patterns" would do just as well a little 
 awry, as not. 
 
 Li this way, the fortnight of her " darling niece's" absence 
 made itself wings ; and when at length Mr. O'Donagough 
 brought home the news that he had seen General Hubert on 
 horseback, it was hailed by his lady with infinitely less ecstasy 
 than he expected. 
 
 " You don't seem half so much out of your wits, my dear, 
 as I expected," observed Mr. O'Donagough, laughing in high 
 good-humour — the result, probably, of the propitious termi- 
 nation of his morning's amusement. " I thought you would 
 begin singing and dancing when I told you that your beloved 
 niece was come back ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, Donny ! my singing and dancing days are over ; 
 however, of course I am very glad, and I shall take Patty to call 
 there to-morrow without fail. But the fact is, this place is so 
 delightful — ^Patty is so much admired — the prawns and every- 
 thing are so nice — ^those dear good Perkinses are such a comfort 
 to me — and you are almost always in such high good-humour, 
 that I am sure I don't want nieces or nephews, or anybody 
 else, to make me happy here. However, of course I shall go 
 and call to-morrow." 
 
 " Lor, mamma, I hope you will leave me behind if you do ! " 
 exclaimed Miss Patty. " I had rather take one walk with 
 Matilda Perkins, old as she is, than a dozen with that prig in 
 petticoats, Elizabeth Hubert." 
 
 " That's likely enough, darling," replied her mamma ; " but 
 if you are the sharp girl I take you for, you'll soon find that 
 there's more reasons than one for making much of one's re- 
 lations. You only just look at the Perkinses, Patty, when I 
 
138 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 talk of my niece, Mrs. Hubert, before them, or at Dacre, or 
 Willis, or Foxcroft, or any one of the oflScers, and you'U see fast 
 enough whether they are worth calling upon or not." 
 
 " That's true as that the sun's in heaven, Patty," said her 
 father, with great animation ; "so keep a proper look-out girl, 
 or you and I shall be two." 
 
 " La ! what a fuss you are making! " said the young lady, 
 tartly ; " I never said I meant to cut 'em, did I? But I sup- 
 pose I may think them fogrums and quizzes, if I choose ? " 
 
 "I don't care what you may think 'em, my black-eyed 
 beauty, if you do but take care to make the most of the cousin- 
 ship," said her father. " So mind, miss, I shall question your 
 mother about your behaviour to-morrow, and if I hear of sour 
 looks, or impertinent airs of any kind, you shall not bathe again 
 as long as you stay at Brighton. Just mind that." 
 
 Miss Patty tossed her head, but said no more ; for she, as 
 well as her mjmma, had learned to know when her papa was in 
 earnest. 
 
 It rarely happened but that when one parent admonished 
 Miss O'Donagough, the other declared her to be peculiarly im- 
 peccable, and even praiseworthy on that particular point; but 
 in the present instance the case was otherwise. Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough was equally ediiied and gratified by the sentiments 
 expressed by her husband, and to atone for any seeming indif- 
 ference manifested by her own manner of receiving the intelli- 
 gence of her elegant niece's return, she took an opportunity, 
 about an hour afterwards, when both the Miss Perkinses and 
 Lieutenant Foxcroft were present, to make her joy and gladness 
 appear with such eloquent vehemence, as elicited from aU the 
 most cordial congratulations on the event. 
 
 " You may well be proud of your niece, ma'am," said the 
 lieutenant. " Shd's the iirst woman in Brighton, out and out." 
 
 " Ah I Captain Foxcroft," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, who 
 generally gave brevet rank to all her military acquaintance, 
 "beautiful as she, is, that is her least merit I do assure you! 
 Dear creature ! I brought her up entirely myself, and, therefore, 
 you know I may venture to speak for her mental qualities. To 
 be sure I did take incessant pains with her ! Every one of her 
 accomplishments were of my own teaching, and I must say it, 
 though I should not, that she has turned out exactly what I 
 desired she should be." 
 
 " How very gratifying! " exclaimed Miss Perkins. 
 
 " And such an elegant creature, too ! " subjoined Miss 
 Matilda. " What a reward for all your care ! " 
 
 " I must say," added Mrs. O'Donagough, looking with an 
 expression of ingenuous modesty in the face of Lieutenant Fox- 
 croft, " I must say that she had both precept and example to 
 
I^ATHERS BT MOONLIGHT. 139 
 
 help her, and I have the pleasure of knowing that the excellent 
 match she made was entirely in consequence of my having for- 
 tunately attracted the attention of General Hubert — he was 
 only Colonel Hubert then, but a most distinguished man in 
 every way ; and when he found that Agnes had been brought 
 up by me, he immediately paid his addresses to her. Cannot 
 you guess, my dear Miss Perkins, how gratifying the remem- 
 Ijrance of this must be to my feelings while witnessing their 
 present conjugal happiness ? " 
 
 " Oh dear me ! yes, I can indeed, Mrs. O'Donagough, and 
 I hope and trust the same delightful thing will happen over 
 again with your charming daughter." 
 
 " I am sure you are very kind," returned the gratified 
 mother ; " yes, that is exactly the sort of marriage I wish her 
 to make — such high connections you know ! — so every way 
 desirable." 
 
 And here, while Mr. O'Donagough and the lieutenant sat 
 down to a game of piquet, Mrs. O'Donagough lowered her 
 voice to a confidential whisper, while she poured into Miss 
 Perkins's ear numberless interesting Uttle particulars relative to 
 many of her own youthful adventures, among which the touch- 
 ing episode of Lord Mucklebury's sending her a set of shells, 
 long after they were parted for ever, was not forgotten. 
 
 While this went on at one end of the room, on the sofa, 
 Patty, by a movement of the finger, and a wink of the eye, 
 invited Miss Matilda to station herself beside her, at a still open 
 window at the other. 
 
 " Don't go on listening to mamma's prosing. Miss Matilda; 
 there's no fun in that," said she, familiarly passing her arm 
 through that of her new friend. 
 
 " What a dear girl you are," murmured Miss Matilda, in 
 reply ; " and how I do wish you would always call me Matilda, 
 without any Miss at all before it." 
 
 " Do you ? " replied Patty, laughing; " bo I will then, for I 
 like monstrously to be intimate with you, because you are such 
 a capital one for fun. Don't those dear feathers look beautiful 
 in the moonlight, inarching along under the windows? " 
 
 " That they do indeed, Patty ! " replied her friend, with a 
 speaking pressure of the arm. " That's Captain Thwaites that's 
 just past — he's reckoned the handsomest man in Brighton ; but 
 I think your cousin. General Hubert, is handsomer, though, to 
 be sure, he is not quite so young." 
 
 " He handsome? — what that tall, thin, hideous, stiflf old fel- 
 low ? Oh, Matilda ! if I could but show you one man, you'd 
 never think any other handsome again — ^that is, not very, very 
 handsome, as long as ever you hved." 
 
 " Indeed, Patty ! and who is that, my dear ? " 
 
140 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 " Hush! Don't speak loud? But if I am to call you 
 Matilda, and we are to be out and out real friends, I don't 
 think it would be at all right for me not to tell you everything. 
 For real particular friends, you know, never have any secrets 
 from one another." 
 
 " Dear creature ! " exclaimed Miss Matilda, in a whisper, 
 with another affectionate pressure of the arm, " teU me every- 
 thing then." 
 
 " And you will never say a word about it to mamma, nor to 
 your sister either ? " 
 
 " No, not for the world, my dearest Patty.'' 
 
 " Let us lean out of the window then," said Miss O'Dona- 
 gough, " and I will teU you the history of the only real lover I 
 ever had, that was worth talking about." 
 
 With arms still interlaced, and heads projected, as if gazing 
 on the beautiful effects of the moonbeams on the sea, the two 
 friends there stood together tiU Patty had poured forth the 
 whole history of Jack's tender attentions during the whole 
 voyage from Sydney ; his escape from drowning — his recovery 
 from death on her lap ; and lastly, the parting kiss, by which, 
 as she said, she well knew he meant to pledge his troth to her 
 for life. 
 
 " But my darling girl, do you mean that he was a common 
 EaUor ? " demanded the confidant, in an accent of considerable 
 surprise. 
 
 " A common sailor, indeed ! — Good gracious ! — ^no, Matilda. 
 Before he went on shore mamma found out that he was certainly 
 somebody of very great consequence in disguise." 
 
 " Good heavens ! my dear, you don't say so ? What a com- 
 plete adventure? And you so young too! Oh, you lucky 
 girl!" 
 
 "Ain't I, MatUda? But when shall I see him again, 
 dear ? Do you think he will ever come to look for me? " 
 
 " You may depend upon it, Patty," &c., &o. 
 
 And so the conversation went on, deepening in its tone of 
 affectionate confidence, till two or three more officers came into 
 the room, and then Miss Matilda was summoned to her well- 
 loved place at the tea-table. But this did not happen till a 
 very broad and lasting foundation of friendship had been laid 
 between Miss Matilda Perkins and Miss Martha O'Donagough 
 — a friendship which was not without a lasting influence on the 
 happiness of both. 
 
ATTNT BETSY ARRIVES. 141 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Here's aunt Betsy ! — here's aunt Betsy! " burst from the little 
 Emily, as she stood at the drawing-room windows the day after 
 General Hubert, his wife, and daughter, returned to Brighton ; 
 and the words were accompanied with such gay clapping of the 
 hands, and such joyous skippings and boundings, as left no 
 doubt of the sort of welcome the great-great-aunt was likely to 
 receive. 
 
 " She is come, indeed, mamma! " cried Elizabeth, throwing 
 aside the book she was reading, and exhibiting very nearly as 
 much childish glee as her younger sister. " May I run down to 
 meet her? " 
 
 " No, no, Elizabeth, let me go first and take her into the 
 parlour," rephed Mrs. Hubert; " she maybe tired by her journey, 
 dear, and may wish to be a httle quiet at first." 
 
 "Mairana! mamma! Compton is come too! Compton is 
 handing aunt Betsy out ! " cried EmUy, who still kept her post 
 at the window. This was intelligence that seemed naturally 
 and of necessity to break down aU restraints, whether of ceremony 
 or prudence, and mother and daughters very nearly vied with 
 each other in the velocity with which they descended the stairs. 
 The old lady and her' young attendant were, however, in the 
 hall by the time they reached it ; and the presence of the young 
 man proved to be of considerable utOity, occupying his two 
 sisters so completely for a minute or two, as to give Mrs. 
 Hubert the power of leading her venerable aunt quietly to an 
 arm-chair in the parlour, and hearing her declare that she had 
 enjoyed the journey exceedingly, and was all the better for it. 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Compton, as she was of course called by all the 
 world, save the Hubert family, was at this time somewhat past 
 seventy ; but never was the allotted three score years and ten 
 borne with less consciousness of their weight than by this fragile- 
 looking little spinster. She was as thin as it was well possible 
 to be, her dehcate little hand hterally permitting light to be 
 visible athwart its sHght integuments ; but all there was of her 
 seemed imperishable; hardly partaking of the materials on 
 which the wear and tear of time takes hold, and with an un- 
 quenched spirit in her eye that shot forth the same intellectual 
 vigour it had ever done. 
 
 " My dearest aunt ! " cried Mrs. Hubert, fondly hanging 
 over her, and looking into the cheerful face that smiled upon 
 her, with truly filial affection, — " my dearest aunt, how deMght- 
 ful it is to see you thus so completely yourself, so perfectly well 
 and unwearied, after your long journey." 
 
142 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " No very long journey, dearest Agnes ! Tou see how I am 
 accompanied — and I suppose you guess that I arrived in London 
 the day before yesterday, and waited till my appUcation to the 
 Stephensons to run away with my young squire, from their 
 river abode at Richmond to your marine abode here, could be 
 forwarded and granted. Do you think the general will be 
 very angry with me for stealing a week or two from the 
 mathematics ? " 
 
 " Not past forgiveness, aunt Betsy ! " replied Mrs. Hubert, 
 now stepping towards the door by which her son was entering, 
 and offering, with successfcd rivalry, a mother's arms to draw 
 him from those of his sister's, which still encompassed him. 
 
 "Is he not grown, mamma? "said EHzabeth. "Did you 
 ever see anything so tall ? " 
 
 " Karely at sixteen, minus four months," replied his mother, 
 looking at him with frresistible admiration. " I only hope he 
 does not mean to grow any taller." 
 
 " I shall not answer that till I have measured myself with 
 my father," said the boy, drawing himself up, and exhibiting as 
 fine a face and person as nature ever bestowed. " My intention 
 is to be exactly as tall as General Hubert ; for, as it is my fuU 
 purpose and resolution to be a General Hubert myself, I really 
 think the best thing I can do is to take him for my model. But 
 do not talk of my being tall, EUzabeth is a perfect giantess ! 
 Thank Heaven ! however, I do not think she is quite so ugly as 
 she was — what do you think about it, aunt Betsy ? " 
 
 Altogether there never was a happier family -meeting, every 
 heart was overflowing with love and joy ; and had it not been 
 that the recollection of the O'Donagough family once or twice 
 mantled the cheeks of Agnes with a blush which the old lady 
 saw, but could by no means understand, every one of the httle 
 party might have been said to be in a state of perfect enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 In about an hour after Mrs. Compton's arrival, and when 
 she was comfortably installed in the drawing-room, General 
 Hubert returned from his ride, and again all the pleasure of the 
 meeting was renewed. He was almost as fond of the eccentric 
 old lady as Agnes herself, and felt a degree of pleasure from her 
 society, and from the whimsical, but shrewd spirit of her conver- 
 sation, which is rarely communicated by persons of her age. 
 But in the midst of their hvely talk, there were moments when 
 the brave general looked almost as embarrassed as his fair lady, 
 upon recollecting the nature of the family news he had under- 
 taken to communicate, and not even the sight of his noble- 
 looking boy, whom he had not seen since he left him at Sand- 
 
AN EMBAKRASSING SUBJECT. 143 
 
 hurst some months before, could drive Mrs. O'Donagough and 
 her family from his head for ten minutes together, At length, 
 suddenly coming to the conviction, like Macbeth, that — 
 
 If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well 
 It were done quickly. 
 
 He stopped his son Compton short in a very animated descrip- 
 tion, which he was addressing to his mother and sisters, of a 
 royal review of which he had been recently a spectator, and 
 saying, laughingly, " Aides-de-camp — chargers—dukes — mar- 
 quises — firing and charging 1 
 
 " Mercy on me, Compton ! you are like a magazine of pow- 
 der in the very act of ignition. Do explode, for the especial 
 advantage of Elizabeth and EmUy, in the dining-room, will you? 
 — ^for I reaUy want to converse a little with your aunt." 
 
 The gay young trio started up, and made their exit, while 
 the face of their mother, who perfectly comprehended the 
 motive of the manoeuvre, instantly became of a very bright 
 "celestial rosy red," and she had actually the cowardice to 
 walk to the other end of the room for her work-box, in order to 
 have something on which to fix her eyes, that she might avoid 
 the danger of encountering those of aunt Betsy. 
 " He-hem ! " said the general. 
 
 "Are you going to work, dear Agnes?" said the old lady. 
 " Don't go to work yet, love ! I have not looked at you half 
 enough." 
 
 " My dear aunt ! " began the general, and paused. 
 
 "My dear general !" returned the old lady, gaily, with her 
 head a little on one side, and her bright eyes twinkling in his 
 face, with a look of exceeding pleasure ; for there was nothing 
 she liked better than to be called " aunt" by General Hubert. 
 
 " My dear aunt, we have some news to tell you," he re- 
 sumed ; " and I am sorry to say that I am not quite sure you 
 will like them." 
 
 " Indeed ! what can that be, I wonder ? Montague is not 
 ill, is he ? I have seen all the rest of you — pooh ! nonsense, 
 general ! — ^tell us your news, I do assure you I am not in the 
 least afraid to hear them." 
 
 "Aunt Betsy! — ^Mrs. O'Donagough and her family are come 
 to England." 
 
 A most perfect silence, which lasted at least two minutes, 
 followed this announcement, and then the old lady said, in a 
 sort of hvely tone, pecuhar to herself, quite indescribable, but 
 exceedingly expressive of a little internal mechancete — "Mrs. 
 O'Donagough and her family arrived in England ? Well, General 
 Hubert ! — I really cannot conceive why you should imagine this 
 news woiild not be agreeable to me. All persons, I beheve, 
 
144 
 
 THE •WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 rather like to have their prophecies come true. Remember what 
 that keen observer the Dean of St. Patrick said, 
 
 He'd rather that his friend should die 
 Thaa his prediction prove a lie. 
 
 " Then why, my dear sir, should you entertain any doubt of 
 my heartfelt participation of your joy on this occasion. Look 
 up, my dear Mrs. Hubert ! — never mind your carpet-work for a 
 few minutes. Let me wish you joy, my dear. You are now 
 about to reap the reward of all your unwearied and imceasing 
 attentions to these amiable relatives ! How you must enjoy the 
 idea of it ! And the general, too— just as Ms young family are 
 growing up. What an advantage for them. Elizabeth in 
 particular. I should think the young ladies must be nearly of 
 the same age, and I cannot doubt that my niece, your aunt, 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, formerly the widow Barnaby, keeping in 
 mind the many proofs of affectionate remembrance which you 
 have bestowed on her during the whole period of her absence, 
 will indulge Miss Hubert with her daughter's company both in 
 town and country as much as you could possibly desire. I 
 really wish you, heartily, joy of tins most happy family re-union. 
 It is, as indeed you well know, no more than I was quite sure 
 would happen ; but as you never appeared to agree with me in 
 this opinion, the circumstance must come upon you with all the 
 additional delight of being unexpected. — ^I wish you joy. General 
 Hubert, heartily." 
 
 General Hubert looked half angry at some parts of this 
 harangue ; but before it was ended he had perfectly recovered 
 his good-humour, and said with a laugh, that was at least half 
 genuine, 
 
 " Come, come, aunt Betsy. As you are great, be merciful 
 — ^you certainly appear to have seen further into futurity, than 
 either Agnes or myself — ^I freely confess that I never thought 
 these good people would return to England, and I will freely 
 confess, also, that I should have been quite as well pleased if 
 they had not. But jesting apart, their arrival cannot in reality 
 be matter of any very serious uneasiness to us, and I confess I 
 feel not in the least degree doubtful but that I shall be able to 
 guard my stronghold, wife, daughter, and all, against aU the 
 attacks which the O'Donagough faction may be able to bring 
 against it." 
 
 The flexible and speaking features of the little old lady's 
 expressive face changed, as she listened to these words, from 
 a sort of gaiete maligne to a look of lamb-hie gentleness and 
 submission. 
 
 " Oh ! dear me. General Hubert. How can you for a moment 
 suppose I doubt it. Don't mind me, or anytMng I say. It is 
 
TROUBLESOME CONNECTIONS. 145 
 
 only my fdolish joking way, you know. I should behaTe better 
 if you had not all, young and old, conspired to spoU me. But 
 do not fancy for a moment that I am not aware of the utter im- 
 possibility that you should blunder in any way." 
 
 Agnes looked up at hei; aunt from the corner of her eye, and 
 shook her head, though almost imperceptibly, as she listened to 
 her ; but the unsuspicious general walked across the room to 
 the venerable mystifler, and taking her hand, replied, " Thank 
 you, dear madam, for your confidence in me. Even Agnes 
 must know by this time that it is impossible to pass through 
 Life without finding ourselves occasionally obliged to associate 
 with persons extremely far from agreeable ; and the great secret 
 I believe is, to learn how this may be done without josthng 
 against them." 
 
 " I dare say it is," said Mrs. Compton, in the same gentle 
 tone ; " and you must have had so much experience in the course 
 of your varied and busy career, that it cannot be doubted but 
 you must understand this better than most people — at any rate, 
 better than a poor old recluse hke me." 
 
 " Perhaps I do know something about such mysteries," 
 replied General Hubert, smihng, and dropping into a chair close 
 beside the old lady ; " and therefore I flatter myself that you 
 wOl let me keep watch and ward over you all, and guard you 
 from all social perils, let them come in what shape they may." 
 
 " Happy are those so guarded," responded Mrs. Ehzabeth 
 Compton, solemnly. 
 
 Here again Mrs. Hubert looked into the face of her aunt ; 
 but this time she did not shake her head, appearing on the con- 
 trary well satisfied at its expression, and looking herself mora 
 comfortable and at her ease than she had done since the discus- 
 sion began. 
 
 " Perhaps," said General Htibert, now fearlessly resuming 
 the theme, — " perhaps, under any other circumstances, I shoijld 
 be disposed to shake off the acquaintance of this O'Donagough 
 family altogether, and so get rid of the inconvenience as you 
 would do, my dear lady, at once. But I confess, after our long 
 correspondence, it strikes me that there would be something 
 very piisillanimous in this, and that it would look vastly as if we 
 were conscious of not having tact and savoir faire enough to 
 take care of ourselves." 
 
 " 'A soldier, and afraid?' " cried Mrs. Compton, briskly. 
 " Nay, then, my dear general, if such be your feeling, who can 
 wonder at your scorning what none but an old woman, perhaps, 
 would deem the better part of valour ? But tell me, dears, in 
 what part of England do our recovered relatives take up their 
 abode?" 
 
 General Hubert and his wife exchanged a furtive glance ; 
 
146 THE WIDOW MAEKIED. 
 
 but the gentleman answered boldly, " I really do not know, dear 
 aunt, where they mean to live ; but at this moment, I believe, 
 they are at Brighton." 
 
 The old lady was engaged in neatly folding a silk scarf she 
 had taken from her shoidders ; but, on hearing these words, she 
 stopped short in the middle of the operation, and remained for 
 about a minute as stiU as if she had been shot ; and then, having 
 taken rather a long breath, she resumed her employment, and 
 pronounced very tranquilly the monosyllable, " Oh ! " 
 
 It was precisely at this moment that a servant entered the 
 drawing-room, and putting a visiting-card into the hands of 
 Mrs. Hubert, said, " Are you at home, ma'am ? " 
 
 This discreet individual was the old butler, who, although he 
 had received no orders to deny his mistress, felt doubtful whether 
 the recent arrival of Mrs. Compton might not render the admis- 
 sion of company inconvenient. 
 
 Mrs. Hubert changed colour as her eye glanced upon the 
 card. 
 
 " Who is it, Agnes ? " inquired the general. But Agnes, 
 instead of answering, gave back the card to the servant with a 
 silent movement of the head, which indicated that it was to be 
 handed to his master. 
 
 There could hardly be a greater proof of the high considera- 
 tion in which Mrs. Compton was held, than that General 
 Hubert coloured also as he read the same ; but he rallied in- 
 stantly, and said, " This is Mrs. O'Donagough's card, my dear 
 madam. Perhaps' we had better send down word that we are 
 engaged? You are too recently arrived to wish for company." 
 
 " Decline seeing Mrs. O'Donagough on my account, General 
 Hubert ! " said the old lady, with a smile of ineffable sweetness. 
 " Oh ! no — ^I would set off for Compton Basset again instantly, 
 if I believed such a thing possible. I do assure you I shall be 
 dehghted to see her. I consider her coming just now as peculi- 
 arly fortunate." 
 
 " Desire Mrs. O'Donagough to walk up," said the general. 
 
 " This is quite an unexpected pleasure," said Mrs. Compton, 
 turning towards Agnes. " I assure you I feel quite curious to 
 see her." This was said so naturally, and, moreover, it ap- 
 peared so very hkely that the old lady might feel curious to see 
 her travelled niece, that Mrs. Hubert was perfectly restored to 
 composure by the assurance, and rose to receive her aunt and 
 cousin with as little repugnance as if she had been alone. 
 
 This entire composure was, however, a little shaken by the 
 ardour of Mrs. O'Donagough's approach, who rushed forward 
 with the same warmth of rapture that marked the first inter- 
 view with her beloved Agnes upon her arrival ; and it required 
 very considerable self-command on the part of Mrs. Hubert to 
 
** J!i> 
 
A QUIZZICAL OLD LADT. 147 
 
 endure without ■wincing the long, close hug bestowed upon her, 
 conscious the -Hrhile that aunt Betsy's eye was fixed upon her 
 and the capacious mass by which she was enveloped. At length, 
 however, Sob was released ; and then, with the sweet, gentle 
 gracefulness which could not forsake her, even when withdraw- 
 ing from the arms of Mrs. O'Donagough, she said, " Give me 
 leave, Mrs. O'Donagough, to iatroduce you to our aunt Comp- 
 ton. It is so many years since you met, that it is probable 
 neither would now recollect the other." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough started! a little, but immediately put 
 herself in an attitude of great dignity, while, probably to the 
 astonishment of all parties, Mrs. Compton rose from her chair, 
 and placing her hands before her,, made the lowest possible 
 courtesy, saying, as she did so, with a most courteous smile, 
 " You wrong my memory, niece Agnes ; and, as I should sur- 
 mise, that of Mrs. Bamaby O'Donagough also. We are neither 
 of us cast in moulds so common as to be easily forgotten. For 
 myself, at least, I can declare, with all sincerity, that I should 
 have recognised this lady as the daughter of Miss Martha Disett 
 in any part of the world." 
 
 " Well, ma'am, and I believe I can say as much for you," 
 replied Mrs. O'Donagough, ceremoniously returning the cour- 
 tesy. 
 
 "^Tou should have known me for Miss Martha Disett's 
 daughter ! " retorted the old lady, in her gayest voice. 
 
 " No, ma'am, certainly not," replied the swelling Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, filling a good-sized sofa with her presence as she 
 spoke. I could hardly have mistaken you for my mother's 
 daughter, I think. But I should have known you for my 
 other's sister anywhere." 
 
 " I thought so, I thought so. And pray, is this beautiful 
 young lady your daughter, ma'am ? " said the whimsical spin- 
 ster, fixing her looks upon Patty with a mixed expression of 
 wonder and admiration. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough looked for a moment as if she did not 
 quite know what she would be at •, but her internal conviction 
 of Patty's extreme beauty, and the indisputable glory of ma- 
 ternity which she knew attached to herself, and which now, for 
 the first time, was displayed before the (of course) envious eyes 
 of her old aunt, speedily restored her complacency, and she 
 replied with an air thatperfectly enchanted the old lady, " Yes, 
 ma'am, this young lady is my daughter. Miss Martha O'Dona- 
 gough ; as remarkable, I beg to assure you, for the accomplish- 
 ments of her mind, as for the beauty of her person. Though I 
 bring her up with the very greatest care, to prevent anything 
 like vanity entering her head, I don't scruple to allow that she 
 is handsome before her face — ^because she weU knows that liand- 
 
 j2 
 
148 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 some is as handsome does. Her excellent father, ■who is one of 
 the best and most thoroughly gentleman-like men in the world, 
 has always taught her to understand that beauty is of no con- 
 sequence whatever in comparison to good behaviour." 
 
 "What a treasure she must be!" cried Mrs. Compton, 
 gently but fervently ; " and so beautifully dressed too ! It is 
 easy to perceive, Mrs. Barnaby — O'Donagough I mean — that 
 she is a young lady of great fortune." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, thank God ! The days are gone and over 
 with me when I wanted anybody's help — ^Mr. O'Donagough is 
 a man of fortune, and in every way a gentleman." 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am, it seems to me that you are the most for- 
 tunate lady in the world," said Mrs. Compton, gravely. 
 
 " And so I am, ma'am, and no thanks, I must say, to any- 
 body but my own good conduct and knowledge how to conduct 
 myself. However, I am willing, if other people are, to let by- 
 gones be bygones — and only to remember that my relations are 
 my relations, without raking up any disagreeable old stories 
 about what's past." 
 
 " I am sure, Mrs. O'Donagough," replied the old lady, in 
 what might be almost called a voice of contrition, — " I am sure 
 we must all be very wicked people indeed, if we returned such 
 generosity on your part with ihgratitude. I am grown older, 
 and I hope wiser than I was, Mrs. O'Donagough, when I saw 
 you last, and I hope my conduct will give proof of it." 
 
 " Well, ma'am, it is never too late to mend," replied the 
 large lady, bestowing a sort of encouraging nod upon the little 
 one, whose figure, by comparison, hardly seemed to exceed the 
 proportions of a fairy ; " I dare say we shall get on very well to- 
 gether. And as you took such a fancy to my niece Agnes, 
 because she was pretty, it's likely enough you may do the same 
 by my daughter ; and if you do, you will find her everything 
 that a gentleman's daughter ought to be, — and as good and civil 
 to you as if you were as handsome, and smart, and young as 
 herself. Go over, Patty, and kiss your aunt Compton." 
 
 The young lady rose, and so did the old lady also ; but no one, 
 save Mrs. Hubert, in the least degree comprehended her feelings. 
 
 " No, no, young lady ! " she said, waving her off with her 
 hand, and walking with a quick step towards the door as she 
 spoke. " No, no, no ! I know better than to let the kisses of a 
 young beauty be wasted on a httle hunchbacked old woman 
 like me ! You must let me look at you, and admire you, which 
 I am sure I shall do without ceasing. But as to kissing — ^no, 
 no, no ! — the yormg lady knows better than that." ' 
 
 With these words she shpped out of the room, and took 
 refuge in one on the same floor, to which she had been already 
 introduced as her own. 
 
ASSTTRANCE OF GENTILITY. 149 
 
 "What a fanny old woman! "cried Miss Patty, a little 
 before the door was closed after her. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, child ! " said Mrs. O'Donagough, rather 
 sotto voce; " as we have made up aU our old quarrels so well, I 
 shan't let you put your own nose out of joint by any pertness, 
 remember that. How wonderfully well the old lady takes care 
 of herself! " continued Mrs. O'Donagough, addressing Mrs. 
 Hubert ; " I declare I think she looks better than ever she did 
 in her Ufe. By-the-by, my dear Agnes, what was all that stuff 
 she told us, about her being as rich as a Jew ? Don't you 
 remember ? I suppose it was all a jok^, wasn't it ? " 
 
 "Mrs. Compton is too generous to be very rich,'' repUed 
 Mrs. Hubert, gravely. 
 
 " What, she stiU gives away all her Ettle substance to beg- 
 gars, does she? She need not have lived hke a toad in a hole 
 in her own farm-house as she did, if she hadn't turned her back 
 on her own relations, and given all she had to make herself a 
 name among the poor. Your wife comes of a very good family, 
 GenerJil Hubert, little as that queer old soul may make you 
 think so." 
 
 " I am fully aware, Mrs. O'Donagough, of Mrs. Elizabeth 
 Compton's claims to respect in every way," replied General 
 Hubert with some stateliness. 
 
 " Oh ! dear me ! I did'nt mean to doubt it, sir — I know too 
 well what a gentleman is, to have any question of it. My own 
 Mr. O'Donagough will, I am quite sure, conduct himself to- 
 wards her exactly upon the same principle. But it is quite 
 right, nevertheless, for the credit of the family, that you should 
 both of you know that, notwithstanding her unaccountable 
 queer looks and ways, she is a born gentlewoman." 
 
 "BeUeve me, madam, I have never doubted it," replied 
 General Hubert, rising as if to leave the room. 
 
 " WOl you excuse me, aunt," said Agnes, rising also, " if I 
 leave you now to go to Mrs. Compton ? She is but just arrived 
 from town, and may require some attention after her journey." 
 
 " To be sure, my dear, you are quite right. I never preach 
 what I don't practise. Let us all be attentive to the poor old 
 soul. I am sure, if she behaves but decent, I don't want ever 
 to quarrel with her again. Come along, Patty. We shall find 
 our party at the library, I suppose. I hope, my dear Agnes, 
 that you, and the general, and Ehzabeth, will all give us the 
 pleasure of your company to tea and a sandwich some evening. 
 Aunt Betsy seems so mighty brisk, that perhaps she may come 
 too ; and Pll engage my word for it that Mr. O'Donagough 
 will receive her with every pohteness." 
 
 Mrs. Hubert coloured, faltered, and finally turned an im- 
 ploring look upon her husband, which he rightly interpreted 
 
150 THK WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 into a petition that he would reply to Mrs. O'Donagough'a 
 invitation. 
 
 " You are very kind, Mrs. O'Donagough," said he, stepping 
 forward ; " but when Mrs. Elizabeth Compton is with us, we 
 never answer for ourselves." 
 
 "My goodness!" exclaimed she, with unfeigned surprise, 
 " that is treating her with respect ! But I suppose you have 
 some reason for it. Upon my word, however, I would not 
 engage to say that Mr. O'Donagough would go quite that 
 length if ever she comes to stay with us. However, if you have 
 really cockered her up to that pass, general, I suppose I must 
 send a written invitation in proper style, and then you may 
 consult her and let me have a regular written answer. I 
 shouldn't wonder if the old lady was to feel a little curiosity to 
 see what sort of style we live in. She'll find a difference, Agnes, 
 I can tell her, from tjie time when you and I first broiled over 
 to Compton Basset, and found her stuck up in the middle of 
 her bees. Do you remember ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," rephed Mrs. Hubert. 
 
 " He ! he ! he ! What an old frump she was to me ! Do 
 you remember? — ^But never mind ! I have promised the poor 
 old soul that bygones should be bygones, and so they shall for 
 
 me. Come, Patty." 
 
 « * * * 
 
 For a minute or two after Mrs. O'Donagough and her 
 daughter had left the room. General and Mrs. Hubert remained 
 looking at each other in silence. At length Agnes said, " This 
 will never do, Montague ! We really ravist not let them meet 
 again. It is impossible Mrs. O'Donagough should long remain 
 insensible to the bitter quizzing aunt Betsy is pouring upon 
 her." 
 
 " I do request, my dearest Agnes," replied the general, "that 
 you will let things take their course. I have little doubt but 
 that aunt Betsy will manage her gibes and her jestings too dis- 
 creetly and too skilfully for any mischief to come ; and even 
 should the two ladies quarrel outright, it would be a matter of 
 no great consequence. But the fact is, Agnes, that aunt Betsy's 
 quizzings are rather directed against me than Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 I understand her perfectly, dear whimsical little old soul', and, 
 entre nous, I am quite determined to overthrow her tactics. She 
 wants to prove that we have acted very xmwisely in neglecting 
 her advice when she recommended us not to answer Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's first letter from Australia ; and I am determined - 
 to show her that I really know how to take care of myself and 
 you too, even though the redoubted Barnaby, daughter, 
 husband, and all, have had their claim to kindred fearlessly 
 admitted." 
 
COUNTER-PLOTTING. 151 
 
 Agnes smiled, 
 
 " So then," said she, " the business afoot is nothing less than 
 a sharp encounter between the wits of General Hubert and Mrs. 
 Elizabeth Compton. Eh hien ! Faites votre jeu, my husband 1 
 As it is utterly and altogether impossible that Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough should ever trouble my spirit more, except by troubhng 
 yours, I shall sit by and watch your manoeuvres as composedly as 
 if you were performing a comedy expressly for my amusement. 
 Neither am I in the least afraid of trusting my beloved aunt 
 Betsy in your hands — though I suspect you mean to plague her 
 a little— don't you ? " 
 
 "A little, perhaps," replied the general, laughing, "and 
 upon my word she deserves it. She really seems to suppose that 
 I and my race are in danger of being blighted and disgraced for 
 evermore, by the overpowering influence of these Australian 
 cousins. Don't you think she overrates their importance a little, 
 Agnes ? " 
 
 " "Why, yes, I hope she does. But, indeed, Montague, if she 
 goes on in the complimentary strain with them, I cannot answer 
 for my gravity. The surprised stare of the young lady's 
 enormous black eyes, and the comical struggle between gratified 
 vanity and suspicious mistrust in the countenance of my aunt 
 Barnaby are almost irresistible. What will you say to me if I 
 laugh outright ? And how on earth are we to keep Compton 
 in order? You know aunt Betsy is in all things considerably 
 too much inchned to charter the vehement exuberance of his 
 saucy animal spirits, and I fear, that if he should perchance take 
 it into his head to amuse himself at the expense of my exotic 
 relatives, she will haU him as an ally a great deal too joyfully. 
 Upon my word, Montague, I think we should do very wisely if 
 we moved our sea-quarters to East-Bourne or Hastings." 
 
 " And upon my word, Agnes, I am more nearly angry with 
 you for saying so, than I ever was in my life before. Should you 
 really think it wise and reasonable if I were to permit myself 
 and my household to be driven round the country from terror of 
 what the O'Donagough family could do to us ? Come, come, 
 Agnes ! This craven proposal only proceeds from a httle covert 
 incHnation to take part with aunt Betsy against me — ^is it not 
 so?" 
 
 " I doA't know — ^I assure you, Montague, I think we shall 
 get into a scrape while you and aunt Betsy are running this tilt 
 together." 
 
 " Fear nothing, dearest — for I only mean to prove to the 
 mischievous old lady, that notwithstanding aU her predictions, 
 we have run into no danger whatever." 
 
 " Well, then, I trust that you will soon succeed, and that 
 the joke will be safely over. But I have staid too long from her. 
 
152 THE WIDOW MAKRIBD. 
 
 Do you think I had better say anything to her about Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, or let the subject drop ? " 
 
 " Decidedly say nothing about them, unless she leads to it 
 herself, and I entreat, if she does this, and perseveres in the 
 same tone oi persiflage, that you will ' fool her to the top of her 
 bent,' and appear to understand everything she says literally." 
 
 " This will be no easy task, Montague, if she pushes the joke 
 much further. However, ' I will in aU my best obey you, sir ; ' 
 and trust that the influence of my name may enable me to enact 
 the vrai Agnes to your satisfaction." 
 
 While this conversation took place at one end of the Marine- 
 parade, Mrs. O'Donagough pursued her way in excellent spirits 
 to the other. Miss Patty, who had scarcely ever heard the 
 obnoxious name of aunt Betsy mentioned in her life, had now to 
 listen to a great many very deep and shrewd observations con- 
 cerning her. 
 
 " It is no little matter we have done to-day, Patty, I can tell 
 you that," said Mrs. O'Donagough, with an accent, which to 
 the young lady seemed rather mysterious in its solemnity. " Some 
 people say that thathttle crooked old woman is immensely rich ; 
 if she is — ^but that's neither here nor there — ^I won't pretend 
 even to give an opinion upon it, — only this much I will say, 
 that it is perfectly and altogether beyond the reach of belief that 
 General Hubert should let his wife make such a fuss about her 
 if she is not." 
 
 " She looks as if she hkd been buried fifty years and dug up 
 again," observed the young lady. 
 
 "That's a monstrous good description of her, Patty. But 
 don't you let your wit outrun youi discretion, darling. If she 
 has scraped and hoarded up some money from what ought to 
 have belonged to my poor dear father and nobody else, there is 
 no reason under the sim why it shouldn't every farthing come 
 to you. Everybody that ever heard of her knows that she is 
 the most capricious old soul alive, first taking a fancy to one 
 person and then to another. All of a sudden, once, for no 
 reason in the world that anybody could find out, she took it 
 into her head to spend nobody knows how much money in 
 dressing your cousin Agnes from top to toe, and sending her 
 off, miles and mUes from home, to a fine school. And to my 
 certain knowledge, she had never seen the child above once or 
 twice before. I was by when she took the fancy into her head, and 
 I am as sure as sure that it was for no other reason in the world 
 than just because the girl looked pretty when she took off her 
 bonnet and shook back her curls. I remember the stare she 
 gave her, as well as if it was but yesterday. And d'ye think, 
 Patty, I didn't see the stare she gave you to-day? Agnes 
 
MATRIMONIAL EXPECTATIONS. 153 
 
 Willoughby -was no more to be compared to you at the time I 
 speak of, than chalk to cheese, and I do beUeve in the bottom 
 of my heart, that, if we have but wit enough to flatter her up 
 a little and manage to put you forward well, you will have a 
 better chance now than any of 'em." 
 
 " Well, mamma," repMed Patty, yawning, " aU I have got 
 'to say is, that if the old mummy has got some tin to give, I 
 wish she'd come down with it at once, for I want to have a 
 black silk cloak, trimmed with lace like MatUda Perkins's ; and 
 if I don't get what she has hoarded soon I shan't care a farthing 
 about it at all, for Pm sure, when Pm married, I shall expect 
 my husband to shovel out the money whenever I may happen 
 to want it." 
 
 "Nonsense, Patty! don't talk so hke an idiot," replied her 
 mother. "You are old enough to know better ; or if you ain't, 
 Pm sure, you have no business with a black silk cloak triihmed 
 with lace. How do you think, child, that you are to get this 
 fine rich husband that is to shovel-out such loads of money 
 Tjpon you? I should think you might know without my telling 
 you, that a girl's chance of a good match is doubled and trebled 
 a hundred thousand times over by her having some money her- 
 self." 
 
 " Money enough to buy nice things and set her beauty off, 
 of course she ought to have, and it's a sin and shame if she 
 has not," rephed Patty ; " but I don't see what she wants of 
 anything more, if she's handsome." 
 
 "Why, then you are not half such a clever girl as I took 
 you for. Miss Martha. Take my word for it, that there is nd 
 man but what likes to get money with his wife, if he can 
 catch it." 
 
 " Tou don't mean to say, mamma,"^ cried the young lady, 
 colouring as red as scarlet, "you don't mean to say that such 
 a girl as I am ought to be married for her money ? " 
 
 " Lor a mercy, Patty, what a pepper-box you are ! I never 
 said any such thing, you little fool," rephed her mother, laugh- 
 ing. " Tou need not be in such a fright. Nobody can know 
 the value of fine eyes better than I do ; my time is not so long 
 gone by, I can tell you, but what I can remember what they 
 are worth. But that's neither here nor there, Patty ; the fact 
 is, you must be civil and attentive to this crabbed old lady, and 
 when your father hears what I shall tell him about her, he'll 
 be sharp enough in looking after your behaviour, PU engage 
 for it." 
 
 " Then let him give me a black silk cloak," said Patty ; 
 " ril be hanged if I plague myself to be civU to that little old 
 witch for nothing." 
 
 By this time they had reached their own lodgings, and it 
 
154 THE WIDOW MAKKIED. 
 
 was with great satisfaction that Mrs. O'Donagough found hei* 
 husband in solitary possession of the drawing-room, for her 
 mind was' full of important matter, and teUing Patty that she 
 had better go and caE on the Perkinses, she seated herself ex- 
 actly opposite to her spouse, and informed him of the unexpected 
 interview she had had with her old aunt. She recounted at . 
 length the history of the perfect reconciliation which had taken 
 place between them — described the old lady's evident and 
 frankly-expressed admiration for Patty — related the rumours 
 which had reached her before she quitted England, concerning 
 her aunt's accumulated wealth — and finally expressed her con- 
 viction that the best and wisest thing they could do, would be 
 to cultivate the acquaintance of the old lady most assiduously. 
 
 " I shall say the same, my Barnaby," repKed Mr. Allen 
 O'Donagough, " if I can find out that you are right about the 
 old queen's cash. But you don't seem over clear upon that 
 point, ^nd I have too much promising business upon my hands 
 already, to waste time in running after moonshine. I wonder 
 how the old lady came, whether she staged it, or posted? You 
 did not happen to hear, did you ? " 
 
 " No, Donny, I did not," replied his wife ; " but it would be 
 a capital thing to find out, wouldn't it ? It would be as good 
 as a peep into her strong box." 
 
 Mr. Allen O'Donagough did not answer, but eat musingly 
 swinging one leg over the arm of his chair for a minute or more, 
 then suddenly starting up, he said, " Let me find you here when 
 I come back, Barnaby ; I shall not be long." 
 
 Had time been allowed, the lady might have questioned him 
 as to his purpose, but there was not ; for before she could say 
 " Stay ! " he was out of the room, and in the next moment she 
 heard the house door close after him. 
 
 Though still unrecognised by any former acquaintance, Mr. 
 Allen O'Donagough had fully renewed his intimacy with aU the 
 holes and corners, terrestrial and aquatic, with which Brighton, 
 in common with aU other watering-places, abounds. To one of 
 them he now made his way, and beckoning to him one of the 
 satellites whom he knew as ever ready to do his bidding for six- 
 pence, he instructed him to repair to the house of General 
 Hubert, and inquire of the domestic who should answer the bell, 
 if he could be so obhging as to teU him where Mrs. Elizabeth 
 Compton's carriage put up. 
 
 In less than five minutes after Mr. O'Donagough had pointed 
 out the general's mansion to his agent, the fellow returned to 
 him at his station, in an obscure street close by, and told him 
 that the lady's carriage was at the Wellington Arms. Having 
 honourably paid the promised sixpence, Mr. O'Donagough pro- 
 ceeded to the stables indicated, and there had not only the 
 
FOETUNE-HUNTING. 155 
 
 Batisfaction of seeing Mrs. Elizabeth Compton's handsome travel- 
 ling carriage, but also a most respectable-looking domestic, who 
 stood by, evidently to superintend the various cleaning opera- 
 tions that it was undergoing within and without. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough approached and fixed his eye on the 
 lozenge with an air of an experienced herald. 
 
 "This is Mrs. Elizabeth's Compton's carriage, sir, is it 
 not ? " said he, civilly addressing the servant. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the man, touching his hat. 
 
 " I hope she is quite well ? " 
 
 " Quite well, sir, thank you.'' 
 
 " She must be getting old now, good lady. Did she come 
 down post all the way from London to-day ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; my mistress travels wonderfully well stiU. She 
 came post from Exeter to London the other day, without stop- 
 ping above an hour on the road." 
 
 " That is capital, indeed 1 Good morning." 
 
 it * * * * 
 
 " Yes, my Bamaby, the game is worth following. Her own 
 carriage — ^post all the way from Exeter, and a servant that 
 looks as if he might belong to a duke," said Mr. O'Donagough, 
 re-entering his drawing-room, and reseating himself in the chair 
 he had left about forty minutes before. 
 
 " Bless my soul ! you don't say so ! " exclaimed his wife in 
 ■return. " What a sly old miser she must have been for years 
 and years, to be sure ! But no matter for that, Donny — no 
 matter howthe moneywas scraped together,so as our Patty does 
 but get hold of it. If she does but get half, it would be weU 
 worth having, you know. Her own carriage — just think! — 
 post all the way from Exeter. Her own servant — ^think for a 
 moment, my dear, whether the half of that would not be worth 
 having ! and remember, that if she was to die to-morrow, we 
 have just exactly as good a right to it as the Huberts. My 
 Patty, you know, is precisely the self -same relation to her as 
 Agnes. Don't you see ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I see," replied Mr. Allen O'Donagough ; 
 " and a very pretty Httle sight it is, there's no doubt about that. 
 All you have got to do is, to keep it in view, and come in at 
 the death if you can." 
 
 " Then I will immediately write an invitation to them all to 
 spend the evening here on Wednesday next," said Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough. 
 
 " Do, my dear," replied her spouse : " and if they come, I 
 assure you I shall think very well of your chance." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough only gave an inteUigent nod in reply, 
 and seating herself at the table, immediately composed the fol- 
 lowing note : — 
 
156 THE TTIDOW MARKIBD. 
 
 " My dearest Agnes, 
 
 " I cannot describe to you the pleasure it has given me 
 to see my dear father's own sister again once more, and that, 
 too, in a manner so much more agreeable than upon any former 
 occasion. Thank Providence I my circumstances are such, that 
 I shall never -want to be troublesome to her any more in any 
 ■way ; and this must, of course, be a rehef to her mind, dear old 
 lady. Win you, my dearest Agnes, have the kindness to pre- 
 sent my most dutiful respects to her, and tell her that I should 
 consider it as the very greatest honour and favour if she would 
 come with you, and the general, and our dear Elizabeth, to pass 
 the evening with us on Wednesday next. I think that, if pos- 
 sible, our sea view is more beautiful than yours. At least Patty 
 says, that at high- water it beats aU the rest of Brighton. Poor 
 dear girl! — she is positively longing to see her great-aunt again! 
 She has been telling hei? papa that she never in her whole 
 life saw any old lady that she so much admired, and felt so 
 much inclined to love. Do, my dear Agnes — ^my own dear 
 sister's only child ! — do exert yourself to obtain this great plea- 
 sure for us, and believe me, my beloved niece, 
 
 " Your ever affectionate aunt, 
 
 "Maktha O'Donagough." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The note of invitation being written, Mrs. O'Donagough rose, 
 walked across the room, and putting it into her husband's hand, 
 said, while she gave Mm an affectionate pat on the shoulder, 
 " Read that, Donny, and tell me if you don't think I'm good for 
 something ! " 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough perused the billet with attention, and 
 replied, " Yes, upon my honour you are, Barnaby ! and iif you 
 carry this through, and get those stiff, formal people here to a 
 regular evening party, you wiH do an uncommon good thing, 
 and I shall give you more credit for that sort of talent (the 
 most important that a woman can have, by-the-by) than ever I 
 did in my hfe before." 
 
 It was just at this moment, and while Mrs. O'Donagough 
 was still rubbing her hands, and giving by her countenance 
 every indication of "measureless content," that Miss Patty 
 entered the room. 
 
 "What have you got there, papa?" she cried, gaily, jumping 
 forward towards him. " Give it to me,' I will see it, that's poz. 
 Mamma looks as if she were going to dance for joy about it." 
 
 " Give it to her, Donny," said her mother, " and then she 
 win see what is going on." 
 
PATTY MAKES A STIPULATIOlSr. 157 
 
 Patty took the note, and having read it, exclaimed, raising 
 both hands and eyes to heaven, " Well done, mamma ! If you 
 aia't the greatest Uar that ever broke bread, I'll be hanged. Do 
 you think the old soulvrill swallow all this ? Lord, papa ! when 
 you see her you wiU be ready to crack, as I was — Love her ! — / 
 love her! Nasty little withered old weasel! — How can you 
 vraite such Ues, mamma? " 
 
 " Patty ! " replied Mrs. O'Donagough solemnly, " there is 
 one truth which, if you do not know it already, it is time you 
 should. There is no duty more necessary to learn in the state 
 in which it has pleased Providence to place us, than that we 
 Tnust lie, as you vulgarly call it, when it is necessary. A wife 
 and a mother, Patty, has other things to think of, besides just 
 her own conscience and convenience. Of course it is much 
 easier to say the truth out, plump at once, and tell people that' 
 you don't like 'em, if you don't. But I should hke to know 
 how that would answer ? Never you trouble yourself about my 
 lying, I beg. I wiU never lie more than it is my bounden 
 duty to do — and I certainly shall never neglect that, for any 
 object." 
 
 " Your mother's a pattern, Patty," said Mr. O'Donagough, 
 winking aside at his daughter. And then added, more gravely, 
 " I'U teU you what, my beauty, I expect she's got hold of a fine 
 hand of cards just now, and neither you nor I must spoil the 
 playing of them." 
 
 " Bless your souls ! good people, I don't want to spoil any- 
 thing," rephed Patty, flinging the letter on the table ; " only I 
 say, papa, mind one thing — ^if you expect that I'll palaver these 
 nasty, disagreeable people for nothing, you're mistaken ; but if 
 you will give me a black silk mantelet, trimmed with lace, just 
 like Matilda Perkins's, I'll engage to do whatever mamma wants 
 with this little old mummy of an aunt. The old soul had sense 
 enough to say that I need not kiss her, because I could make 
 better use of my kisses than that, so I needn't cuddle her up, as 
 mamma does Mrs. Hubert — ^and I'm sure I couldn't, without 
 making all her, little bones crack, and fall to pieces ; but if you 
 win give me the cloak, you'll see how I'll smUe, and courtesy, 
 and behave pretty." 
 
 " Get away with you," said her father, laughing ; " you won't 
 leave me a penny in my pocket, with your coaxing ways, if I 
 don't take care. Come, my dear," he added, to his wife, " make 
 haste, seal your note, and send it." 
 
 " There's a difficulty about that, Mr. O'Donagough," she re- 
 plied. " It win be very awkward sending the maid of the house 
 vrith it. Of course, if they come, we must hire a waiter, and 
 take care to have everything in the very best possible style. 
 That's the only way, depend upon it, to give us a fair chance 
 
158 THE WIDOTV MARRIED. 
 
 against the Huberts. How can I manage, my dear, about send- 
 ing the note, without their seeing a maid-servant ? " 
 
 " Give it to me — ^I'H send it by a fellow that shall look like 
 a groom. That will do, I suppose? " said Mr. O'Donagough. 
 
 " Delightfully ! " replied his wife. And the note was 
 Bent. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 When Mrs. Hubert joined her venerable aunt in her room, 
 she found her in her usual mood, full of interest and affection 
 about the children, Mr. Willoughby, the Stephensons, and all in 
 short, who were objects of interest and affection to Agnes her- 
 self ; but all trace of persiflage was gone, and, as it seemed, all 
 memory of Mrs. O'Donagough with it. 
 
 After an hour's pleasant family gossip, they returned again 
 to the drawing-room, where they found the general engaged in 
 reading the London papers, which had just reached him. As if 
 to atone for any petulance she might have shown in their late 
 encounter, Mrs. Compton paused behind his chair as she passed, 
 and laying her little hand on his shoulder, said " Dear general ! 
 — ^what a pleasm-e it is to see you aU again ! " 
 
 He understood this as an amende, and accepted it. Rising 
 from his chair, he took her hand, kissed it affectionately, and 
 leading her to a sofa, sat down beside her, and entered into a 
 conversation fuU of kindness and animation on both sides.' 
 
 In the midst of this a silver salver entered, bearing a note 
 addressed to " Mrs. General Hubert." Agnes took it, and 
 glancing her eye at the direction, laid it, unopened, upon the 
 table. 
 
 " The servant waits for an answer," said the footman, 
 distinctly. 
 
 " Who is that from, Agnes ? " said the general. 
 
 Mrs. Hubert took up the note again, as if to examine it for 
 his satisfaction, but she coloured as she did so, and both her 
 husband and her aunt at the same moment, felt convinced that 
 it was an envoi from Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 " You need not wait, Philip," said General Hubert, " I wiU 
 ring when the answer is ready." 
 
 Mrs. Hubert meanwhile read her aunt's affectionate epistle 
 in sUence, and then put it into her husband's hand, who rose to 
 receive it. 
 
 " This good lady seems bent upon putting your patience to 
 the proof, aunt Betsy," said he, after glancing his eye over the 
 contents. " It is from Mrs. O'Donagough, and contains an 
 invitation for you and for us to an evening party, at her house 
 next week." 
 
 " May I know what she says ? " demanded the old lady, 
 sedately. General Hubert put the note into her hands. "Alasl 
 
MOKE BANTER. 159 
 
 general," said she, " I have not my eyes here — will you have the 
 kindness to read it to me ? " Agnes could not repress a smile as 
 she watched the countenance of her husband on receiving this 
 request, but there was no escape from the task, and he 
 read aloud the affectionate effusion with perfect gravity, 
 and very sufficient distinctness. The eye of Agnes was fixed 
 upon her aunt as he proceeded. At first her countenance 
 expressed a very natural inclination to smde, in which Mrs. 
 Hubert frankly joined, feehng delighted that all mystification 
 on the subject seemed at an end ; but ere the lecture was com- 
 pleted, the mischievous little black eyes were soberly fixed on 
 the carpet, the mouth pursed up in affected gravity, and every 
 feature indicating a relapse into the same whimsical mood 
 which had seized upon her on learning the arrival of her niece ia 
 England. 
 
 " I presume we shall all be of one mind as to the answer to 
 this epistle ? " said General Hubert, throwing the note upon the 
 table. 
 
 " Indeed I hope so," replied Mrs. Compton, meekly. The 
 general did not quite like the accent, and looking in her face, 
 read there, plainly enough, her renewed purpose of teasing him. 
 Had he at that moment wisely determined to lay down his arms, 
 confess himself exceedingly annoyed at the result of his own 
 indiscretion, and shown himself inclined to allow that they 
 should have done better had they followed her advice, Mrs. 
 Compton would have given him no further trouble; they would 
 all have acted in concert, and the O'Donagough plague would 
 have been stayed. Unfortunately, however, such wisdom did 
 not at the moment suit his humour, and he met her renewed 
 banter in a tone as foreign from sincerity as her own. 
 " Is the answer to be no, or yes ? " said he. 
 " Surely we cannot refuse such an invitation as that? " said 
 the old lady, in a voice which seemed to deprecate the general's 
 suspected harshness of purpose. " I am quite siure that if you 
 dream of doing so, it can be only on my account, and I cannot 
 think of permitting it. Poor lady! how affectionately she 
 writes. You really do seem, my dear Agnes, to have conquered, 
 by your incessant kindness, all the httle asperities of her charac- 
 ter. And that noble-looking young lady her daughter, too ! 
 What a fond, attaching sort of person she must be ! Do, Gene- 
 ral Hubert, have the kindness to read over again that passage 
 in which Mrs. O'Donagough expresses the young lady's feeUngs 
 towards me." 
 
 General Hubert cast a look upon his wife, half frowning, 
 half laughing, and held out his hand again for the letter. But 
 Agnes shook her head. Notwithstanding her strong affection 
 for the old lady, she did not quite approve the species of disci- 
 
160 THE WIDOW MAKEIED. 
 
 pline she was bestowing upon her husband, and instead of 
 giving back Mrs. O'Donagough's epistle, she opened it, and ap- 
 peared to be pondering upon its contents. 
 
 " You cannot be in earnest, aunt Betsy," said she, " in 
 talking of accepting this invitation. I am sure you would find 
 an evening so spent intolerably tedious." 
 
 " Indeed, Agnes, you do not do me justice," replied Mrs. 
 Compton. " The time has been certainly when I felt less kindly 
 disposed to Mrs. O'Donagough than yourself and the general : 
 nay, so far did I carry my prejudice against her, that I fancied 
 there might be sometliing hke imprudence in renewing an 
 intercourse which circumstances had so completely interrupted. 
 I confess all this. But you are not to suppose me obstinate 
 in error to such a degree as to refuse yielding my own judg- 
 ment to that of General Hubert. And as to my finding the 
 evening tedious, I am quite certain that I shall be more pleased 
 and amused by it than anybody." 
 
 " Pray, Agnes, let your aunt do as she likes," said Gene- 
 ral Hubert. " Write, my love, wiU you, and say that you 
 accept the invitation." 
 
 This was carrying the jest, if jest it might be called, conr 
 siderably farther than Mrs. Hubert approved; and after the 
 pause of a moment she determined upon venturing to address a 
 remonstrance to both the parties, who thus, by the indulgence 
 of a species of competition in wilfulness, half jest, half earnest, 
 were, as she thought, running a great risk of getting into a scrape 
 which would be equally disagreeable to both. But as she raised 
 her head to speak, she encountered the eyes of her husband, 
 who, evidently suspecting her purpose, appeared determined to 
 prevent it by giving her a look that recalled at once his injunc- 
 tions on the subject, and her own promise to comply with 
 them. 
 
 " Here is your desk, Agnes," he said ; " do not keep the 
 servant longer waiting." 
 
 Agnes took paper and a pen, but again she paused ere she 
 used them. " Are you really in earnest, my dear aunt, in saying 
 that you intend to pass an evening with Mrs. O'Donagough?" 
 said she. 
 
 " Pray, Agnes, do not doubt my word when I have given 
 it to you," replied Mrs. Compton, very gravely. So a civil 
 note, accepting the invitation, was written and despatched. 
 
 The manner of its reception very clearly proved its im- 
 portance. Mr. O'Donagough himself indeed said but Httle, but 
 that little was impressive. " General Hubert and his family 
 are then actually coming to pass the evening here on your invi- 
 tation, my wife?" said he. " Go on as you have begun, my 
 Barnaby, and I may have to buy a court-dress for you yet." 
 
AN OVERWHELMING FAYOUR. 161 
 
 It was not from seeing any improbability of the event pre- 
 dicted that Mrs. O'Donagough paid little attention to the 
 prediction at that moment ; on the contrary, her feelings might 
 rather be expressed by the French phrase, Ca va, sam mot dire 
 — ^but, gaily snapping her fingers, she only'rephed, "Let me 
 alone, Uonny, and you'll see sights before we've done." 
 
 Having uttered these sibylline words, Mrs. O'Donagough left 
 the room, and sought, as all ladies under such circumstances 
 do, to get together a female committee for the despatch of busi- 
 ness. More rapidly than most persons of her age and size could 
 have performed the feat, she descended to the parlour of the 
 INIiss Perkinses, and fortunately found them, together with Patty, 
 in full enjoyment of the open window and the telescope. Had 
 the room been unoccupied, not all Mrs. O'Donagough's trium- 
 phant feeKngs would have saved her from a state of positive 
 suffering, for the same delightful exhilaration of spirits which 
 then made her eloquent, would have swelled her bosom almost 
 to bursting, had she found no Mends to share it. 
 
 She entered with the important note open in her hand. 
 " So ! here you are, my dear girls ! I'm monstrous glad I have 
 found you, for I have fifty things to say. In the first place, 
 my dear Miss Perkinses, I hope you have no engagement for 
 Wednesday evening next, for I want you to pass it with us." 
 
 " Oh ! my dear madam," replied the elder sister, " I am sure 
 your kindness and hospitality know no bounds. We shall be 
 most happy to wait upon you." 
 
 " If I had fifty engagements," said Miss Matilda, " you may 
 depend upon it I should not keep one of them, if you asked me 
 the same evening. Should I, Patty?" she said, affectionately 
 squeezing the arm of Miss O'Donagough, which rested upon 
 hers. 
 
 " You are a dear, good girl, Matilda," rephed Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, with chuokHng good humour ; " and this time I flatter 
 myself I shall give you a party worth having. I know you 
 admire both General Hubert and his lady, and they will be with 
 us on Wednesday." 
 
 Not all Mrs. O'Donagough's efforts to assume a tone of 
 nonchalance, as she said tliis, could prevent a degree of lisping 
 affectation from pervading her delivery of the important 
 names, but the two Miss Perkinses were two much excited to 
 remark it. 
 
 " You don't say so ! " honestly exclaimed the elder, without 
 attempting to disguise cither her surprise or pleasure. " This is 
 kind, ma'am, indeed. I heard somebody say at the library that 
 they were going to meet them at the Pavilion next week. Isn't 
 it kind to ask us, Matilda ? " 
 
 " Mrs. O'Donagough is always kind," rephed the younger, 
 
 ic 
 
162 THE WIDOW MAERIED. 
 
 ■with great decorum, " and I shall have much pleasure in meet- 
 ing the general and his lady, because I really admire them. 
 One meets such multitudes of people that visit at the Pavilion, 
 that it is not that circumstance which strikes me. But the near 
 relations of friends I value so greatly cannot but be interesting 
 to me." 
 
 " That's just like you, Matilda," replied the fond aunt of 
 Mrs. Plubert ; " and you will like too, I know, and for the same 
 kind reason, to meet my rich old aunt, as well as my elegant 
 niece. This old lady, Mrs. Elizabeth Compton, is not, I pro- 
 mise you, the least important personage of the party. She is 
 the maiden sister of my late dear father, is as rich as a Jew, and 
 looks, as I have good reason to believe, with rather a partial eye 
 on my saucy Patty, here." 
 
 " Oh, you dear, lucky girl," cried the affectionate Matilda, 
 throwing her arms round her young friend's neck — " How 
 delighted I am to hear it." 
 
 " Lord ! what does money signify, Matilda, to a girl that's 
 young and handsome ? If you think that I mean to be married 
 for my money, you're out, I can tell you. I should have thought 
 you had known better than that." 
 
 " Married for your money, indeed. What nonsense. Who 
 ever thought of that ? " replied JSIiss Matilda, playfully shoving 
 the buxom Patty within sight of her own image in the glass ; 
 " but money's money for all that, my sweet girl." 
 
 " And so it is, Matilda ! " cried Sirs. O'Donagough, approv- 
 ingly, " and you can't do better than make Patty understand 
 what that means. But now, my dear girls, we must come to 
 business. Do you know I have been thinking that it would be 
 better to have the refreshments down here, if you'll lend us the 
 room ? " 
 
 To this proposal the two sisters replied together, with such 
 uniformity of accent, thought, and feehng, that it seemed as if 
 one voice only uttered the joyful " Oh dear yes ! we shall be so 
 delighted," which followed it. 
 
 "Well then, my dears, that's settled. And now I must 
 inquire about a nice respectable-looking man to wait. You 
 don't happen, I suppose, to know of such a one, do you? " 
 
 " I am quite sure I know where you can hear of one,'' 
 rephed Miss Perkins ; " for I saw a notice up at a baker's shop 
 in one of the cross streets ; I can't exactly recollect where ; but 
 I don't doubt that I could find it." 
 
 " What a dear, clever creature you are ! " cried Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, laying her two heavy hands on the slender arms of Miss 
 Perkins; " then I shall leave that job to you. Next, there's the 
 wax candles to be thought of. We must get Mrs. Bates to let us 
 have all the lamps and candlesticks she has got. I see you have 
 
A FINANCIAL NOVELTT. 163 
 
 branches to that pretty convex mirror over the sideboard ; they 
 will make the room look very elegant : hut then there's the 
 ice to be ordered, and cakes, and coffee, and cream. My poor 
 head has work enough, hasn't it ? That's the worst, you see, of 
 giving parties in a lodging house, without one's own servants 
 and things about one. Ah me ! my dears, if you had known 
 me at SUverton Park during the time of my first marriage with 
 poor, dear Mr. Barnaby, you would wonder to see me make 
 such a fuss as this about receiving a visit from my own 
 nearest relations. But a lodging-house is but a lodging- 
 house after all : and I need not tell you that General Hubert 
 is a high and mighty sort of personage, for that you can see at 
 a glance." 
 
 Nothing could more clearly show the elevated state of Mrsj 
 O'Donagough's spirits than this allusion to her long-forgotten 
 park at Silverton. The name of that beloved domain had never 
 passed her hps from the hour she had dwelt upon its beauties to 
 Major Allen, during the days of their CUfton loves, to the pre- 
 sent. The Miss Perkinses, however, " caught it ere it fell to the 
 ground," and it added much to the soUdity of Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough's greatness in their estimation. 
 
 Having settled with their female friends all they were to do 
 for her, lugged about the tables and chairs a httle, in order to 
 rehearse the arrangements for Wednesday, and given Patty a 
 hint as to the danger of straining her eyes by a too incessant 
 use of the darling telescope, Mrs. O'Donagough bustled up 
 stairs again, and approaching her husband with a coaxing, but 
 not doubting demeanour, told him that she had settled every- 
 thing with the dear Perkinses about having their room, and all 
 other things they were to aid her in, and that she was come now 
 for his shaxe of the job. 
 
 " And what's that to be ? " he demanded, instinctively 
 putting his hand upon the pocket where his money was 
 deposited. 
 
 " Yes, Donny,'' said the lady, laughing, " that's it ; at least 
 that's one part of what I want. I will take care, my dear, that 
 everything shall be in excellent style, and I will only trouble 
 you for two articles — money and officers. I dare say the 
 general plays a good rubber, — all officers do, you know. But 
 at any rate we must have some red-coats to make us look gay." 
 
 Her husband looked up at her as she spoke with a queer sort 
 of expression that she could by no means understand. How- 
 ever, she was not very anxious for an interpretation of it, when 
 he said, " And how much money do you want, my dear? " She 
 made her demand, which was comphed with instantly, without 
 an observation ; a style of doing business so novel and agree- 
 able, that she immediately left the room in a most enviable state 
 
 K 2 
 
164 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 of spirits, to set off on a shopping expedition, without waiting 
 for his answer to her second demand. 
 
 It was not, therefore, till the very day of the party had 
 arrived, that she received a bit of information from her husband, 
 which greatly lessened her anticipations of gaiety for the 
 evening. 
 
 While enjoying a plate of her favourite prawns for breakfast, 
 Mrs. O'Donagough suddenly exclaimed, "By-the-by, Donny, I 
 am by no means sure that Foxoroft and Dartmore and Willis 
 will be over well pleased with having nothing but ice and cakes 
 to eat after their rubber. I suspect that they'll miss their 
 lobster salad and porter, and I'm sure I shall. What d'ye say 
 to having a table laid in the corner of the dining-room, with 
 about half a dozen knives and.forks, for those that Uke some- 
 thing substantial? And then, you know, if the Huberts go 
 tolerably early, which they'll be sure to do, on account of that 
 little creaky thing aunt Betsy, you can bring your old friends 
 up stairs again, for another rubber and a glass of toddy." 
 
 " Have you done breakfast, Patty ? " demanded Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough. 
 
 " All but this one prawn," rephed the young lady, taking a 
 solitary straggler that remained in the dish. 
 
 " Well, then, go and take a look-out with the glass, and see 
 if the French steamer is in sight. 
 
 This errand was of a nature to insure obedience, and Patty 
 was out of the room in a moment. 
 
 " I say! Mrs. O'Donagough, I have got a word or two for 
 your private ear, so sit stiU a minute, if you please," said the 
 husband. 
 
 " Mercy on me ! what's the matter? " rephed the wife, some- 
 what startled both by the words and manner. 
 
 " Nothing at all is the matter, unless you make a fool of 
 yourself ; and I think you know better than that." 
 
 " I think so too," rejoined the lady, with rather a heightened 
 colour ; " but I wish you'd speak out." 
 
 " Don't be afraid, I'll speak out fast enough. You told me 
 the other day that I was to get officers for your party to-night, 
 and then you flew off in such a fuss, that I had no time to say 
 anything in answer. But it's time to tell you now, that you 
 can have no officers to-night, except the high and mighty 
 Lieutenant-General Hubert, Colonel of the * * * regiment 
 of Dragoons." 
 
 " And why not, I should hke to know? Good gracious, 
 O'Donagough ! how very dull it will be ! " 
 
 " It had better be dull than dangerous, Mrs. O'Donagough." 
 
 "Dangerous!" reiterated his wife. "What on earth do 
 you mean?" 
 
SELECT COMPANT. 165 
 
 " I mean, my dear, that if I hope to do any good from the 
 singular bit of luck which has brought me into kindred and 
 acquaintance with Lieutenant-General Hubert, I must not 
 invite Messrs. Foxcroft, Dartmore, and Willis, to meet him." 
 
 " Lord, Donny ! Do you suppose he is such a fool as to 
 expect people will never ask anybody but generals to drink tea 
 with him?" 
 
 " Not exactly that, Mrs. O'Donagough. But he is a sort 
 of man that one never invites to meet — sporting gentlemen, 
 who live by their wits." 
 
 " I am sure it is a shame, then, that you should invite such 
 people here at all. How do you know that some of 'em may 
 not faU in love with Patty, some day, and a pretty match that 
 would make, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 " I must be doing business, Mrs. O'Donagough, let me be 
 where I will ; and you ought to know that, I should think, by 
 this time. I'll take care that none, exactly ot that sort, shall 
 marry Patty, let them fall as much in love with her as they 
 win ; and remember now, and always, if you please, that your 
 business is not to ask questions about my company. I shall 
 never give lobster salads to anybody that I can't make pay for 
 them, neither shall I ever spoil a great game by mixing it up 
 with a little one. People starting with less advantage than I 
 do now, have managed to line their own purses, and get a peer 
 for a daughter into the bargain. I see no reason why I may 
 not do the same. But it won't come by inviting size-ace to- 
 gether to a tea party." 
 
 " It is a monstrous bore," said Mrs. O'Donagough, "but I 
 suppose you know best." 
 
 " Probably, my dear," replied her spouse. " Make yourself 
 and your girl, and your room, as fine as you will ; and have 
 your Miss Perkinses to help, if you like it. No great harm can 
 come of that. They are not handsome enough to have any 
 danger in them. But for my playfellows, let me keep them in 
 the background when I think fit, and make no remarks upon it. 
 Do as I would have you, and when you get to London you shall 
 be rewarded for it." 
 
 Though Mr. Allen O'Donagough did know hest, his lady was 
 not so ignorant as to be very greatly astonished at what she had 
 heard ; and being, as all the world allowed, a very sensible 
 woman, she made the best of it — hinting to the Miss Perkinses, 
 with a judicious touch of mystery, that General Hubert was 
 known, by those who were nearly connected and intimate with 
 him, to have a miiltitude of whims, one of which was, that he 
 had a great dislike to associate with any but field-officers. Patty 
 stormed at hearing this, and declared that she wished all the 
 Huberts, man, woman, and child, were at the bottom of the 
 
166 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 sea ; but the Miss Perkinses knew better than to talk such non- 
 sense, and even Miss Matilda felt capable of valuing the dignity 
 of the association, though she was not insensible to the priva- 
 tions it brought with it. 
 
 General Hubert's family, meanwhile, were not unmindful of 
 the threatened festivity, though not quite so much occupied 
 thereby as the hospitable projectors of it. The general himself 
 was a little chafedat finding that he was manoeuvred into a scrape. 
 But he managed extremely well to keep this feehng hid. His 
 sweet wife suffered herself to be led, satisfied that she could not 
 go very wrong if led by him. And Mrs. Compton quietly 
 enjoyed the conviction that she should soon bring General Hubert 
 to confess there was more wisdom in keeping clear of a Mrs. 
 Barnaby, than in braving her approach, and trusting to dignity 
 and skiiful tactics to render her harmless. 
 
 That she was in a fair way to achieve this desirable end 
 there was no doubt, and it might have been as well if the 
 venerable plotter had rested satisfied with what she had already 
 done to insure it. But she had no intention of letting the 
 gentleman ofl:' so easily. She had not forgotten the many 
 quizzings she had brought upon herself during the last dozen 
 years by warning him, that half the globe did not afford 
 distance sufficient to render intercourse and communion with a 
 Barnaby safe. She remembered his jestings, gentle though 
 they were, upon the circulating library as a source of know- 
 ledge respecting the conduct of human hfe ; and the result of 
 all these reminiscences was a determination to push a little 
 further the system she had so ably begun. Some excuse for the 
 old lady's persevering mystifications may be found, perhaps, in 
 the skill and pertinacity by which he, for whose especial ad- 
 vantage they were set in action, concealed their effect upon 
 him. 
 
 " Do all the dear children go with us to-night? " said the 
 old lady, looking round upon the assembled family on the 
 morning of the eventful Wednesday. 
 
 " Not any of them, I believe," replied Agnes, quietly. 
 
 " Surely, you do not mean that, my dear ? Is the general 
 growing cautious already? Is it he who objects to the young 
 people's being introduced to their cousin ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ! " said General Hubert, turning over the mighty 
 pages of the " Times " newspaper with a little fracas. " No, 
 indeed, Mrs. Compton, I have not interfered on the important 
 subject." 
 
 " Enuly has not made her appearance at any evening parties 
 as yet," said Mrs.'Hubert, smiling. 
 
 " But Elizabeth is just the same age as her comin," observed 
 the old lady, with an innocent air of pleading for indulgence. 
 
THE LONGED-FOR MOMENT. 167 
 
 " I do hope you will let her go ; unless, indeed, General Hubert 
 sees any objection to it." 
 
 The general turned over another page of his noisy news- 
 paper, but said nothing. 
 
 " Elizabeth may go if she hkes it,'' replied Agnes. 
 
 " I would rather not go, mamma, if you please,'' said the 
 young lady, shghtly colouring. 
 
 "Why not, my dear?" inquired Mrs. Compton, holding 
 outlier hand to invite the recusant to her side. 
 
 Elizabeth went to her readily, and quite unconscious of the 
 imderplot that was going on, said very frankly, — 
 
 " Don't advise mamma to take me, aunt Compton, because 
 I had a great deal rather stay at home with Emily." 
 
 The old lady kissed her cordially, and said, " You will feel 
 a little shy with your cousin at first, my dear, I dare say ; 
 perhaps, indeed, it will take some time before you are thoroughly 
 used to her. However, as you will have so many nice oppor- 
 tunities when you are all hving together in London, I dare 
 say your mamma and papa will let you remain with your sister 
 this evening. We must have Compton with us, however. I 
 hope he does not intend to forsake the old aunt who eloped 
 with him ? " 
 
 " I win go with you all the world over, aunt Betsy ! " rephed 
 the youth, gaily. " Besides, I am exceedingly anxious to see 
 my new cousin." 
 
 At about half-past eight o'clock in the evening. General and 
 Mrs. Hubert, their son, and venerable great-aunt drove to the 
 residence of Mr. and Mrs. O'Donagough on the East Cliff. 
 The moment in which their carriage stopped at the door was a 
 happy one for the five persons assembled in the drawing-room ; 
 for during the last hour, a constantly increasing fever of ex- 
 pectation had been tormenting them all. 
 
 " Well, now, I hope you will be contented, mamma ? " cried 
 Patty, from her station at the window. " One, two, three, four 
 of 'em. There's no Miss Elizabeth though, but such a beautiful, 
 tall young man. I do believe it is the Lord William I told you 
 of, Matilda, only he is out of regimentals. It is good-natured 
 of them to bring him, at any rate ; and now," she added, in the 
 whisper which so often marked their mutual affection and con- 
 fidence, " now I shan't care three straws about Eoxcroft and 
 Willis— shaU you ? " 
 
 Ere the question could be fuUy answered, the " nice respect- 
 able waiter," threw wide the drawing-room door, and announced 
 the guests. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough stood within six feet of it, radiant in 
 crimson satin and blonde ; and, as usual, ready to envelop her 
 " darhng Agues " in an embrace, overflowing with lappets and 
 
168 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 love. Behind her, in single file, were stationed — first, her 
 daughter, in a transparent dress of rose colour over shining 
 white calico ; her profuse black ringlets dropping from all parts 
 of her head, her large eyes flashing their eager rays through the 
 doorway to hght upon the expected lord, and her bright com- 
 plexion very unnecessarily heightened in its glowing splendour 
 by a slight touch of her mamma's rouge. Next appeared Miss 
 Matilda Perkins, a very model for careful dressers. Not a pin 
 but did its duty well ; not a plait nor a pucker but fulfilled the 
 wearer's will, — ^not a hair that produced not the effect of two. 
 The more retiring elder sister was modestly sheltered behind her, 
 conscious, perhaps, that the bracing energies of hope having 
 failed her, the patience necessary for an effective past forty 
 toilet, had failed her too, and that she was not sufficiently 
 fait a peindre to appear in the foreground. Beliind Miss 
 Perkins, senior, stood Mr. AUen O'Donagough, sleek and sober 
 in new broad-cloth, and a weU-trimmed wig. 
 
 Mrs. Compton and her niece Agnes entered arm-in-arm, 
 an arrangement which seemed to puzzle Mrs. O'Donagough, for 
 she could not conveniently embrace them both together ; and 
 being particularly desirous that the Misses Perldns should see 
 the elegant Mrs. General Hubert enfolded in her arms, she 
 stood for half an instant, uncertain how to proceed. But a 
 movement of Mr. O'Donagough favomed her purpose ; for feel- 
 ing himself rather too much thrown into the background by the 
 two file of Perkinses, he made an active movement forward, and 
 bowing profoundly, ventured to protrude a welcoming hand 
 towards the ladies ; whereupon, Mrs. Compton withdrew her 
 arm from that of Agnes, and suddenly dropped into a chair, as 
 if too much fatigued to stand longer ; being prepared, as it 
 should seem, to go aU lengths for the promotion of her project, 
 short of actually touching her Australian relatives. 
 
 The moment Mrs. Hubert stood alone, Mrs. O'Donagough 
 pushed aside her husband's extended hand without ceremony, 
 and with a movement much too sudden to be either foreseen or 
 resisted, once more inclosed her in a fond embrace, which lasted 
 so long, as to make Miss Perkins exclaim in a whisper to Mr. 
 O'Donagough, " Dear me ! What a pleasure it is to witness 
 such affection ! Your lady perfectly dotes upon her niece, and, 
 I'm sure, no wonder ! " 
 
 Released at last, Mrs. Hubert moved on, shaking hands with 
 Patty, and bowing to her father. But there was stiU much 
 bustling ceremony to go through ; the two Miss Perkinses were 
 to be introduced, and General Hubert respectfully, affection- 
 ately, and gracefuUy welcomed. This was all admirably accom- 
 plished by Mrs. O'Donagough ; a low courtesy, a smihng 
 pressure of the hand, and a sort of swinging bow, by which, she 
 
EMBARRASSMENT. 169 
 
 indicated to him an arm-chair at the upper end of the room as 
 his place, completed the tripartite operation. But when she 
 found herseK face to face with the young Compton, she was 
 puzzled. Who, or what he was, she could by no means con- 
 jecture ; his remarkable height and manly appearance naturally 
 enough prevented her from guessing that he was the son of 
 Agnes ; so having smiled upon him very graciously, and then 
 recollecting who brought him there, turned round again and 
 made him a courtesy, she set about insisting upon it that Mrs. 
 Compton should change her place from the chair to the sofa ; 
 but the active old lady soon cut short her energetic pleadings 
 by so rapidly mating the movement sha suggested, as to 
 leave her suspended ba. the very middle of her "Indeed and 
 indeed — " 
 
 It can hardly be denied, I believe, that, when a party of 
 ladies and gentlemen are in a position from any cause embar- 
 rassing, the gentlemen are more awkward than the ladies in their 
 manner of enduring it. Mrs. Hubert ceased to feel embarrassee 
 de sa personne as soon as she had released it from the encircling 
 arms of her aunt. Mrs. Compton, from the moment she had 
 seated herself, began to enjoy the whole scene. Patty could be 
 at no loss where or how to look from the moment Compton 
 Hubert entered the room ; the Miss Perkinses, each in her own 
 way, were looking just as they ought to do; and Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough was much too fuUy occupied in the expression of her 
 family feelings to be conscious of any awkwardness at all. But 
 General Hubert held his hat in his hand less gracefully, perhaps, 
 than he had ever held it before ; and Mr. O'Donagough would 
 wUliiigly have compounded for misdealing three times at his 
 next batch of whist, could he have obtained thereby the power 
 of addressing three sentences to the general with a tolerable 
 appearance of ease. 
 
 The first decisive change in this state of things was produced 
 by Mrs. Compton's saying, in her gay, clear voice, " Pray, Mrs. 
 Hubert, have you remembered to introduce your son Compton 
 to your aunt Barnaby? — I beg pardon, I mean O'Donagough." 
 The old lady probably expected to produce some picturesque 
 effects by thus throwing a new hght upon the circle ; but it is 
 probable that the result was even greater than she anticipated. 
 No sooner did Mrs. O'Donagough catch her words than starting 
 from her seat, her hands clasped, her head thrown forward, and 
 her eager eyes advancing farther ^still, she rushed towards the 
 startled young man, and, laying her hands heavily on his head 
 as if to bestow her blessing, began parting and pushing back 
 his clustering curls in order to enable her, as she said, to examine 
 the features so naturally and so inexpressibly dear to her heart. 
 As she thus held the youth imprisoned, gazing the while into 
 
170 THE WIDOW MARniED. 
 
 his forcibly up-turned face, she discovered that he 'was strikingly 
 like every member she had ever known of his mother's maternal 
 ancestors ; and, as she named them all in succession, she im- 
 pressed a fervent kiss upon his brow in honour of each indi- 
 vidual of the catalogue. The young man became exceedingly 
 red, and when at length released, the manner in which he shook 
 his handsome head and set himself to rights again had some- 
 thing so irresistibly ludicrous in it, that even the vexed general 
 indulged in a smile, and liis mother laughed outright. 
 
 " Glorious creature ! " exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough, as 
 Boon as she had recovered her breath. " Good heaven, what a 
 face ! Patty, con* to me, my child. This is the first male 
 descendant of riiy beloved father that I have ever seen. Dear, 
 blessed spirit ! how his heart would have rejoiced to look upon 
 him ! Give your hand to your young cousin Compton. I re- 
 joice that his name is Compton — ^my own dear maiden name ! 
 Take her hand, Compton, and remember that your great-grand- 
 father and her grandfather were the same." 
 
 Compton Hubert was, perhaps, as saucy a student of fifteen 
 as Sandhurst ever sent forth, a peculiarity of temperament 
 considerably increased by the unlimited indulgence of his aunt 
 Betsy, the principal object of whose life had been, from the 
 hour that he first gave indications of having a will of his own, 
 to indulge that will in every possible way. She was, unluckily, 
 but too able to perform this by the pertinacity with which 
 General Hubert had resisted all her efforts to endow Agnes 
 with her wealth during her own life ; after long battUng, this 
 point had been settled according to his will, leaving her at 
 liberty to spoil his second son, who, before his birth, was 
 promised to her as her heir to her heart's content. Some 
 counteracting influence was, of course, found in the good sense 
 of his parents when he was with them ; and that he was. in truth 
 a fine, frank-hearted, generous fellow, can no more be denied 
 than that he was effronte as a page, when occasion permitted. 
 
 It so happened, that exactly at the moment when Mrs. 
 O'Donagough was so pathetically entreating him to take his 
 buxom cousin by the hand, the lad caught his aunt Compton's 
 keen twinkling black eye fixed upon him. It would not be 
 easy to say what it was he read there which encouraged the 
 perpetration of such audacity, but certain it is, that, instead of 
 taking the young lady's hand as requested, he suddenly threw 
 his arms round her neck and kissed her vehemently. 
 
 Mrs. Compton drew out her pocket-handkerchief, and its 
 close application to her face prevented the possibility of ascer- 
 taining whether she laughed or frowned. Mrs. Hubert looked 
 as grave as she could ; the general exclaimed, almost uncon- 
 eciously, " Compton 1 " Mr. O'Donagough grinned ; Mrs. 
 
"^ec^yTf-a^ /yTz^iyzy^i^e^^i/ ^%i^-4s#^^ .yfc'''^/' 'l/'vy7^<zrp>//^ 
 
AN ENVIABLE POSITION. 171 
 
 O'Donagough looked on -with undisguised rapture, crossing her 
 arms upon her own bosom, with a sort of tender pressure that 
 seemed to indicate that in her heart she embraced them both. 
 The Miss Perkinses looked, turned away their heads, and looked 
 again ; while Patty herself glowed, and pouted, and pushed, and 
 laughed, and finally, when the young gentleman withdrew his 
 arms, gave him a look which any spinsters, less devotedly 
 attached to her than the Miss Perkinses, might have interpreted 
 into a challenge to repeat the attack at the first favourable 
 opportunity. 
 
 This little interlude produced an excellent effect on the 
 spirits of most of the party ; the general and his lady, indeed, 
 might have felt inclined, had the thing been possible, to remove 
 themselves and their son elsewhere ; but the old lady was 
 decidedly pleased by the adventure, nothing doubting that such 
 and such-hke occurences would speedily bring General Hubert 
 to the state of oontrition in which she was determined to see 
 him. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough immediately felt herself not only the 
 great-aunt in esse, but the mother-in-law in posse, of the young 
 gentleman ; while her calculating husband could not but see 
 very substantial hopes of familiar companionship from such a 
 beginning. The Miss Perkinses naturally felt themselves more 
 at their ease in a httle party so affectionately intimate together, 
 and Patty snapped her fingers in her heart at all the Lord 
 WiUiams in the garrison ; though, at the same time, her faithful 
 lover Jack caused her secretly to breathe a reservation in his 
 favour, which, if interpreted, would have shown that she still 
 intended to marry him, if he asked her. 
 
 " Ring the bell, Mr. O'D., wiU you ? and let us have some 
 tea and cofifee. These hot evenings make one long for one's tea 
 always, don't they Matilda ? " said Mrs. O'Donagough, giving 
 the young lady she addressed a sidelong look of triumph and 
 dehght, as she passed before her to resume her station near the 
 sofa on which the old lady and Agnes were sitting. 
 
 The respectable waiter soon made his appearance, and 
 laboured round and round the room, with coffee, tea, cakes, and 
 bread and butter, without intermission, for the space of one 
 hour; the conversation, meanwhile, being carried on chiefly 
 between Mrs. O'Donagough and Mrs. Hubert, and consisting 
 almost entirely of questions and answers concerning Mr. Wil- 
 loughby's state of health, habits, residence, and pursuits — the 
 number, fatness, leanness, shortness, and taUness, of Mr. Frederic 
 Stephenson's children, and of the constant longing, from which 
 Mrs. O'Donagough had suffered during the whole of her resi- 
 dence abroad, to know all particulars respecting every relation 
 and connection which Mrs. Hubert had upon earth, who must 
 
172 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 ever be, as she declared, more interesting to her than all the rest 
 of the world beside. 
 
 By the time the persevering waiter had completed the last 
 round of cake and bread and buttsr which he considered neces- 
 sary, the recently smuggled French clock on the chimney-piece, 
 being in excellent repair, audibly pronounced ten warnings of 
 the progressive, though not always rapid, march of time. Seve- 
 ral of the party counted the strokes, and Mrs. Hubert was one 
 of them. 
 
 " I think the carriage must be here, general," said she, 
 looking expressively at her. husband; "we are always early," 
 she added, turning to Mrs. O'Donagough, "when my aunt 
 Compton is with us." 
 
 " Good gracious, my dear Agnes ! " she replied, in consider- 
 able agitation ; " you won't be so cruel as to think of going yet? 
 You will positively break oijr hearts if you go away without ice, 
 or oranges, or anything. Ring the bell Mr. O'D., if you 
 please." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough did so, sharply. The respectable waiter 
 had not yet reached the bottom of the stairs, so the summons 
 was answered with as Httle delay as his weariness would permit. 
 
 " Let the dining-parlour be ready for us directly. Potts," 
 said Mrs. O'Donagough, very impressively; and then rising 
 from her chair, she made her way by a brisk movement to the 
 door, in time to reach him as he was passing through it, and 
 whispered in his ear, audibly only to himself and Compton 
 Hubert, who was carrying on a muttered tittering conversation 
 with Patty, near it, " Don't forget to light the wax candles by 
 the mirror, and let us know the minute it is all ready." 
 
 The interval which intervened before this announcement was 
 made, certainly appeared a very long one, but it came at last ; 
 upon which, Mr. O'Donageugh, according to previous orders, 
 often reiterated, approached the sofa, and " louting low," 
 offered his arm to Mrs. Elizabeth Compton. 
 
 " You are very obliging, sir," said the old lady, briskly; 
 " but General Hubert is always kind enough to take care of 
 me." 
 
 Thus called upon, the general drew near, and took the mis- 
 chievous old woman under his protection, supporting her, as 
 usual, very carefully, but certainly feeling a httle provoked with 
 her as the cause of all he had been enduring for the last hun- 
 dred and twenty-three minutes. 
 
 Thus rebuffed, Mr. Allen O'Donagough next proffered hia 
 attentions to Mrs. Hubert, who accepted them, unconscious that 
 she took the same arm from which she had shrunk with so 
 much terror some few years before at Clifton — ^the gentleman, 
 however, remembered it, and laughed inwardly ; well-pleased at 
 
EEFRESHMENTS. 173 
 
 the hocus-pocus sort of change his skill and fortune had jointly- 
 brought about. Then came the mistress of the /eie, the gentle 
 Miss Perkinses following after, not sorry, certainly (though 
 deeply impressed with the honour they had enjoyed), that the 
 period of its duration was drawing to a close, and not unmind- 
 ful that, however long that period had appeared, the time which 
 should follow, through which the ennobhng recollection of it 
 must last, would be the longer still. The procession was closed 
 by Patty and her coiisin Compton, the intimacy between them 
 being greatly increased by the young lady's placing her hand 
 upon the banister for a shde, and exclaiming, 
 
 " Now then ! which will be down first ? " 
 
 On reaching the bottom of the stairs, Mrs. Compton forget- 
 ting, or pretending to forget, that there was anything more to 
 be done, walked briskly on towards the door of the house, at 
 wliich a servant of General Hubert's was stationed ; but Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, on seeing her pass the open door of Miss Per- 
 kins's parloxir, heedless of the radiant light that issued thence, 
 or of the waiter who stood beside the entrance, doing all that 
 man could do, save laying his hands upon her, to give her no- 
 tice that she was to enter there ; on seeing this, Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough pushed past her husband and Mrs. Hubert, and with 
 almost panting agitation implored aunt Betsy and the general, 
 to come into the refreshment-room, and eat some ice. 
 
 The necessity of compliance was so evident, that General 
 Hubert immediately turned round, though the httle hand which 
 rested on his arm was almost withdrawn on his doing so. But, 
 apparently, the old lady recollected herself, and felt aware that 
 she was not performing well the part she had undertaken ; for 
 on entering the parlour, she immediately seated herself at the 
 table, accepted everything that was offered to her, placing one 
 thing aside, as soon as another came, and thus, though tasting 
 nothing, setting an example of great activity. The eldest Miss 
 Perkins ventured to seat herself beside her, obligiugly offering 
 her services to procure whatever she might wish to take, wliich 
 Mrs. Compton replied to, by saying, " You are very kind, 
 ma'am ;" but when the worthy Louisa perceived that ice, 
 orange, custard, and cake, were successively accepted, and suc- 
 cessively placed aside, she could resist no longer, and gently 
 ejaculated, 
 
 "Dear me, ma'am, everything is so nice, yet you eat 
 nothing ! " 
 
 " I never taste anything after a six o'clock dinner, ma'am, 
 excepting a glass of cold water," replied the old lady, very 
 civilly, but still continuing to extend her hand to everytliing 
 that was oflfered to her. This appearance of occupation on her 
 part certainly kept the party together considerably longer than 
 
174 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 ■would have been the case without it ; but at length she turned 
 herself completely round to General Hubert, who stood behind 
 her, and said, in her gayest, clearest accents, " Now then, 
 general, I think we may go." 
 
 This proposition now appeared too reasonable for any further 
 opposition ; Mrs. Hubert had taken an ice, Compton had fed 
 his cousin JPatty with two, the general had swallowed a mouth- 
 ful of execrable wine with his host, and the old lady had 
 evidently done all she intended to do. Shawls, therefore, were 
 sought and found, hands were shaken, " Coming out," was pro- 
 nounced by Mrs. Hubert's footman from the door, and the party 
 drove off. 
 
 The only words uttered among them en route were, " I fear 
 yoii must be very tired, my dear aunt," from Mrs. Hubert ; and, 
 " Not the least in the world ; quite the contrary," in reply, 
 from Mrs. Compton. 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 Whatever might have been the degree of enjoyment produced 
 by Mrs. O'Donagough's party, whilst the whole company re- 
 mained together, it certainly ended in unmixed satisfaction to 
 those who remained after General Hubert's carriage drove off. 
 Mr. O'Donagough's feeling of enjoyment probably arose in a 
 considerable degree from knowing that the thing was over. 
 The Miss Perkinses, cordially pressed to fall upon the ices 
 (which no degree of skill could preserve), not only luxuriated 
 in their dulcet coolness, but in all the pride of having passed the 
 evening in such society, and all the rehef produced by its having 
 departed. But the happiness of Mrs. O'Donagough and Patty 
 was of a more substantial kind ; they, indeed, also eat ice, and 
 were not insensible to the delight of pulling off their gloves, 
 and " feeling easy," as they all designated their present state of 
 enjoyment ; but beyond this, both mother and daughter con- 
 templated results the most lasting and important from the events 
 of the evening. Mrs. O'Donagough determined to be very 
 cautious and diplomatic, and to " say nothing to nobody ;" but 
 she also determined that her own daughter should come to as 
 great honour as the daughter of her sister, and marry a Hubert 
 . — unless she could do something better. 
 
 Patty, who looked perfectly intoxicated with dehght, as she 
 meditated on all that passed between herself and her cousin, 
 tame exactly to the same conclusion ; the only difference being, 
 that her reservation was in favour of Jack, while that of her 
 mamma had reference to any lords who might chance to fall in 
 her way. 
 
AN IMPORTANT AKRIVAI,. 175 
 
 The Hubert party said very little to each other about the 
 visit, in any way. Perhaps Mrs. Compton would have thought 
 she had done enough to punish her dearly -beloved general for 
 all the pertinacy he had shown in making light of her prophe- 
 cies, had he but uttered one single word indicative of dislike to 
 the O'Donagough race in general, or to any individual among 
 them in particular. But he said not that word. Agnes feared 
 to lead to the subject, lest the species of covert warfare, which 
 she perceived to be still going on between her husband and her 
 aunt, might be excited thereby ; and as for Compton, feeling 
 conscious that he had been superabundantly impertinent, he 
 secretly rejoiced that the adventures of the evening seemed to 
 lie under an interdict which rendered all allusion to them im- 
 possible. His sister EUzabeth, indeed, found an opportunity to 
 ask, when they were alone together, what he thought of their 
 Australian cousin, and he replied by giving her just such a de- 
 scription of the evening as might have been expected from so 
 saucy a personage. 
 
 Several excursions on sea and land immediately followed, 
 during which the O'Donagoughs were, in truth, very nearly 
 forgotten. 
 
 It was exactly one week after Mrs. O'Donagough's party, at 
 half-past five o'clock in the afternoon, that Mr. and Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, Miss Patty, the two Miss Perkinses, and Lieu- 
 tenant Dartmoor, being all seated very comfortably at dinner in 
 the drawing-room, were startled, and, as it were, dragged in- 
 voluntarily from the table to the windows, by the most 
 tremendous clatter upon the pavement that it was well possible 
 for horses and carriages to make. 
 
 " Who in the world are these ? " cried Miss Matilda to Lieu- 
 tenant Dartmoor, beside whom she was so lucky as to be placed. 
 " Three carriages and four, and two outriders ; mercy, what a 
 dust ! Liveries green and gold — well ! I should hke to know 
 who they are ! " 
 
 " Stop a moment ! I think I can tell you," replied the 
 Lieutenant, protruding his person, almost at the risk of his life, 
 through the open window, in order to obtain the information 
 required. "Yes, I thought so; I remember the arms because 
 of the crest — ^Tfc's the Stephensons — they are first-rate dashers, 
 I promise you. We had them here last autumn, and they made 
 the whole place ahve." 
 
 " Stephensons ! what Stephensons ? " demanded Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, in a tone of authority. "Tell me, Captain 
 Dartmore, aU you know about them, I entreat you. I have an 
 interest in that name which nobody else in company can have 
 —except, indeed, my own daughter. Do you mean Frederic 
 Stephenson, brother of Sir Edward ? " 
 
176 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am ; those are his carriages, I give you my word. 
 Everybody knew the set-out last year ; there was never a day 
 that they were not making parties or pic-nics, or something or 
 other. Several of our officers were always invited when they 
 had dancing. Their arrival will make a sensation through the 
 whole town." 
 
 " Gracious heaven ! was ever anything so fortunate ! Now, 
 Mr. O'Donagough, I shall have the pleasure of introducing you 
 to some more of my connections.. You must remember Frederic 
 Stephenson at Clifton — that is, I mean, you must remember my 
 often talking about knowing him there." 
 
 " Perfectly," replied Mr. O'Donagough, gravely, re-seating 
 himself at the table ; " and no wonder you should have often 
 mentioned him as a gay personage, if that is the style he usually 
 travels in." 
 
 " He is a man of immense fortune, and such a dear creature ! " 
 said Mrs. O'Donagough, addressing Miss Perkins, and smiling 
 as with a sort of tender recollection of past days. 
 
 " He is an old acquaintance, then ? " said Miss Matilda, with 
 nervous eagerness. 
 
 " Old acquaintance ? Bless you, my dear, he is one of the 
 nearest relations I have — by marriage." 
 
 " And coming here unexpectedly in this way ! Well to be 
 sure, you are fortunate, Mrs. O'Donagough. Are you not 
 delighted, Patty ? " 
 
 " No, not I," replied the young lady. " I don't see the good 
 of having relations, if one never sees 'em. I'm sure the Huberts 
 might as well be at Jericho as at Brighton, for anything we see 
 of 'em." 
 
 " How can you talk such nonsense, Patty,'' said her vexed 
 mother, " when you know that we have called there three times 
 since the delightful evening they spent here, and have always 
 heard where they were gone. They have always been driving 
 into the country somewhere or other, to amuse my aunt Comp- 
 ton, I suppose, and people can't be in two places at once, let 
 them wish it ever so much." 
 
 " That's true, I'm sure, if ever anything was," observed Miss 
 Perkins, with energy. " The very nearest relations in the world 
 can't always be as much together as they wish. And after what 
 we saw the other night, my dear Miss Patty, you can't persuade 
 us but what there's one of the party that wouldn't be very far 
 from East Cliff, if he had his own way." 
 
 " Come, come, Louisa Perkins ! No tales out of school, if 
 you please. Let me give you a little more Irish stew, to stop 
 that mouth of yours," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, laughing 
 " Never mind her, Patty. Don't blush about it, cousins will be 
 cousins aU the world over." 
 
EXCLUSIVE PEOPLE. 177 
 
 " It is all very ■well to talk of drives into the country," said 
 the judicious Matilda, taking her cue from Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 evident delight in the subject ; " it is all very possible. Neverthe- 
 less, people often throw dust without blinding the lookers-on. 
 I saw what I saw, and I know what I know. The general 
 didn't marry so very young himself, remember — and I suspect 
 his opinion is, that young folks ought not to be too much in a 
 hurry." 
 
 " There may be something in that, Matilda," replied Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, nodding her head sagaciously. " We must not 
 talk anything about it yet. Captain Dartmoor, remember that 
 this is all among friends, and must go no further." 
 
 " Did Stephenson play when he was here ? " inquired Mr. 
 Alien O'Donagough, addressing his military friend. 
 
 " Oh yes, I believe so ! " was the reply. " He did everything 
 — ^rode races, gave balls, bespoke plays, got up rafiles. There 
 was something or other going on the whole time they stayed — 
 and if you inquired, let it be what it might, you were sure to 
 find that the Stephensons were at the bottom of it." 
 
 " What delightful people ! " exclaimed Miss Matilda. 
 
 "Why yes," replied the heutenant, looking towards Mrs. 
 O'Donagough ; " it would be a good set to get into, certainly." 
 
 " But the worst of it is," said Mrs. O'Donagough, with more 
 dignity and reserve of manner than was usual with her ; " the 
 worst of it is, that these sort of people are so very exclusive. 
 Near relations, of course, are excepted, but Frederic Stephenson, 
 dear good-natured fellow as he was, and always particularly kind 
 and flattering to me, even before he married my niece's half- 
 sister, even he was always rather famous for giving himself airs." 
 
 A gentle sigh heaved the bosom of Matilda. Miss Louisa 
 looked very grave, and shook her head, and the heutenant seized 
 the decanter of Mazooka, or Mortola, or Pontac, or Bondac, or 
 whatever the mixture might be called which stood near Mm, 
 and swallowed a glassful of it. 
 
 The result of a certain consultation held that night between 
 Mr. and Mrs. AUen O'Donagough on the subject of this impor- 
 tant arrival was that another call at General Hubert's hoiise 
 must be made on the following day, where, if they were not 
 admitted, they might at least obtain intelligence as to the truth 
 of Lieutenant Dartmoor's information. 
 
 The O'Donagough trio set off, accordingly, at a proper visiting 
 hour on the following morning, dressed, one and all, with more 
 than usual care, and determined that, if it were possible to avoid 
 it, their trouble should not be in vain. 
 
 " Is Mrs. Hubert at home?" was the first question at the 
 general's door. The servant hesitated, and Mrs. O'Donagough 
 instantly made a movement in advance. 
 
 L 
 
178 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " I particularly wish to see my niece, if it be only for half a 
 moment," said she. 
 
 " My mistress is just going out, ma'am," i-eplied the man, 
 standing rather pertinaciously in the doorway. 
 
 " It is only for one moment, and upon family business of 
 importance," said Mrs. O'Douagough, maldng another step in 
 advance, before which the man retired of necessity, but without 
 • quitting the handle of the door. 
 
 " Perhaps, ma'am, you would be pleased to leave word that 
 you would call again," said the servant. 
 
 " What do you say, Mr. O'D. ? Suppose we do, and fix 
 the time exactly, and then we shall be sure of seeing her." 
 
 " Do just as you please, ray dear," replied Mr. Aljen 
 O'Donagough. " It wiU make no difference to me. Only," he 
 added, in a whisper, "you may as well ask about the 
 Stephensons." 
 
 " Then we will call again — exactly at five o'clock to-day. 
 Please not to forget the message, James — I think your name is 
 James? I am pretty sure I heard my niece caU you James." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, my name is James." 
 
 " Well then, James, I must insist upon it that my message 
 is delivered exactly. A message from yovir mistress's own aunt, 
 you know, ought not to be neglected. Give Agnes — ^give your 
 mistress, I mean— my most affectionate. love, and Miss O'Dona- 
 gough's love, and Mr. O'Donagough's compliments, and say that 
 we shall call again precisely at five o'clock." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said the man, advancing a step in his turn, 
 and bringing the door with him. 
 
 " Stop one moment, if you please," said Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 laying her palm firmly on the outward side of the door. " Can 
 you teU me, James, if the Stephensons arrived yesterday? 
 Frederic Stephenson, I mean, who married your mistress's sister, 
 you know." 
 
 The man looked rather surprised, either at the question or 
 the manner of it, but answered, " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " And where are they ? Of course they can't all be here — 
 three carriages — servants outside, and all? 
 
 " No, ma'am, they went directly to their own lodgings." 
 
 " Then please to give me their address directly." 
 
 " Mr. Stephenson has taken House, ma'am, the same 
 
 he had last year." 
 
 " House. Whereabouts is it? Do you know 
 
 House, Mr. O'D. ? " 
 
 Mr. O'D. did not, but the servant gave the full address, and 
 at length succeeded in shutting the house-door. 
 
 " Now, then, let us go there directly," cried Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough. " It is no good beating about the bush. Let us take 
 
MORE RICH RELATIONS. 179 
 
 our chance at once. If they choose to be civil, why so mucli 
 the better, and if not, why we can't help it, and the sooner we 
 know it, the better." 
 
 To this reasoning Mr. O'Donagotigh made no objection; and 
 after toiUng a considerable distance through unmitigated sun- 
 shine, somewhat to the injury of his lady's rouge, and not much 
 to the advantage of his daughter's temper, they at length 
 reached the handsome mansion to which they had been directed. 
 Mr. O'Donagough stoutly pulled the bell, more stoutly than 
 the weU-hung instriunent required; and the tintamarre thus 
 produced occasioned an instantaneous throwing wide of the 
 folding-doors, disclosing to the dazzled visitors a handsome hall, 
 which at the first glance seemed half-filled with hvery servants. 
 The green and gold, recognised by Lieutenant Dartmoor, was 
 indeed there, and in great abundance, but set oif with such 
 richness of plush and profusion of lace and tassels, that the 
 great soul of Mrs. AUen O'Donagough almost felt daunted. TiU 
 that moment die had conceived that the establishment of 
 General Hubert was perfectly splendid, but thenceforward 
 she rarely named the family without observing that nothing 
 could be more unpretending and quiet than their manner of 
 living — ^merely a butler and two footmen, besides the coachman 
 and grooms ; — but always adding, that to be sure nothing could 
 be more striiing than the contrast between the two sisters in 
 their style of doing things — the estabHshment of her brother 
 Willoughby's second daughter being really almost royal in its 
 magnificence. 
 
 An answer in the affirmative being returned to their inquiry 
 if Mrs. Stephenson were at home, their names were received, 
 and passed from mouth to mouth tOl the sound of Mr., Mrs., 
 and Miss O'Donagough, made the lofty staircase ring again. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, with an efi'ort worthy of her powerful 
 mind, immediately recovered her self-possession, and gracefully 
 shaking her plumes, marched up the stairs in imblenched ma- 
 jesty. Mr. O'Donagough followed, looking as demure as a 
 newly-created bishop, while the young lady, with wide-staring 
 eyes, and a countenance indicative of something approaching 
 (Usmay, closed the procession. 
 
 On reaching the drawing-room door, Mrs. O'Donagough 
 paused for a moment tUl her husband and daughter were beside 
 her, and then stepped forward, determined that nothing short 
 of her being turned out of the room should prevent her 
 establishing her claim to connectionship vrith all the grandeirr 
 she beheld. The first room they entered was exactly in the 
 style of decoration most likely to enchant the senses of Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, being of that florid character which is calculated 
 to insure a rent of forty guineas per week at a waterlog place. 
 
 La 
 
180 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 As it was untenanted, she ventured to exchange an expressive 
 glance with her husband : but the man in green and gold 
 stalked on, and another pair of folding-doors being thrown wide 
 open before them, disclosed a room with an immense semicir- 
 cular window opening upon a balcony, which commanded a 
 magnificent view of the sea. 
 
 In this balcony stood two gentlemen, the one arranging a 
 spy-glass on its trellis-work, for the accommodation of the 
 other ; while a third, whom Patty instantly recognised as her 
 cousin Compton, was assisting a little fellow in a fantastic 
 fancy-dress, composed of blue silk and white muslin, to chmb in 
 the most dangerous manner possible to the roof of the frail 
 construction. Close beside the window, on a couch placed per- 
 fectly in the shade, though all without was sunshine, rechned 
 nearly at full length, an extremely delicate-looking little woman, 
 with a profusion of light ringlets about her face. Her robe, of 
 the finest muslin, hned with the prettiest shade of pink, was 
 profusely decorated with lace, her small feet accommodated with 
 quilted satin slippers of the same pale colour, and her slender 
 fingers, sparkhng with gems, employed luxuriously in arranging 
 a bouquet of flowering myrtle, and gorgeous geranium-blossoms. 
 
 This pretty and very picturesque lady raised a glass to her 
 eye as the strangers were announced. Let them have been 
 whom they would, she could hardly have risen, so difficult would 
 her attitude, and the multitude of flowers in her lap, have ren- 
 dered the attempt, had she made it. But this she did not do ; 
 and her eye-glass failing to supply the information which their 
 names did not convey, she turned it from her visitors to the 
 servant who had ushered them to her presence, and pronounced 
 the word, " Who ? " 
 
 This was not promising, any more than the puzzled air with 
 which, after the name had again been distinctly pronounced, she 
 shook her head, and in a soft, and somewhat lisping voice 
 added, " I fear there is some mistake." 
 
 " I cannot be surprised at your not knowing me, my dear 
 Mrs. Stephenson," said Mrs. O'Donagough, pushing away a 
 little work-table, and placing herself close to the sofa, " but I 
 think you must have heard your sister Agnes mention her aunt. 
 — ^Perhaps you may reoal the name of Barnaby ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Barnaby ? Oh dear yes, certainly ! " rephed Mrs. 
 Stephenson, sUghtly colouring, and slightly smiling at the same 
 time. " I have heard of you very often. Is that tall lady your 
 daughter ? Pray sit down. Sit down,- sir," with a wave of the 
 hand to Mr. O'Donagough, which seemed to indicate rather a 
 more distant part of the room for his station. Then turning to 
 a flaxen sylph, of some ten or twelve years old, who was thread- 
 ing beads, she said, 
 
MKS. o'donagough's salutation. 181 
 
 " Go out, Agnes, and tell your papa, and your grandpapa, 
 that Mrs. Barnaby is here." 
 
 "No longer Mrs. Barnaby, my dear madam." Give me 
 luave to introduce Mr. O'Donagough, my husband, and Misa 
 O'Donagough, my daughter." 
 
 " Oh dear yes ; I beg your pardon. I remember all about 
 it now. You went out to India, did you not, as a widow ? I 
 quite remember hearing Mr. Stephenson speak of the widow 
 Barnaby ; and you married in India, I suppose ? " Here Mrs. 
 Stephenson again conveyed her glass very unceremoniously to 
 her eye, and reconnoitred first Mr. O'Donagough, and then his 
 daughter, Mrs. O'Donagough herself being too close to render 
 it necessary ; though, in truth, she was exceedingly near- 
 sighted. " I dare say," she continued, still employing her 
 glass, " that my father will remember all about you directly, 
 and I am quite too happy you have called, I wanted to see you 
 so very much." 
 
 " It is sweetly kind of you, I am sure, to say so," said the 
 delighted Mrs. O'Donagough. " No wonder that I should long 
 to see you ! I shall always consider your dear father as my 
 brother, and one of his children must, of course, be as interest- 
 ing to me as the other. I am quite certain that in a very little 
 while my own dear Agnes, my own sister's child, would hardly 
 be dearer to me than yourself! You are the very image of 
 your dear father ! So Hke what I remember him at Silverton ! " 
 
 The stm youthful-looking face of Mrs. Stephenson was, 
 during nearly the whole of this speech, completely buried in the 
 large bouquet she held in her two hands. Nor did she speak 
 again, tm, in obedience to her summons, Mr. WiUoughby and 
 Mr. Stephenson entered from the balcony. Then, raising to 
 them a pair of laughing eyes, though her manner was perfectly 
 grave and ceremonioiis, she said, 
 
 "Papa, this is Mrs. BarnalDy. The late Mrs. Barnaby, I 
 mean. Frederic, I beUeve you used to know her too. Her 
 name is now Mrs. Donago. She is come to call upon us, with 
 all her family." 
 
 "Is it possible!" exclaimed Mr. WiUoughby, coming with 
 outstretched hands towards his sister-in-law. "Indeed I am 
 very glad to see her. I hope you are well, my dear Martha ? " 
 and with a kind and gentle smile he attempted to take her 
 hand. 
 
 But this was not the species of salutation in which Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's warm heart (as she was wont to describe it) 
 most delighted. 
 
 " No, dearest WiUoughby ! " she cried, " after such an 
 absence, let us meet as we parted at SUverton, with a sisterly 
 embrace ! " The gentleman of course complied ; but sighed as 
 
182 THE ■WTDOW MARRIED. 
 
 he felt lis own slight person lost, as it were, and buried in the 
 majestic vastness of that of his sister-in-law, and remembered 
 how very diflferent were the circumstances of the two moments 
 she thus placed side by side. 
 
 The operation completed, however, he resumed his quiet and 
 gentlemanly kindness of manner, gave two fingers to the ex- 
 tended palm of Mr. Allen O'Donagough, upon that person 
 being solemnly presented to him, and kissed, without waiting 
 to' be asked, the blooming daughter of his recovered relative. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, with her usual quickness, immediately 
 saw that of aU. the great and grand connections amidst which 
 her happy destiny had tlu'own her, Mr. Willoughby was the one 
 to stick to, with the least chance of being shaken off. She felt 
 that he was her sheet-anchor, and round him she determined to 
 swing, let the wind blow from what quarter it would. 
 
 While these introductions and embracings were proceeding, 
 Mr. Stephenson and Compton Hubert stood silently watching 
 them; the former, with his usual unwearied spirit of gaiety, 
 determined to administer to the amusement which the eyes of 
 his wife — the only portion of her face that was visible — showed 
 she derived from the scene, and the latter only waiting tiU his 
 grandfather had concluded his civilities to Miss Patty, in order 
 to renew his own acquaintance with her. 
 
 Mr. Stephenson speedily perceived that there was no need 
 of any interference on his part, in order to put the well- 
 remembered Mrs. Barnaby in action for the amusement of his 
 wife ; neither did it seem to him at aU necessary on the present 
 occasion, to put in play any portion of that fund of good- 
 humoured persiflage, in which his Nora delighted, for the pur- 
 pose of bringing forth to view Miss Patty's clainis to the same 
 species of notice, inasmuch as his young friend Compton ap- 
 peared fully adequate to the task. Therefore, having bowed a 
 smiling acknowledgment to Mrs. O'Donagough's affectionate 
 recognition, he sat himself down so as to command a fuU view 
 of the whole party, and of his wife's eyes into the bargain. 
 
 It required but a slight glance from time to time to perceive, 
 that however absurd, there was nothing very new in the flirta- 
 tion going on between the young people ; every feature of the 
 case being essentially the same as must ever recur, when a bold 
 boy is encouraged in his audacity by a coarse-mannered girl. 
 But not so Mrs. Allen O'Donagough. Her energetic affection 
 — her laughing ecstasy at their present reunion, and her weep- 
 ing softness over the days that were gone — her modest insinua- 
 tions of her own " genteel independence,'''' and the joy she anti- 
 cipated from watching with " true sisterly affection,'" his present 
 affluence — contrasted with Mr. WiUoughby's somewhat embar- 
 rassed, but always polite manner of listening to her, formed a 
 
A NEW PHASE OF CHARACTER. 183 
 
 tableau of no common kind, and one from whioh a less laughter- 
 loving pair than the one before whom it was performed might 
 have found amusement. 
 
 At length it seemed to strike Mr. Stephenson, who, not- 
 withstanding his too boyish love of mystification, was really 
 good-natured, that Mr. O'Donagough was left rather too much 
 in the baok-groimd, and turning abruptly round to him, he 
 said, " Won't you take a look at our fine view, Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough. This is the most commanding window in Brighton." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough inmiediately rose, and with a not very 
 unskilful assumption of gentlemanly ease, walked towards the 
 window. 
 
 " It is perfectly magnificent ! " he said, " and it is unique. 
 No other mansion in Brighton is so happily situated." 
 
 " That is very true, sir," said-Mr. Stephenson, rising, and 
 following him out upon the balcony. " We have been fortunate 
 enough to get this house three years running." 
 
 Frederic Stephenson was one of those happy-natured people 
 who, loving his wife and children, heartily loved also, only in a 
 somewhat less degree, all the other goods with which the gods 
 had provided him, and wanted no warning voice to bid him 
 " think them worth enjoying ; " but liked well, nevertheless, 
 that all around him should perceive and acknowledge what a 
 particularly happy feUow he was in all respects. Had Mrs. 
 O'Donagough been within reach of watching her husband during 
 his conversation with Mr. Stephenson on the balcony -she would 
 have found that she did not yet know him so well as she fancied 
 she did, and that there was stiU some aspects of his Proteus- 
 hke nature which had never been exhibited to her. With a 
 cautious avoidance of aU subjects that might prove dangerous, 
 ISIr. Allen O'Donagough now conversed like a man of the gay 
 world, who knew perfectly well how to appreciate so accom- 
 pUshed a personage as Mr. Stephenson. With the rapidity 
 which is usually acquired by persons that not only possess their 
 wits, but live by them, he contrived to form a tolerably correct 
 estimate of the strong and the weak points of the gentleman's 
 character before he parted from him, while at the same time he 
 left on Mr. Stephenson's mind a persuasion that he was a re- 
 markably clever, well-informed man, and that it was quite won- 
 derful how he could ever have married such a ridiculous person 
 as Mrs. Bamaby. 
 
 Their colloquy and their acquaintance might have proceeded 
 stm further had not Mrs. Stephenson got tired of watching 
 Mrs. Bamaby and her father, and Miss Bamaby and her 
 nephew, which happened the sooner from no longer having her 
 husband's eyes to answer the appeals of her own. For a time, 
 indeed, her young daughter, who forsook her beads, and changed 
 
184 THE ■WIDOW MAREIED. 
 
 her place for the purpose of watching the odd-looking stranger^, 
 supplied his absence tolerably well, by the very intelligent looks 
 which she exchanged with her mamma (for it was not part of 
 the family disciphne to deny the younger branches their fair 
 share and participation in all the enjoyments of quizzing) ; but 
 the young lady, after having seen enough to enable her to mimie 
 both Mrs. and Miss Donago satisfactorily, ran off to the school- 
 room, to puzzle the French governess, and dehght her sisters by 
 the performance. 
 
 Soon after her exit, Mrs. Stephenson withdrew the shelter- 
 ing myrtle from her face, and freely yawned. But neither Mrs. 
 nor Miss O'Donagough saw it. They were both too happy, too 
 elated to observe it. The graceful lady then changed her posi- 
 tion on the couch, and with an air of pretty restlessness threw 
 aside her flowers, took a book, yawned again, and finally rose 
 from her attitude of repose, and despite her fear of freckles, 
 sought her husband in the balcony. 
 
 E troppo caro ! " she whispered in his ear. 
 
 Mr. Stephenson immediately broke short the conversation in 
 which he was engaged, by saying to his wife, as he took her 
 arm, to lead her from an atmosphere which he knew she dreaded, 
 "You are come to remind me, Nora, of my engagement — are 
 you not ? I must beg you to excuse me, Mr. O'Donagough, I 
 am obUged to go out, and must therefore wish you a good 
 morning. If you will leave your card, I will certainly have the 
 pleasure of calling on you." The observant Mr. Allen O'Dona- 
 gough took the hint, and re-entering the room gently admon- 
 ished his wife upon her seeming forgetfulness of the flight of time. 
 
 "My dearest O'D., can you wonder at it? " she replied, her 
 eyes and her cheeks glowing with enthusiastic sensibihty. 
 " Think of the years which have elapsed since my dear brother- 
 in-law and I have thus sat side by side together ! Can you not 
 imagine how it must bring back the memory of my beloved 
 Sophia ? Such moments are too delicious to be measured ? " 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough slowly rose from her chair as she spoke; 
 and what with feathers, veil, floating mantle of stiflfened muslin, 
 and her own august expansiveness, it struck Mrs. Stephenson that 
 she had never seen anything so large in her hfe before, and she 
 seemed to shrink up into her own delicate mignardise, as if anxi- 
 ous to increase the contrast. Mis. O'Donagough stepped 
 towards her with an extended hand ; but the fair Nora had no 
 mind to be " shaken," and glancing up an appealing look to 
 her husband, which he perfectly well understood, she retrograded 
 a step or two, at the same time bowing her farewell, whole he 
 advanced, took the large hand in his own much smaller one, and 
 atoned for all his lady's deficiencies, by a voluble repetition of 
 " Good bye, Mrs. O'Donagough, good bye, good bye." 
 
A TVELCOME DErAETUEE. 185 
 
 Thougli Frederic, notwithstanding all his good nature, 
 shook the huge hand very much as if he wished to shake it off, 
 Mrs. O'Donagough held fast, till in a half-whisper, she had 
 miirmured something very tender to him about the memory of 
 Chfton, and past times — then determined to emulate the 
 elegant retreating movement of Mrs. Stejihenson, she began 
 backing out of the room, bending deeply forward at every 
 step, like the head of a ship in a too fair wind, and reiterating 
 " Good morning 1 good morning I good morning ! " tiU she 
 reached the door. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough was so glad that it was over, and, as he 
 felt, well over, that on throwing open the door of communication 
 between the two drawing-rooms, for his daughter and wife to 
 pass, he shpped by them, as if the more quickly to insure his 
 own retreat. On reaching the landing-place, however, and 
 finding himself again amidst the impressive troop of green and 
 gold officials, he remembered that he was not making his exit 
 according to the established rules of etiquette, and turned round 
 to make way for his wife and daughter to pass before him. It 
 was with a feeling little short of dismay, that he found that they 
 were not, as he imagined, close at his heels, and on casting an 
 Orpheus-hke backward glance into the rooms, he perceived 
 that his wife was not half set free, for she was stiU in the inner 
 apartment. 
 
 In fact, while backing out of the room with her hiisband and 
 daughter following, Mrs. O'Donagough had totally lost sight of 
 and forgotten her slender brother-in-law ; but no sooner did 
 she perceive him again upon the removal of Mr. O'Donagough's 
 person, than it struck her she had not properly taken leave of 
 him, and rushing back again, she very liberally threw her arms 
 around him . — ^for her fond hands met behind Ins back — and im- 
 pressing a not silent kiss upon his cheek, exclaimed, " Good 
 heaven ! was I indeed going without uttering a sister's farewell 
 to you, dearest Willoughby ? Let us soon meet again. I have 
 no words to express the happiness L feel in your society. " 
 And then, as Frederic, Nora, and the young Compton had all 
 taken refuge in the balcony, she turned about, quitted the room 
 with a rapid step, seized upon Patty's arm, who was left staring 
 in the doorway, rejoined her husband, and with happy and 
 triimiphant feelings descended the stairs, which, as she owned 
 as soon as she had left the hoi:ise, she had mounted an. hour be- 
 fore with her heart in her mouth. 
 
 " She is gone, positively gone, Nora ! — so come in, out of this 
 scorching air ! " said M". Stephenson, after carefully recon- 
 noitring the apartment. 
 
 " Thank our stars ! " replied his wife, falling, as if exhausted, 
 upon the sofa. 
 
186 THE WIDOW MArtnTED. 
 
 " It is a very hot day," said Mr. WiUoughby, rising from a 
 chair, into -which he had sunk, when Mrs. O'Donagough with- 
 drew her arms from his person. " Very hot and oppressive 
 indeed — ^I tliink, Nora, I will go into my own dressing-room, 
 and he down upon the sofa a little. But don't let any of the 
 dear children come to me, for I feel very much overcome and 
 fatigued." So saying, the gentle, kind-hearted Mr. WiUoughby 
 languidly withdrew, and soon fell fast asleep without having 
 even whispered to his own heart that his affectionate sister-in- 
 law had nearly talked and hugged him to death. 
 
 " Are they not curious people, aunt Nora ? " said Compton, 
 as soon as his grandfather had quitted the room. 
 
 " Curious ! Oh ! heavens ! " repKed Mrs. Stephenson, with 
 a profound sigh. And then she stopped, as if unable to articu- 
 late another word. 
 
 " The girl is handsome though, isn't she ? " demanded the 
 youth ; adding, with a shrug, " but to be sure she is most horribly 
 vulgar." 
 
 " Handsome? you have the face to call that monster hand- 
 some, Compton ? How hideously ugly you must think us all, 
 your mother and sisters included." 
 
 " No I don't, aunt. But there are more styles than one, 
 you know." 
 
 " Do stop him, Frederic ! For mercy's sake do not let him 
 talk of styles, with that fearful creature in his thoughts ! Do 
 explain to him what style means, wiU you ? His mother has a 
 style, and I have a style — of — of appearance, I mean. But to 
 use such a phrase to her, really looks as if he did not know the 
 use of language. It is perfectly disgraceful. Dearest Frederic ! 
 for pity's sake, tell me, must I ever endure the sight of those 
 people more ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, I am afraid so, Nora," was the unsatis- 
 factory reply. " Remember that they are nearly related to 
 your sister Agnes, and in fact very nearly connected with your 
 father. How will it be possible to avoid your seeing them ? " 
 
 " Then you must make up your mind to my dying, 
 Frederic, for as to my enduring existence under circumstances 
 resembling those of the last three hours, it is perfectly out of 
 the question." 
 
 " Well then, dear, we must contrive to vary the circum- 
 stances as much as possible. The sight of that great woman 
 amuses me more than I can express. It is a sort of lesson in 
 natural history to watch her as she is now, aijd remember her 
 as she was some dozen and half years ago, or near it. I would 
 not give her up for more than I'll say — and Compton 's love 
 too, with her large face, bright cheeks, and brighter eyes. 
 They are treasures, perfect treasures in their way." 
 
A DEEADFUL POSSIBILITY. 187 
 
 "See what it is to be a philosopher," sighed forth Mrs. 
 Stephenson, resting her head on the arm of her couch, and 
 applying a bottle of salts to her nose. " You are too sublime 
 for me, Frederic — you are indeed." 
 
 " If you will be a good girl," replied her husband, laughing, 
 " and promise not to die about it, I will let you off easy, pro- 
 mising only to indulge my scientific speculations now and 
 then. How she contrived to get him I cannot guess ; but 
 Madam Bamaby's husband is really a very well-behaved, 
 sensible man." 
 
 " Oh — h ! " was uttered by Mrs. Stephenson, with another 
 profoundly deep " suspiration of forced breath." 
 
 " Come, Nora," said Frederic, " make the best of it. I am 
 certain your father will be vexed, dear good man, if you declare 
 open war upon this unfortunate race." 
 
 " My father ? Nay, Frederic, it is too good to quote him 
 against me when you have this moment seen him take to his 
 bed, sick of the Barnaby ! However, let us talk no more about 
 them, or decidedly I must go to bed too. King the bell, dear, 
 will you, and order some open carriage or other — I die for fresh 
 air ! By the way, Frederic, do you think that large lady will 
 ever kiss me ? I give you warning, you wiU never see me ahve 
 again if she does." 
 
 " Every possible precaution, Nora, shall be taken to prevent 
 it ; and we will keep Compton always in readiness to act as 
 your deputy, should the thriving offspring of the large lady 
 attempt anything of the kind. You will not refuse, Compton, 
 to perform this vicarial service for your aunt ? " 
 
 The boy coloured, tossed his handsome head, and yielded to 
 the solicitations of his young cousin to return to the balcony, 
 and set him cHmbing again. 
 
 " Where wiU you drive, Nora? " inquired Mr. Stephenson, 
 when the carriage was announced, 
 
 " To see Agnes, and consult with her how best to guard 
 against the inroads of this horde of savages." 
 
 " Do so, my dear, by all means. She will counsel you very 
 discreetly, depend upon it." 
 
 * * * » » 
 
 When the sisters met, there was, as usual, a very free exchange 
 of confidential communication between them. Mrs. Stephenson 
 declared that her curiosity being satisfied, she felt nothing but 
 terror at the idea of any familiar intercourse with "Mrs. 
 Donago ;" and that, somehow or other, she must find means to 
 prevent. To all this Agnes listened without surprise ; but 
 when in her turn she dwelt upon her own embarrassments from 
 the same source, and related all the circumstances of the gene- 
 ral's half-playful warfare with Mrs. Compton on the subject, 
 
188 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 the feelings of Nora underwent a sudden change. Nottfith- 
 standing a firm foundation of genuine liking and goodwill, there 
 was often a considerable difference of opinion on many subjects 
 between the high-minded and dignified, yet simple-mannered 
 General Hubert, and the capricious and affected, though afieo- 
 tionate httle beauty, his sister-in-law. 
 
 She had quite sense and right feehng enough to be conscious 
 of his high worth, and often in her graver moods, acknowledged 
 his superiority to everybody in the world, but her husband. 
 Yet she dearly loved to contradict him, and to make him feel, 
 in spite of all his wisdom, that the very folly of a pretty woman 
 has power in it. She was, moreover, wont to declare, that his 
 wife spoiled him, and that aU he wanted to make him perfectly 
 agreeable, was a little well-organised contradiction. 
 
 The tormenting process which the' venerable Mrs. Compton 
 seemed to be now making him undergo, for the express purpose 
 of proving that he had been wrong, secretly delighted Mrs. 
 Stephenson. She Hstened to every word concerning it with 
 deep attention, comprehended perfectly the game which both 
 parties were playing, and immediately determined, thoughtless 
 of consequences, to eke out aunt Betsy's efforts to prove that the 
 general had blundered by every means in her power. Of this 
 new whim she gave no hint to Agnes, but parted from her with 
 a gentle promise to endure the Donago infliction as patiently as 
 she could. 
 
 Had it not been for this unfortunate vagary on the part of 
 Mrs. Stephenson, it is probable that all serious annoyance from 
 the O'Donagoughs would have gradually died away, from the 
 positive difl&culty of keeping up anything like friendly inter- 
 course between persons so every way incongruous. But for this, 
 the ci-devant major's ambitious projects would have gradually 
 sank into a humbler sphere, his wife would soon have preferred 
 talking of her "darling Agnes," to enduring the restraint of her 
 presence ; aunt Betsy would have grown weary of the sport, 
 and so would Master Compton too ; while it can hardly be 
 doubted that General Hubert himself would have gladly suffered 
 the discordant connection to be placed on a proper footing, 
 according to Mrs. O'Donagough as much consideration as might 
 be granted without inconvenience to his own family, but no 
 more. 
 
 That all this was most devoutly to be wished, nobody felt so 
 strongly as poor Agnes ; but xmfortunately in this case, neither 
 her judgment nor her conduct could avail to check the inischief 
 produced by the frolicsome thoughtlessness of Nora — ^the easy 
 pliability of her husband, and the sort of compunctuous weak- 
 ness with which poor Mr. WiUoughby permitted himself to be 
 persecuted by his first wife's sister, as a sort of atonement for 
 
AJT AGREEABLE COMPANION. 189 
 
 Lis deeply-repented neglect of her child. AH this worked 
 together so eflfectuaUy, that before the end of a fortnight, the 
 mischief had got so far ahead of them, as to produce a per- 
 fectly good understanding on the subject between General 
 Hubert and Mrs. Compton. Both cordially confessed they 
 had been -wrong, and most cordially united in deprecating the 
 consequences of it ; but, unfortunately, they were no longer 
 capable of stopping the movement they had put in action. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough, without making the slightest attempt to 
 lead Stephenson to play, contrived to discover that in the winter 
 he had no sort of objection to it ; and, meanwhile, by innu- 
 merable devices to make liimself useful and even agreeable to 
 him. With as much genuine coarseness, he had infinitely more 
 tact than his vulgar wife', and was, in truth, so able an actor, 
 that with an object of sufficient importance before him, he was 
 capable of sustaining many characters extremely foreign to his 
 own. Stephenson soon believed him to have been the most 
 enthusiastic sportsman, the most enterprising naturalist, and 
 the most benevolent speculator who had ever visited New South 
 Wales, and listened to his unbounded has with undoubting con- 
 fidence, till at length he became fully convinced, that despite 
 the peculiarities of " the Barnaby," he had found a very 
 valuable acquaintance in her husband ; and that at the time 
 when everybody was talking of the country with interest, it 
 was really very pleasant to have picked up a man who probably 
 knew more ahout it than any one else in England. It was 
 exactly the sort of thing Frederic Stephenson Eked, enabling 
 Mm to get in the van of information, without the bore of read- 
 ing interminable books, and endless quarterly articles upon it ; 
 and, in short, Mr. Allen O'Donagough was soon on such 
 excellent terms with " the rich Stephenson," that he dined with 
 him twice in one week, and might most days be seen walking 
 and talking with liim on the pier for an hour together. This 
 intimacy went on the more prosperously, because Mrs. Stephen- 
 son contrived in her usual easy style, to perform her part of the 
 mischief she was so thoughtlessly promoting, with very little 
 inconvenience to herself. She called once or twice on Mrs. 
 O'Donagough ; but as her carriage had two or three children in 
 it, she could not leave them, and therefore only sent in her card, 
 and when these visits were returned, it was poor Mr. Wil- 
 loughby who had to converse with her. The inviting Mr. 
 O'Donagough to dinner, of course did not include the ladies of 
 the family ; yet the talking of it served extremely well to show 
 the general that his friendly reception of his wife's aunt had 
 already entaUed the connection upon them, and in addition to 
 this, Nora more than once amused herself by' inviting Patty to 
 pass the evening when Compton was engaged to dine with 
 
190 THE •WIDOW MAHEIED. 
 
 them, a device ■which produced a display of coquetry on the 
 part of the young lady, so comic, as repeatedly to make her 
 forget her fine-ladyism in hearty laughter at the remembrance 
 of it. 
 
 It was by dilating a httle too maliciously upon this, in the 
 presence both of General Hubert and Mrs. Comptom, that the 
 foundation of a perfect reconcihation between them was laid. 
 No sooner did they find themselves alone together, or, at least, 
 with Agnes only for a witness, than they both, as by common 
 consent, pleaded guilty to great folly in permitting Compton to 
 amuse himself in so objectionable a manner ; and the ice once 
 broken, nothing could be more frank than the sincerity with 
 which each declared themselves to blame. But, unfortunately, 
 it was much easier to confess the fault than to remedy it ; and 
 so insidiously did Mrs. O'Donagough contrive to turn every 
 accident to profit in promoting the intercourse between the 
 cousins, that at length the old lady suddenly declared her inten- 
 tion of returning immediately to Compton Basset, and taking 
 her young heir with her for the purpose of giving him some 
 shooting upon his own manor. This was conferring a degree of 
 pre-eminent dignity upon the boy, which both father and 
 mother, under other circumstances, would have been very likely 
 to disapprove ; but now no objection was made to it, and the 
 scheme was immediately decided upon. The bright eyes of 
 Miss Patty could by no means stand a competition with par- 
 tridge shootipg with his own dogs, and the youthful Lothario, 
 mounted on the coach-box of aunt Betsy's carriage, dashed past 
 the abode of his ielle, and waved his hat so gaily to her and 
 her mother, who stood together at the open drawing-room 
 window, that though little was said between them on the sub- 
 ject, both felt that "spiteful aunt Betsy" had achieved a ioar 
 de force, which disappointed many projects. 
 
 The mother consoled herself by remembering, that "the 
 horrid old woman could not live for ever," and the daughter 
 found solace in a long recapitulation of Jack's love-making 
 on board the Atalanta, during a long walk on the chff with 
 her faithful friend Matilda. 
 
 The departure of Compton, and, to say the truth, the 
 departure of aunt Betsy also, were, under the present circum- 
 stances, a considerable relief to General Hubert ; nevertheless, 
 the O'Donagough plague was far from being put an end to by 
 it. Agnes was still perpetually pained by witnessing the 
 annoyance endured by her father under the persecutions of his 
 affectionate sister-in-law. 
 
 It was Mr. Willoughby's habit to ramble out every morning 
 when at the sea-side immediately after breakfast, sometimes 
 leading one grandchild with him, and sometimes another, Mrs. 
 
RETREAT, 191 
 
 O'Donagougli soon became acquainted with this fact, and from 
 that hour the unfortunate gentleman was never permitted to 
 inhale the breeze he loved without having her closely fastened 
 to his side. Though neither his spirits nor his frame were 
 particularly robust, he might, perhaps, have endured this daily 
 annoyance with greater fortitude, had it been confined to the 
 operations of her tongue as she walked beside him ; but always 
 conscious that of all those upon whom she hung for the grati- 
 fication of her ambition, he was the one who would endure the 
 demonstrations of her love most patiently, she never relaxed iu 
 her determination to make the most of him. 
 
 This led to such heavy hangings on his arm, such lusty 
 tapping's on the back when she had hunted him into the public 
 library, and so many other wearying tokens of afiectionate 
 familiarity, that, though he complained to no one, his life 
 positively became a burden to him ; and it was only because 
 he thought somebody or other would guess the reason and think 
 he was unkind to " poor Sophy's sister," that he did not at 
 once take to his bed in order to get rid of her. 
 
 The only person who did guess the reason of his languid 
 looks and altered spirits, was his daughter Agnes ; and the idea 
 having once suggested itseU', there was no great difficulty in 
 testing its truth and convincing herself that it was well-founded. 
 As soon as she became quite sure of the fact, she pointed it out to 
 her husband, who secretly reproached himself much more severely 
 than he confessed for having been so greatly the cause of it. 
 These feelings d'wn part et d'autre soon led to the anticipation 
 of a scheme, long ago projected, but not intended to take place 
 tin the following year. 
 
 General Hubert's eldest son had gone through Eton school, 
 with such brilhant rapidity as to be ready for college at least 
 two years before his father wished to send him there. During 
 this dangerous interval he had himself determined upon being 
 his tutor, and, by taking him on the continent with his mother 
 ■and sisters, hoped to assist essentially the formation of his 
 moral character while giving him the advantage of modern 
 languages and extensive traveUing. 
 
 In this scheme Mr. Willoughby had been always included ; 
 he had abeady repeatedly visited Italy, and had so uniformly 
 found himself in better health on the continent, that nothing 
 but his averseness to leaye his daughters and their children 
 induced him to reside in England. 
 
 Had General and Mrs. Hubert wanted any confirmation on 
 the subject of Mr. Willoughby 's weariness of Brighton, they 
 would have found it in the manner of his receiving their 
 proposal for immediately leaving it for France. 
 
 When every member of a party is cordially desirous of 
 
192 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 promoting a scheme, and ample means exist to faoiKtate' its 
 being carried into execution, it is wonderful how much may be 
 done in a httle time. Mrs. Hubert, Miss Wilmot, and the 
 two girls with their attendants, almost immediately crossed to 
 Dieppe under the escort of Mr. Willoughby, while General 
 Hubert, who it was settled should join them at Paris, returned 
 to London for the purpose of settling everything previous to 
 his leaving England, and arranging the movements of his son 
 Montague upon his finally quitting school. 
 
 Old Mrs. Compton had been long prepared for this sepa- 
 ration, and was comforted under it by Compton Hubert's 
 promising to make Compton Basset, now become a very hand- 
 some residence, his principal home during the vacations ; while 
 to its taking place somewhat earlier than was intended, she was 
 perfectly reconciled by the motive for it. 
 
 CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 NoTWiTHSTAJSDiNG the suddcn departure of General Hubert, 
 and his family, the memory of their greatness, like the hght- 
 diffusing tail of a comet, remaind behind them, and Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough continued to be a person of unquestionable importance 
 with all her Brighton acquaintance. The circle, indeed, was not 
 a large one ; her affections, as she observed to every member of it, 
 having been too much centred on her own relations to leave her 
 leisure for cultivating the misoellaneous friendship of the world 
 at large. 
 
 " I know this is not right," said she, " I am quite aware that 
 it is one's duty to be condescending and civil to everybody ; but 
 with me it is always the heart that speaks, and it would be in 
 vain to attempt struggling vrith my affection for my darling 
 niece, Mrs. Hubert, and her dear family — ^they have made me 
 positively neglect everybody else ; but I cannot help it ! Those 
 who know her wUl appreciate the attraction, and forgive me ; 
 while by those who do not, I must submit to be accounted 
 fastidious, exclusive, and most abominably proud." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough, who, when he was not meditating on 
 matters more important, would frequently derive considerable 
 amusement from hstening to his vrife, now and then indulged in 
 a httle quiet quizzing at her expense ; but she had too much 
 good sense to take a great deal of notice of it, and generally 
 contrived, indeed, to end by having much the best of it in her 
 own opinion. 
 
 One point on which he particularly liked to attack her was 
 on the change in their relative positions, as to their intercourse 
 
AN IMPOSSIBLE SLIGHT. 193 
 
 ■with the Stephenson family. He remembered their first visit, 
 and the secondary part he had acted upon that occasion, which 
 he loved to contrast with the one now allotted him. 
 
 "I cannot think how it is, my dear, that you see so very 
 little of your own near connection, Mrs. Stephenson, while I am 
 got so pleasantly intimate with her husband ; but it seems really 
 as if you.counted for nothing with them," said he. 
 
 " The reason for that is plain enough, Mr. O'Donagough — I 
 cannot abide that httle idiot woman ; in fact, I perfectly hate 
 the sight of her — odioiis doU ! lolling almost at fuU length in her 
 open carriage, just to make everybody stare at her, with a dozen 
 children hke so many monkeys stuck up behind and before, to 
 make up the show." 
 
 " Don't agitate yourself, my dear ! " resumed the gentleman, 
 in a mild voice ; " though I cannot greatly wonder at your 
 feeling vexed. She really takes no more notice of you than if 
 you were no relation at all ; and considering how remarkably 
 aflfectionate you are to all your cousins, it must be very- 
 trying." 
 
 " You may keep your pity to yourself, Mr. O'Donagough ; 
 and if you fancy I am affronted, you were never more deceived 
 in your hfe. Besides, you mistake the matter altogether. The 
 fact is, she is all but blind, poor thing, and I don't choose to be 
 always bawling after her, as the carriage drives along ; but it is 
 most preposterously out of the question, to suppose for a moment, 
 that she would dare to cut me ! " 
 
 " Well, my dear, I dare say you know best ; but sometimes 
 it looks very like it." 
 
 "Nonsense, O'Donagough! Cut me, indeed ! when her own 
 father, dear affectionate creature, perfectly dotes upon me ! He 
 treats me a thousand times more Hke a sister than a sister- in-law, 
 and — bless him ! — ^I love him in return as a real sister should, and 
 so he shall find, I can tell her, as soon as he comes back to 
 England ; for let him be where he will, in town or country, 
 I am quite determined to be near him. People as sincerely 
 attached as we are, cannot bear to be long parted." 
 ***** 
 
 Some weeks more of fine autumn weather passed away, 
 during which the O'Donagough family, and their little coterie, 
 continued to enjoy the sea-breezes and each other's society, in the 
 most fashionable maimer. 
 
 Some desultory conversations occasionally arose between the 
 ci-devant major and his lady as to what they were to do, and 
 where they were to go next. On all these occasions, Mr. 
 O'Donagough permitted his wife to talk almost as much as she 
 liked, without uttering a word that deserved the name of contra- 
 diction. But though she laid down very plainly what he had 
 
194 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 best do — and what of course he would do — and what it would be 
 perfect madness if he did not do, the subject always came to a 
 close without leaving her at aU wiser respecting his real inten- 
 tions than when it began. 
 
 Meanwhile, Patty was enjoying herself greatly ; for though, 
 as she ingenuously confesse^d to her friend Matilda, she had no 
 one lean in particular, there was not one of the set, except 
 Foxcroft, who did not make a little love to her whenever they 
 had an opportunity. But a heavy blow was about to disturb 
 her tranquillity. 
 
 The Miss Perkinses having by this time, in the most lady- 
 like and respectable manner, expended the sum (whatever it 
 might have been) destined for their marine excursion, had been 
 one morning looking anxiously over all their Uttle accounts, and 
 had reluctantly decided that it was quite time to return to their 
 first floor at Belle- Vue-terrace, Brompton, for the remainder of 
 the passing year, and the first seven months of the next. 
 
 They had just mutually exchanged the melancholy worde, 
 " Yes, we must go ! " when their beloved Patty, with her accus- 
 tomed vehemence of vivacity, bounced into the room. 
 
 " What a hateful bad day it is for the glass ! " she exclauned, 
 rushing to the window, which a driving rain from the south- 
 west had obliged the sisters reluctantly to close. " Not a soul 
 to be seen in the sea, or out of it ! Isn't it a bore ? " 
 
 " Alas ! my dearest Patty," replied Miss MatUda, " vexing 
 as it is to see the rain fall so, I have got something at my heart 
 worse than that." 
 
 "Why, you haven't seen Foxcroft go by without looking in, 
 or anything of that sort, have you ? " repHed the sympatlusing 
 young girl, with a significant smile. 
 
 " No, Patty, no, not that. I reaUy don't believe there is 
 any danger of it," replied Matilda, with a heavy sigh. " Poor 
 Foxcroft ! poor dear fellow ! he little thinks how soon all our 
 delightful evenings in that dear drawing-room up stairs will be 
 over ! " 
 
 " Over ! " echoed Patty. " Why, what's in the wind now ? 
 the route isn't come, is it ? " 
 
 " Not for him, Patty, but it has come for me ! " 
 
 " What do you mean, Matilda ? " 
 
 " Only too truly what I say, dearest ; think what I fefel, 
 when I tell you that my sister has received a letter from London 
 this morning, which renders it absolutely necessary that we 
 should return home immediately." 
 
 " Stuif and nonsense ! " replied Patty. " I shovdd like to 
 know what there is to make you two go, if you choose to stay ? 
 What's the good of being old maids? — of course I don't mean 
 you, Matilda, fori really don't beheve you will be one in the 
 
THE FOKLORN HOPE. 195 
 
 eTid ; tut whafs the good of having nobody in the world 
 belonging to you, if you can't stay when you please, and go 
 when you please ? " 
 
 " Business, my dear, you know, must be minded," said Miss 
 Louisa, rather mysteriously. 
 
 " WeV, then, let Miss Louisa go by herself," said the lively 
 Patty. " She is old enough to walk alone, and I neither can 
 nor will be left here without you to walk with, Matilda. You 
 shan't budge a step, tUl we go too." 
 
 " Dear, darling creature ! " exclaimed Miss Matilda, in a 
 burst of enthusiastic fondness, while a delightful hope flashed 
 through her mind that it was possible Mrs. O'Donagough, to 
 please her daughter, might ask her to remain as their guest 
 after her sister went. So overwhelming was this sudden hope 
 that it almost choked her, and pressing both her hands upon her 
 heaving breast, she looked in the face of her young friend with 
 the most touching expression imaginable. 
 
 Patty inherited a considerable portion of her mother's acute- 
 ness, and saw in a moment what her friend had got in her head. 
 The idea accorded perfectly with her own inclination, which 
 would have prompted her at once to offer the half of her own 
 little bed, rather than be left without a friend and confidant. 
 But she remembered her papa, and remembered, too, the cold- 
 meat dinners which frequently graced their domestic board ; so 
 she prudently restrained her hospitahty, and only said — 
 
 " Stop a minute, Matilda ! I want to speak to mamma, and 
 you must not stir till I come back again." 
 
 " Darling girl ! I know what she is gone for," exclaimed 
 the agitated Matilda, as soon as the door was closed. " Oh, 
 Louisa ! I shall be perfectly wild with joy if she succeeds. I do 
 assure you, very seriously, that I think Foxcroft means to pro- 
 pose to me. You need not shake your head so gloomily, my 
 dear. I know you are thinking how often I have been disap- 
 pointed before ; but certainly no one can be so good a judge as 
 myself what his manner is. Besides, Louisa, if the O'Dona- 
 goughs invite me, I should Uke to accept it, whether I am right 
 or wrong about Foxcroft ; but this I will say, that if he really 
 does mean nothing, it is better for my peace of mind that I 
 should find it out at once, and if I do find him to be such a 
 villain, I shall soon cease to care about him, I can promise you 
 that. You may depend upon it, my dear, I shall spend 
 nothing — not a single sixpence after you are gone, excepting 
 about eighteenpence a week for my washing." 
 
 WHle the ardent Matilda thus pleaded her own cause below 
 stairs, her faithful friend was not less eloquent above. She had, 
 however, a tougher listener to deal with. 
 
 " So here you are together — that's right," said she, as she 
 
 M 2 
 
196 THE WIDOW MAEEIBD. 
 
 entered the drawing-room, with an assured step and confiding 
 spirit ; "I have got something that I want to say to you 
 both." 
 
 " And what may that be, Miss Brighteyes ? " demanded her 
 father. 
 
 " I'll tell you in no time," replied the young lady, ap- 
 proaching him ; " but please to remember, papa, that tliis time 
 you must let me have my own way, or you and I shall 
 be two." 
 
 " Indeed ! and pray what's in the wind now ? " 
 
 " What do yoa think, both of you, of the Perkinses being 
 going away?" 
 
 " No ! are they indeed ? " cried Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 " Never mind, Patty, we shall not be long behind them," 
 added her husband. 
 
 "But I don't choose to be behind them at all, papa," 
 replied the young lady. 
 
 "That's nonsense, Patty. I won't have you go trying to 
 fix their starting for just the same day as ours ; I don't want 
 to have my travelling ways spied into by anybody, and that I 
 should have thought you might have known by this time.", 
 
 " Oh yes, papa, I know all that of course ; but as I have 
 chosen Matilda Perkins for my particular friend, she must not 
 be counted as anybody ; and what I have come for now, is to 
 say that you must let me invite her to stay behind her sister, 
 and sleep with me." 
 
 ' "You shall do no such thing. Miss Patty, I promise you," 
 replied her papa ; " and if you have got into the scrape of 
 asking her, with your eyes shut, you may get out of it as you 
 can with your eyes open. And now .come here," he continued, 
 holding out both his hands to invite her approach, "I have 
 something to say to you." Patty felt a prodigiously strong 
 incKnation to snap her fingers, and run out of the room; 
 but she fortunately gave a glance at the expressive countenance 
 of her parent, and then walked quietly enough towards him, 
 placing her hands in his. "Now, then, Martha O'Donagough," 
 he said, "listen to a word or two, and take my advice when I 
 teU you to remember them. I never wiU, now or ever, suffer 
 any human being, man, woman, or child, except servants, to 
 enter my house as an inmate. You are but a baby. Miss Patty, 
 with all your cleverness, as to the ways of the world, or you 
 would understand the wisdom of tins. But whether you 
 understand it or not, remkmbee it ; and remember, too, if 
 you please, that though I give you free leave to make as many 
 friends as you like, and to talk to them early and late, of your 
 bonnets and beaux, I will lock you up upon bread and water, 
 ' as sure as you stand here, if I ever catch you uttering a single 
 
A EEJECTED SUIT. 197 
 
 syllable about me, or my house, or my friends, or anything that 
 I do, or anything that I say. Don't fancy, Patty, that I shall 
 not find it out. I have not lived for nothing, my dear, and 
 what I want to know, I generally get at, first or last. Ask 
 your mamma." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, though possessed in no common degree 
 of the courage and confidence produced by the consciousness of 
 great mental power — and no woman could have a much higher 
 idea of her own abihty — felt nevertheless something exceedingly 
 like awe, as she now listened to her husband. She often, indeed, 
 felt that she did not fully comprehend him — that there were 
 still many peculiarities in his character that she could not quite 
 make out, and that, although, as she constantly assured herself 
 and Patty, she was not in the least bit afraid of him, some feel- 
 ing which she could not exactly describe, generally in all their 
 little disputes, led her to the conclusion that it might be as well 
 not to defy him. It was this which made her, when thus ap- 
 pealed to, immediately answer, "Mind what he says to you, 
 Patty, there's a good girl. Of course he knows best, and when 
 he speaks in earnest, as he does now, it would be very siUy and 
 wrong not to mind. So say nothing at all, Patty, to Matilda 
 about staying. I can't say I should much approve it myself-^ 
 she has always seen everything about us quite genteel, and 
 what's the good of letting her know what we Uke to do when 
 we are quite by ourselves ? Besides, Patty, you must see that 
 she is getting so intimate with Foxcroft as to be sure of telling 
 him just everything — and I have no notion of that. The 
 officers have always seen us in the most agreeable manner 
 possible — and what with my clever httle suppers, and my dear 
 relationship to the general, it is sure and certain that we count 
 for people of consequence with them, which may be a great 
 advantage to us all, let us meet them where we wiU." 
 
 " That's enough, and to spare, mamma," said Miss Patty, 
 venturing to bestow upon her female parent the sulkiness gene- 
 rated by the decision of her father. " For pity's sake, don't 
 go preaching on any longer. If I mustn't have a friend to speak 
 to, I mustn't, and there's an end of that — only I hope we are 
 not to stay much longer in this beastly stupid place — I am as 
 tired as tired of it." And with these words the young lady 
 made her exit, slamming the door after her with considerable 
 energy. 
 
 She had no great difficulty, on reaching the parlour again, 
 to read on the countenance of her friend the hopes and expec- 
 tations-to which her own sudden departure had given rise, and 
 spite of the lecture she had just received, she scrupled not to con- 
 fess that she had asked for leave to invite her, and had been 
 refused. Her manner of confessing this, however, showed the 
 
198 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 species of inherited talent she possessed, as much as it did her 
 filial obedience to the spirit as well as to the letter of her 
 instructions. 
 
 " I would hare given anything, Matilda, to have got yon to 
 stay with me," she said, " but mamma's notions are always so 
 grand about everything, that she won't ask you because she 
 hasn't a fine handsome bedroom to put you in." 
 
 " Oh, dear me! I hope she would not mind that with such 
 an intimate friend as I am !" exclaimed the affectionate Matilda, 
 almost sobbing with eagerness. 
 
 " There's no good thinking any more about it, my dear," 
 repUed Patty, decisively. " It's no go." 
 
 " And all because of the bedroom being Uttle t " rejoined 
 Matilda, with a groan. " Oh ! Patty ! I'd sleep upon the floor 
 with a blanket round me, with joy and gladness, that I would ! 
 — Yes, Patty, or without a blaniet either, rather than go away 
 from you — ^that I would ! " 
 
 The excited feelings of the disappointed lady here over- 
 powered her, and she burst into tears. 
 
 " It is folly and nonsense crying about it, Matilda," said 
 Patty, with less of sympathising softness than her friend might 
 have wished. " That's not my way. They never make me cry 
 now, let them do or say what they will. I always get my own 
 way when I can, and when I cannot, which isn't often, I just 
 snap my fingers at them, and take pretty good care to get 
 something else out of 'em before I've done." 
 
 Miss Matilda here took Miss Louisa aside to the farthest 
 corner of the room, and consulted her in a whisper, as to the 
 possibiHty of her continuing to occupy their present bedroom 
 for a week or two longer. 
 
 "My dear child," replied the tender-hearted elder sister, 
 " there is nothing I would not do to help you ; but you know 
 we have reckoned the money over and over, and that there 
 will be, when all's paid, but just enough to take us to our own 
 door, and not a penny to spare. I wish to heaven you had not 
 bought that blue sDk gown, Matilda ! " 
 
 " There is no good in taunting me with that now, Louisa ; 
 I had the best of motives for it, and it is cruel to throw it at me, 
 at the very moment too when I am within such a hair's-breadth 
 of making it answer. Dear, dear Louisa ! do try to help me ! 
 Think what a thing it would be for both of us, if I was to 
 marry ! " 
 
 " What can I do, Matilda ? " replied the elder ; " I can't 
 do miracles, you know." But after a moment's consideration, 
 she added, "There is but one way I can think of, and that's 
 one I don't Uke at all. I suppose we might leave the shoe 
 bill tiU next year." 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT. 199 
 
 " Good heavens ! to be sure we might," rephed Matilda, 
 with recovered spirits, and suddenly giving her sister a most 
 cordial kiss. " There is nobody of any fashion, as we all know, 
 who does not leave bills everywhere." Then suddenly ap- 
 proaching Patty, who, despite the unfavourable state of the 
 atmosphere, was employed as usual in making experiments with 
 the telescope, and addressing her in a tone that expressed both 
 tenderness and gaiety, she said, "My darling Patty! I do 
 positively think it would break my heart to part with you a 
 single hour before I was absolutely forced to do it, and Louisa 
 says that of course I could keep on my own bedroom, if that 
 was all." 
 
 Considerably alarmed by this pertinacity, which appeared 
 very likely to bring her into a scrape, Patty replied rather 
 abruptly, " Yes, my dear, but it is not all : papa is every bit as 
 proud as mamma, and he says that nothing in the world should 
 ever make him invite any one to stay with us without having 
 servants, footmen, you know, and all that. So it is no good 
 to say any more about it." 
 
 " But, my dearest Patty ! Surely such a friend as I am — " 
 
 " Say no more about it, I tell you, Matilda, but run and 
 put your things on, and come down to the pier ; it does not rain 
 a drop now to signify, and I am pretty sure I saw Foxcroft and 
 " Willis cross over as if they were going that way." 
 
 It was with a heavy heart, though with a rapid step, that 
 the unfortunate Matilda ran up stairs to comply with this re- 
 quest, and mournfully desponchng was the voice in which she 
 murmured to her friend, as they walked along, " Oh, Patty ! if 
 we should meet Foxcroft, how shall I bear to tell him that we 
 go on Monday ? " 
 
 "You 'must make the best of it, my dear, that is all I 
 can say," rephed her friend. " But step quicker, Matilda ! 
 There they are, as I hve, just going upon the pier now ! 
 They must have stopped somewhere or other since I first saw 
 them." 
 
 The eyes of Patty had not deceived her : on reaching the 
 pier they found the two gentlemen she had named, beguiling 
 their superabimdant leisure by leaning over the wall, and watch- 
 ing a distant ship or two through the haze. Of course the 
 young ladi^ expressed some surprise at seeing them. " So, then, 
 you are no more afraid of a Scotch mist than we are ? " said 
 Patty, giving her parasol to Mr. Willis, while she tightened the 
 strings of her too fragile bonnet. 
 
 " Anything is better than staying boxed up at home," re- 
 phed the young man ; " and I suppose that's your idea, Miss 
 Patty, as well as ours ? " 
 
 " I suppose it is," answered Patty. " But I dop't intend 
 
200 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 to stand still, shivering like this — ^I shall walk up and down just 
 as fast as I can trot." 
 
 " Well, then, you had better give me your arm, or upon my 
 life you will be blown over," said Mr. Willis, while Mi. Fox- 
 croft offered his to her companion in the most touching of 
 manners, namely, without saying a word ; which always seems 
 to indicate that protection on the one side, and dependence on 
 the other, is a matter of course between the parties. 
 
 Patty and her companion chattered away at a great rate ; 
 but Mr. Poxcroft and Miss Matilda Perkins walked on for 
 several paces without exchanging a word. The lady's heart was 
 beating violently, and the gentleman's head was at work. 
 
 When an unmarried officer of the Hne is very hard up, it is 
 by no means an unusual thing that he should turn his thoughts 
 towards matrimony ; but when conscious that his last birthday 
 left him within a lustre of half a hundred, and that his hair is a 
 dapple, between red and gray, he confines himself, if he be wise, 
 to the minor prizes in the market, takes especial care that there 
 be no fathers or brothers in the way, and is particular about 
 nothing, save the certainty that the lady has got something, and 
 that this something Is at her own disposal. At the moment 
 above mentioned, Lieutenant Foxcroft was turning in his head 
 all the facts which had reached his knowledge tending to throw 
 light on the financial concerns of his fair friend. Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough had shown himself perfectly ready to give all the infor- 
 mation he could, to which friendly openness he was perhaps in 
 some degree prompted by the fact, that Mr. Foxcroft owed him 
 a debt of honour, amounting to seventy-three pounds — but in 
 truth, his knowledge of the Miss Perlmises' concerns was not 
 sufficient to justify giving advice on so important a point, and 
 the brave lieutenant felt that he must be his own pioneer. 
 This naturally gave something of restraint to his conversation, 
 while on the other hand the collected tenderness of thirty-six 
 years, in a bosom peculiarly prone to receive soft impressions, 
 produced a swelling fulness in the heart of Miss Matilda, which 
 for a considerable time rendered it impossible for her to speak a 
 word. 
 
 At length Lieutenant Foxcroft became folly aware that there 
 was something dangerous in this protracted silence, and prelud- 
 ing the words by a slight cough, he said, 
 
 " What a very unpleasant day for the seaside it is." 
 
 It was with a sigh which an actress might have taken as a 
 model, that Miss Matilda replied " Very." 
 
 Again they were both silent ; when the lady, perceiving by 
 the green drops that trickled from her parasol upon her bosom, 
 that it would probably soon rain too hard for even Patty to 
 continue her promenade, determined that the precious moments 
 
'fX/y-/ ■ '>^/-{i.-/'. - (yy/x/'o^j^^/rru/ ^<^' cX->i^ ./'•a.ts.£'^/jJ^-f'</^P'- 
 
A DILEMMA. 201 
 
 wMch were passing, should not pass in vain, and struggling to 
 subdue the vehemence of her feelings, that she might speak 
 distinctly, she said, 
 
 " Captain Foxoroft, this is, I suppose, the last walk that 
 we shall take together at Brighton. My sister and myself 
 return to our London home on Monday." 
 
 They had just reached that end of the pier which abuts upon 
 the sea, as this annunciation concluded ; upon which the Lieu- 
 tenant stood stock-still ; and though the barrier against which 
 the waves were rudely breaking was cold and wet, the agitated 
 MatOda gladly availed herself of the support it offered ; and, 
 regardless of the smart silk -scarf that perished in the act, she 
 placed both her arms upon it, and remained with her eyes 
 intently fixed upon the ocean. 
 
 The news she had thus communicated considerably startled 
 Mr. Foxcroft, and plunged him in a very disagreeable dilemma ; 
 for he was by no means ready to act upon it in any way. He 
 would, indeed, have been vastly imprudent had he committed 
 himself either by declaring a passion or pronouncing a farewell. 
 For while, on the one hand, the lady's evident independence, 
 and equally evident partiality, urged him forward, his ignorance 
 of the amount of what he might gain by proceeding, kept him 
 back. His conduct, under the circumstances, was iu every way 
 judicious ; being, in fact, the result of great experience, and a 
 thorough acquaintance with all such matters. After a pause, 
 which told Matilda quite as plainly as any words could have 
 done, that her news had almost annihilated him, he said, 
 "Isitpssible?" 
 
 " It is indeed ! " she replied, with expressive emphasis. 
 Another pause followed. 
 
 " In what part of that vast wilderness will you be hid, my 
 dear Miss Matilda ? " said the Lieutenant, with a truly miUtary 
 sigh. 
 
 " We live at Brompton," was the softly-whispered reply. 
 " Of course, our Mends, the O'Donagoughs, will always 
 know where you are? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes," she answered, while her heart was torn by 
 conflicting joy at this proof that he meant to inquire for her, 
 and grief at perceiving that whatever might be his future 
 intentions, there was for the present no hope whatever of a 
 declaration. 
 
 Such being too clearly the case, and the rain now falling in 
 such torrents that Patty and Mr. Willis had taken to their 
 heels and ran home (not without a Kttle joking upon the 
 tete-a-tete at the pier -head) — such being the case. Miss Matilda 
 Perkins made up her mind to turn round and walk home like- 
 wise. But even, in that wet, dirty, dismal moment, hope 
 
202 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 lingered at her heart, and she determined to try what one 
 honest, open, unmitigated look of tenderness might produce. 
 The circumstances of her position were favourable to the experi- 
 ment, for the " plentiful moisture " which encumbered her hair 
 gave her face a sort of forlorn and melancholy look, of which 
 she was not wholly unconscious, and which she thought might 
 serve her better at such a moment than the tightest curls. But, 
 alas! there are some natures upon which the innocent little 
 trickeries and pearly tears of tender woman faU like soft dew- 
 drops on the sturdy oak. They may gUtter about it ; nay, 
 sometimes shine almost like a glory around its lofty crest, but 
 not a fibre is moved thereby. 
 
 Nothing could be more expressive, more intelligible, more 
 heart-searching than was this look of Matilda Perkins — ^but it 
 was in vain. As well might cannon be expected to startle a 
 well-trained charger, as suck a look to shake the firmness of 
 Lieutenant Foxoroft. 
 
 This is a subject painful to dwell upon ; and it is enough to 
 say that the two sisters departed by the stage on the morning 
 appointed, without carrying with them any consolation whatever 
 for the imprudent purchase of the blue silk-gown. 
 
 CHAPTER XrX. 
 
 Another six weeks completed the period for which Mr. 
 O'Donagough considered it advisable to remain at Brighton, 
 and due notice was given to his lady and daughter that they 
 were to pack up their faded finery and be ready for starting. 
 The O'Donagough policy as to the most advantageous mode of 
 performing a journey, had not undergone any alteration since 
 their arrival, and therefore, exactly the same process was gone 
 through to restore them to the metropolis as that which had 
 brought them from it. Having chosen rather a late coach, 
 they reached the renowned White Bear in very proper time 
 for dinner ; but Mr. O'Donagough, for reasons of Ms own, pre- 
 ferred ordering limcheon, after which he once more set out in 
 quest of a home for himself and his family. His absence upon 
 this occasion was very short, for it being the latter end of 
 October, lodgings were not difficult to find ; and in less time 
 than it would have taken most people to think about it, he had 
 packed himself, his lady, his daughter, and all their baggage 
 into a hackney-coach. 
 
 " You must neither grunt nor grumble, turn sulky nor look 
 cross," said Mr. O'Donagough, as soon as the vehicle drove off, 
 " if you don't happen to like the lodgings I have got for you. 
 
A DOMICILIAKYjCOMTKAST. 203 
 
 They are cheap, and that's the reason I take them. I don't 
 intend that you should either see or be seen much for the next 
 two months or so, and I desire that you will make up your 
 minds to it at once." 
 
 " What does he say, mamma ? " inquired the terrified Patty, 
 turning to her mother ; for what with the wheels, and the 
 steps, and the windows, she had heard this speech but very 
 imperfectly. "What does papa say about our not being- 
 seen '? " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Patty,'' being the only answer she 
 received, the young lady turned to the window, let down the 
 glass, and for the next five minutes found great consolation 
 from meditating on the impossibility of not being seen, if she 
 hved in a place where such throngs filled the streets as were 
 then jostling each other before her eyes. At the end of that 
 time, the equipage stopped at the door of a small private housfe 
 in one of the narrow streets that steal away and hide them- 
 selves right and left of the splendours of Regent-street. The 
 aspect of the dwelling was not very inviting from without, nor 
 was the prospect greatly improved when the door opened and 
 displayed its size, colour, and various other properties within. 
 But Mrs. O'Donagough entered, and neither " grunted nor 
 grumbled, turned sulky nor looked cross." Her whole manner 
 and appearance indicated the triumph of reflection over im- 
 pulse, and of wisdom over weakness. She quietly followed the 
 dirty Uttle maid who opened for her the front-parlour door and 
 permitted her eye to take a catalogue of all it contained, with- 
 out suffering her tongue to utter a syllable of commentary 
 thereon. 
 
 Not so Miss Patty. The contrast between this dwelling 
 and that she had left at Brighton was " too much for her 
 strength," and she exclaimed, in no whispered accents — 
 
 " Mercy upon us, mamma ! You don't mean that we should 
 live here ? " 
 
 Fortunately, Mr. O'Donagough was at that moment wholly 
 occupied in assisting the coachman to drag their trunks and 
 boxes into the narrow passage, which they so completely filled 
 that he was induced to offer the man an additional sixpence upon 
 condition of his " giving him a hand " to get them up stairs 
 to their sleeping apartments at once, a promptitude of arrange- 
 ment which was rendered expedient from the total impossibihty 
 that any animal more bulky than the dirty httle maid should 
 get in or out of the house without chmbing over them. 
 
 The interval thus occupied gave Mrs. O'Donagough an 
 opportunity of bestowing a few words of very excellent advice 
 upon her daughter. 
 
 " My dear Patty," said she, " there is no doubt in the 
 
204 
 
 THE WIDpW MARRIED. 
 
 ■world that this is the very horridest den that ever man brought 
 a wife and daughter to. And I, too, with such relations as I 
 have ! But you see how I bear it ; and take my word for it, 
 there is no good in contradicting him just at this time ; I am 
 quite sure he has got something or other working in his head 
 that makes it convenient. I don't mean to say but what if he 
 would trust the whole management of everything to me, I might 
 have contrived to do all he wants done, and kept something like 
 comfort about us besides ; but men will be men, Patty, all the 
 world over, worse luck ! " 
 
 To all this Patty made no other reply than a grunt. 
 
 The evening passed, as such evenings generally do. A 
 family group placed in lodgings of which females greatly dis- 
 approve, but which, being chosen by the male, must be endured, 
 seldom manifest any striking symptoms of hilarity. 
 
 Fortunately, however, Patty was very sleepy ; and fortu- 
 nately too, perhaps, Mrs. O'Donagough remembered that she 
 had more than one box to open before all the nightcaps could be 
 found ; so it did not last long, and before ten o'clock the eyes of 
 the whole party were closed in sleep, as sound as the circum- 
 stances of their location were hkely to permit. 
 
 Poor Patty's boasted beauty did not show to advantage the 
 next morning, and, to do Mr. Allen O'Donagough justice, it 
 must be confessed that he looked at her with some concern. But 
 as his wife had very correctly observed, he had sometliing work- 
 ing in his head which rendered their remaining in obscurity for 
 a month or two exceedingly convenient ; and, therefore, being 
 a man of considerable firmness of purpose, he had not the 
 shghtest intention of altering lis plans, though he perceived 
 that one of the bright eyes he so much admired was almost hid 
 by the sweUing which distressed her cheek, and the other as duU, 
 dim, and heavy as if the light which usually blazed within it had 
 been suddenly put out. 
 
 But, notwithstanding the steadiness with which he retained 
 his resolution of keeping the ladies of his family in this perfect 
 retirement, he yet felt good-humouredly disposed to support the 
 young lady's spirits under it if he could, and therefore, while 
 her mother was engaged in the rooms above, he drew a chair 
 towards the recess beside the fire-place, where, in a slippery, 
 tall, horsehair arm-chair, poor Patty sat ensconced, and thus 
 addressed her : — 
 
 " You don't hke this so well as our gay lodgings at Brighton, 
 do you, darling?" 
 
 "What d'ye ask that for, papa? "replied the young lady; "I 
 should think you might guess, without my telhng you." 
 
 ' ' And so I can, Patty. But you can't guess, rU bet a guinea 
 you can't, what's going to happen to you next." 
 
FINE PROSPECTS FOR PATTY. 205 
 
 The telling such a young lady as Patty that " something is 
 going to happen to her," almost invariably suggests the idea 
 that she is abo\it to be married ; and so it was in the present 
 case. The swelhng on her cheek did not — ^for, alas ! it could 
 not — disappear in a moment, but all other obscurations of her 
 beauty vanished, as she exclaimed, " Good gracious, papa ! what 
 can you mean ? " 
 
 "What have you got in your head now, Patty?" replied her 
 father, laughing. " You don't think I'm going to give you a 
 husband, do you ? " 
 
 " How should I know ?" returned the pouting Patty. 
 
 " No, my darling, it is not that yet," said he, assuming a 
 more serious air ; "I wouldn't, for more than PU say, that my 
 girl should be mated before she has got her best feathers on. 
 You shall be something, and somebody, I can tell you, before I 
 have done. But then you must let me manage matters my own 
 way, my dear. I have had great misfortunes in my time, Patty, 
 or I might have been as rich and as grand as Mr. Stephenson, 
 and that was the reason why I went over to such a cheap and 
 prosperous country as Austraha. But things are going better 
 with me now again, and if you'll be a good girl, and wait 
 patiently, without any expense, till the proper season for 
 gaiety begins, you shall see what I will do for you ; and it is 
 not giving up much, either, for there is not a single soul in 
 London now." 
 
 " My goodness, papa, how you do talk !" replied the indig- 
 nant Patty, more affected by this last statement than by any- 
 thing which had preceded it. " Why, 'twas a perfect crowd 
 that we drove through last night ; and if you would but take 
 lodgings in some street where I could look out of the window 
 and see the people, I should not care for anything, almost." 
 
 " You are too humble-minded by half, my darling," rephed 
 Mr. O'Donagough, chucking her under the chin. " Youshan't 
 only look at the people, but all the people shall look at you, if 
 you'U let me have my way without grumbling. The people you 
 saw last night, Patty, were nothing but a parcel of clerks and 
 milliners' girls, who have no longer anything to do in their shops, 
 because all the fine folks are out of town." 
 
 " I don't care what they were," replied his daughter, with 
 great animation ; "I am sure they were as handsome and 
 elegant-looking as possible ; and at any rate it must be better 
 to see them than that nasty old dustman there, with his horrid 
 bell." 
 
 "Patty!" said her father, gravely, "you are not half so 
 quick and clever as I fancied you were. I thought I had 
 made you understand how being careful and saving at one 
 time, could enable one to be grand and gay at another. 
 
206 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 But you talk now like a mere cliild, and if you go on so I 
 must treat you as such. I suppose you really are not old 
 enough yet to comprehend the advantage of this sort of ma- 
 nagement." 
 
 " Yes, but I am, though,'' replied Patty, tartly ; " and I'll 
 be bound for it, if you would tell me, just once for aB, what you 
 will give us to spend in a year, I'd manage to show oflf with it 
 quite as well as you, and never set us down in such a nasty, dark, 
 dull place as this, neither." 
 
 '■'■Just once for all, Patty, won't do for me. There is no 
 need to enter with you into any long explanation concerning 
 my affairs. Girls can't possibly understand the subject, nor 
 women either, for that matter, because they are never brought 
 up to it. So I hope neither your mother nor you will torment 
 me with any questions, but be contented with what you can 
 get, and thankful that you belong to a man who never leaves a 
 stone unturned if he thinks he can find money under it." 
 
 " But I suppose I may walkout, sir? " said the httle-pleased 
 Patty, almost'blubbering. 
 
 " Yes, you may walk, but I should very strongly recommend 
 you both not to show yourselves now, pranked out just as I 
 hope you will appear when I am receiving lords and baronets at 
 my house — ^you will do yourselves a monstrous deal of harm by 
 it, I can tell you. But I believe it is easier to stop the wind 
 from blowing, than a woman's ribbons from flapping." 
 
 At this moment Mrs. O'Donagough entered the room, and 
 instantly perceiving from the countenance of the young lady 
 that something was wrong, she ventured to say in an accent 
 which did not manifest any decided determination to take part 
 with either, 
 
 " What's the matter now? " 
 
 " I have only been giving Miss Patty a hint or two as to the 
 patient endurance of a cheap lodging, tiU I see right and fit to 
 put her into a dear one," said Mr. O'Donagough. 
 
 " You had better leave her to me, Donny," replied his lady; 
 " whatever I teU her is right, that she wiU do." 
 
 " That's more than I'll promise, unless I happen to Hke it," 
 said Patty, recovering her vivacity, and giving so saucy a wink 
 with the eyelid still under her command, as to throw her father 
 into an ecstasy of laughter. 
 
 " Come, come, that's all right again ; if my beauty does not 
 get into the sulks, we shall get through the next two or three 
 months in no time, and then you shall blaze away, both of you, 
 as you never blazed before," said Mr. O'Donagough ; adding in 
 a rather mysterious tone, " You have no notion yet, either of 
 you, what I have got in my head to do for your pleasure and 
 profit. But if I hear any grumbling it will spoil all, mind 
 
RESIGNATION. 207 
 
 that. If you trouble me now, or ever, with questions— observe, 
 I speak to both of you alike — ^if you trouble me now or ever 
 with any questions whatever, about my goings on, or what I 
 mean to do, or what I mean not to do, by Jove, I'll take myself 
 off! You are able to get at your own money now, my Bar- 
 naby," he continued, in an accent of perfect good-humour, " as 
 well as before you married me, and I give you credit for your 
 cleverness ; but one advantage of this is, you know, that you 
 can do without me. Now, don't fancy, either of you, that I am 
 angry, or want to get rid of you — for I don't^quite the 
 contrary. If things go as I wish, my wife and daughter Avill 
 count for something. So come and kiss me, Patty, and remem- 
 ber that the better you behave, the smarter you shall be when 
 the fine folks come to town- again." 
 
 It would have been difficult for Mr. O'Donagough, or any 
 gentleman under similar circumstances, to have pronounced an 
 harangue more calculated to obtain the objects he desired. Had 
 he scolded, they would probably have scolded again ; had he 
 blustered, they might have rebelled ; but promises, threats, and 
 mystery together, formed a chain most admirably calculated to 
 lead ladies captive ; and even before any opportunity had been 
 given for them to consult together, both mother and daughter 
 had respectively made up their minds to behave well. 
 
 " I think I wiU sit down at once to my satin stitch, Patty," 
 said Mrs. O'Donagough ; " it's always wrong to waste time. 
 That cloak will be perfectly magnificent, if ever I live to finish 
 it, and it is Kkely enough that it may be useful to you, or to 
 me, one of these days. And if I was you, darhng, I'd set about 
 turning that pretty green silk dress that the sea faded so abomi- 
 nably ; it will look as good as new, Patty, if you do the job 
 nicely." 
 
 " Yes, I wUl," replied Patty almost meekly, and dutifully 
 turning her steps towards the door to seek the employment 
 suggested ; but before she opened it, she ventured to turn her 
 head and say, " Do you think, mamma, we shall be able to get 
 any novels to read ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, my dear, I don't know," was Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's discreet reply, glancing at the same time a look 
 of civil inquiry towards her husband. 
 
 " Novels? — To be sure you may ; lots," rephedMr. O'Dona- 
 gough, gaily. " I'm going out, and if you'll sit down to your 
 needles, I'll find out the nearest circulating-library for you, and 
 subscribe for three months." 
 
 " And wiU you bring back something, papa," said Patty, 
 yawning, as she turned her eyes towards the one window, which, 
 though it commanded an uninterrupted view of the window 
 opposite, had httle else to recommend it. 
 
208 THB WIDOW MAEKIED. 
 
 " I will if I can — but you must not expect me directly ; I 
 have too much to do to turn errand-boy just now, my beauty. 
 You and your mother can stitch together for an hour or two, I 
 know, without coming to the end of your talk. Why, you have 
 got to hash up all that happened at Brighton ; and when that's 
 done and over, you may begin upon what you shall do, and 
 'what you shall say, and what you shall put on some three 
 months hence, when you will be Hving in style and state again," 
 rephed Mr. O'Donagough. 
 
 Patty shrugged her shoulders, but left the room without a 
 word ; strong evidence that his judicious eloquence had not been 
 tlu'own away upon her. When she returned to it with thimble, 
 needles, cotton-box, and scissors in one hand, and a huge mass 
 of miscellaneous trumpery in the other, she found her mamma 
 alone, and already deeply occupied by the magnificent cloak. 
 
 " Pray do you intend to bear this, mamma ? " said Patty, as 
 soon as she had drawn forward the only movable table in the 
 room, and placed it near the window. " Do you really intend 
 to go on bearing this quietly ? " 
 
 " Bear it ? How am I to help bearing it ? " rephed Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, sharply. " As if you did not know, girl, that I 
 have no more power to help myseK than this needle has. Where 
 I choose to push it there it must go ; and where he chooses to 
 put us, there we must stay ; and if you know any cure for it, I 
 hope you will tell me, that's all. Ain't these leaves perfect, 
 Patty ? " 
 
 " I am sure I shall hang myself if it is to last for three 
 months," rejoined her daughter, without indicating the least 
 emotion at sight of the perfect satin-stitch. " Mind ! I give you 
 fair warning, mother ; I shall either hang myself or nm away." 
 
 " And pray. Miss Patty, why do you not tell your papa so, 
 instead of trying to bother me worse than I am bothered 
 already ? " demanded Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 " Why, just because you are the gentleman's wife, ma'am, 
 and ought to be able to manage him, to be sure," rephed Patty. 
 " But do you think if I was to fall sick, it might do any good ? " 
 she added very gravely. 
 
 " No, my dear, not the least in the world ; " replied her 
 mother. " He's tiresome enough, and tyrant enough too, 
 sometimes ; but to give him his due, I don't believe that what 
 he is doing now is for the sake of teasing us. 'I am sure he 
 means to blaze away, as he says, by-and-by, in fine style ; and 
 I don't know but he's right, Patty, after all ; for Pd rather, 
 ten times over, Uve hugger-mugger fashion, as we are now, if 
 it's only to last for a time, and then show off afterwards, than 
 go on, on, for ever the same, just decent and respectable, and 
 never making people wonder or admire from first to last." 
 
EXTREME MEA8TJEES THREATENED. 209 
 
 " Ay, ay, mamma, that's all very true, and I understand it 
 just as ■well as you do ; "but you'll please to remember that I'm 
 in my teens, and that vhat's mighty easy to you, is just like 
 death and distraction to me. Mercy upon me ! only fancy me 
 staying on, for tliree months at one go, in a dark linen frock, 
 and without a man, young or old, tall or short, handsome or 
 ugly, to look at me. I know I can't bear it — I know I shall 
 be after some prank or other to help myself." 
 
 " I wish you would mind what you are about, Patty, and 
 not talk so wild," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, who, with the 
 increasing wisdom of advancing age, was able to pursue her 
 work tranquilly, even though she too was in a dark hnen dress, 
 and conscious that under her present circumstances, she could 
 look neither hke the beauty she had been, nor the woman of 
 fashion she was. " I wish, Patty," said she, " that you would be 
 more steady at your work. Kemember, my dear, that you are 
 growing taller and stouter every day ; and if you don't mind, 
 you'll notch these turnings in so, in the unpicking, that you'll 
 never be able to make the frock up again big enough to get into. 
 Do mind what you are about." 
 
 " rU tell you what, ma'am," replied the lively girl, " if you 
 take to scolding, I'm off. I'll be hanged if I won't walk up and 
 down the street before the door, if you make this little pig sty 
 too hot to hold me." And so saying, she pushed her work from 
 her, and throwing up the dusty sash, thrust out her head to 
 reconnoitre the promenade to which she threatened to betake 
 herself. 
 
 " My 'goodness ! " she exclaimed, drawing it back again, after 
 taking a melancholy survey up the street and down the street ; 
 " what a nasty hideous hole we are got into ! The air smells of 
 nothing but dust, and there isn't a soul to be seen except an old 
 man driving a cabbage cart, and two dogs drawing a barrow 
 with dirty rags and old bottles in it." Yet even these objects 
 appeared to have more attraction for the weary Patty, than the 
 operation of dress-turning ; for again she thurst forward her 
 head, and remained for some minutes without changing her 
 attitude. At length she drew back a step, wliile such a blush 
 suffused her fair and ample cheeks as might have convinced her 
 mamma, had she chanced to look up, that something besides the 
 cabbage-cart and the wheelbarrow had met her eye. At the 
 same moment a short, sharp knock at the door was keenly 
 audible through the open window. 
 
 " That's your father come back, I suppose," said Mrs. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 " No, it isn't," replied Patty. 
 
 " Did you see who it was then? " demanded her mother. 
 
 " I saw it was a man, and nqt a bit like papa," responded tlie 
 
 N 
 
210 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 young lady in a whisper, and at the same moment she went to 
 the parlour-door and partially opened it, so as to permit her 
 peeping out without being herself seen. 
 
 " He must be the first-floor lodger, for he came in and went 
 straight up stairs without saying a word," said Patty, retreating 
 from the door with her face in a blaze ; " and pretty well he 
 squinted at our door as he passed ; but I'm sure he saw nothing 
 of me but my nose." 
 
 " I suppose he saw you through the window, miss," said her 
 mamma ; " but you mustn't stare out into the street that way in 
 London, I can tell you." 
 
 " That's because the street is so monstrous gay, I suppose," 
 replied her daughter. " Hadn't you better put me on blinkers, 
 mamma ? " 
 
 " Come, come, Patty, shut down the window, and settle 
 quietly to your work, or upon my Kfe and honour I'll tell your 
 father what a plague you are," said Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 And much good you'll get by that, won't you, mamma? " re- 
 plied Patty. " However, I'll settle down presently if you won't 
 make a fuss ; but I must go up stairs first, for I have forgot 
 something ;" and so saying, she ran out of the room without 
 waiting for a reply. 
 
 The heiress of Mr. O'Donagough was no great songstress ; 
 but, for some reason or other, she took it into her head to be 
 musical, as she walked deliberately up the stairs, singing 
 " Cherry ripe," very distinctly, if not very skilfully ; and the 
 consequence was, that just as she reached the first-floor landing, 
 the door of the front room opened, and a tall olive-oolom'ed 
 man, with enormous black eyes, and a prodigious quantity of 
 hair to match, became visible at it. 
 
 Patty started, ceased her song, somewhat hastened her step, 
 and passed on, but not so rapidly as to be unconscious of her 
 fellow-lodger's politeness ; for he bowed profoundly, and looked 
 at her with his widely-opened great eyes, as if he admired her 
 very much. On reaching her own apartment, which was the 
 back-room of the second -floor, she seated herself with some degree 
 of agitation on her trunk. " Lord, how I wish Matilda Perkins 
 was here ! " murmured Patty, as soon as she had, in some degree, 
 recovered her breath and her composure. " I'll bet a guinea 
 she'd make a good guess in a minute as to what sort of chap 
 that is — what eyes! He's as dark as an Indian, but he's 
 monstrous handsome for all that, and I'm sure he's a gentleman 
 from his bowing so beautifully." This soliloquy was thought, 
 not spoken ; and it was silently that Patty sat 
 
 Kevolviug in her altered soul 
 
 the possibility of amusing herself, even there, if she could but 
 
PATTY BECOMES SERIOUS. 211 
 
 get at her dear friend to help her. After a few moments thus 
 spent, she arose, determined to attack her mother and her father 
 too, firmly and with proper spirit, on the absolute necessity of 
 her having somebody to speak to, and the atrocity of which they 
 would be guilty, if they would not give her leave to set off that 
 very day for Belle- Vue-terrace, Brompton, in search of her 
 friend Matilda. 
 
 In pursuance of this resolution, she re-entered the parlour 
 with a slow and steady step, which had something grave and 
 determined in it. She seated herself silently at the table, 
 resumed her work, and for some minutes remained opening 
 seams, and picking out threads so demurely, that her mother, 
 though at that moment particularly engaged in newly adjusting 
 her pattern, looked up to see what she was about ; but perceiving 
 her serious air, only said, " There's a good girl, just keep on in 
 that way till dinner-time, and the worse part of your job wiU 
 be over." 
 
 " Mamma ! " said Patty, solemnly, " I am not thinking of 
 my job." 
 
 " And why not, for goodness' sake ? I'm sure you can think 
 of nothing better, Patty. How beautiful the colour is where 
 the sun hasn't come ! You'U have a lovely frock again, if you 
 will only take a little pains." 
 
 "It is no good to talk tome of frocks and colours," said 
 Patty, in a voice of sedate melancholy, " while you are making 
 me as miserable as you do now. I am quite sure I shall do 
 some mischief to myself if you and papa persevere to keep me on 
 in this way, without a single soul to speak to. I tell you fairly, 
 mamma, I can't bear it, and I won't." 
 
 " What do you expect to get by flying at me, Patty? " said 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, with considerable symptoms of irritation. 
 
 "It is no good putting yourself in a passion, mamma," 
 rephed Patty, with very impressive quietness. " I am sure I 
 am in no passion myself. What I feel has nothing to do with 
 temper, or anything of the kind. I have been thinking very 
 seriously about it. Everybody must know themselves better 
 than anybody else can know them, and I feel quite sure that I 
 shall not Uve, or at any rate that I shall go out of my senses, if 
 papa goes on with me in this way. I dare say there are many 
 people who could bear it better than I can, and I am sure I wish 
 that I was hke them, for papa's sake, and for yours, for I don't 
 want to vex either of you — but I am as nature made me, you 
 know, and I can't help it.'' 
 
 "Good gracious, Patty! How grave and solemn you do 
 talk ! " cried Mrs. O'Donagough, looking up at her with all the 
 surprise, and some of the alarm which the young lady had 
 intended to produce. " What on earth would you have me do, 
 
 N 2' 
 
212 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 my dear? I would wish to be as watchful OTer you as ever 
 mother was — ^I never did think of myself at any time of my 
 life — everybody that ever knew me would do me the justice to 
 Bay that, and it is hardly hkely that I should be less generous 
 and devoted to my own daughter \than to other people ; but I 
 no more know how to get you out of this place, before your 
 father chooses to take you, than I know how to turn copper 
 into gold." , ' 
 
 "It is not altogether the place that I hate so much, 
 mamma," rephed Patty ; " I dare say I should have sense 
 enough to get the better of that ; but it is the being so dreadful- 
 dull and solitary, without a single friend in the world to speak 
 to. I should be perfectly contented if you would only let me 
 go and see Matilda Perkins." 
 
 " I am sure, my dear Patty, I should have no objection if it 
 depended only upon me — ^though I can't say but what I should 
 feel a little small at being seen in such a place as this by people 
 who have met General Plubert at my house. However, I could 
 easily make up my mind to bear that for your sake, my dear — 
 and I can't but say it would be a comfort and some sort of 
 relief, too, for me to have that good creature, Louisa, to speak 
 to now and then, especially if your father would let me tell her 
 that we were going to be dashing again by and by. But how 
 can I tell what he may say to it, Patty ? All I can do is to 
 promise I'll be no spoke in your wheel, and if he chooses to ask 
 my opinion, I'll take care it shall go the right way." 
 
 " I'm not going to ask you, mamma," responded Patty, with 
 a deep sigh. "I have made up my mind to speak to papa 
 myself, and I know perfectly well what I shall say to him. But 
 I suppose it will be hours before he comes back. I wish you 
 would put up your work just for a few minutes, mamma, 
 and take a turn with me up and down the street. I'm sure I 
 don't care about going any further ; I only want a little air. 
 Don't you think it is very close here ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do, indeed — and when I think of poor dear 
 Brighton, I positively feel half choked. I really think a little 
 walk will do us bof^h good ; " and Mrs. O'Donagough began to 
 roU up her work. 
 
 " Very well, then," cried Patty, briskly, " I'h run up and put 
 my things on." And tliis time, as she mounted the stairs, she 
 sang the merrier roundelay of 
 
 I won't be a nun — I can't be a nun. 
 
 I am so fond of pleasure thit I must not bo a nun. 
 
 Again a manly step was heard to traverse the little drawing- 
 room, again the door opened, and once more the olive-coloured 
 stranger appeared at it, respectfuUy bowing, as before, when he 
 
THE INCOGNITO LAID ASIDE. 213 
 
 beheld the young lady passing before it. On perceiving this, 
 Patty felt convinced that in common civility she was hound to 
 return the salutation ; and she did so by smiHng, blushing, 
 shaking her curls, and bowing her head. A quarter of this 
 abounding gratitude would have sufficed to assure the Spanish 
 language-master, for such he was, that not alone the bright 
 valleys of his own sunny land were peopled by dark- browed and 
 very benignant young kdies, but that even the chilling blasts 
 of the north could not prevent the effect of a wondering 
 Hidalgo's eyes, if he did but know how to use them. 
 
 Having gained her apartment, Patty placed herself before 
 the glass, and laughed at her own blushing image there, as she 
 recollected the looks of profound respect and admiration which 
 it had just caDed forth. She waited not to consult her mamma, 
 as to which of her three bonnets she had best put on, lest her 
 father's doctrine respecting the ehgibility of occasionally adopt- 
 ing the obscure incognito style, should be pleaded in mitigation 
 of feathers and flowers ; and long enough before Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough's majestic person had reached the altitude at which she 
 herself stood, Patty was already decked in what she considered 
 as her most becoming finery. 
 
 " Good gracious ! my dear, how smart you are ! I had no 
 notion you meant to put on your best bonnet. I am sure if 
 your father sees us, we shall catch it. You know what his 
 notions are about that matter, Patty," said the dutiful wife and 
 watchful mother. 
 
 " I don't care a straw what his notions are, mamma," re- 
 pUed her daughter. " When I have got a good thing I shall 
 wear it whenever I think fit. You don't suppose that papa 
 intends to make such a Bessy Dingle of himself as to tell us 
 every morning what clothes we are to put on before night, do 
 you?" 
 
 " My goodness, Patty, how you do chop and change about ! " 
 exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough. " Have I not heard you tell 
 him over and over that you admired his plan of being shabby, 
 and saving when we were out of sight ? " 
 
 "Well; and so I do," answered Patty, colouring a little. 
 " But in London one can never be sure that one is quite out of . 
 sight, you know." 
 
 Not aware how special an observation this was, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough permitted it to produce considerable effect ; for 
 she laid aside a shabby old shawl in which she was about to 
 envelop herself, and substituted one of scarlet, which had been 
 purchased expressly for the Brighton campaign. And now, 
 being fully equipped, they set off ; Patty descending the stairs 
 not only without singing, but without suffering the patter of 
 her feet to be as audible as usual ; nevertheless the ohve-tinted 
 
214 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 stranger, who seemed to be the most watchful and attentive of 
 language-masters, heard enough to bring him to his door, and 
 somewhat to the young lady's dismay, his dark visage and enor- 
 mous eyes appeared exactly at the moment when Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough was passing it. 
 
 It seemed that the encountering an old lady instead of a 
 young one was more than the gentleman's nerves could stand, 
 for he instantly stepped back and closed the door. " There is 
 some truth in what you say, Patty, about London. One never 
 can teU who may be there, and who may not. I am monstrous 
 glad I have got my scarlet shawl on," were the words uttered 
 by Mrs. O'Donagough, as she descended to the street-door ; but 
 they did not aU reach the ear of her daughter, and the gentle 
 damsel nestled to the side of her parent, as they commenced 
 their walk, eager to hear the observations which the apparition 
 of the sable head might give rise to. 
 
 " He must be an African or a Chinese, Patty, or something 
 of that distant kind I should guess," resumed Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 as they walked on ; " y et I can 't, for my Uf e, help thinking that he 
 is monstrous handsome, though he is so near being ablackamore. 
 Did you get a peep at him ? " 
 
 " At who, mamma ? " said Patty, innocently. 
 
 " At the lodger on the first floor, my dear. Didn't you see 
 the door open as we came down ? " 
 
 " I suppose it was while I was running up stairs for my 
 pocket handkerchief," replied Patty. 
 
 "Well, then, you must contrive to see him some day or 
 other, child, for it is the most remarkable face I ever beheld ; I 
 should not wonder to hear anybody say that he was horridly 
 frightful, and yet for the life of me I can't help thinking him 
 monstrously handsome." 
 
 " I am sure, mamma, I should like to see him of aU things," 
 replied her daughter ; " but I don't know how. I can't walk 
 into his room, you know." 
 
 " Lor-a-mercy, no ! " returned the mother, with great ani- 
 mation. " I beg and desire, Patty, that you won't speak 
 in any such flighty way about Mm. I am quite certain he 
 is not the sort of person for any nonsense of that kind. K 
 he lodges in the house, you wiU be sure to see him, sooner 
 or later, I dare say, without playing any mad pranks to 
 contrive it." 
 
 Patty received this rebuke in sUence, and walked on. It 
 had been her intention, when inviting her mamma to take the 
 air, to cross the street, and parade up and down leisurely on the 
 other side of it ; thereby giving an opportunity to the fu?st-floor 
 gentleman to see them out of the window if he hked it ; but she 
 was too sensible a girl to persevere in this project now, and 
 
PATTY STUDIES HEK PART. 215 
 
 tliey languidly pursued tlieir way to Regent-street, first stream- 
 ing along to the top of it, and then down again. 
 
 Nothing could be a greater proof that the mind of the fair 
 Patty was preoccupied than tlie indifference with which she 
 gazed into the shop-windows ; but with her mother it was other- 
 wise. Notwithstanding the stifling heat and dust of a fine 
 October day in I.rondon, Mrs. O'Donagough's energies aU re- 
 turned, as she contemplated the glories, faded and waning as 
 they were, which every step presented to her view. "Oh, 
 Patty! " she exclaimed at length, " what are you thinking of? 
 Did you ever in all your days see anything so heavenly beauti- 
 ful as these shops. Just look at those coloured musUns ! How 
 they do make one long ! Don't they ? " 
 
 " To be sure they do," replied Patty, roused at last, and 
 throwing, as it were, all her recovered soul through the plate- 
 glass barrier that separated her from the objects in question. 
 '' But it makes one sick and miserable to look at them without 
 a single sixpence in one's pocket. I declare I'd rather be dead 
 than going on as I am now ! " This melancholy reflection, and 
 her own pathetic expression of it, recalled to the memory of the 
 fair mourner the necessity of managing ably her projected attack 
 upon the heart of her father ; and no sooner did she think of 
 this, than the injury which her gay dress might produce, should 
 they chance to meet him, struck her forcibly. 
 
 " Let us go home now, mamma," said she, in a tone of great 
 depression and fatigue. " Upon my word I am so tired, I can 
 hardly stand." Mrs. O'Donagough could willingly have walked 
 and gazed a while longer, but she yielded to this urgent en- 
 treaty, and they returned in time for Patty to prepare herself 
 for the reception of her papa. 
 
 There was considerable cleverness displayed in her manner 
 of doing this. She knew she could not turn pale, and she was 
 very sorry for it; but all she could do, she did. She pushed 
 back her redundant looks behind her ears, and made them hang 
 as disconsolately as their nature would permit ; she practised 
 before the glass a sort of heavy, heart-broken look, dressed her- 
 self in a dirty faded suit, and then crept down stairs so quietly 
 as to escape the keen ears of the Spaniard, whom she by no 
 means wished to encounter in such a trim. Having placed 
 herself in an attitude of great weariness and dejection, she 
 awaited her father's return in such pertinacious stillness that 
 she very nearly feU asleep ; but he entered at a favourable mo- 
 ment, real heaviness assisting that which was assumed, and 
 giving her the appearance of being in a very deplorable condi- 
 tion. 
 
 "Mercy on me, Patty! what's the matter with you?" 
 exclaimed Mr. O'Donagough. " I hope," he added, turning to 
 
216 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 his wife, '-that she is not going to have the smallpox, or 
 measles, or anything of that sort ! Have you got a head-ache, 
 my dear ? " 
 
 " Yes, papa, my head aches very bad," rephed Patty, in a 
 gentle voice. " I believe people have always got the head-ache 
 when they are as miserable as me ! " 
 
 "Miserable! why what have you been doing to her, Mrs. 
 O'D. ? You haven't been scolding and badgering her, I hope ? 
 You know I don't approve of it, and I won't have it." 
 
 " No, dear papa, that is not it," said Patty, drawing out 
 her pocket-handkerchief, " mamma has nothing whatever to do 
 with it ; but my very heart is broken, at thinking that I am in 
 London, and can't see the only friend I ever had in the world. 
 I should not mind anything if you would only let me go and call 
 upon Matilda Perkins ! " 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough threw a glance round the room, and 
 then at the personal decorations of his wife and daughter. 
 
 " Do you really wish, Patty, to let your friends see you in 
 this changed condition ? " said he, gravely, but without harsh- 
 ness. " When they saw you last, you looked hke a duchess ; 
 and now darling, upon my word you look like her housemaid. 
 Don't you think it would be better to wait till we are up 
 again ? " 
 
 "Wait for three months, papa, without seeing Matilda 
 Perkins ? I am sure it will kill me, I am certain that I can't 
 bear it." And here Patty appUed her handkerchief to her 
 eyes. 
 
 " / wonder any man alive would ever rear a daughter," sang 
 Mr. O'Donagough, laughing, and attempting to withdraw the 
 hankerchief from the bright orbs he so greatly admired. " Come, 
 Patty, don't be a fool ! Look up, and be a good girl, and we'U 
 contrive some way or other about seeing the Perkinses. But I- 
 must not have all my plots and plans spoiled either, mind that, 
 if you please." 
 
 " I am sure I don't want to spoU anything, papa ! " rephed 
 Patty ; " only let me see Matilda^, and I'll tell her anything in 
 the world that you like ! " 
 
 " There's a darling ! Very well, Patty, you shall go with 
 your mother, and call upon them to-morrow morning, if you 
 will ; only you must dress yourselves nice, and tell them that 
 you came into town entirely to see them, for that you are in 
 lodgings at Richmond, till your London house is ready. — No, no, 
 upon second thoughts, you had better say that we are staying 
 with friends at Richmond, or else perhaps they might expect to 
 be invited. Do you understand, Patty? " 
 
 " Yes, papa, perfectly ; and I shall like all that very much ; 
 a great deal better tlmii letting them suppose that wfe are 
 
A SUCCESSFUL PLOT. 217 
 
 actually- living in such a place as this. And nothing can be 
 easier, you know, than telling them exactly whatever you please 
 about it ; only I shan't at all get the sort of comfort I want if 
 I am only to go once, and have no place where I may tell 
 Matilda to call upon me in return." 
 
 " It is my turn now," said Mrs. O'Donagough. " I have 
 not said a word yet ; but if you will listen to me, both of you, 
 I'U engage for it I will manage the business better than either." 
 
 " And hkely enough, too, my Barnaby," gaily replied her 
 husband, who for some reason or other had returned in excellent 
 spii'its. " Likely enough, Patty, she'U beat us both at a plot. 
 So say your say, Mrs. O'D., and let us see how we can contrive 
 to let the beauty have her way without interfering with what 
 I have laid down as firmly as the laws of the Medes and 
 Persians." 
 
 " Well, then, Donny, PU teU you what we must say to the 
 Perkinses. First, we'll begin by letting them know that we 
 have been invited to stay with some very elegant friends at 
 Richmond, and I can put in a word or two about our all enjoy- 
 ing it so very much. And then we'll go on to say that there is 
 but one drawback, which is the inconvenience of the distance 
 from town just at the time when we have so much to do in 
 preparing a house for the winter and spring ; and then I can 
 say that dear Mr. O'Donagough is so dreadfully afraid of my 
 being over-fatigued that he has taken a httle bit of an out-of- 
 the-way lodgings, just for us to sleep in, whenever it happened 
 that we were too much knocked up by a day's shopping to be 
 able to return to Richmond the same night. And then, you 
 know, nothing will be easier, at any time, than to fix a day for 
 their caULng, by saying, come Monday, come Tuesday, for we 
 have made appointments with tradespeople, which will obhge ua 
 to be in town." 
 
 " Well done, Barnaby ! " exclaimed Mr. O'Donagough, 
 slapping her on the back, and laughing heartily. " Isn't your 
 mother a capital hand, Patty ? In that way, my dear, you 
 may see this dear friend of yours, three times in a week, if you 
 like it." 
 
 " And I should not make the least objection,'' observed Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, " to her passing a day or two at a time with 
 them, if they happened to invite her. The change would do 
 her a deal of good, dear creature ; and the Perkinses are such 
 perfectly proper people, that there could be no reason in the 
 world against it." 
 
 This was an idea that made Patty's eyes sparkle again, as 
 brightly as before they were rubbed by her pocket-handkerchief ; 
 and with such a prospect before her, and a dehcious new novel, 
 called " The Doubtful One," to fill up all mental interstices, 
 
218 THE ■WIDOW MAEEIBD. 
 
 when her own meditations had been sufficiently indulged, the 
 day passed away without another sigh or groan being heard 
 from her. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 As Mrs. O'Donagough herself was very little better acquainted 
 with the general localities of London than her young daughter, 
 there were but two methods by -which they could hope to reach 
 the desired bourn of Belle- Vue-terrace, Brompton, in safety ; 
 the one being by the guidance of a haokney-ooachman — ^the 
 other, by that of Mr. O'Donagough. The gentleman preferred 
 the latter, as being the least costly of the two ; only premising 
 before they set out that they should both of them take such heed 
 to their ways as might suffice to direct their return, he having 
 business to do, which made it quite impossible he could remain 
 during their visit. This very reasonable condition was readily 
 agreed to, and the conversation en route consisted chiefly of 
 observations relative to it. 
 
 " Take notice you turn to the right at the bottom of Regent- 
 street." — " Now observe both of you, this is Piccadilly," et cetera, 
 et csetera. 
 
 At length the street and the number indicated in Patty's 
 pocket-book were reached, and their anxious inquiries for the 
 Miss Perkinses answered by the agreeable information that they 
 were at home. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough then departed, and his wife and daughter 
 mounted to the drawing-room. The active grisette of the man- 
 sion, whose hghtest labour was that of gentleman woman-usher 
 to the Miss Perkinses, may be excused if she found the difficulties 
 of the name insurmountable, and annoxmced them as Mrs. and 
 Miss Hodnago. 
 
 The two sisters, who had just had time enough to finish the 
 arrangements, embellishments, and general setting to rights of 
 their little apartment, were sitting very snugly, and in the most 
 lady-hke manner, each at her own separate window, each with 
 a little round-table before her, and each employed upon some 
 sort of necessary and important needlework. 
 
 On hearing the door opened they both looked up, and on 
 hearing the name of Mrs. and Miss Hodnago, they both made a 
 grimace, and ejaculated, 
 * "Who?" 
 
 But ere it could be repeated the glorious vision of their 
 Brighton grandee friend, saihng into the room with all her 
 wonted majesty, and followed by her blooming daughter, met 
 their view ; and in the same instant, both sisters, as if moved by 
 
A PRIVATE INTERVIEW REQUESTED. 219 
 
 springs governed by one wire, clasped their hands, started up, 
 and exclaimed, 
 
 " Oh, goodness ! " 
 
 The only difference was, that the more ardent feelings of the 
 younger propelled her forward with a vehemence which over- 
 turned her httle table, and brought to view a couple of circulat- 
 ing library volumes which had nestled amidst the stockings and 
 friUs with which they were covered. 
 
 Miss Matilda and Patty were, as may be imagined, speedily 
 locked in each other's arms, nor did Mrs. O'Donagough fail to 
 display her habitually caressing propensities ; but, making direct 
 for the slender Louisa, infolded her lank form with an energy 
 that for a moment deprived her of breath. Many and fervent 
 were the exclamations of dehght which were uttered as soon as 
 the hugging was over, and the four ladies seemed to vie with 
 each other in the strength of the epithets by which they ex- 
 pressed their ecstasy at this re-union. For some time the 
 eloquence of each was uttered for the good of all ; but then 
 Patty began to remember the thousand things she had to say 
 which were calculated for the ear of Matilda alone, and she 
 grew fidgety and restless, till she had contrived to draw her 
 confidant to the most distant part of the small apartment ; but 
 even there she was far from being at ease, feehng suspicious that 
 if she spoke loud enough to be heard by her, it was nearly im- 
 possible that the others should not hear her too. 
 
 " Could you not take me into your own room for a minute, 
 Matilda ? " she said, abruptly. 
 
 " Yes, to be sure, dearest ! " replied her faithful friend ; " it 
 is only the next door." 
 
 And arm-in-arm they prepared to leave the apartment 
 together ; when, just as they reached the door, Patty remem- 
 bered that it would be absolutely necessary that Matilda should 
 be made acquainted with the history invented for the entire use 
 and service of herself and her sister, and conscious that she 
 remembered not one-half of it, she suddenly stopped and said, 
 
 " I am going with Matilda into her room for half a minute, 
 mamma ; but I wish, before we go, you would tell them both 
 all about our being in London and out of it, as one may call it, 
 and all the rest of it, you know, mamma, about our beautiful 
 house that we are going to have — because when she and I are 
 together we never speak of anything but our own particular 
 taBi, and yet I should hke for her to know all about it too." 
 
 The quick-witted Mrs. O'Donagough comprehended the 
 state of her daughter's mind in a moment ; and equally pleased 
 by her prudence, and the opportunity it gave herself of indulging 
 a little in the imaginative style of narrative in which she de- 
 lighted, she replied, briskly, 
 
220 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " To be sure I will ! 1 want to tell them both exactly how 
 we are situated. Sit down, dear Matilda, for one minute, and 
 then you shall run oif with Patty, if you will." 
 
 Matilda expressed, with the warmest gratitude, her earnest 
 desire to hear everything she would be pleased to have the kind- 
 ness to say ; and seating herself close by Patty, took loving 
 possession of her arm, while Mrs. O'Donagough explained " her 
 situation," as she called it, a;s follows : — 
 
 " The fact is, my dear girls," she began, " we want, like 
 many other people of some httle consequence in this fooHsh 
 world, to be in two places at once ; and the consequence is, that 
 we can hardly be said to be positively in either. A family of 
 high fashion, distant relations of the Huberts, and therefore of 
 mine, have taken for the summer a magnificent place near 
 Kiohmond, and nothing wiU content them but that Mr. 
 O'Donagough, myself, and Patty should pass a month or two 
 with them there. Now most assuredly nothing on earth could 
 be more agreeable than this proposal, if it were not that we 
 have such an immense deal of business upon our hands, in con- 
 sequence of our determination to take a house, and furnish it 
 from top to bottom. Mr. O'Donagough is a man of great taste, 
 and perhaps rather too fond of magnificence ; and I therefore 
 feel it to be absolutely necessary, and quite a duty for me to be 
 with him when he is ordering everything ; for if I am not, I 
 feel sure that he wiH be running into immoderate expense. Not 
 that I have the least wish to prevent his having everything ex- 
 ceedingly elegant about him ; a man of his family and fortune, 
 of course, has a right to it, and Heaven forbid that I should 
 wish to prevent it ; only, you know, my dears, that there is 
 nothing hke a prudent wife for keeping a man out of mischief 
 when he happens to have a decided taste for expense. So I 
 have told O'Donagough fairly, that I will not give my consent 
 to his taking the house, or purchasing any of the furniture, , 
 particularly the mirrors, chandehers, and so forth, unless I am 
 with him. And I have promised, delightful as our home at 
 Richmond is, that I will constantly come to town once or twice 
 a week for this purpose ; and this promise I am determined to 
 keep, however troublesome it may be. But poor, dear fellow ! 
 he is so excessively kind and affectionate, that he cannot endure 
 the idea of my over-fatiguing myself; and if you wiU believe 
 me, he has actually taken a httle bit of a lodging, where Patty 
 and I may have a bed whenever we feel too tired with our 
 morning's shopping to return with pleasure to our gay party at 
 Richmond. Is not this kind and thoughtful of him ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! it's quite beautiful ! " exclaimed Miss Louisa, 
 fervently. 
 
 " What a husband ! " exclaimed Matilda, with a sigh. . 
 
PARTICULAR QUERIES. 221 
 
 " I do assure you, my dears, that the hope of seeing you no-w- 
 and then by this means, is one great reason for my approving 
 it ; and poor, dear Patty is quite in raptures with the plan on 
 that account." 
 
 " We can never thank you half enough for all your kindness 
 to us," said Miss jMatilda, pressing the hand of her friend, and 
 at the same time yielding to a hint, conveyed by a nudge of the 
 elbow, that they might now retire. 
 
 " I am so dehghted that I have got you to myself once more, 
 my dearest, dearest Patty ! " cried Matilda, embracing her friend 
 anew, as soon as she had succeeded in getting her to the little 
 space before the window, which the navigation round the bed 
 rendered no easy task. " Oh, how my heart beats to ask you 
 a few questions ! . Tell me, dearest girl, did you see much of 
 Poxorof t after we came away ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Matilda — he never missed a day. Papa and he 
 are tliicker friends than ever. You'll be sure to see him at our 
 house — that is, you know, when we have got one in town, of 
 our own." 
 
 " "What a delicious idea ! It positively takes my breath 
 away. But tell me, dearest, for pity's sake, tell me, did he ever 
 speak of me ? " 
 
 " Lots. He asked more questions, I promise you, than we 
 could answer, about your family and fortune, and whether 
 you had any mother, father, uncles, aunts, brothers, and the Lord 
 knows what. It certainly does look rather particular. But I say, 
 Matilda, is this great large bed all for you? Because if it is, you 
 might give me half of it, you kno-*, some day when papa and 
 mamma were gone down to what's the name of the place ? " 
 
 " I wish to goodness it was, dearest ! But, unfortunately, it 
 is the only bed-room we have. We just take what is called in 
 London the drawing-room floor, and no more," rephed her 
 friend. 
 
 " So then I suppose that's no go," observed the disappointed 
 Patty, rather gloomily. " However, I have got hundreds of 
 things to say to you, and somehow or other we must contrive to 
 be together. Oh, Matilda ! we have got such a man in our 
 house ! The house, I mean, where papa has taken the rooms 
 for us to sleep, you know. Such a man, Matilda, as I never saw 
 in all my born days. Not that he is one quarter as beautiful as 
 my dear Jack ; for, in the first place, he is as yellow as a guinea, 
 and his face is almost entirely covered with coal-black hair. 
 But then he has such a beautifvil nose, and such a pair of eyes ! 
 If I can't show him to you, I shall die." 
 
 " Alas, dearest Patty ! there is but one I care for now. 
 Talk to me of my poor Foxcroft, if you love me ! Tell me ho-w 
 he looks ? " 
 
222 
 
 THE WIDOW MAEKIED. 
 
 " Looks, my dear ? Why he looks much as usual, I believe. 
 Don't be angry, Matilda ; but I can't, for the life of me, think 
 how you came to fall in love with such a red nose as he has got, 
 and ever so much gray in his hair besides." 
 
 Miss Matilda Perkins coloured violently, and, for one 
 moment, there was danger that the wounded spirit might burst 
 forth, and utter words which would have smothered and de- 
 stroyed the friendship which united them — for ever ! But 
 better, calmer, wiser, thoughts succeeded, and ere Patty could 
 be quite sure that her dear Matilda was in a passion, that 
 tender-hearted creature had so far conquered her emotion, as to 
 produce a little nervous titter, and reply, 
 
 " What is one man's meat, you know, -my dear, is another 
 man's poison. It would be very dreadful, Patty, if we all 
 thought alike about people. Good gracious I what would have 
 become of me if all men saw with young Mr. Compton Hubert's 
 eyes, for instance? In that case, poor dear Foxoroft's eyes 
 would never have been turned my way; and yet you must 
 allow, my darhng girl, that he seemed to admire me most ? " 
 
 There was upon the very little table which stood in the 
 window of the Miss Perkinses' bed-room a very little looking- 
 glass, and upon this Patty silently turned a sidelong glance 
 before she answered her friend's appeal, and then, with all the 
 good-humour which a broad grin could convey, she rephed, 
 
 " Oh ! to be sure, Matilda. How could he help it ? " 
 
 But ere this was uttered, the rapid action of thought had 
 restored to Matilda the entire possession of her senses. She 
 
 - found her fair soul, 
 
 And so to find, 
 
 of necessity rendered it impossible to quarrel with her friend. 
 
 " Ah ! you beautiful wicked little creature," she said, play- 
 fully laying a forefinger on each of Patty's rosy cheeks ; " you 
 know well enough that as for beauty, there is not one girl in 
 ten thousand that can be compared to you ; but the goodness of 
 Providence is too great, Patty, to let all men fix their hearts on 
 one, let her be ever so beautiful, and that is the reason why, as 
 they say, every Jack can find his Gill. Such as you, Patty, to 
 be sure, may pick and choose ; but a poor good sort of a warm- 
 hearted girl like me, ought to, and always does, receive grate- 
 fully the love of a generous and affectionate man, even if he 
 does happen to have a large' nose, and a few gray hairs into the 
 bargain. But don't let us talk any more of me. Tell me, 
 darling, aU that has happened to you since we parted. Did 
 you go on with the three walks everyday upon the pier ? " 
 
 " Good gracious ! no, Matilda. How could I, with nobody 
 
PLAN FOE ACCOMMODATION". 223 
 
 on earth to walk witli? That's the plague of it now, you see. 
 Papa talks of London being empty — but lor-a-meroy ! I only 
 wish that I could get acquainted with just one out of every 
 twenty of the well-dressed, elegant-looking people I meet ; I 
 could get up a ball in no time. Will you beheve it, Matilda, I 
 have never danced a step, so fond as I am of it, since I 'came to 
 England ? and I did think when we got to London, I should 
 get a dance now and then. But one might just as well be in 
 the woods for anything I see." 
 
 "It is a dreadful dull season, my dear, just now," replied 
 her friend; "but when you get into your fine new house in 
 London, Patty, you will have dancing enough, PU engage for 
 it. Do you waltz, dearest ? " 
 
 " No, I never learned— but mamma says I shall," repKed 
 Patty. 
 
 " I dote upon waltzing ! " resumed the animated Matilda. 
 " I would not confess as much to all the world, Patty ; but I 
 have been taking lessons since — since I was grown up, and I 
 should so dehght in teaching you ! " 
 
 " Oh ! I am to have a man-master, mamma says ; but I 
 should like well enough to practise the steps with you first. 
 How hard it is that we cannot be together ! " observed Patty. 
 
 " And what walks we could have together ! " responded her 
 friend. " Have you been to hear the band play at the Horse 
 Guards yet, my dear ? " 
 
 " My goodness, no ! I have heard nothing, and seen nothing, 
 either, except my beautiful black and yeUow man in the 
 drawing-room," said Patty, mournfully. 
 
 " How we could enjoy ourselves, to be sure ! " resumed 
 Matilda. " There are a hundred and fifty things that we could 
 do and see together. I wonder if Louisa — " she added, 
 musingly ; but there she stopped, and Patty stood anxiously 
 watching her hps, to catch what might pass them next ; for she 
 guessed in a moment that her friend was revolving the possibOity 
 of turning her elder sister out of bed to make room for her. 
 
 " Dearest Matilda ! teU me what you are thinking of ? " 
 burst from her at last — for Matilda stOl pondered silently on 
 the difiiculties of the case. 
 
 " Come back into the drawing-room, Patty," she said at 
 length, in a voice that betokened doubt and agitation, " and let 
 me bring Louisa in here, to speak to her for one minute ; " and 
 as she spoke, she made her way round the bed-post, Patty 
 following in silence. 
 
 " There is somebody wants to speak to you, Louisa ; will 
 you step out for a moment?" said the younger to the elder 
 sister : and though she meant to speak in a tone of great in- 
 difference and composure, there was something in her manner 
 
224 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 which made Miss Louisa instantly jump up, though Mrs. 
 O'Donagough was in the midst of a most interesting description 
 of the splendour of the Peters' family, and exclaim as she left 
 the room, 
 
 " Goodness, Matilda ! what is the matter? " 
 
 " Matter, my dear ! How foolish you are ! There is nothing 
 at all the matter ; only I wanted to ask you, Louisa, if you 
 thought it possible that you could 'sleep for a night or two on 
 the little sofa in the drawing-room. THs dear girl is so longing 
 to come to us ! aiid! I know the connection to be so immensely 
 important to us both ; but, of course, particularly to me, Louisa, 
 because of their great intimacy with poor dear Foxcroft. Do 
 you think you could manage it ? Patty says she is certain that 
 he will be continually with them, for he is going to be quartered 
 close to London. Oh, Louisa, think what I must feel ! Tell 
 me, do you think it possible? " 
 
 " The sofa is bo very small," said the gentle Louisa, piteously, 
 " that I certainly don't think I could lie down upon it in any 
 way whatever ; but I'm sure I would not stand in your way for 
 the world about Captain Foxcroft ; only you know he is not in 
 town yet, and I am so very apt to catch cold if I don't he 
 warm and comfortable." 
 
 " You don't understand my object," returned the vexed 
 Matilda. " I know he is not in town yet, and may not be for 
 months to come : but it is cultivating the intimacy with the 
 O'Donagoughs that ought to be our great object now, and I 
 see as plain as possible that for some reason or other it would 
 be convenient for Patty to be left here for a day or two. 
 Think, Louisa, what it will be when they have a house in 
 town for them to feel that they have been under an obhgation 
 to us ! " 
 
 " I would sooner put them under an obligation in any other 
 way rather than have no bed to he on," rephed poor Louisa, 
 with a sort of prophetic shiver. 
 
 "Very well, then, that matter's settled, and I dare say I 
 shall never set my eyes on Foxcroft again!" cried Matilda, 
 with strong emotion. 
 
 " Go back to them, Louisa, and say that I am not quite 
 well. I cannot bear to meet the disappointed looks of poor 
 Patty." 
 
 '' Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! what a sad business it always is 
 about a bed to b? sure ! I wish with all my heart that my 
 poor legs were not so long, and then I should not mind it," 
 returned Louisa, with a melancholy aspect. " You are a good 
 bit shorter than me, Matilda," she added, with sudden anima- 
 tion, " and as your heart is so much in it, perhaps you would 
 not mind sleeping upon the little sofa yourself." 
 
A EEWAED PROMISED. 225 
 
 " Not the least in the world, Louisa. I am sure I would 
 do that, or anything else, to please such Mends as the O'Dona- 
 goughs ; but to teU you the truth, I did not think that Patty 
 ■would like to sleep with you so well as with me. You know 
 you have never been on the same sort of footing with her, and 
 I thought she would like to have aU her httle gossip out with 
 me, before we get up of a morning." 
 
 " That's very likely, sister ; but I don't think it is quite 
 fair to lay such store upon it. Beggars can't always be 
 choosers, you know," said Louisa, with a little approach to 
 asperity. 
 
 " Beggars ! beggars ! Louisa ! " ejaculated the greatly- 
 shocked Matilda, in a sort of whispered scream, for she 
 trembled at the idea of such a phrase being overheard by the 
 aristocratic and high-minded Mis. O'Donagough. " How can 
 you use such frightful, such ungrateful language? " 
 
 " Well, my dear, say no more about it ; ask your young 
 friend to come, and we will manage with her as well as we 
 can. Perhaps you can let me have the mattress out, Matilda, 
 and one of the blankets, and then I could sleep very well, I 
 dare say, on the drawing-room carpet. I am sure I would 
 not stand in your way for the world, my dear, especially if 
 you think it would make any difference about Captain Fox- 
 croft." 
 
 This was said with the revulsion of feeling which good- 
 natured people often show, when thinking that they have been 
 rather cross, and it was received by the younger sister with a 
 rapture of gratitude. 
 
 "That is just Uke yourself, Louisa! You are a perfect 
 angel in temper, and I am sure you might have your choice 
 among captains and majors too, if the men did but know 
 their own interest. But if I do succeed this time, and I feel 
 as if something whispered me that I should, if I do become 
 Mrs. Foxcroft, you will have a brother who will be ready to 
 repay all your kindness, and if I did not know that, I am sure 
 I would never think of him." 
 
 The sisters then returned with all speed to the drawing- 
 room, where Mrs. O'Donagough and Patty had been employed 
 in looking out of the window and in muttering to each other 
 their hopes and their fears concerning the result of the 
 consultation ; Patty having communicated her convictions 
 respecting ite subject to her mamma, concluding with a re- 
 mark, that, if she were asked, she should certainly stay, 
 wheth* her papa Uked it or not. 
 
 " He did not say a word when you mentioned it, I marked 
 that," said she ; " but PU make him say yes, if he's asked, or 
 I'll know the reason why." 
 
 o 
 
226 THE WIDOW MARKTED. 
 
 " My dearest Mrs. O'Donagougli ! " said Matilda, passing 
 her sister at the door of the room and approaching the majestic 
 lady she addressed with clasped hands and beseeching eyes, 
 " My dearest Mrs. O'Donagough ! I have the very greatest 
 favour in the world to beg of you, and if you will but grant it, 
 I shall be grateful to you for ever and for ever ! " 
 
 "And what may that be. Miss Matilda?" said Mre. 
 O'Donagough, with a condescending and very gracious smile. 
 
 " I hope you will not think me too bold and presuming," 
 replied the fair spinster ; " but my sister and I should be so 
 delighted if you would let Miss O'Donagough pass a few days 
 with us. Win you grant us this great pleasure, my dear 
 ma'am ? We will take the best possible care of her, you may 
 depend upon it." 
 
 " You are very kind, I am sure," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 with a little laugh that seemed to say that the proposal was very 
 droll and very unexpected. " What do you say to it, Patty ? " 
 
 " Oh, mamma, I should like it of all things ! " replied the 
 young lady, hanging herseK in her usual affectionate manner 
 on the arm of her friend. " There is nobody in the world that 
 I love so well as Matilda Perkins, and I shall dote upon staying 
 with her." , 
 
 " Well, then, I suppose we must go home and ask papa," 
 rejoined her mother. 
 
 " What, my dear madam, go home to Richmond, and take 
 dear Patty too, before we can get your answer ! Oh, dear me, 
 that win make it so long ! " 
 
 " No, no, my dear Matilda, I do not mean that at all," 
 replied Mrs. O'Donagough, laughing. " I have got such a 
 trick of calling every place home, which I am going back to, if 
 it is only for five minutes. But I'U tell you, my dear, how you 
 may be very useful and get an answer about Patty, and, per- 
 haps, take possession of her, all under one. The truth is, that 
 Mr. O'Donagough brought us to your door, but was obhged to 
 run away directly on account of having Lord — Lord — mercy 
 on me ! — I forget the name. But he had Lord somebody or 
 other to meet. It is certain that he gave me the most exact 
 directions possible how to find the way back to the rooms, 
 where we put up when we come from Richmond ; but if you'U 
 beUeve me, I don't remember a single word of it. So I shall 
 be monstrously glad, Matilda, if you will walk back with us." 
 
 "To be sure I will, with the very greatest pleasure," re- 
 plied the deUghted Matilda. 
 
 " And then, you know, if Donny is at home, we can ask for 
 Patty's leave of absence, and if it is granted, why she may go 
 back with you at once. I wiU take care to send her things after 
 her." 
 
THE POWER OP CHERRY RIPE. 227 
 
 This plan seemed to give universal satisfaction ; for Miss 
 Louisa, thougli invited to join the -walking party, declined it, 
 from feeling tliat she should thereby lose an excellent opportunity 
 for mating all domestic preparations ; and Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 her daughter, and her daughter's friend, set off for the incon- 
 gruous purUeus of majestic Regent-street together. 
 
 In happy conformity to their wishes, they found that Mr. 
 O'Donagough had just entered the house. No time was lost in 
 making their petition, no time was lost in granting it ; and 
 within a minute afterwards, Patty was dragging her friend up 
 the narrow stairs, in order, as she said, that she might help her 
 to put up the things that were to be sent after her. But after 
 mounting about a dozen stairs, the young lady paused, and 
 whispered in her friend's ear, " Now, Matilda, if my blackbird 
 is in his cage, I wiU show you what I can do by a song. Cherry 
 ripe, cherry ripe, ripe, ripe cherry," carolled Patty in very 
 audible notes as she slowly mounted the last stairs leading to the 
 drawing-room ; and, as she expected, the door opened, and the 
 apparition of the black head and yellow face- was again visible 
 at it. Patty started, ceased her song, and dropped the parasol 
 she held in her hand. 
 
 " Permettez moi," said the Spaniard, darting forward, and 
 speaking in the universal jargon by which all nations seem to 
 fancy they can be best understood, " charmante donzella! per 
 Tuettez moi; " and picking up the parasol, he presented it to hoi' 
 ■with a fascinating bow, at the same time permitting his great- 
 eyes to " look their fill," both at herself and her friend. 
 
 " Thank you, sir. You are very poUte," said Patty, colour- 
 ing ; and having received her parasol with more than one s milin g 
 bow, she galloped up stairs, followed by her friend. 
 
 " Well, MatUda ? " said she, closing the door as soon as they 
 had entered her room. 
 
 " Oh, Patty ! he is yellow to be sure. You don't mean to 
 say that he is as well-looking as Foxcroft ? " was the unsatis- 
 factory reply to this eager appeal. 
 
 " Well, then, you are in love," said the disappointed Patty ; 
 " but at any rate, Matilda, you can tell me if you think he is a 
 real gentleman ? " 
 
 " Why, my dear girl, if I was you, I would not make any 
 further acquaintance -with him, unknown to your papa and 
 mamma. I have lived in London so long, that I am rather used 
 to see those kind of people, and I don't beheve they are always 
 gentlemen of rank and fortune," repHed the discreet Matilda. 
 
 " Oh I as to that, I have made no acquaintance -with him 
 at all, as yet, please -to observe — and there's no likeKhood I 
 should, if I am going to stay with you. But as to handsome- 
 ness, he's beautiful enough for a king, and that I'U stand to, say 
 
 o 2 
 
228 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 ■what you will. But come along — ^that's all the finery I shall 
 want, and matuina can put out the other things. I long for 
 you and I to be walking by ourselves, and then we can talk and 
 look about as much as we like." 
 
 " Won't you rest yourselves before you set out again ? " 
 said Mr. O'Donagough, upon their re-entering the parlovir to 
 say adieu. 
 
 " Oh no, thank ye, papa. We are not the least tired ; are 
 we, Matilda ? " replied Patty. 
 
 " No, not the least," added her acquiescent friend ; and after 
 a few words between the mother and daughter respecting the 
 packet of clothes which was to follow, and a proper proportion 
 of kissing and hand-shaking, the young ladies set olf on their 
 walk back to Brompton. 
 
 "Are you quite sure you are not tired, Patty ? " inquired 
 Matilda, as soon as they got into Regent-street. 
 
 " Not a bit," rephed Patty, sturdily. 
 
 "Then let us cross PicoadOly, and walk down St. James's- 
 street," said her friend. " I never come to this part of the town, 
 if I can help it, without just taking a peep at that dear St. 
 James's Park. I really tlunk it is the most beautiful place upon 
 earth." 
 
 The well-assorted friends had proceeded about halfway down 
 St. James's-street, when their four eyes were pleasantly struck 
 by the appearance of two young guardsmen in full regimentals, 
 who issued from the coffee-house at the bottom of the street, and 
 walked up the pavement towards them. A silent pressure of 
 the arm, given and returned between the two ladies, did all, 
 and perhaps more than all that was necessary for directing 
 each other's attention to the interesting spectacle; and they 
 walked on together with a step, perhaps rather more digni- 
 fied and measured than usual, but with great decorum, and 
 without exchanging a word. 
 
 Both the young men were tall and handsome, and neither 
 of the young ladies refused them the passing tribute of a 
 stare. But what was the astonishment of the well-behaved 
 Miss Matilda Perkins, when she felt the arni of her young friend 
 suddenly withdrawn, and saw her stand with outstretched hands 
 and starting eyes on the middle of the pavement, gazing On the 
 features of one of the gentlemen, as if turned to stone by some 
 male gorgon. The young guardsman, however, who was in 
 earnest conversation with his companion, did not notice her, and 
 pursuing their course, they presently turned together into a shop. 
 
 The petrified Patty then appeared in some degree to re- 
 cover herself, and grasping convulsively the arm of her friend, 
 heaved a sort of gasping sigh, and distinctly uttered the mono- 
 syllable " Jack I " 
 
PATTY DISCOVERS AH OLD FRIEND. 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Gkacious heaven ! you don't say so," cried the sympathis- 
 ing Matilda, entering at once into the nature of her friend's 
 feelings. " This is a most wonderful discovery, indeed ! But 
 you must compose yourself, my dear girl, you must, really. 
 Lean on me, Patty, and walk gently on. When we pass the 
 shop, you know, you may just look in ; and if you can catch 
 his face, you will be able to satisfy yourself whether you may 
 not have made some mistake." 
 
 " Mistake !" shouted Patty. " Do you think I don't know 
 him? Do you think, after all I have told you, that I should 
 not know my darhng Jack amongst a million ? " 
 
 " But I am quite sure, Patty, that the gentleman did not 
 know you." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! How should he know me, when he 
 was chattering as fast as he could speak to that other fellow, 
 and never turned his eyes my way ? But you don't suppose I 
 mean to part so ? I shall go in after him, I promise you — and 
 then you shall see whether he knows me or not." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Patty, don't follow two gentlemen 
 in that way," said Matilda, really frightened. " It is a sad- 
 dler's shop, my dear girl, and nothing but men ever do go 
 into it. We shall be taken for something very, very bad, in- 
 deed we shall." 
 
 But Patty, without paying the slightest attention to her 
 remonstrance, continued to drag her on, and on reaching the 
 shop-door, without uttering another syllable of warning, she 
 fairly pulled her in, marching straight forward to the back of 
 the shop, where stood the chase, in earnest examination of a set 
 of harness. 
 
 Patty's object was at that moment not so much to speak to 
 him as to make him see her, and this she at length effected, 
 by dauntlessly walking round his very elegant-looking com- 
 panion, and finally stationing herself within about half a foot of 
 his person. 
 
 Startled at this sudden vicinity of female drapery, the young 
 man looked up, and his countenance most unequivocally ac- 
 knowledged acquaintance with the remarkable figure that stood 
 before him. Hot and agitated, her showy bonnet pushed back- 
 wards tUl it was almost off her head, her colour crimson, and her 
 eyes extended with no mitigated stare, poor Patty really looked 
 very far from respectable ; while her terrified companion, whose 
 more decent appearance and sober demeanour might have been 
 Bome protection, retreated towards the door, utterly incapable 
 
230 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 of braving a scene which she thought likely to prove so exceed- 
 ingly disagreeable. Neither her absence, nor presence, however, 
 were capable of producing any great effect on the catastrophe. 
 Patty's acquaintance no sooner set his eyes upon her, than, with 
 a complexion as glowing as her own, he suddenly dropped the 
 article he had been examining, and, abruptly seizing her hand, 
 led her through the shop, and into the street, without speaking 
 a word. 
 
 With an agitated and hurried step he raged her forward 
 some paces past the door, and then pausing, and changing the 
 grasp he held of her hand for the usual salutation of a fiiendly 
 greeting, he said, " My dear Miss O'Donagough, I sincerely hope 
 I see you well — and truly glad should I have been to have shaken 
 hands with you under other circumstances ; but your referring 
 to our acquaintance on board sliip, before the friend with whom 
 you saw me, or indeed before any friend I have, would be very 
 mischievous to me ; and I remember your former kindness too 
 well, not to feel certain that you would be sincerely grieved 
 to do me the injury which would inevitably ensue were you to 
 betray me." 
 
 "Betray you. Jack!" replied Patty, very innocently. 
 " Good gracious, no ! I would not do you any harm for the 
 whole world ; but you need not be afraid of speaking to me 
 when we are by ourselves, you know. Tell me when you wiU 
 come and see me, my dear, dear Jack ! " and she grasped the 
 hand which held hers with unscrupulous affection, causing 
 thereby a degree of remorse and embarrassment to the young 
 man, of which, assuredly, she had no idea, and which, if ex- 
 pressed to her would have been a mystery past finding out. 
 
 Distressed beyond measure, and moreover very' firmly held, 
 " Jack" felt himself terribly at a loss to know what he had best 
 do or say next — a puzzle which was rather increased than 
 diminished, when, on casting his eyes towards the door of the 
 shop he had left, he beheld his friend stationed there, and look- 
 ing towards him, evidently prevented from following him by a 
 Bpeoies of discretion most terribly injurious to the poor, vmsus- 
 picious girl, whose natural joy at meeting him again had thus 
 undeservedly betrayed her into a situation calculated to excite 
 the most disgraceful suspicions. 
 
 " Jack" was, or rather, perhaps, had been, a very harem- 
 Bcarem sort of youth, but by no means framed to endure with 
 composure the idea of producing serious mischief to a young girl, 
 innocent of everything save a good-natured and friendly recog- 
 nition of himself. 
 
 After the struggle and meditation of a moment, he said, "I 
 wiU come and see you, my dear Miss Patty. Tell me where you 
 are, and I will call upon you." 
 
AN APPOINTMENT. 231 
 
 Patty immediately drew forth her httle pocket-book, and 
 tearing out a leaf on which she had ■written her friend 
 Matilda's address, before they parted at Brighton, presented 
 it to him. 
 
 " I am not with papa and mamma now, but visiting a friend," 
 said she, as she put it into his hands. 
 
 Greatly reUeved by this iatelligence, and choosing what ap- 
 peared to him a lesser evil, in order to avoid a greater, he once 
 more permitted her to see the smile which had so awakened her 
 young susceptibilities, and said, 
 
 "That being the ease, dear Patty, I shall come and see you 
 with the greatest pleasure ; but you must promise not to men- 
 tion having met me either to father or mother. I grieve 
 for the necessity which obhges me to impose such uncivil condi- 
 tions, but I cannot help thinking that, when I assure you this 
 mystery is essential to my interest, you wiU not refuse to com- 
 ply with them." 
 
 Nothing could be farther from the deUghted Patty's thoughts 
 than making any difficulty about the matter ; and perhaps at the 
 bottom of her heart she was rather glad than otherwise that she 
 was to be his only confidant. 
 
 " I won't say a single word or syllable to either of them," 
 she answered with great eagerness. " It was always you and 
 me that was the great friends, you know, Jack, and so we shall 
 be still — shan't we? But tell me what your real name is be- 
 fore you go. It is not Jack, now, I'll bet — ^it is something, that 
 begins with an S, mamma says, because she saw it on the 
 silver fork." ' 
 
 The young man coloured, and laughed. " You must call 
 me Mr. Steady now, Patty. Good bye — ^I shall be sure to call 
 on you to-morrow at two o'clock exactly. Good bye ! " And 
 again shaking her hand, he withdrew, making her, as he de- 
 parted, a very respectful bow, for the benefit of his friend, 
 to whom. he pledged his word and honour, on rejoining him, 
 that tlie young lady he had been talking to was perfectly 
 respectable, and in fact hardly more than a child, whatever he 
 might think to the contrary. 
 
 Patty's first action upon his leaving her, was to clap her 
 hands, which might be interpreted either as a symptom of 
 violent and irrepressible joy, or as a signal to her friend, who 
 was by this time at a considerable distance in advance of her. 
 Miss Matilda Perkins was indeed in a state of very great agita- 
 tion ; and a little forgetful, perhaps, of the duties which her 
 superior age imposed, and which might be thought to include 
 the necessity of not leaving her dear young friend alone under 
 such circumstances, she had pushed onward with all her might, 
 and had by this time nearly reached the top of St. James's- 
 
282 THE WIDOW MAKRIED. 
 
 street, relaxing her speed, however, a little before she tutoed 
 into the vortex of Piccadilly, in which she suddenly remem- 
 bered that the highly-connected Miss O'Donagough might pos- 
 sibly look for her in vain. She had not, in truth, the courage 
 to turn her head ; being persuaded that if she did, she might be 
 involved as a party in an adventure of which, having " dwelt im 
 decencies " for nearly sis-and-thirty years, she was very heartily 
 ashamed. 
 
 Patty, perceiving that there was some danger of her being 
 left alone in the street, shouted the name of " Matilda !" with 
 all the strength of her lungs, and then set off at full gallop, 
 equally regardless of the elbows or the eyes she encountered. 
 
 " What do you run away for at such a rate, Matilda? " cried 
 the panting girl, overtaking her, and once more seizing upon 
 her arm. ' ' What a fool you must be, to be sure I Why, what in 
 thenameof wonder did you think was going, to happen to you?" 
 
 " Oh! nothing, my dear," rephed Miss Matilda, recovering 
 herself on perceiving that the young lady was alone. "Of 
 course, you know, I could not think there was anything going 
 to happen to me. Whatever notice I get from gentlemen, my 
 , dear Patty, is in a very different way from being spoken to by 
 strangers in the-streets. Good heaven ! what would poor, dear 
 Foxcroft say if he should hear of my being seen following 
 ofiBcers into a saddler's shop, in St. James's-street." 
 
 " I would not have beheved, if I hadn't seen it, that you 
 could be such an excessive idiot, Matilda I " replied Patty, with 
 some Httle warmth. "Do you call Jack a stranger? As for 
 that matter, I am sure you are much more a stranger to me 
 than he is. Deair, darling, delightful, lovely Jack ! How I do 
 adore him I And he shall find, too, that I am as true-hearted 
 and faithftd a girl as ever was. Why didn't you look at him, 
 you great goose ? You never in all your born days beheld any- 
 thing one half so handsome." 
 
 " WeU, my dearest Patty, now my fright is over, I wish yon 
 joy at meeting him with all my heart," said her companion," 
 who recollected how exceedingly important to all her own 
 dearest hopes, was the continued affection of her youthful 
 friend. " You must not be angry with me, darling, for being 
 a Httle frightened at iirst. You don't know how partieulai^ 
 London people are ! I do assure you, that if anybody had seen 
 us going into that shop after those gentlemen, it would have 
 been thought perfectly improper and imladyhke. And besides, 
 my dear girl, I do beheve that when a woman's heart is so com- 
 pletely devoted as mine, it makes them always most scrupu- 
 lously particidar in everything they do about other men. I 
 really should have felt that I was acting ungenerously by Fox- 
 croft if I had not come away." 
 
A VALUATION. 233 
 
 " All that may be very fine, and very right and proper for 
 you. I really don't know anything about middle-aged people 
 like you and Captain Foxcroft. But if you fancy I shall ever 
 meet my own darling Jack without speaking {o him, you are 
 quite entirely mistaken. I don't care a straw whether it is a 
 saddler's shop, or a devil's shop. Jack is Jack to me, aU the 
 world over." 
 
 " Of course, my dear, he is an acquaintance of yours, and 
 that makes all the difference ; and I hope, my dearest girl, that 
 he told you his name." 
 
 " To be sure he did, dear fellow ! His name is Steady ; and 
 he is to come and call upon me at your house exactly at two 
 o'clock to-morrow." 
 
 " Is he indeed? then we must just tell my sister Louisa, if 
 you please Patty, that Mr. Steady is a friend of your papa's, 
 and don't mention anything about St. James's-street." 
 
 " I don't care half a farthing what you tell her, Matilda. 
 You may say that he is one of my mother's fine cousins, if you 
 will. Now that I have foimd him again, I don't care for any 
 earthly thing beside," replied Patty. " But, by-the-by,'' she 
 added, drawing closer to her companion, and. speaking with an 
 air of mystery, " there is a secret about him that he won't teU 
 to anybody but me. Dear darling ! I'll keep his secret, you 
 see if I don't." 
 
 " Of course you will, Patty, if he confides it to you. And I 
 must say, that the glance I liad of him showed plainly enough 
 that he was somebody. But if he tells you the secret about his 
 disguise on board ship, and all that, there is no doubt but he 
 will tell it to your mamma and your papa too," rejoined Miss 
 Matilda. 
 
 " No, but he won't though !" cried Patty, exultingly. " He 
 told me,, dear fellow 1 that he had very particular reasons 
 indeed for not letting them know anything about it, and you 
 don't think I ain going to be such a monster as to betray him ? 
 That's just what he" said himself, dear creature, ' You won't 
 betray me, Patty,' said he ; and I'U see father, mother, uncles, 
 aunts, and cousins too, every one of them in the Eed Sea before 
 Pd hurt a hair of his beautiful head. I can't help your knowing 
 it, Matilda, because I had told you everything before, and that 
 I must make him understand ; imless, indeed, you could be 
 clever enough and kind enough to take yourself off, and your 
 wise sister too, just before two o'clock to-morrow. I had 
 rather five hundred times see him alone, and then he'U tell me 
 lots more about himself, PU be bound. Do you think you could 
 get her out, and keep away for an hour or two, MatOda ? " 
 
 This proposal very considerably embarrassed the fair indi- 
 vidual to whom it was addressed. To disobUge Miss O'Dona- 
 
234 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 gough, or in any way to check the intimacy from which she 
 hoped to derive advantages so very essential to her own 
 happiness, was not to be thought of. Yet there was something 
 that rather frightened her in the notion of leaving her friend 
 Patty so entirely to her own discretion as she now proposed ; 
 and without answering very expHoitly, she only pressed the arm 
 that rested on hers vfith the caressing fondness so usual between 
 them, and muttered something about its ever being, she was 
 sure, her greatest delight to please her dear Patty in all 
 things. 
 
 " That won't do, Matilda," cried Patty, suddenly standing 
 stock-still, and very nearly overturning a butcher's tray, intended 
 to swing innoxiously round her as she passed. " That sort of 
 answer is not worth a pin. I really have a monstrous deal that 
 I want to say to my own dear Jack Steady, and there is more 
 still that I want to have him say to me, and I feel most positively 
 sure that he will be quite glum if there is anybody by but me 
 to hear him. I'm sure, Matilda, I shall always be ready to do as 
 I'd be done by, and I promise faithfully, upon my word and hon- 
 our, that if you will but go, out to-morrow at two o'clock, and 
 take your sister Louisa along with you, I will contrive to let you 
 have a tete-a-tete ui our drawing-room with Foxcroft, for just as 
 long as you Uke, as soon as ever papa has got his nice new house, 
 you know. For papa says he is quite sure that Foxcroft will 
 contrive to get leave of absence on account of his health, or for 
 some excuse or other. He is quite sure of it. So you see, 
 Matilda, that if you will do what I tell you, there is no need 
 that I should be long in your debt." 
 
 The argument thus urged went straight to the heart of Misa 
 Matilda. " Well, my dear," she rephed, " I will see what lean 
 do — ^but Louisa, of course, is her own mistress, and if she does 
 not choose to take a walk just at that time, you know I can't 
 make her." 
 
 " But I know that you can," replied Patty, sharply ; "as if 
 I had not seen you come over her hundreds and hundreds of 
 times ! And when she has set off with saying, ' I don't think I 
 emi do that, Matilda,' haven't I heard her end at last by, ' Well, 
 to be sure, I dare say you know what is best, my dear ! ' " 
 
 This being said in Patty's best style of mimicry, it produced 
 the accustomed meed of admiration from her friend, testified as 
 usual by an assurance that she never did, no, never in her hfe, 
 hear such a mimic ! But ere this oft-recurring expression was 
 well spoken, Patty suddenly stood stiU, and having a tight hold 
 of Miss Matilda's arm, caused her to stand stiU also. 
 
 " What is the matter, my dear ? " demanded the elder lady. 
 
 " Matter ! " ejaculated the younger one. " I certainly shall 
 go distracted, that's aU— I certainly shall, Matilda, if you don't 
 
UNEXPECTED RETURN. 235 
 
 turn back this very instant, and scud along witli me to my own 
 bedroom as fast as your legs can carry you." 
 
 " Wtat for, my dear? Shan't we be very tired, Patty ? " 
 demanded Matilda, in a languid voice. 
 
 " Tired ! What signifies being tired, I should like to know, 
 compared to my not having one single bit of any ribbon for my 
 neck, or my waist, or my wrists, but that ugly dark blue that 
 papa bought at Brighton ? They make such a fuss, both of 'em, 
 about my not spending too much money in ribbons, that I am 
 obliged to be as stingy as a miser over my best, and that's the 
 reason I left all my pink pinned up safe in silver paper in my 
 drawer. I know it couldn't make any great difference with you 
 and your sister whether my skin looked better or worse ; — ^but 
 Jack ! I vow and declare I would not let Jack come and see me 
 in those nasty, hideous, narrow blue bows, if you'd give me a 
 thousand pounds ! " 
 
 " I do assure you, Patty," replied her friend, " that you 
 
 ■ can^t look more beautiful in anything than you do in those 
 
 identical blue ribbons. I have said so to Louisa scores of times." 
 
 " Come along, my dear ! " was the only reply which the 
 steadfast-minded Miss O'Donagough made to this friendly as- 
 surance, and being considerably the stronger of the two, her 
 will proved iiTesistible, and the two young ladies once more 
 jostled their way along the ever-busy pavement of Piccadilly, 
 and in process of time again reached the O'Donagough lodgings 
 in street. 
 
 The ample face of Mrs. O'Donagough was perceptible above 
 the bhnd of the parlour window considerably before Patty's im- 
 patient knocking had concluded, and she burst forth upon them 
 into the passage with all the eagerness of maternal anxiety, just 
 as her daughter raised one foot to mount the stairs. 
 
 " What in the world is all this for ? " demanded Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, laying her hand on the shoulder of Miss Matilda; 
 for by an active movement forward, Patty had escaped her. 
 " What are you come back for ? " 
 
 " Something that Patty wanted out of her drawers," replied 
 the discreet and faithful cotifidant. 
 
 " Good gracious ! what a sharne to drag you back all this 
 way ! why you might have got home over and over by this 
 time," said Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! the distance is no consequence," replied Ma- 
 tUda ; " and you know there is nothing in the world I would 
 not do to please Patty ! " 
 
 WhUe this passed, the two ladies continued standing at the 
 bottom of the stairs, for Mrs. O'Donagough did not feel 
 altogether sure that her husband, who was in the act of dining 
 upon beefeteaks and onions in the parlour, would be particularly 
 
236 THE WIDOW MABKIED. 
 
 well pleased by a visit from the refined Miss Matilda Perkins-^ 
 especially as that young lady had been informed that they were 
 to dine at Richmond at seven o'clock. But Patty's business 
 above stairs, proceeded so slowly, that her vexed mother could 
 no longer avoid asking the weary Matilda to sit down. 
 
 " You won't mind finding Donny at luncheon, wiU you? " 
 she said, as she at length threw open the parlour-door. " That 
 silly Patty forgot something or other, and she has brought 
 Matilda Perkins all the way back from Brompton to fetch it," 
 said Mrs. O'Donagough to her husband, as she entered "but you 
 won't mind her seeing you eat your luncheon, you know, though 
 it is five o'clock." 
 
 " You wiU be shocked by the sight of so substantial a morn- 
 ing meal, my dear Miss Matilda," said the master of the apart- 
 ment ; " but the fact is, Lord Robert has. kept me so late at the 
 club, consulting about some private business, which has brought 
 him up to town — and you may guess how delighted he was to 
 see a,n old friend, at a time when the chances are five hundred 
 to one against his finding a single creature in London — he has 
 kept me so devilish late, that I was absolutely obhged to send 
 out for something solid before we set off for Richmond." 
 
 " What' on earth can Patty be about ? " exclaimed the 
 hungry Mrs. O'Donagough, impatiently. ".There never was 
 such a plague of a girl about her things ! What is it, Matilda, , 
 that she, is come back for? " 
 
 " I don't quite exactly know," repUed Matilda, blushing 
 and faltering. " She said she had forgotten something, and 
 wished to come back, and I did not say much about it." 
 
 " Do let the girl alone, my dear," said Mr. O'Donagough. 
 " If our charming friend here likes to indulge her httle whims, 
 I don't see why you should grumble about it." 
 
 " How you do spoil that girl ! " retorted his lady, resuming 
 with a boimce her place at the table, and suddenly deciding 
 that she would not be such a fool as to let her beefsteaks get 
 cold for any one. " I do believe, that let her do what she would 
 you would find out some reason or other to prove that she was 
 right." ' " _ 
 
 " She is right now, at any rate," replied the father, looking 
 up as the young lady entered the room, " for I never saw her 
 look better in my Mfe." 
 
 " What did you come home for, Patty ? " cried Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, suspending her weU-charged fork within half an inch of 
 her mouth. 
 
 " I wanted a pocket-handkerchief, mamma," replied the 
 young lady. 
 
 "As if Matilda could not have lent you one ; I am sure 
 there was something else, so you may as well out with it. 
 
ATTEMPT AT SMUGGLING DEFEATED. 237 
 
 What's that you have got in your other hand ? Didn't I tell 
 you that I would get the girl of the house to carry your things 
 for you, and what is the use, then, of dragging through the streets 
 with them yourself? " 
 
 " Use or not use, mamma, I shall carry this parcel, because 
 IMke to do it ; and that, I suppose, is reason enough, isn't it? " 
 
 " What's in the parcel, Patty ? " persisted her mother, 
 pettishly. " You haven't got hold of my lace collar, I hope ? " 
 
 " You take me for a tHef, do you? Well, that's civil any 
 how, isn't it, Matilda ? " said Patty, with rather an embarrassed 
 laugh. " But come along, or we shall keep Miss Louisa waiting 
 for her dinner," she added, endeavouring to back out of the 
 room without further parley. 
 
 " Come and give me a kiss, Patty ? " said her father, seized 
 with an unlucky fit of affection. 
 
 Till now the young lady had contrived to keep her parcel, if 
 not quite out of sight, at least out of the reach of her mother, by 
 holding it pertinaciously behind her back ; but this unwelcome 
 invitation, rendered the manceuvre of none effect, for as she 
 stooped forward to receive the paternal caress, her mamma 
 snatched at the parcel, obtained it, tore it mercilessly open, and 
 disclosed sundry ells of bright rose-coloured ribbon, a portion of 
 which was daintily tied up in various sized knots, while the rest 
 floated left and right, far and wide, in unrestrained profusion. 
 
 "What in the world is all this for?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, with marked displeasure on her countenance. 
 " Don't you know, Patty, all that has been said about these 
 sort of things ? What good is it to talk to you hke a reason- 
 able grown-up woman, while you stUl act hke a child ? Did 
 not your father pay four and ninepence for these very ribbons, 
 expressly on condition that they should be kept up as best, and 
 worn for nothing but showing off when we wanted you to look 
 as well as possible ? Can you stand there, and tell me that you 
 don't remember this ? " , 
 
 " I am not going to tell you any such thing, Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough," replied Patty, in her most rebellious accent, and at the 
 same time glancing at her father for support, for whose especial 
 amusement, she had formed her phrase ; but it did not answer, 
 for he was growing more hungry and angry every moment, 
 and turning towards her with unexpected firmness, exclaimed, 
 
 " Don't answer your mother hke a fool. Miss Patty ! What 
 the devil do you want all that finery for ? " 
 
 " Want it, papa ? Lor-a-mercy, doesn't every girl always 
 want all the finery she can get ? I am sure if she doesn't she's 
 a fool. Come along, Matilda — " was the not unskilful answer 
 of the beauty, while replacing her ribbons in their paper 
 envelope ; but she was disappointed if she fancied that it would 
 
238 
 
 THE WIDOW MAKEIEl , 
 
 satisfy her mamma, for Mrs. O'Donagough, turning briskly 
 round to the blushing Matilda, abruptly demanded if they were 
 going to have any company, adding, 
 
 " But even if you were, that is no reason why she should 
 gallop back, and ransack the drawers in this way — for these 
 pink ribbons were bought to smarten up a morning-dress, just 
 to call on Mrs. Stephenson, you know, or anything of that sort." 
 
 Notwithstanding her advantages in point of age, it was 
 evident that Miss Matilda Perkins could not compete with her 
 young friend, either in courage or in presence of mind ; for she 
 hesitated, and looked exceedingly embarrassed as she replied, 
 
 " I am not quite sure, Mrs. O'Donagough, about who we 
 are hkely to have call upon us of a morning, but dear Patty 
 always likes to be a little smart, you know, before strangers." 
 
 " And she'd be the first to scold, if I didn't," subjoined 
 Patty. 
 
 Then hastily kissing her father's forehead, as he threw back 
 his head iij the act of hfting a porter-pot to his mouth, and 
 nodding " Good bye, mamma," to her mother, she bolted out of 
 the room and the house, without running the risk of any further 
 conversation, and was followed by her friend, whose usual 
 obsequious civihty to Mrs. O'Donagough, was altogether con- 
 quered by her dread of being entrapped into the betrayal of 
 Patty's secret. 
 
 But though the fair friends succeeded in getting out of the 
 house, and in making their way safely to Bellevue-terrace, 
 Brompton, they had not by any means " thoroughly bamboozled" 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, as Patty boldly assured her confidant was 
 the case ; for no sooner had the angry lady refreshed herself by 
 a draught of her favourite beverage, than she thus addressed her 
 spouse : 
 
 " Don't you see, Donny, as plain as that two and two make 
 four, that these two girls have got some trick in their heads ? 
 I'll bet what you please, that if you and I make them a call to- 
 morrow morning, at a genteel visiting hour, we shall find some 
 lemi or other there ; that Miss Patty is particularly desirous to 
 
 captivate some of the young lads of the . ■, perhaps that they 
 
 used to meet so constantly on the pier at Brighton — not that I 
 should care a straw for that, if it wasn't that they were both so 
 mighty shy about talking of it. That looks like mischief, don't 
 it?"" 
 
 " It is early days, too, to catch Patty out in such a trick ai 
 that," replied Mr. O'Donagough. " However, I have no objec- 
 tion to look after her to-morrow morning. But mind, whatever 
 happens, you must leave the whole management of the business 
 to me. Don't let's have any jawing before strangers, for God's 
 
EIVAL THEMES. 239 
 
 " That's all fair, my dear ; I shan't want to meddle or make, 
 I promise you. But it will do Patty a monstrous deal of good 
 to discover, that with all her cleverness, there are eyes as sharp 
 as her own, though may be not quite bo bright. 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 MEAirwHiLE the two Mends at last reached their destination 
 at Brompton ; but not before the veal cutlets and mashed pota- 
 toes were very nearly reduced to cinders, and poor Miss Louisa 
 as nearly out of temper as her constitutional tranquillity would 
 permit. 
 
 The evening, of course, passed in alternate mutterings be- 
 tween Miss Matilda and Patty, which, in style, might not i'naptly 
 have been compared to those classic eclogues, in which a gentle 
 contest is briskly kept up on rival themes ; for " dear, beautiful 
 Jack Steady," on the one side ; and " poor, dear Foxcroft," on 
 the other, invariably formed the subject of each eloquent speak- 
 er's volubility. Good Miss Louisa was very httle in their way, 
 not seeming in the shghtest degree conscious of what they were 
 saying, and to all appearance as completely devoted to the in- 
 tricate mysteries of some newly-invented knitting, as her com- 
 panions could be in endeavouring to trace the stiU subtiler 
 twistings of the human heart. 
 
 The following morning looked so brightly inviting, that even 
 the quiet, thimble-loving Miss Louisa, proposed a walk ; adding, 
 moreover, with more than usual vivacity, " Suppose, my dears, 
 that we were all to go together to hear the band play ? It is 
 , such a beautiful walk, turning in at the Green-park, Matilda, 
 you know ; and I don't suppose dear Patty ever heard such a 
 band in her life." 
 
 The friends exchanged glances and a little closing up of the 
 eyes, and an almost imperceptible shake of the head in each, 
 said plainly to the other that it would not do at all. It had, 
 indeed, been agreed between them before they left their sleeping 
 apartment (for the unoombative Louisa had resigned herself to 
 the drawing-room carpet, and a blanket) that Patty must assign 
 an incipient sore throat, as a reason for wishing to stay at home ; 
 while Matilda, after the one o'clock slice of bread and butter 
 had been handed round, should request the company of her 
 elder sjster upon some errand of importance, to be invented for 
 the nonce, the eligibihty of performing which should be further 
 made manifest by pointing out the necessity of not letting poor 
 Patty talk too much. 
 
 All this was accordingly performed ably, and received in the 
 
240 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 best manner possible by Miss Louisa ; and at ten minutes be- 
 fore two, Miss O'Donagougk was seated alone, and in state, upon 
 the Miss Perkinses' sofe, with every one of her beautiful pink 
 bows exactly in its right place ; her black curls, a la poodle, 
 wantoning over her comely face, and her eyes shining with more 
 than usual brightness. 
 
 Luckily she did not wait long, or it is possible her charming 
 looks might have been injured by impatience. Exactly at two 
 o'clock, the knocker of the house-door gave signal of a visitor ; 
 an active young step was heard upon the stairs, and in the next 
 moment, the name of " Mr. John Steady " was announced, 
 when Patty's " own darling Jack " stood before her. 
 
 The young man, though no longer in regimentals, looked, 
 as she thought, ten thousand times handsomer than ever, and 
 Patty's step to welcome him, was so eager that it brought her to 
 the door, almost before he had fully entered it. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Jack ! " she exclaimed ; " I am so glad you 
 are come 1 and I have made everybody go out on purpose that 
 we might have a long, comfortable talk by ourselves. What a 
 time it is since you set off in that nasty boat for Sheerness ! 
 Ain't you glad to see me again, Jack? " 
 
 " Most surely I am, my dear Miss Patty," replied the young 
 man ; " but you are looking so remarkably well, that I have no 
 occasion to inquire after your health. Have you been in London 
 ever since your arrival?" 
 
 " Oh lor, no ! not we," replied Patty, seating herself on the 
 sofa, with a hand extended on each side of her, so as to assist in 
 a sort of jump-for-joy movement with which she relieved the 
 fulness of her heart, while she gazed upon her visitor, as he sat 
 opposite to her. "We staid almost no time in London then, 
 but went down on the top of the coach to Brighton on purpose 
 to see all mamma's grand relations ; and there they were, lots of 
 'em, men, women, and children ; but there wasn't one of the 
 whole kit that I liked so well as you. Jack." 
 
 " You are exceedingly kind, I am sure," replied the youth, 
 blushing a little, and then stopping, very evidently at a loss what 
 to say next. 
 
 " Mercy upon me ! I don't call that kind, because I could not 
 help it, you know. You could not like anybody as well as me. 
 Jack, could you?" 
 
 "I am sure nobody in the world can deserve to be Hked bet- 
 ter, because you are always so very good-natured." 
 
 " Good-natured ! Is that aU ? Why, I wouldn't give a 
 penny for anybody who hadn't more to say for themselves than 
 that. My goodness. Jack ! Do you remember your jumping 
 overboard into the sea ? I never shall forget it the longest day 
 I have to hve. And do you remember who it was that brought 
 
THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 241 
 
 you to ? And then our nice, dear ship-billiards ! Oh, what 
 fun, to be sure ! ' And think of your trying to make us beUeve 
 that yoii wasn't a bit better than a common sailor ! But I 
 wasn't such a fool as that, anyhow." 
 
 " My dear Miss O'Donagough," began Mr. Steady — ^but the 
 young lady stopped him short — 
 
 " Once' for all. Jack, I won't be called Miss O'Donagough, 
 or Miss Patty either, by you. So mind that, if you please, or 
 else you and I shall quarrel, as sure as you sit there. You 
 always used to call me Patty, and Patty I choose to be 
 called ; and I shall call you Jack, too, unless when we hap- 
 pen to have listeners, and then, I suppose, I must caU you 
 Mr. Steady." 
 
 The young man seemed to make an effort to look grave, 
 but it was in vain, and he laughed heartily. Without exactly 
 understanding, perhaps, the cause of his mirth, his companion 
 shared it, and laughed heartily too, tiU, suddenly jumping 
 up, the young lady seized a pair of scissors that lay on the 
 table, and with a hop, skip, and jump, got to the back of Mr. 
 Steady's chair, and, stationing herself behind it, said in a voice 
 of authority, 
 
 " Eyes front ! Mind the word of command, Mr. Jack, or PU 
 cut your head oif — I will, upon my honour." 
 
 " What are you going to do, my dear girl ? " said the young 
 man, disobeying her commands,' and turning himself round to 
 look in her face. 
 
 " Do what I bid you," said Patty, " and no harm shall come 
 of it. See here — don't look so frightened ! — a fair exchange is 
 no robbery." 
 
 And so saying, the lively young lady mercilessly inclosed 
 within "the glittering forceps" one of her own ringlets, which 
 she scrupled not to 
 
 , dissever 
 
 From herJair head for ever and for aver. 
 
 " There now, Jack — ^look at that," said she ; " isn't it a 
 pretty little curl ? " And dropping it rather upon than into his 
 hand, she seized the moment in which, of necessity, his atten- 
 tion was directed to it, and performed the same feat upon a por- 
 tion of the young man's chestnut tresses, leaving a very cruel gap 
 just over his left ear. 
 
 " Now ; what d'ye say to that, master Jack ? I am the 
 same funny girl that ever I was, ain't I?" said Patty, skipping 
 round in front of him, and exhibiting her prize exultingly held 
 on high. 
 
 " Oh, Patty, this is very foolish! What would your mamma 
 say if she could know it ? " said the young man, risiog, and 
 
 p 
 
242 THE WIDOW MAKBIED. 
 
 looking very much as if he were disposed to re-exchange the 
 tokens by dint either of stratagem or force. " Come, be a 
 good girl, and throw it away. A fine, tall young lady as you 
 are now, must not play the same sort of tricks that you used to 
 do when a child." 
 
 " Throw it away ! And will you throw mine away, Jack ? 
 What a brute you must be to think of it ! " And Patty very 
 coajdngly approached him, holding fast the treasured lock in 
 one hand, while with the other she cleverly caused the one he 
 still held to curl roimd two of his fingers. " Now, is it not very 
 pretty. Jack?" said she, looking up in his face with a sort (rf 
 deprecating smile. 
 
 " Ye^, to be sure it is ; and you are very pretty, too, Patty," 
 said the youth, fairly beat out of his discretion, and unceremo- 
 niously saluting the blooming cheek which had placed iiaelf so 
 near Mm. 
 
 At the very moment he did so, and while the not tooi 
 greatly incensed Patty was laughing heartily at his audacity, 
 the door opened, and in walked Mr. and Mrs. Allen O'Dona- 
 gough. 
 
 The parties naturally fell into a tableau, and for hall a 
 minute not a word was spoken ; but Patty soon recovered both 
 her courage and her tongue, and though still blushing a rather 
 deeper tint, perhaps, than the celestial rosy red of which the 
 poet sings, she managed to assume an air of very tolerable novr 
 chalance as she exclaimed, 
 
 " So, you are come to look after me, I suppose ! but if you 
 look sharp, perhaps you will see, into the bargain, an old friend 
 with a new face." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough's first emotion was of a mixed nature, 
 being compounded of one feehng a little approaching to alarm, 
 and another rather nearer still to satisfaction, at discovering her 
 Patty so evidently, according to her notions, the object of a 
 tender passion, and that, too, from a person so pre-eminently 
 elegant in appearance as Mr. John Steady. But the words of 
 the young lady caused her to examine the countenance of the 
 gentleman more attentively, and, ere she had gazed long, her 
 whole attitude and manner changed ; a-smile of unmixed satis- 
 faction distended her countenance, she laid her hand upon the 
 arm of her husband, and, drawing him a step or two forward, 
 stopped within a yard of her old acquaintance, exclaiming in a 
 sort of theatrical whisper, intended to be heard with particular 
 distinctness, 
 
 " Look there, O'Donagough 1 Look there, and tell me what 
 you see." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough's demeanour upon seeing his daughter 
 at a tete-a-tete game of romps with a strange man, was by no 
 
'^ ;>^^^^x.v?.r^2^^.^,,. '^/Asi^.^S.^^- ^,.^^,^,,.^,^ ^'^^.^ 
 
A SURPRISE. 243 
 
 means so equiyocal as that of his lady ; for he grew extremely 
 red in the face, and altogether appeared weU-inolined to be in a 
 great rage ; but the accents of his Barnaby acted like oil on 
 troubled water, his frown relaxed, his colour and his choler 
 became mitigated, and yielding to her gentle influence, he set 
 about staring the stranger very fixedly in the face. 
 
 " Mercy on me ! It can't be, can it ? It is not possible, to 
 be sure ! " were the sentences he uttered rapidly, but with every 
 appearance of satisfaction, in place of his late displeasure. As 
 Boon as the last words were spoken, Patty, who watched him 
 narrowly, placed herself in an attitude similar to that of her 
 mother, upon his other arm, and taking upon herself to answer 
 his wondering inquiries, said, 
 
 " Yes, but it is possible, papa ; and what is more, it is true. 
 It is our own dear Jack, and no other, you may take my word 
 for it." 
 
 " And pray. Miss Patty, how did you find him out ? " de- 
 manded her father, turning his eyes abruptly from the face of 
 his old acquaintance to that of his daughter, with a look which, 
 though no longer so fierce as before, seemed to express some 
 curiosity, to say the least of it, for a satisfactory explanation. 
 But the forbidden discovery being made, and that without any 
 agency of hers, Miss Patty's difficulties were quite at an end, 
 and without affecting any further mystery, she repUed, 
 
 " How did I find him out ? Why, in the street to be sure ; 
 and never was there such a piece of luck ! Wasn't it lucky, 
 Jack ? Wasn't you deHghted to see me ? " 
 
 It may be remembered that Mrs. O'Donagough herself had 
 never formed any great intimacy with the young shipmate who 
 now stood before her in a guise so wholly different from any 
 in which she had hitherto seen him, yet so precisely accordant 
 to the imaginings which her shrewd suspicious had suggested ; 
 her feelings, therefore, upon this unexpected rencounter, were 
 simply those of triumphant sagacity: and it was with a chuck- 
 ling merriment, very httle agreeable to the object of it, that she 
 continued to gaze upon him from top to toe. Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough was perhaps even better pleased stUl ; for not only had 
 the discovery removed some exceedingly disagreeable suspicions 
 from his mind, in which his fair daughter was concerned, but, 
 with the keenness of a ■professional eye, he discerned at a glance, 
 that whatever might have been the cause of the masquerading 
 carried on amongst the crew and passengers of the Atalanta, 
 the young man was decidedly of that class of society among 
 which he particularly desired to increase his acquaintance, and 
 this unexpected accident seemed to offer a very excellent oppor- 
 tunity for doing so. Thus the only person in the group who 
 felt not perfectly and pleasantly at ease, was poor Jack him- 
 
 p2 
 
244 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 self, and he would gladly have given a joint of his Kttle finger 
 to escape answering Patty's affectionate query, and two, per- 
 haps, might the sacrifice have pla,oed him clear of the adventure 
 altogether. 
 
 " Wasn't it lucky. Jack? " reiterated Patty, " and ain't we 
 famously caught out with our looks of hair exchanged? " And 
 the young lady held up to view the shining trophy she had 
 won, while her eyes directed those of her observant papa and 
 mamma to the now considerably-deranged curl which the un- 
 fortunate youth still held between his fingers. Luckily for 
 bim the necessity of immediately replying to, Patty's tough 
 query was obviated by Mr. O'Donagough's saying, as if in 
 consequence of Hid intelligence conveyed by the tell-tale locks 
 of hair, 
 
 " You will not be surprised, sir, if I now think it right to 
 request you will inform me what your real name may fes ? " 
 
 " Jack is perfectly dumfoundered, poor, dear fellow ! " ex- 
 claimed Patty, laughing ; " but I can tell you his name, papa, 
 without plaguing him to speak, if he had rather let it alone. 
 His name is Steady, Mr. John Steady, and that answers to the 
 fork, don't it, mamma ? " 
 
 " Mr. O'Donagough ! " said the young man, appearing sud- 
 denly to rouse himself with the energy of a newly -formed reso- 
 lution, " will you give me leave to speak with you alone for five 
 minutes ? " 
 
 " Gracious goodness! Can it be about marrying her?" 
 thought Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 
 " He is going to pop the question as sure as my name's 
 Patty ! " inwardly murmured he? daughter, vmconsoiously clap- 
 ping her hands in the ecstasy of her heart. Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough himself, however, felt convinced in a moment, from the 
 tone of voice in which the request was made, that the object of 
 it was not his daughter ; yet, nevertheless, he had enough of 
 interest and curiosity in the business to answer readily, 
 
 " I shall be very happy to hear, sir, whatever you may be 
 pleased to communicate to me ; " which assurance was given in 
 Mr. O'Donagough's most respectful and gentlemanlike manner. 
 
 " May I attend you to another room, sir? " said the young 
 man. 
 
 " Is there any room here, Patty, into which I can show this 
 gentleman ? " inquired her father. 
 
 " No, that there isn't papa, except the Perkinses' bedroom, 
 and that's all in a litter, PU be bound." 
 
 " Then we wiU take a turn in the park, Mr. O'Donagough, 
 if not disagreeable to you," said the young man, taking up his 
 hat, and deliberately laying down poor Patty's ringlet in its 
 place. 
 
ECLAIECISSEMBNT. 245 
 
 Mr. O'Donagougli replied only by a bow, and they left the 
 room together. 
 
 As the subject matter of the conversation between Patty 
 and her mother may be easily guessed, it is unnecessary to repeat 
 it, and we will therefore follow the two gentlemen into Hyde 
 Park, where, as by mutual consent, they chose a path the least 
 liable to interruption, when the following conversation took 
 place : — 
 
 "It can hardly be necessary for me to inform you, Mr. 
 O'Donagough," began the young man, " that foUy and frolic 
 must be pleaded in excuse for my having made your acquaint- 
 ance under false colours." 
 
 " I am 'very glad to hear, my dear sir, that there was no 
 worse cause for it," said the elder gentleman. 
 
 " Sir? " — ^in very haughty accents, was the rejoinder of the 
 younger one. 
 
 " I feared it possible," resumed Mr. O'Donagough, in his 
 best manner, " that some' unfortunate affair of honour might 
 have rendered a distant expedition necessary, or at least prudent." 
 
 " No, sir. Thank heaven I have nothing so irreparable on 
 my conscience. The history is briefly this : — I was left without 
 father, mother, or any near relative, except a sister still younger 
 than myself, with a large fortune, and a personal guardian, for 
 whom I had conceived a very unjust, but very strong dislike. 
 For a few years I pursued my studies at Eton, with tolerable 
 propriety I beheve ; but at the end of that time, my guardian 
 wished me to go to college, while I insisted upon immediately 
 entering the Guards, which produced a quarrel, all the faulti- 
 ness, and all the violence of which belonged whoUy to myself. 
 I am sorry to confess, that it was in the mere wantonness of 
 intentionally giving this excellent friend as much pain and 
 anxiety as I could well devise, that I set off for Austraha 
 without communicating to him the shghtest intimation of my 
 intending to leave England at all ; and aware that if I went 
 under my own name, he would be hkely to get the intelligence 
 from the newspapers, I had the foUy to go -out in one ship in 
 the character of a mechanic about to seek my fortune in a new 
 world, and return in another, under the semblance, as you know, 
 of a common sailor belonging to the crew. In the latter case, 
 however, I confided a portion of the truth to the captain and 
 crew — partly because I felt it would be impossible to keep up 
 my assumed character with them, on account of my nautical 
 ignorance, and partly, I own, for the sake of arranging the 
 minor particulars of my passage on a more agreeable footing 
 than I had thought it necessary to do in going out. My name, 
 however, it was not necessary to disclose, and I beheve I left 
 ihe ship at Sheemess, without anything more being known of 
 
246 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 me than that I was a lad with a good deal of money, and a 
 roving sort of disposition, which had led me to take a trip that 
 I did not wish to have known. And this, in fact, was the exact 
 truth. I had one confidant, and one only, to this thoughtless 
 frohc ; my sister knew where I was gone, and from her I received 
 one letter, directed to me according to my instructions, under a 
 feigned name, to the care of a merchant at Sydney. This letter 
 produced a total revolution in all my feelings respecting my 
 guardian. It described his sufferings on my account, as so • 
 much more blended with afiection than I had ever beheved pos- 
 sible, that my heart was softened, and my spirit sobered at once. 
 But it had never occurred to him that I could have committed 
 any greater folly than the merely keeping myself concealed near 
 London ; and as my sister, faithfnl to the promise I had extorted 
 from her, never betrayed her knowledge of my having quitted 
 England, his regret and his sufferings were wholly occasioned by 
 the idea that he had wounded a too sensitive temper by the 
 assumption of more severe authority than he ought to have 
 shown. ' Come back instantly,' wrote my sister, ' and never let 
 him know the whole extent of yom' folly.' It was from a wish 
 to foUow strictly this advice, that I so cautiously concealed my 
 name and station ; and as he has never since my return asked 
 me a single question respecting my absence, I have never yet 
 recurred to the subject. We are, I am happy to say, on the 
 best possible terms ; and though I have been for some months 
 of age, I would have been perfectly wiUing to atone for past 
 rebellion, by entering myself at Oxford. But of this he would 
 not hear ; and convinced, as he kindly says, that my former op- 
 position proceeded from a genuine and decided preference for 
 the profession I was so eager to enter, he himself arranged 
 everything respecting my commission; and I am now, with 
 much better luck than I deserve, in precisely the position I 
 desired, without the mortification of having my boyish escapade 
 bruited from one end of the country to. the other. You will 
 perceive, therefore, Mr. O'Donagough, that I have very strong 
 reasons for not wishing to have our meeting on board the Ata- 
 lanta made known ; and I shall hold myself greatly indebted to 
 your courtesy, if you will never, under any circumstances, allude 
 to it, and shall be grateful, also, if you will use your influence 
 with the ladies of your family to the same effect." 
 
 " Depend upon it, my young friend," replied Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, in an accent of much kindness, " depend upon it, your 
 secret is perfectly safe with me ; nor do I fear the discretion of 
 either my wife or daughter. Patty is as good a girl as ever 
 lived, and with aU her high spirits, is as gentle and obedient as 
 a kmb to every wish that either her mother or I seriously ex- 
 press to her — ^and for you, dear Jack ! — But this famUiar appel- 
 
HALF-CONFIDENCE. 247 
 
 lation must he used no longer. May I ask, sir, if your name 
 be really Steady? " 
 
 " No, sir, it is not," replied the young man, colouring. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough said no more, and the sUenoe ■which 
 ensued was rather awkward. It was the young incognito 
 who broke it, by saying, with a good-humoured smile, 
 
 " I tax your kiiidness severely perhaps, Mr. O'Donagough, 
 both by my confidence, and by my yrant of it. I am, I believe, 
 absurdly anxious about this concealment, but the fact is, some 
 of the friends whose good opinion I most highly value, fancy 
 that the interval of my absence has left some traces of improve- 
 ment with me ; and my sister assures me that the general behef 
 is, that I have passed my time in profitable reading, whereas, 
 in truth, I have done nothing, save finding a little leisiu'e to 
 reflect. And though I would not, were I questioned, falsify a 
 single passage in my history, I would rather, at least for the 
 present, that things remained as they are. Therefore, Mr. 
 O'Donagough, if you wUl have the kindness not to urge 
 the disclosure of my name, I shall really feel it as a great 
 obligation." 
 
 " Is it your wish, then, that we should stiU call you Mr. 
 Steady ? " demanded Mr. O'Donagough, gravely. 
 
 This was a trying question ; for had the young man answered 
 it sincerely, he could only have said that he trusted no circum- 
 stances were likely to occur in which there would be any 
 necessity for his being addressed by him or his family at aU. 
 But to utter this, was of course impossible ; and after a moment's 
 hesitation, he rephed, " Yes, sir." 
 
 Another silence followed, which, like the former one, was at 
 length broken by " Jack." 
 
 " I believe, Mr. O'Donagough, that we may now turn back 
 again," said he ; " and I beg you to accept my thanks for your 
 obHging attention to my foolish story." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough followed the movement made by his com- 
 panion, and turned about to retrace his steps to Brompton ; 
 but he was not fully satisfied with the manner in which the 
 conference appeared likely to conclude, and ere he had taken 
 many steps, he said, 
 
 " Will you, before we part, permit me to make one observa- 
 tion, my dear sir? " 
 
 The young man bowed his willingness to hear it. 
 
 " It is never wise," resumed Mr. O'Donagough, " believe me, 
 sir, it is never wise to repose a half-confidence in any man. I 
 wiU not charge myself with any greater infirmity of curiosity 
 than I believe affects all the rest of us ; but neither will I 
 attempt to deny that I do feel, and shall feel a desire, perfectly 
 idle, as I am ready to confess, to learn your real name. You 
 
248 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 must be aware that the generality of men might feel this 
 ■without confessing it ; but I have still a very fresh remem- 
 brance of the amiable manner in which your gay spirits 
 beguiled the tedium of our long voyage, and I cannot resist the 
 friendly feeling which prompts me to advise your trusting me 
 with a name, which I wiU tell you frankly, cannot be long 
 hidden from me. You will, perhaps, as the season advances, be 
 likely to meet me more frequently in London society than you 
 may expect. Though I have no secrets to keep me silent, I am 
 not much given to talk of my own family and connections, or 
 you would probably know by this time, that I am highly con- 
 nected, as well as my wife, who you may perhaps have heard 
 mention her family." 
 
 " No, sir, never," replied the young man, drily, and with a 
 feehng, not, perhaps, very carefully concealed, that he did not 
 feel any great interest on the subject. 
 
 " I think you told me you were in the army ? " said Mr. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 " I did, sir," replied the ci-devant Jack, with some haughti- 
 ness; "but I did not imagine the information could give you 
 amy right to cross-question me." 
 
 "Beheve me, I have no such intention; I was about to 
 convey information, not to seek it ; and if you will judge me 
 fairly, you must, I tliink, perceive that my only possible motive 
 for pursuing this conversation, is to prevent your fancying 
 yourself more secure from all chance of my discovering what 
 you wish to conceal than you really are. I alluded to your 
 profession, sir, because I conceive that it renders it almost 
 certain you must know the name of General Hubert." 
 
 " Know the name of General Hubert? " repeated the young 
 man, suddenly standing still, and looking earnestly in the face 
 of his companion, "most assuredly I know his name. May I 
 inquire your reason for asking the question ? " 
 
 " The general's lady is my wife's niece,'' quietly rephed 
 Mr. O'Donagough. 
 
 The effect of this annoimcement, which was made at random, 
 without the shghtest idea that the general's name was better 
 known to his companion than that of any other officer of equal 
 rank, was sufficiently strong to convince the speaker that his 
 young Hstener was, at least, in some degree in his power. The 
 youth changed colour, began to speak, then suddenly checked 
 himself, and, at length, ejaculated more as if thinking aloud 
 than vrith the purpose of making any communication, " This 
 is, indeed, a most unexpected coincidence ! " 
 
 "Are you. acquainted with the general? " said Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, without appearing to notice his agitation. 
 
 " Very well — very much — ^I am very much acquainted with • 
 
SECEESY PROMISED. 249 
 
 him,'' stammered the young man in reply, and then 'added 
 rapidly, and as if from the impulse of a sudden determination, 
 " It must, indeed, be in vain for me to attempt any further 
 concealment from you, Mr. O'Donagough. May I hope that 
 in giving you my full confidence, I am giving it to a friend 
 ■who vrill kindly seek to assist rather than to thwart me ? " 
 
 With an air of candour and sincere good-will that was 
 really touching, Mr. O'Donagough stood still for a moment, 
 and extending both his hands received that of his companion 
 between them. 
 
 "Be very sure of it, my dear young friend!" said he, 
 cordially shaking and pressing the hand he held. " Be very 
 sure of it — I can have no motive on earth for betraying a con- 
 fidence that does me both honour and pleasure. Tell me your 
 real name, ' dear Jack,' and it shall be henceforth numbered 
 among those of the friends whom I most desire to serve." 
 
 "I am Sir Henry Seymour," said the young man, and so 
 saying, he withdrew his hand as if by a movement that was 
 involuntary, yet at the same moment declared himself much 
 obhged, and quite confident that Mr. O'Donagough would faith- 
 frdly keep the promise he had given him. 
 
 " Now, then, let us return 1o the ladies, my dear Sir Henry," 
 said the well-pleased Mr. Allen O'Donagough. 
 
 "You are very good, but I must beg you to excuse me," 
 replied his companion ; " I have, in fact, business which obhges 
 me to visit the Horse-guards immediately. Pray make my 
 comphments to the ladies. Good morning ! " 
 
 " But for God's sake don't go, my dear Sir Henry, tUl you 
 tell me where I can find you again! Besides, I have fifty 
 things to say to you. I will walk a httle way towards the 
 Horse-guards wdth you. I want you to tell me beyond all 
 things, how such a gay yoimg fellow as you are, ever came to 
 be so very much acquainted with my stiff nephew -in-law General 
 Hubert?" 
 
 " Sir Edward Stephenson was my guardian," replied Sir 
 Henry Seymour, with iU-concealed reluctance. 
 
 "Ay, ay, that explains it — Lady Stephenson is Hubert's 
 sister. I don't know Sir Edward as yet ; but what a capital 
 good fellow his brother Erederic is ! We have just parted 
 from him at Brighton. Did you ever visit him there. Sir Henry? 
 The fine fellow has found out the only good house in the place, 
 and famous feeds he gives there, I promise you. What a pretty 
 little toy his wife is, isn't she ? So like a wax doll— but she is 
 a nice little creature too, so friendly where she takes a fancy ! 
 Patty was a prodigious favourite, and though she is too young 
 to go out much without her mother, I did not quite like to refuse, 
 because it was such a near connection, and I saw so plainly 
 
250 THE WIDOW MAREIED. 
 
 that she meant to be kind and hoped to be an advantage to 
 our young exotic. But to tell you the truth, my dear fellow, 
 she was a little too good-natured to our dear Agnes's second son 
 Compton, who, entre nous be it spoken, was much sweeter upon 
 his cousin Patty than I quite approved. I don't Kke love-, 
 making between such very near relations ; and though it was as 
 clear as Mght that my girl had no particular fancy for him — ^in 
 fact, she always seemed to be thinking of something else, God 
 knows what — ^though it was most perfectly clear that Patty did 
 not very much hke it, the good-natured Nora would constantly 
 ask him every evening that we were there, and that, in fact, 
 was constantly. However, he is young enough to forget it, 
 and we must trust to that." 
 
 AH this wild-sounding rattle, so unlike the grave and medi- 
 tative tone which O'Donagough had been practising with General 
 Hubert, was not assumed without a purpose ; or rather, it was 
 not assumed without many purposes. It was necessary, in the 
 the first place, to establish beyond the possibility of doubt, the 
 important truth that he was what he declared himself to be, 
 namely, the near connection and intimate associate of General 
 Hubert, himself, and everybody belonging to him. It was im- 
 portant, too, that Sir Henry Seymour should be made to under- 
 stand that the blooming Patty was abeady an object of tender 
 attention to others ; and, beyond all else, it was important that 
 his own manners with the young baronet should, from the first, 
 assume that air of easy gossiping frankness which was, as he 
 had often found, the most certain prelude to profitable intimacy. 
 
 The first item in this list of reasons might have sufficed, had 
 Mr. O'Donagough been fully aware of the weight it carried 
 with it. At the first statement of near connection between the 
 families of Hubert and O'Donagough, the young man's heart 
 swelled with indignant incredulity ; but the mass of evidence 
 contained in the famihar mention of the whole race, by a person 
 of Mr. O'Donagough's age and appearance, together with an 
 assumption of relationship, which, however improbable, was not 
 likely to have 'been invented, succeeded in convincing him that 
 such was the fact ; and the moment this was achieved, all that 
 followed was wholly superfluous. Nothing hke a cold return for 
 offered civihty was to be feared from Sir Henry Seymour towards 
 any one who could boast the advantage of such a relationship. 
 His attachment to the whole Hubert family was, in fact, un- 
 bounded ; he considered hinMelf under the deepest obhgation to 
 them for their constant kindness to his young sister, and was 
 not hkely to forget the lenient gentleness with which his own 
 errors had been treated. Yet, though all this was likely very 
 greatly to influence his conduct, it could not alter his feehngs, 
 and he groaned in spirit when, having at last got rid of his ship 
 
A SATISFACTORY LOVE ATFAIR. 251 
 
 acquaintance, he meditated on all the irksome annoyances 
 to which this most unfortunate re-encounter was likely to lead. 
 
 That its effect on the other parties was quite as much 
 opposed to this, as the positions assigned to the North and 
 South Poles, need hardly be mentioned. • The calculating Mr. 
 O'Donagough seemed to tread on air as he paced back to 
 Brompton, after accompanying his new favourite to the arch- 
 way of the Horse-guards. Visions of Httle profitable evenings 
 passed at home ; of his name set down, and favourably balloted 
 for, at fashionable clubs ; of his own hospitahties returned, by 
 dinners with the gay young guardsman ; and finally of a match 
 for his blooming Patty, which would not only gratify all his 
 ambitious wishes for her, but insure to himself, as iirmly at 
 least as anything could, the power of holding on to the class 
 among whom it was the darling desire of his heart to move — aU 
 seemed to flash before him in such bright but palpable distinct- 
 ness, that he felt the glorious game to be entirely in his own 
 hands. He had, in one word, got possession of the young man's 
 secret, and it depended on himself to make a good use of it. 
 
 He found the two Miss Perkinses returned when he reached 
 their dweDing ; and the gabble of female tongues which greeted 
 his ears, as he mounted to the drawing-room, was dehghtful to 
 him, for it sounded like a flourish of trumpets announcing the 
 return 6i a victor. K they were thus joyous with what they 
 knew already, what would their feehngs be when they should 
 learn all of which he had so skilfully achieved the knowledge? 
 
 No shadow of mystery or reserve was now left to injure the 
 happy union between the Perkinses and O'Donagoughs, and it 
 was therefore with unmitigated freedom that the anxious 
 mother exclaimed, as he entered, "Now then, out with it, 
 Donny ! what is his real name, after aU ? " 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough looked upon the little circle with a 
 benignant smile. 
 
 " Don't stand grinning there, papa ! " cried Patty, rushing 
 towards him, and seizing upon the collar of his coat, with the 
 consciousness that he and his news at that moment particularly 
 belonged to herself. " Tell us all you know this very moment, 
 or you shall find that you had better not tease me." 
 
 " Tease you, my beauty ? No, faith,.! must not tease you 
 any more ; for I must say, for a lady of fifteen you have got up 
 as nice a little love afiair as the most prudent parent could 
 desire. The gentleman is Sir Henry Seymour, ladies, and, as I 
 have every reason to believe, a man of large fortune and high 
 connections." 
 
 " Good gracious ! Only think I " said Miss Perkins the 
 elder. " My adored Patty, how I wish you joy ! " said Miss 
 Perkins the younger. 
 
252 
 
 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 " Nobody in their senses could ever doubt that my girl was 
 likely to do weU,'' was pronounced by Mrs. O'Donagough, with 
 infinite dignity and very stately composure ; while Patty, who, 
 whatever she might come to hereafter, had not yet attaiued 
 Buch perfect self-command, started back, and joyously clapping 
 her hands as she bounded in a prodigious jump from the floor, 
 exclaimed, " Shall I be my lady, then, when I am Jack's wife ?. 
 Shall I, papa, upon your life and honour? " 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 This adventure made a considerable change in the proceedings 
 of Mr. O'Donagough. A very few inquiries sufficed to assure 
 tiim that Sir Henry Seymour was a young man of large and 
 unencimabered estate, with the accmnulated product of fifteen 
 years' minority just placed at his own disposal. That he was, 
 moreover, of a gay and pleasure-loving temperament, and con- 
 ceived to be exceedingly hberal in his expenditure, and generous 
 in disposition. It was not likely that a man of Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough's discernment could be insensible to the value of such a 
 character, or in the least degree indifferent to the probable ad- 
 vantages it might bring to all who were fortunate enough to 
 fall into intimate connection with it. Neither was there any 
 danger that he should undervalue the degree of influence which 
 his knowledge of the young man's private afiairs was Hkely to 
 give him. With aU this working strongly together in his brain, 
 he soon came to the conclusion that no half measures could suit 
 the present position of his affairs ; and without confessing, even 
 to the wife of his bosom, that he had greatly chaijged his imme- 
 diate plans, he set about looking for a house in good earnest, 
 and determined that it should be such a one as should aid all 
 the bold projects he had in view. 
 
 Had he deemed it " wisest, best," Mr. O'Donagough was not 
 without the means of furnishing a splendid mansion in very 
 showy style, and yet not leaving a single morsel of lacker, or 
 orinolu, unpaid for. But he was far too clever a man to risk 
 on any speculation a single sixpence more than was needful to 
 give it a fair chance of success ; and he, therefore, decided upon 
 selecting a ready-furnished house as the scene of his flrst at- 
 tempt on a large scale, in London. Should it fail, should vexa- 
 tious accidents of any kind arise to cut short his career, the loss 
 . might be easily calculated, and a retreat easily effected. 
 
 His resolution once taken, he lost no time in putting it into 
 execution. An extremely gay-looking residence in Curzon- 
 street, in the rent of which the proprietor was disposed to make 
 
MRS. o'donagough's elation. 253 
 
 some sacrifice, for the sake of letting it for a year, and at an 
 unfavourable season, fixed him at once ; he agreed, without 
 difficulty, to pay the rent in advance ; and exactly one week 
 from the day on which he had been let into the confidence of 
 Sir Henry Seymour, he informed his wife and daughter that he 
 had secured for their use, for the year next ensiling, an elegant 
 inansion in one of the most fashionable streets in London. 
 
 The eifect of this news upon Mrs. O'Donagough was very 
 like that of intoxication ; only that the symptoms continued to 
 show themselves for weeks, instead of hours. At first she 
 began to talk with exceeding rapidity, seemingly indifierent 
 whether any one listened to her or not. Then she laughed, 
 much and often, having no obvious cause for it whatever ; and 
 then she would sit in strange abstractedness, with a look that 
 might have been mistaken for a sign of headache, or approach- 
 ing somnolency, but which in truth betokened the very reverse ; 
 being rather an evidence of faculties particularly awake, and 
 intent on very high and mighty objects. 
 
 Patty was altogether in a state of mind and spirits which 
 rendered the fine house of small comparative importance, though 
 had she at any moment been told that 
 
 There's no such thing, 
 
 it is probable, to use her own phraseology, that she would have 
 " cried her eyes out." But so predominant were the ideas that 
 she was certainly going to have Jack for a husband, and to be 
 called " my lady," that no subjects of lesser interest could long 
 retain possession of her memory. 
 
 The friendship of the two Miss Perkinses was at this time 
 invaluable, and so thoroughly aware did Mrs. O'Donagough 
 become of the absolute necessity of having some one on whom 
 she could discharge her thoughts, that she induced her husband 
 to abandon entirely his visionary friends at Richmond, and con- 
 fess that he found it was quite necessary they should remain in 
 their " little bit of a lodging," tUl their " own house " was 
 ready for them. This obviated all diflioulties, and the excellent 
 Miss Perkinses trotted daily frgm Brompton to the bit of a 
 lodging, and from the bit of a lodging to Curzon-street, with a 
 resolute perseverance that nothing but the most devoted friend- 
 ship could have inspired. 
 
 " Beautiful rooms ! ain't they, Louisa ? Isn't the third 
 drawing-room a perfect paradise, Matilda ? What a place for 
 flirting, girls ! That sofa in the recess is the prettiest thing I 
 ever saw in my life," said Mrs. O'Donagough, for the twenty- 
 seventh time, as her two friends and her daughter roamed about 
 the house, from garret to cellar, on the third day after it was 
 taken. " How I do wish they would get these tiresome beds 
 
254 THE WIDOW MAKEIBD. 
 
 put up ! Isn't it too hard to have such a house as this, and not 
 be able to get into it ? — Donny ! Donny 1 Where in the world 
 is your father got to, Patty ? He iiever is in the right place. — 
 By-the-by, dears, I must leave oflf calHng him Donny, musn't I? 
 It will never do in such a drawing-room as this. To be sure it 
 is quite imaccountable how one does get into foolish, vulgar 
 ways, sometimes, and it's a proof, isn't it, that one always ought 
 to keep oneself up, even if one sees nobody nor nothing ? How- 
 ever, there is no great danger of my not getting out of it again 
 — my iirst reooUeotions are of the most refined kind. This is a 
 charming house, to be sure, but no more to be compared to 
 Silverton-park than chalk to cheese. I shall like to see our 
 friends the officers here, Matilda ; won't it be nice? " 
 
 These words instantly brought the lady she addressed to her 
 side; for though till that moment she had been entirely 
 engrossed by her friend, the future Lady Seymour, there was in 
 them a charm, powerful as magic, to which the endearing " I 
 say, Matilda 1" of her young friend was, in comparison, but 
 idle breath. 
 
 "Dearest Mrs. O'Donagough ! " returned the fluttered and 
 flattered young lady, ghding across the room to her, with a 
 movement not unlike that of a figure cut in paper and blown 
 across a table by the artificer, — " dearest Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 how I long to see you installed with all your proper style and 
 state about you, and receiving company in your own elegant 
 and graceful way. To be sure there never was any one so per- 
 fectly made by nature, as one may say, to give parties as you 
 are. Your manners, yotu- kindness, your person, your very 
 style of dress, all seem formed on purpose for it. I am 
 sure it is a blessing, and an honour, and a happiness to know 
 you." 
 
 " Well, well, 'Tilda, we shall see, we shall see. By-the-by, 
 I'll tell you what I should like as well as anything in the whole 
 job, and that is, making my old ramshorn aunt Betsy come to 
 see me here. Won't I make her remember the bees and the 
 bread and milk? " 
 
 Notwithstanduig all the eager attention with which Miss 
 Matilda looked up into her face — most sincerely wishing to 
 understand every word she. uttered — ^there was a mystery in 
 this allusion which defied her sagacity, stretched, as it was, 
 to the very utmost ; and she coidd only reply by laying her 
 hand with a fond squeeze on the plump arm of her magnifi- 
 cent friend, and repeating, with a little coaxing laugh, " Dearest 
 Mrs. O'Donagough !" 
 
 " But that's neither here nor there," resumed the great lady, 
 recoUeoting herself. " I was thinking of bygone times, when 
 that crabbed old soul was a perfect tyrant to me. I don't mean, 
 
INCEEASnsrG DIGNITY. 255 
 
 of course, that she was not always liymg in very liigh style, as 
 a person of her noble birth, and immense possessions ought to 
 do ; but you know, my dear, many old people, both rich and 
 poor, like nothing so well as tormenting young ones ; and what 
 I said about the bees and bread and mUk, came froila recollecting 
 the time when she kept bees for her own amiisement in some 
 most elegant golden hives, and then, instead of letting me look 
 at them, ordered the footman to take me to the housekeeper, or 
 the lady's-maid, I'm sure I forget which, to eat bread and rnilk 
 for supper. So spiteful of her ! wasn't it, Matilda ? " 
 
 " Spiteful indeed ! dearest Mrs O'Donagough ! I cannot 
 conceive how any human being could ever have the heart to be 
 otherwise than kind and affectionate, and, in fact, altogether 
 doting upon you ["replied Miss Matilda. "I don't suppose 
 there was a person," she continued, " so made in every way to 
 be liked and loved as you are. I am sure, Louisa and I sit by 
 the hour together, and have done, ever since we first knew you, 
 talking of nothing in the world but your particular manner of 
 being delightful to everybody. Poor dear Louisa, you know, is 
 very shy, but she declares that in your company she forgets it 
 entirely, and feels as easy and as happy, almost, as if she was 
 quite by herself." 
 
 " I am very glad to make Louisa happy, and you too, my 
 dear," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, swelling a Uttle, as she was 
 wont to do when called upon to assert her dignity ; " but, to tell 
 you the real truth, my dear Miss Matilda Perkins, I shall feel 
 that I owe it to myself, when I get into this house, and to my 
 family also, to keep up with most people that sort of dignity 
 and reserve which my station requires. I can assure you that 
 Silverton-park, when I was quite a newly-married and very 
 young woman, though it was celebrated through aU the west of 
 England as a scene of the most dehghtful hospitaUty, never 
 witnessed the slightest attempt at midue familiarity from any of 
 its innumerable guests towards me." 
 
 As this was uttered with appropriate accent and attitude, 
 the soul of the gentle Matilda seemed to die within her as she 
 listened to it. But Mrs. O'Donagough, on perceiving the effect 
 she had produced, felt satisfied that she might again relax a 
 little with safety, and immediately added, 
 
 " But you and your sister are particiilar friends, you know, 
 and I shall never insist upon any alteration in your manners 
 when we are quite by ourselves. When there are strangers 
 present, of course, you will understand that there should be a 
 difference." 
 
 "What do you stay prosing there for, Matilda?" cried 
 Patty at this moment, turning from an unprofitable examina- 
 tion of the empty street. " Come here, can't you ? you know 
 
266 
 
 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 I have got lots of tilings to say, and you may just as well leave 
 mamma alone — Louisa mil do for her to count over the chairs 
 and tables -with." . 
 
 " What a madcap!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough, with a 
 graceful air of elegant indulgence. "Go to her, my dear, and 
 send your sister Louisa to me. She is quite lost, poor thing, in 
 the delight of walking about these pretty rooms — ^ibr after all, I 
 can't say I consider them as anything more than merely pretty. 
 However, they will do very well till that wild girl of mine is 
 sobered down into a woman of fashion, and a wife. And then 
 I flatter myself that Mr. AEen O'Donagough will think it right 
 and proper to take me into a square to live. This house is all 
 very well for a street; but I very much doubt if Sir Henry — 
 get along, Matilda," added the tender mother, pointing to the' 
 frowning beauty, who stood impatiently waiting for her listener 
 while this harangue went on. " Go on to her, dear, and tell her 
 she must never let Sir Henry see such a face as that !" 
 
 Miss Matilda, who had stood between the mother and 
 daughter during Mrs. O'Donagough's last speech, Kke a bit of 
 rubbish on the wave of a retreating tide, seemingly returning 
 from time to time, but really becoming more distant at every 
 movement, joyfully accepted this dismission, and ere another 
 moment had passed was enjoying herself in the balcony of the 
 front room, with Patty once more hanging upon her arm. 
 
 " How can you be such a fool, Matilda, as to stand listening 
 for an hour together to mamma's humdrums?," said the young 
 lady, judiciously placing herself and her friend as much out of 
 sight of those within the windows as the premises would allow. 
 " A child of five years old could manage better than you do I" 
 
 " Upon my word, Patty, you are out there," replied her 
 friend ; " it is from no want of wit or will either, on my part, 
 if I leave you for a moment ; for, goodness knows, I had rather 
 be talking with you than anything else in the world — excepting, 
 you know, when you happen to be engaged in another way ; 
 or," she added after a pause, and with a deep sigh — " or if poor 
 Foxcroft was even again to steal into my heart with his dehcious 
 converse." 
 
 " Oh, for that matter, I jiever want to spoil sport, any more 
 than you do, Matilda. We are both of us good- uatured girls 
 in that way. ' Do as you would be done by,' that is our motto, 
 isn't it ? But I have no notion of your leaving me, with my 
 finger in piy eye, because I have got no one to speak to, while 
 you stand palavering with mamma," said Miss O'Donagough. 
 
 " But I must, Patty, if it is her wiU and pleasure, you know. 
 I can teU you, if you don't know it already, that your mamma 
 expects a great deal more attention and ceremony, and all that 
 sort of thing now, a great deal more indeed than she did at 
 
FINESSE IN LOTE. 257 
 
 Brighton. In short, she says so herself, openly and plainly ; 
 and I see as plain as dayhght, that if I am not very attentive 
 and respectful, all the fat will be in the fire, and what will 
 become then of all the happiness we expect together ? " returned 
 her friend. 
 
 Once for all, Matilda, I'U tell you plainly, that you had 
 better mind your hits between mamma and me. I won't bear to 
 be neglected for any one ; and if you don't choose to be my 
 particular friend, and stand by me, through thick and thin, 
 without caring a pin for anybody else, somebody, else shall, 
 that's all. I have no notion of mamma setting herself up, for 
 no other reason in the world than just because my Jack happens 
 to be a SiK. And who has the best right to set themselves 
 up because of that, I wonder ? So you will just please to take 
 your choice, Miss Matilda." 
 
 "Oh! my darling, only Patty!" returned the terrified 
 favourite, in an accent which seemed to predict a shower of 
 tears ; *" how can you speak so cruelly ? Do you not know how 
 I dote upon you ? Don't you know, that excepting my poor 
 dear Foxcroft, to whom I am determined to be as faithful as 
 you have been to your Jack, don't you know that excepting 
 him, there is no living creature ia the whole wide world, that I 
 love and dote upon as I do you." 
 
 " Very well, then — don't let us say any more about it ; but 
 teU me, Matilda, what do you think I ought to say the first 
 time my beautiful sweetheart asks me downright to marry 
 him?" 
 
 " Say, my dearest creature ? Why, just at the very first, I 
 suppose you must say that you are too young to think of such a 
 thing." 
 
 " But, suppose he should take me at my word, Matilda ? 
 Suppose he should really go away again, for heaven knows how 
 long, just as he did when he went to Sheerness, you know ? 
 What woiild become of me then ? " 
 
 " Oh, you must take care of that, dearest ! you must take 
 care that he does not out-and-out suppose you are quite in 
 earnest. Conunon sense teaches one, you know, when one says 
 anything of that kind, to do it with a sort of look, or a hesita- 
 tion, or something or other that shall make a man understand, 
 if he is not a very great fool indeed, that you don't mean to kill 
 biTn with cruelty." 
 
 " Well, then, that will be got over without danger, for my 
 Sir Henry Jack is no fool, I promise you," replied Patty, exult- 
 ingly. " But I say, Matilda, how long do you think it wiU be 
 before we shall be all right and ready to invite him ? " 
 
 " Quite directly, I should think, — as soon as you have got 
 into the house, I mean," replied her patient friend, who had 
 listened to the same question, and made the same answer about 
 
 Q 
 
258 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 a hundred and fifty times since the Curzon-street house had 
 been taken. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. O'Donagough, who, in his own "(ray, and in 
 a less demonstrative manner, was quite as desirous of getting 
 things en train as either Patty or her mother, did an immense 
 deal of business in a wonderfully short space of time, and per- 
 formed it all with as much skill as despatch. 
 
 It would not be easy to paint Mrs. O'Donagough's ecstasy, 
 when she found that her generous husband intended she should 
 possess both a very taU footman, and a very Httle tiger. It was, 
 as she told Miss Louisa Perkins, a proof of such lover-like atten- 
 tion, as she never could forget. 
 
 " Such a multitude of people, you know, my dear, are abso- 
 lutely obliged to do with only one or the other, that I feel very 
 greatly touched, I must confess, by his so positively insisting 
 that I should have both. Oh, my dear Louisa, how heartily I 
 ■wish that you and poor Matilda, too, had exactly such a hus- 
 band as Mr. O'Donagough ! You have no idea — ^I aih quite 
 sure it is impossible that you should have any idea — ^how exces- 
 sively kind he is to me." 
 
 Good Miss Louisa fancied she had. remembered a few little 
 scenes not quite accordant with this testimony ; but she was far 
 too obhging a person to remind Mrs. O'Donagough, at this happy 
 moment, of circumstances which had occurred at one less so, and 
 therefore only rephed by uttering a sigh, in a sort of coaxing 
 cadence long drawn out, which might be •written thus : Ough 
 — ugh — gh ! 
 
 " Poor things ! " muttered Mrs. O'Donagough, as she bustled 
 off to receive and examine a dingy -looking woman, who came as 
 a candidate for the honour of being her cook, and who, like all 
 others desirous of a place in her household, presented herself at 
 a given hour in the grand drawing-room of Curzon-street. 
 " Poor things ! what a shocking misfortune it is, to be sure, 
 not getting a husband at all ! Yet ! bless me ! so thin as they 
 are, and with such light little eyes, what could they expect? " 
 
 At length the important day arrived, that was to convert 
 Mr. O'Donagough from a lodger into a T^ouseholder ; a transi- 
 tion which, from his hvely recollection of past evenis, amused, 
 as much as dehghted him. The footman, the tiger, the cook, 
 and the housemaid, were all made aware that though "the 
 family " had been constantly coming to town to look after the 
 house, they were, nevertheless, resident at Richmond. This 
 was a sort of fact, which Mr. O'Donagough himself was par- 
 ticulary anxious to establish, knowing, as he sometimes hinted 
 to his wife, the real value of appearances a good deal better 
 than she did. He therefore arranged the ceremony of their 
 entree into their mansion in the following manner : — Mrs. 
 O'Donagough and Patty having been despatched by an early 
 
A I.ESSOX IN MANNERS. 259 
 
 coacli to an hotel at Richmond, the husband and the father 
 superintended the removal of all trunks, boxes, bundles, and 
 baskets, by a cart from "the lodgings" to "the house," and 
 then mounting into an omnibus, he rejoined the ladies, indulged 
 them very liberally with sandwiches, cheesecakes, and porter, 
 and then banded them into a postchaise, which four horses drew 
 at full gallop, to the inexpressible dehght of Patty, to the man- 
 sion in Curzon-street, where they were received by the footman, 
 the tiger, the housemaid, and the cook, in a style which caused 
 emotions in the breast of Mrs. O'Donagough. more easily 
 imagined than described. 
 
 A well-spread tea-table awaited them ; and it was then and 
 there that Mr. O'Donagough thought fit to enter, more at length 
 than he had yet done, into a statement of what he wished and 
 expected from the two ladies under the novel circumstances in 
 which they were now placed. The conversation was, however, 
 opened by his lady. 
 
 " Weil, my Patty ! " she exclaimed, contriving by a skilful 
 movement of her impressive person to bring her luxurious arm- 
 chair a Uttle nearer to the fire. " Isn't this glorious? " 
 
 " I should like it better if there was more company," replied 
 her candid daughter. 
 
 " That is very natural, my dear," observed her father, gravely : 
 " but it is not civil to say so. And now we. are on the chapter 
 of manners, it is just as well to tell you both at once, that I must 
 desire and insist that you are very careful on that point. ' Man- 
 ners make the man,' you know, and they make the woman too, 
 I promise you, quite as much as fine eyes and a fresh com- 
 plexion. You must both of you be exceedingly careful to be 
 always lady-hke and perfectly genteel in everything you say 
 and do." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough became exceedingly red in the face while 
 tliis was said. Not Mrs. Malaprop when her " parts of speech " 
 were attacked, could feel more indignant than she did at this 
 insinuation respecting the perfection of her manners. 
 
 " This is something new ! " she exclaimed, while her expan- 
 sive bosom heaved almost convulsively; "this is breaking out 
 in a new place, Mr. O'Donagough, I must say. And pray what 
 are you going to put^ into my daughter's head next ? If my 
 manners are not good enough to be a model for her, I should 
 like very much to know where she is to find one. From my 
 very earliest childhood, my maimers have been remarked, and 
 it is not for me to repeat what has been said of them. But this 
 I tcill say, that I believe you are the first that ever found out 
 there was anything in my manners to be mended." 
 . " Upon my honour, my dear, I did not mean to say anything 
 at all affronting about your manners. Of course I admire them 
 extremely!" replied Mr. O'Donagough. "But Patty is very 
 
 q2 
 
260 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 young, you know, as yet, and therefore I think it is as well to 
 give her a hint that she must be careful not to be too frolic- 
 some and rampageous if she intends to be my Lady Seymour. The 
 young man, you see, is a good deal with Mrs. Hubert and that 
 set, and I'll bet you what you will, that though he may be in 
 love with our Patty, owing to their old acquaintance on board 
 ship, which is quite natural, so handsome and affectionate as she 
 is, yet stiU, I'll venture a good bet, he'd say, if he was asked, 
 that Mrs. Hubert's manners, and her daughters' too, were ex- 
 actly what is.thought most elegant by people of high fashion ; 
 and that's what you must try to appear, if you can, you 
 know." 
 
 Scarcely were these dangerous words uttered, ere he was 
 assailed by both wife and daughter, who in the same instant 
 burst upon him, each trying, as it seemed, to outscream the other. 
 
 " You don't mean to say," vociferated the elder lady, " that 
 any Uving being in their senses could give the preference to the 
 cold, starched, hateful; old-maidish manners of Agnes Wil- 
 loughby over mine ? Mdste ! Gracious Heaven ! That I should 
 ever hve to hear you say such a thing as that, Major — Mr. I 
 mean — Mr. Allen O'Donagough ! I should like to hear Lord 
 Mucklebury's opinion on the point." 
 
 While these words were being uttered on one side of him, 
 a shrill, young voice assailed him on the other with, " You think 
 Jack would like Miss Longshanks Elizabeth better than me, do 
 you ? Well then, let him take her— that's all I have got to say 
 about it." 
 
 "Wheugh!" whistled Mr. O'Donagough, extending his 
 hands, as if to drive away a swarm of stinging flies, " what a 
 racket you do make, ladies, about nothing at all. You don't 
 quite catch my meaning, I perceive ; but perhaps, by degrees, 
 ,1 may be able to make you understand me better. However, 
 we wiU say no more about it now, if you please. And, by-the- 
 by, my Barnaby, there is something else to-talk of, which I dare 
 say you will think more agreeable. You have mentioned Lord 
 Mucklebury ; and do you know, my dear, I should hke exceed- 
 ingly to find him out, that you might renew your acquaintance, 
 and introduce me to him. I will promise not to be jealous, and 
 I rather think he is one of the sort of people I should hke to 
 know." 
 
 There was in this speech wherewithal to heal very satisfac- 
 torily aU the wounds inflicted by the former one. The conver- 
 sation immediately flowed into a most agreeable channel, wherein 
 a future of very great and hopeful splendour was sketched. 
 Patty, indeed, fell asleep in the midst of it, which was probably 
 owing to some rather business-like details which entered into the 
 discussion ; but scarcely ever had the ci-devant major and his 
 Barnaby passed au evening in more perfect harmony. 
 
MES. O'DOJfAGOUGH MUCH GRATIFIED. 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 It so happened that the first visitor introduced into Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's new drawing-room, by the intervention of the 
 tall footman and the Uttle page, was Mr. Foxcroft. 
 
 This gentleman, in consequence of having some still unset- 
 tled business to transact with Mr. O'Donagough, had kept up 
 sufficient cbrrespondence with him, to make him acquainted 
 with his address ; but it had not, as it seemed, been of so confi- 
 dential a nature, as to include any description of his present 
 abode, or manner of hving. It was, therefore, with very undis- 
 guised astonishment, that this Brighton friend looked round 
 him upon all the finery and all the grandeur which Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, her daughter, her servants, and her drawing-rooms 
 presented to his view. 
 
 Some people might perhaps have thought this exceedingly 
 uncivil, but Mrs. O'Donagough was not one of them ; and the 
 delight with which she witnessed his surprise, was as httle con- 
 cealed on her part, as the surprise itself was on his. 
 
 "How d'ye do. Captain Foxcroft? ha! ha! ha! How you 
 do stare about you ! " cried Mrs. O'Donagough, very uordially 
 extending her hand. " Why, don't you know Patty again ? I 
 declare that's too bad, as if you never saw her elegantly dressed 
 at Brighton." 
 
 " I beg your pardon a thousand times, my dear Miss Patty !" 
 exclaimed thevisitor, striding across the floor, and shaking and 
 pressing the young lady's hand with very affectionate vehe- 
 mence ; " for goodness' sake do not suppose I did not know you! 
 I am sure if I had seen you sitting upon a throne, I could never 
 for a moment have mistaken your charming face for any in the 
 whole world ; — only I had no idea, certainly, that your Loudon 
 residence was so completely elegant." 
 
 " Isn't that capital, Patty ? " said Mrs. O'Donagough, with 
 another hearty laugh. " Just look here, Foxcroft," she added, 
 majestically leading the way to the second, and then to the third 
 drawing-room. " I think on the whole this room is quite per- 
 fect — ^because of the recess, you see, and the elegant drapery 
 about it. Isn't that a beautiful looking-glass ? Of course you 
 observe that aU the chimneys have looMng-glasses. That's a 
 great advantage. There are a monstrous number of houses, and 
 very elegant ones, too, where there is but one ; but nobody can 
 teU that hasn't observed it, what an extraordinary difference it 
 makes. To be sure, Mr. O'Donagough is a man of the very 
 best of tastes, — and I must say, as hberal as he is elegant. Sit 
 down, Captain Foxcroft, sit down upon the sofa ; we don't at 
 all mind using the sofas, though they are, certainly, excessively 
 beautiful. But what good is there in having beautiful things if 
 
262 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 one's afraid to use tliem ? NotMng, I tMiik, shows a greater 
 ■mlgarity, than that sort of carefulness, particularly in a house 
 that one hires furnished. Heaven knows we pay enough for 
 it!" 
 
 " Of course, ma'am," rephed the gentleman, " nobody can 
 doubt that, and a delightful thing it is to be able to do things in 
 such a style. I hope Mr. O'Donagough is well ? I took the 
 liberty of asking for him, and the servant said he was at home. 
 There is a little business that I want to speak to him about, if 
 he is quite at leisure." 
 
 ■ "I beheve he is in the library. Captain Foxcroft," rephed 
 Jlrs. O'Donagough with much dignity. " King the bell, Patty. 
 i win send the page to inform him you are here." 
 
 When Mrs. O'Donagough from any accidental circumstance, 
 or for any particular reason of her own, felt herself exalted 
 higher in the scale of created beings than ordinary, her voice 
 underwent a singular change, not easy to be described. It was 
 as if some unusual fulness had arisen in her throat, which, while 
 it obliged her to place her head in a particular position, and to 
 add a third tier to the redundancy of her exuberant chin, ap- 
 peared to elongate every word she uttered, and to give a sort of 
 swelled and preternatural roundness to every syUable. " Oy 
 cawn vainthure to asshurre y-you, Cawptin Fawxcrolt," she said, 
 as soon as she had given the message to the little priggish but- 
 ton-bedecked boy who answered the bell, " Oy cawn vainthure, 
 I awm certawin, to asshurre y-you, that eef Mr. O'Donagough 
 is not veery partiqularly engaaged, he will not refewse to re- 
 ceeeve you." 
 
 Poor Mr. Foxcroft, who was come upon some rather awk- 
 ward business, felt thissuTjhmity to his fingers'-ends, and rather 
 to escape from the danger of being overwhelmed by any more of 
 it, than from any wish at that moment of enjoying the playful 
 vivacity of Miss Patty, he suddenly rose and crossed the room to 
 where, as usual, she was lounging upon a couch placed close 
 against the window, and looking into the street. 
 
 " I hope you have not forgotten an old friend, Miss Patty, 
 because you have got into a new house ? " said he. 
 
 " No, that I havn't. Captain Foxcroft," rephed Miss Patty, 
 well pleased, as it seemed, by this address ; "I was only waiting 
 to see how long it would be before you would have done palaver- 
 ing with mamma. None of your old friends forget you, I can 
 tell you that." 
 
 Delighted at finding that one, at least, of the family remained 
 much in the same state of refinement as heretofore, Mr. Fox- 
 croft expressed very warmly his gratitude for the consolatory 
 assurance, adding, " I need hardly tell you, my dear ]\Iiss Pattyj 
 that there is no change on my part." 
 
 " So far, so good," replied Patty, with very Mendly exulta.* 
 
MR. o'donagough's libraet. 263 
 
 tion, " and I suppose I may repeat that, mayn't I, wherever I 
 like? " 
 
 " To be sure you may, my dear Miss Patty ! " he rejoined 
 with an air of sudden intelligence ; for, in fact, he at that mo- 
 ment recollected, for the first time since he entered the fine draw- 
 ing-room, that one of his lady-loves was, or had been, the elected 
 amie de la maison. To s&j the truth, Mr. Foxcroft's personal 
 concerns had occupied him, of late, so exclun'vely, that the 
 remembrance of the fair Matilda had melted from his recoUeo- 
 tion altogether ; and not till the marked emphasis which Patty 
 placed on the word " wherever," set him to medita,te on her 
 meaning, did her idea recur to liim. Then, however, " a sudden 
 thought struck him," that it might be worth whUe, under exist- 
 ing circumstances, to renew the acquaintance. A good footing 
 at the house of Mr. O'Donagough was essential to him, and it 
 mattered little how it was obtained. Female influence was 
 always powerful, and, moreover, it was not quite impossible 
 that he might find, upon inquiry, even stronger reasons still for 
 renewing his tender intercourse with the susceptible Matilda. 
 As these thoughts passed rapidly through his head, his eyes 
 became animated, and expressed tliat sort of second-hand ten- 
 derness, with which gentlemen of his tone and manner, are apt 
 to address the young-lady confidantes of their beloveds. 
 
 " How excessively kind it is of you to take so much interest 
 in me, Miss Patty ! " he said, hanging his head a little on one 
 side, and pressing his hands fervently together ; " I am sure 
 your eyes can read my heart, and you are quite at liberty to 
 
 repeat what you find there to to those, you know, who are 
 
 in joxa confidence." 
 
 " Well ! that's fair and open, any way," replied Patty, 
 she shall know what you say, trust me for that." 
 
 At this moment the page returned with his master's compli- 
 ments, and " he would be happy to see the gentleman in the 
 library." Giving a look of confidential intelligence to Patty, 
 and a bow of prodigious respect to Mrs. O'Donagough, Mr. 
 Foxcroft followed the page, who ushered him into a back par- 
 lour, large enough to have been called a Hbrary had there been 
 books in it, but of these the show was so scanty, as almost to 
 escape a cursory observation. However, there were not want- 
 ing any of the various other articles, which, in the minds of 
 many, as essentially constitute a gentleman's library as the 
 books themselves. Thus, there was an oblong table with 
 drawers at its sides, and covered with leather, on which was 
 spread abundance of manly litter, among which 'might be found 
 pen, ink, and paper. On another table were several news- 
 papers, together with a boot-hook and a shoeingrhom. There 
 were, moreover, among " the fixtures," two large cases, pro- 
 bably designed to accommodate such " silent friends" as the 
 
264 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 owner might otoose to invite ; but as yet, none such had ar- 
 rived at Mr. O'Donagough's bidding, and the glass doors 
 sheltered nothing more erudite than Mr. O'Donagough's ward- 
 robe, he having happily agreed in opinion vrith his lady, that 
 he would find it very comfortable and convenient to make the 
 library his dressing room. Notwithstanding the want of books, 
 however, Mr. O'Donagough was reading, and this, together, 
 with the hterary-leisure air communicated by a printed caUco 
 dressing-gown, made him feel that to all intents and purposes 
 he was receiving his friend, in his library. But though sur- 
 rounded thus by dignity and ease, he condescended to rise, 
 throw away the Sporting Magazine vrith which he was engaged, 
 and hold out a hand to his friend. ' 
 
 " Oh ! Foxcroft ! I'm glad to see you, my good fellow. How 
 did you manage to get leave ? But you are too soon, now, by a 
 month or two. There's no great business doing yet," said Mr. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 Mr. Foxcroft shdok his head, and his face, naturally of 
 rather lengthy proportions, grew longer still. 
 
 " Why, what the devil's the matter ? " resumed the master 
 of the hbrary ; " you look as doleful as if you had been in the 
 pUlory." 
 
 " It's aU up with me, O'Donagough ! " rephed the guest ; 
 " I have been sent to the right about. But privately, observe. 
 I was told that I had better sell out. So there are but two men 
 in the regiment, Dashmore and Willis, of course^ that know 
 anything about it. This is better than if it was blown, but yet 
 it is a cursed business, and I want you to give me your advice, 
 as to what I had best do to help myself." 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. Foxcroft," replied the prosperous 
 Mr. O'Donagough, very gravely, " it is by no means in my 
 power to say. I was in hopes you were come to settle your 
 little account vrith me, which certainly would be convenient at 
 this moment, from the immense sums I have had to pay for 
 getting into this house, furnished as it is. You have been in 
 the drawing-room, I believe ; I need hardly tell you that it has 
 sucked up a tolerable lot of ready money." 
 
 " Of course it has," rephed the melancholy-looking ex- 
 heutenant, " and one great reason for my coming to you was, to 
 consult what I could do in order to get the means of paying 
 you. As a man of honour, O'Donagough, you must be aware 
 that my debt to you is what lies heaviest upon my mind, and 
 that, if you will give me a helping hand, the paying you will be 
 my first object." 
 
 " No doubt of it, no doubt of it," replied Mr. O'Donagough, 
 " because, of course, I need not tell you that if that is not at- 
 tended to aU's up. You and I have lived long enough to under- 
 stand that, you know. But as to coming to me, and asking me, in 
 
A MISCAERIAGE. 265 
 
 this way, -what you are to do, I must say it looks rather wild 
 and scrambling, Mr. Foxcrofl, and not very promising for your 
 debts of honour, certainly." 
 
 " I am ready to do anything, O'Donagough ! But Heaven 
 knows at this moment I know not where to turn for a pound." 
 
 " And upon my soul, sir, I don't know where to send you 
 for one. There must have been some great imprudence, Mr. 
 Foxcroffc — some extremely awkward management, I am afraid, 
 to have produced so very sudden a catastrophe ; not but what 
 I always thought it would be better for you to leave the 
 regiment. Excepting just your own set, the men about you 
 were the last in the world for you to get amongst. The fact 
 is, that, generally speaking, the English army is not a profession 
 to be carried on with — ^with any other. But, then, I always 
 reckoned upon your selling out, sir, in a way which would have 
 put you in funds to settle with your friends — ^I can't say that 
 I had any idea you would manage matters so clumsily as you 
 have done." 
 
 " For pity's sake, don't reproach me, O'Donagough ! And, 
 upon my honour, I don't deserve it, either ; for it was a mere 
 accident, and no blunder of mine whatever. It was a note 
 that I sent by an orderly, and the rascal took it wrong." 
 
 " A note ! Why you are not such a fool as to write down 
 at fuU length in the moriung, what you have been doing over- 
 night, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Not exactly. But the note was to Dashmore, and the fool 
 took it to Groves, who opened it, as he says, without looking 
 at the direction ; and as it was only signed with a flourish in 
 the shape of the ace of clubs and contained a few sporting 
 allusions, the busybody took it to the colonel, pretending that 
 he thought it was some joke offensive to the honour of the 
 regiment. Then, of course, Dashmore was dragged over the 
 coals, and after shuffling a little, which made matters a thousand 
 times worse, he confessed that he rather thought it was Lieu- 
 tenant Foxcroft's handwriting. So then I was closeted, and 
 very politely advised to sell out." 
 
 " A parcel of precious idiots you seem to have been as I ever 
 happened to hear of," observed Mr. O'Donagough, coolly ; " and 
 with- such sort of management, I cannot say that I think it 
 very likely you would profit by any advice of mine. Not to 
 mention that there wotdd be a pretty strong probability of my 
 being mix^d up in the scrape, if I were to present myself to the 
 pubho eye as your particular friend,, Mr. Foxcroft." 
 
 ^^ The public can't possibly get hold of, it, O'Donagough,'' 
 rephed^ the ex-heutenant, eagerly, " for before I left Brighton, 
 the regiment received orders to prepare for the West Indies." 
 
 " A lucky dog you are then," replied Mr. O'Donagough, 
 ■with somewhat more of condescension in his manner. " In 
 
266 THE WIDOW MAREIED. 
 
 that case you have only to keep quiet till they are oif, and 
 then say you were obliged to sell out on account of your 
 health." 
 
 " That is exactly what I meant to say," replied his com- 
 forted friend; "only I could not hide anything from you, 
 O'Donagough, after your kindness in waiting about that piquet 
 money. I promise you, I shall never know a happy moment 
 till I have paid it, and anything you may happen to think of 
 that may help me to start again, will be just that sum in your 
 own pocket, you know." 
 
 " That's all very well, Foxoroft — ^but it's a devilish deal 
 easier to say what you'll do with money when you get it, than 
 to iind out where it is to be had. I give you my honour and 
 word that, just at this moment, I no more know what to set 
 you at than if I had been born last week. When the season 
 advances, perhaps, it is possible that I might find out some 
 way or other in which you could be useful to me and make a 
 little money into the bargain." 
 
 " And upon my honour, O'Donagough, that is just what I 
 should best like. You are a man of genius, first-rate genius. 
 I've seen enough already to know that, and I am one that 
 would not stop at anything for a Mend whom I admire and 
 look up to as I do you. I won't play piquet with you again, 
 because you are a devilish deal too good a player for me ; but 
 m be ready to do anything else that you may ask, and I'd be 
 as true to you as your own shadow." 
 
 " But there's nothing to be done for the next two months at 
 the very least," repHed Mr. O'Donagough. " The Christmas 
 holidays must be well over before there is a chance of getting 
 a common whist party together, without dreaming of doing 
 anything at the clubs — into the very best of which I expect to 
 get by-and-by. And what are you to do in the meaiitime, 
 Foxcroft? Bath or Cheltenham woiild serve your turn better 
 than London, I should think." 
 
 " I wish you could tell me, my dear friend," said Mr. Fox- 
 croft, abruptly, and with some little embarrassment, " whether, 
 since you have been in town, you have found out anything at 
 aU certain and to be depended on respecting that Miss Perkins 
 you know, that used to be so much at your house at Brighton ? 
 Should you judge from what you have seen, that she had any- 
 thing independent worth thinking about ? 
 
 " Upon my word, Foxcroffc, I won't stand godfather to her 
 ways and means. They seem to be living very decently, in a 
 drawing-room apaa'tment at Brompton, and I should suppose 
 that whatever they have must be their own, and independent. 
 But that is a question which must, as I conceive, be asked 
 ofiicially, before any positive information can be obtained. 
 The only objection to this sort of plain sailing is, the awkward- 
 
EAISING THE WIND. 267 
 
 ness of getting off, if the thing is not likely to answer. But in 
 this case I should not suppose there would be much difficulty 
 about that either ; I am pretty sure there is no brother in the 
 case, and leaving town suddenly for a week or two would be aU 
 that was necessary." 
 
 " WeU, then, my dear fellow," returned Mr. Foxcroft, " wMle 
 waiting for more important business, I see no objection what- 
 ever to my bestowing as much time upon this as may suffice to 
 ascertain whether there is anything to be got worth having. 
 And I do assure you, that one of my chief motives for the 
 speculation will be, the hope of speedily discharging my debt to 
 you. But I must look to the ladies of your family for the means 
 of setting about it. Do you think that Mrs. O'Donagoughwould 
 object to taking me with her to call upon the Miss Perkinses ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, I don't know, Mr. Foxcroft. Mrs. 
 O'Donagough has no carriage at present, nor will the equipage 
 I intend for her be ready till after Christmas. But I suppose 
 the business may be set going, as well by your meeting here, as 
 by paying the lady a visit at her home. If you see your way 
 clearly enough to go on, there will be no need of having Mrs. 
 O'Donagough to escort you on your expeditions to Brompton." 
 
 There was something of dignity and hauteur in this speech, 
 which convinced the aspirant, lover that it would be necessary 
 for him to be rather more cautious in tone and demeanour than 
 formerly. But he was far from being discouraged by this ; on 
 the contrary it only sei-vedto convince him that if there should 
 prove some little difficulty in reaching again the rank of famihar 
 household friend, which he had held at Brighton, it would be 
 more worth having when he did attain it, — a mode of reasoning 
 often acted upon by persons of the ci-devant Heutenant's class, 
 with very excellent and satisfactory results. 
 
 As soon as Mr. O'Donagough had ceased speaking, Mr. 
 Foxcroft rose from his chair, and. drawing a card from his 
 waistcoat pocket, laid it upon the table before his illustrious 
 friend, saying, very respectfully, " For the present, my dear sir, 
 I will detain you no more, either with my hopes or my mis- 
 adventures. That is my address; and I feel confident that 
 now I have put you in possession of my views, your kindness 
 will induce you to give me the advantage of meeting the lady 
 in question at your house, as soon as you can make it convenient 
 to do so." These words were accompanied by a very grave 
 look, and a bow of much ceremony, which seemed to announce 
 the speaker's intention of immediately withdrawing, producing 
 altogether on the mind of Mr. O'Donagough the comfortable 
 conviction, th^it he should always be able to keep his inferiors 
 at a distance, when he chose it ; an idea which so greatly pleased 
 him, that his manner instantly became as frank and famihar as 
 in the days of his Brighton humility. 
 
268 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " No, no, Foxcroft ! you must not go yet," he said. " Sit 
 down again ; I have fifty questions to ask about the set we used 
 to meet at tlie bOliard-room. And besides, you must not go, 
 till I have settled with Mrs. O'Donagough for what day we 
 shall ask the Perkinses. I don't think they are much engaged, 
 so there will be no great difficulty about that. And — I say, 
 Foxcroft, a small quantity of love-making at a time will do, 
 won't it? You must not wear out aU your pretty speeches 
 at once, you know — so I suppose you will have no objection 
 to a rubber, if I can happen to get two good hands to help us ? " 
 
 Smiling inwardly, to think how well he was able to take the 
 measure of his superb friend's greatness ; and outwardly, to 
 show how grateful he felt for all the kindness bestowed upon 
 him, Mr. Foxcroft declared himself delighted at the idea of once 
 more battling for the odd trick with so skilful an adversary ; 
 and reseating himself in the excellent arm-chair he had before 
 occupied near the fire, determined to be as gossiping and agree- 
 able as possible, in order to plant himself as firmly as heretofore 
 in the good graces of the man whom he felt that fate had 
 destined to be his patron. 
 
 Having indulged himself in the flight which has been re- 
 counted above, Mr. O'Donagough relaxed for the next hour 
 into as familiar a strain of discourse as Mr. Foxcroft himself 
 could have desired ; and at length brought it to a conclusion, by 
 saying, "Come along, my fine fellow! Let us mount to the 
 drawing-room, and consult with Mis. O'Donagough on this 
 Perkins party." 
 
 ilr. Foxcroft, nothing loath, prepared to follow him ; and as 
 they mounted the stairs together, his loud, bold laugh preceded 
 them, which caused Mrs. O'Donagough to observe that " It was 
 plain enough he had been well received, or he would not laugh 
 in that free and easy style." 
 
 " Well received ? " repeated Miss Patty, sharply, " and why 
 not, I should like to know ? There are some people who admire 
 him, I can teU you, whatever you may do, and though he has 
 got gray hair and a big nose, that is no reason for you to be 
 uncivil to him." 
 
 " Hoity toity. Miss Patty ! who is going to be uncivil, I 
 wonder ? You have no more idea of dignity, and the sort of 
 consequence attached to a certain style of hving, than a baby. 
 I wouldn't for the world be uncivil either to Foxcroft, or Dash- 
 more, or Willis, or any old acquaintance whatever, and I am 
 sure if the poor dear Sheepshanks were to come over, one and 
 all, they would find me perfectly kind and condescending. But 
 that need not prevent one's showing now and then that one 
 knows what's what, and if you don't, take my word for it 
 you'U — -" 
 
 " I have brought Foxcroft back to you, my dear," said Mr. 
 
AU UNSOPHISTICATED YOUNG LADY. 269 
 
 O'Donagough, entering unceremoniously before his friend, " to 
 fix a day for our asking Mm to dinner. You must come and 
 dine witli us, Foxoroft ; if it is but once and away, for old 
 acquaintance' sake, for you must know I don't mean to give 
 regular dinners tUl tbe season begins. Mrs. O'Donagough will 
 soon begin to receive company in an evening, once or twice a 
 week perhaps. These axe very good rooms for it, and I rather 
 like a rubber you know. But I'm not fond of dinner company, 
 except just in the season. It fatigues me, and, in short, I think 
 it is a confounded bore. But we shall be often glad to see you 
 of an evening, Foxcroft. However, this first time, as I said, 
 you must come to dinner. What day shall it be, Mrs. O'D. ? 
 We'U have the Perkinses the same day, I think." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough was preparing her three chins, and her 
 thick articuiation of dignified words, in reply to this proposal, 
 when she was abruptly checked by Patty's favourite hand-clap- 
 ping, and the joyous exclamation which accompanied it : " That's 
 right, papa ! That will be capital fun, won't it ? Oh my ! How 
 pleased they will be ! That is, I mean about coming to dine 
 here, the iirst time, and all. Of course I don't mean anything 
 else. I'll go myself, mamma, see if I don't, to carry the invita- 
 tion. Do you and papa iix the day, and I'll take care you shall 
 have the company." 
 
 There was something so paralysing to hauteur and elegance 
 in this jolly outbreak, that Mrs. O'Donagough 
 
 Changed her hand, and checked her pride, 
 
 as she answered, " Very well, dearest! You shall go yourself, 
 if you wish it, and the page shall attend you. It is the same 
 affectionate, warm heart as ever, you see. Captain Foxcroft ! I 
 do not believe that either the court or the city will ever change 
 this dear child's generous, unassuming character ! Whatever day 
 will best suit you, Captain Foxcroft, I shall be excessively 
 happy to receive you." 
 
 " Well, then, let's say Monday next, at half-past five, 
 perhaps that means six, you know ; but it's as well to say half- 
 past five, to make you punctual," said Mr. O'Donagough. 
 
 The day and the hour were each welcomed by a bow of grate- 
 ful acquiescence from the invited guest ; who, after receiving 
 one finger from Mr. O'Donagough, two from his lady, and a 
 whole hand, accompanied by a broad grin, from Patty, departed, 
 to meditate on the unexpected and rather puzzling grandeur of 
 his friend and creditor, and to make up his mind as to the 
 smallest sum for which he should agree to bind himself to Miss 
 Matilda Perkins for hfe. 
 
 Hardly had the house-door closed upon him, than Patty, 
 who, according to custom, had flown to the window that she 
 might watch Hs progress down the street, turned sharply round, 
 
270 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 and setting her arms a-kimbo, said, resolutely, "Now then, I 
 shall set off for Brompton." 
 
 'Mi. O'Donagough laughed, and drawing her upon his knee 
 as he sat loungingly in an arm-ohair near her, said, — 
 
 " Well done Patty ! I like you for that, girl. I have a 
 notion that you wiU not be carrying coals to Newcastle. You 
 are a good-hearted girl, that I will say, and ready to do as you 
 would be done by. And talking of that, Patty, I want you to 
 tell me just exactly everything that Sir Henry Seymour did and 
 said the day he came after you to Brompton. They tell me at 
 his club that he is gone out of town, and that's all very well, aa 
 far as it goes, for of course he may have his engagements like 
 any other man, particularly as nobody of his sort of style and 
 fashion ever does show themselves in town till after Christmas, 
 yet stiU I can't help wondering a little that we don't hear from 
 him." 
 
 Patty grew exceedingly red during this speech, and having 
 effectually struggled herself off her father's knee, bounced to the 
 end of the room, and seizing the handle of the lock that she 
 might open the door and escape, turned about and said — " You 
 oftght to be ashamed of yourself, you ought, to ask a girl such 
 questions. It will be pretty times for the young ones, if they 
 are to repeat to the old ones, all that they say to one another ! " 
 
 " Fair and softly, my beauty, if you please," said her father. 
 " Walk back again, Miss Patty, or you may chance to be sorry 
 you didn't." 
 
 The look and tone were of the kind that insured obedience, 
 and the pouting Patty returned three steps into the room. 
 
 " Nearer, miss, if you please, nearer," said the angry parent. 
 Patty made three more steps towards him, and then, apparently 
 to save trouble, he rolled himself forward by the aid of the ex- 
 cellent castors of his arm-ohair, till he was pretty nearly face to 
 face with her. 
 
 " Now then. Miss Patty O'Donagough, let us understand 
 each other. When I see fit, like a kind and affectionate father 
 as I am, to ask you a question of importance about a gentleman 
 that you assure me is in love with you, I don't choose to be told 
 that I ought to be ashamed of myself. I believe your mamma 
 will inform you, if you wiU ask her, that I am not much given 
 to trouble myself about women's gossipings, and that few ladies 
 have been less troubled by the curiosity of a husband than her- 
 seK. But in this business of Sir Henry Seymour there is a good 
 deal more to be considered, I promise you, than merely your 
 fancy in the choice of a sweetheart. He is, as I have ascer- 
 tained, a man of immense fortune, and great consequence. I 
 made his acquaintance on board ship, as well as you. Miss 
 Patty, and I have renewed it too, under circumstances which 
 render it extremely likely that he may be useful to me in one 
 
PATTY DEFIES HER FATIIEE. 271 
 
 ■way or another. If lie is really and truly your lover, and means 
 to marry you, I am too good a father, notwithstanding all your 
 impertinence, to think of anything whatever but your advan- 
 tage, and all other use that I might make of him should he put 
 aside and forgotten ; but I want to know a little how the affair 
 reaUy stands between you. I certainly think that there was 
 something very particular in Ids running after you to Brompton 
 in that eager style, when, as I know well enough, he would 
 have been exceedingly glad to have kept away from us alto- 
 gether. This, as well as the manner in which I found you 
 together, does make it really seem Ukely that those saucy eyes of 
 yours have turned his head, and left him no choice but to make 
 you my Lady Seymour. Now then, I have explained myself, 
 and ■svithout being at all ashamed about the matter, as it seems 
 to me, I may just take the hberty of asking the long and the 
 short of what passed between you. Speak iip, Patty ! don't be 
 afraid. There's nobody going to scold you for having a sweet- 
 heart. What was it the young man said to you? Did he out 
 and out ask you to be his wife ? 
 
 " Well, then, you may kiU me, if you will," replied Patty, 
 blubbering, " but I won't be buUied, that's what 1 won't, into 
 teUing tales of my own true love." 
 
 " The deuce take the girl ! " replied the angry father. " She 
 is a fool after all, I'll be hanged if she isn't, though I fancied 
 her so monstrously clever. I shall go out, Sirs. O'D., and 
 leave her to you ; only remember that I expect to be told whether 
 the young fellow has really promised to marry her or not. I 
 know that he thinks her a good piece older than she really is — ■- 
 but I saw no harm in that, and didn't contradict him. And in 
 short, if he has a fancy for having such a silly girl as you for a 
 wife, I don't mean to baiilk him — that's all. So now fall to, 
 and have a good talk together, and let me know what comes of 
 it, when I come home." 
 
 As a matter of course, the first part of the tete-a-tete be- 
 tween the mother and daughter was occupied by abusing their 
 mankind. Both ladies were equally ready to declare that he 
 was a brute, and a tyrant, and there never was such a plague ; 
 but this portion of the conference having at length been brought 
 to a satisfactory close, Mrs. O'Donagough coaxingly led the dis- 
 course to the subject which she had been commanded to discuss 
 with her daughter, and certainly managed it with some skill, 
 inasmuch as it ended without a quarrel, for which, it must be 
 confessed, the young lady held herself prepared. 
 
 " It is quite nonsense, Patty," she said, " to attempt talking 
 with men about these sort of things ; but to a mother, you 
 know, it is different. A woman never forgets her youth, what- 
 ever a man does, and you need not be afraid to tell me any of 
 the little things that have happened between you and Jack — 
 
272 THE WIDOW MAKErED, 
 
 Sir Henry Seymour, I mean. Of course, you are almost too 
 young as yet- for anything very serious to have passed, but I 
 don't doubt that you know pretty well what he is about— don't 
 you, my dear ? " 
 
 " I am sure I don't know what you are about, nor what you 
 mean, either of you, tormenting me so. I dare say the real 
 reason Jack does not come to see me is, that he saw that morn- 
 ing when papa walked with him, what a horrid sort of plague 
 he was," replied Patty. 
 
 " Likely enough, my dear ! But don't fret your dear heart 
 about that, Patty. He'U come again, never fear. When a man 
 is really in love, he is not so easily cured, I can tell you. I 
 could give you proof of that if I choose it. But Pd rather talk 
 of your own beautiful self, dearest. How did he look when he 
 gave you that lock of his hair, darhng ? " 
 
 " Lord, mamma ! As if I should be hkely to stare him in 
 the face all the time ! I have got the look of hair, and that's 
 enough for you to know, of aU conscience," replied Patty, again 
 growing very red. 
 
 " I wonder how it happened that he left your beautiful ringlet 
 behind him?" resumed Sirs. O'Donagough. 
 
 " Lord ! what wonderments you do make about nothing, 
 mamma ! I should like to know how any one broken in upon, 
 and tormented as he was, could know or remember anything he 
 did or said?" 
 
 " That's very true indeed, Patty ; and when he took that 
 look of hair at first, I suppose he gave you to understand that 
 he loved you dearly, and that it was for that reason he asked 
 for it, didn't he?" 
 
 " Well ! I never did hear the like of you and papa !" ex- 
 claimed Patty, indignantly ; " I should hke to know what it is 
 you do expect me to tell you ? If you win promise not to plague 
 me any more, I will teU you one thing, and if that won't satisfy 
 you, 1 am sure I don't faiow what will — Jack kissed me, then ! 
 downright kissed me. What d'ye say to that? Pm sure I 
 don't know what you would have." 
 
 " Very well, Patty, don't agitate yourself, my dear, to talk 
 any more about it ! I do think his kissing you does say a great 
 deal. Such a very well-behaved young man as he always seemed 
 to be, "would never have thought of such a thing, I am quite 
 sure, if it had not been by way of a declaration," said Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, very gravely, and with every appearance of 
 being extremely well satisfied. "Now go, my dear girl!" she 
 added. " Go and get ready for your walk to Brompton. It 
 will be a pleasure, won't it, Patty, to tell dear, good Matilda 
 that she is to meet her old favourite, Foxcroft? But, poor 
 thing ! I doubt very much, Patty, if he wiH ever think of her 
 seriously. She is so uer^ thiu!" 
 
A GUESS AT GOOD NEWS. 273 
 
 " Matilda won't die an old maid ; she's too good for that, 
 Pm sure," returned Patty, with all the ardour of friendship. 
 
 " Well, my dear, we shall see, said Mrs. O'Donagough, look- 
 ing Tery intelligent. " But go now' and get ready. The page 
 shall walk after you, and that will be very nice, won't it ? I 
 am sure I wish you were to happen to meet Sir Henry 1 He has 
 never seen you in proper style yet." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Pattt and her page reached Belle Vue Terrace in safety, 
 but without meeting Sir Henry, who, to say truth, was stretch- 
 ing his leave of absence to the very utmost, to put off as long 
 as possible the chance of any such rencontre. But fortunately 
 Patty, notwithstanding her early submission to t'ne t<>nder pas- 
 sion, had nothing of the green and yellow nature in her disposi- 
 tion, and reached the abode of her friend with a colour as fresh 
 as a rose, and in the highest spirits possible. 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Matilda! good morning, Miss Louisa," 
 she began. " I should just like to know, Matilda, how much 
 you would choose to give for the very best news that ever 
 you heard in all your born days ? Would you give me your 
 watch?" 
 
 "What do you mean, Patty?" demanded her friend with 
 considerable agitation. 
 
 " Now, can't you guess what I mean? Tell me, honestly, 
 what you should call the best news you ever heard in your hfe ? 
 Never mind Louisa. Speak out." 
 
 " Good gracious, Patty, how you do torture me ! Cruel, 
 cruel girl ! As if you did not know well enough without my 
 teUing you ! For Heaven's sake, let me know at once ! Have 
 you heard that Foxcroft is expected in town?" 
 
 " Upon my honour and life I never heard any such thing, 
 Matilda," replied Patty, very demurely. 
 
 Not all the full-blown, fresh remembrances of the beautiful 
 drawing-rooms in Curzon-street could restrain the indignation 
 of Miss Matilda Perkins on hearing these chilling words. " I 
 vsdsh to heaven you wouldn't come here. Miss O'Donagough, 
 tormenting us to death with your absurd nonsense. I really 
 think you are old enough to know better," she exclaimed. 
 
 " And I," returned Patty, laughing, " should have thought 
 you not only old enough, but a great deal too old to quarrel with 
 your best friend in such a hurry, just because she wanted to 
 have a bit of a joke." 
 
 " Oh dear me ! my dear Miss Patty ! don't think for a mo- 
 ment that poor Matilda wants to quarrel with you. I am sure 
 there is nothing further from her thoughts, for she loves the 
 very ground you walk on. Only you know, my dear, that her 
 
 R 
 
274 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 poor head is for ever running upon the name she mentioned, 
 and therefore you must please to excuse her," said Miss Louisa. 
 
 " I'll excuse her fast enough," replied Patty, " if she won't 
 be such a fool, and look so grumpy. Come, Matilda ! cheer up. 
 It is as true as the gospel that I did not hear Foxcroft was ex- 
 pected, but I never said that he wasn't come." 
 
 " Come ! " screamed Matilda, in the shrillest voice that ever 
 issued from the breast of a lady in love; "come! Patty? Surely it 
 is impossible ! Such happiness is a great deal too much to bear ! " 
 
 " Is it? " said Pattjr, nodding her head. " Then, mercy 
 upon us. Miss Louisa, what will become of her when she hears 
 that the gentleman is coming to dine with us on Monday, and 
 that I am come with the page walking all the way after me, as 
 grand as possible, to invite you both to come and meet him ? 
 What do you think of that, Miss Matilda ? " 
 
 " What do I think of it? Oh! my adored Patty! My 
 heart feels too large for my bosom. Can you forgive me? 
 Darling, dearest girl ! Think what my feehngs must be at this 
 moment ! May I believe your words, my dearest, dearest friend? 
 May I trust my ears ? Foxcroft in town, and I invited to meet 
 him. Oh Foxcroft! Foxcroft!" 
 
 Here poor Miss Matilda's emotions perfectly overpowered her, 
 and she threw herself on the sofa at full length, with a sort of kick- 
 ing movement in her feet that really looked quite convulsive. 
 
 " Poor, dear girl ! " exclaimed her sister, opening a cupboard, , 
 and taking out a small bottle of hartshorn ; " it is too much for 
 her. Smell this, my dear ; let me rub your poor temples with 
 it ! " And suiting the action to the word, she drew the cork 
 from the little phial, and receiving the pungent fluid upon her 
 fingers began to apply it with much eagerness and much friction 
 to the temples of her recumbent sister. The remedy was effectual. 
 Starting from the sofa, and standing, with more strength than 
 the frightened Louisa had given her credit for, upon her feet, 
 she exclaimed rather hastOy — 
 
 " Good gracious, Louisa ; what are you doing to me ? I 
 shall have red patches all over my face, and my eyes will be 
 swelled out of my head. For God's sake, take that beastly stuff 
 away; I hate it? " 
 
 " You had better not send it away yet, Matilda," said Patty. 
 " For if you begin kicking and sprawHng at such a rate just 
 because you heard that you were going to dine with the gentle- 
 man, what on earth will become of you when I go on, and des- 
 cribe all the looks, and the sighs, and the hints, and the bMnks 
 I got when I began talking of you ? " 
 
 " Did you, indeed, my dear? " cried Louisa, with a mixture of 
 
 astonishment and pleasure ; " think of that, Matilda ! Oh! my 
 
 dear child ! what a blessing it wQi be if it all comes right at last." 
 
 , " It will, it win come right ! " exclaimed Matilda, in a sort 
 
A CAUSE FOR THANKFULNESS. 275 
 
 of ecstasy. "I know lie loves me! — I saw it in every dear 
 working feature on that last heart-breaking day when we walked 
 together on the pier. The rain came down in torrents, the wind 
 blew, the sea dashed over us. I never shall forget his counten- 
 ance. I am certain that every drop which reached his skin — 
 and I know he was wet through — ^I am certain that every drop 
 was an agony to him, because of me." 
 
 Here a pocket handkerchief, which might, perhaps, have 
 wiped away tears produced by far less delightful feehngs, was 
 drawn from its retreat under the sofa-cushion, and pressed to 
 the gentle lady's eyes. 
 
 " Oh dear ! oh dear ! don't cry so, Matilda," said her affectionate 
 sister, looking very much disposed to weep for company — " I am 
 sure it is enough to break one's heart to see how she does suffer 
 about these little love-affairs ! But suppose this was to end in 
 marriage after all, MatUda ! Think of that, my dear ! Upon 
 my word and honour. Miss O'Donagough, I think there seems 
 more chance this time, from what you say, than ever I remember ; 
 and I ought to be some judge, we have had so many Mttle things 
 of the kind." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! — You say we, do you. Miss Louisa ? " rephed 
 Patty, looking very knowing. " What, you have had your 
 share, too, have you ? " 
 
 " Oh dear, no ! — Not me. Miss Patty. I never had anything 
 of the sort happen to me in my life. I said we, because you 
 know, I am always so much interested about everything that 
 happens to Matilda. Oh no ! thank God ! I never had any 
 troubles of that kind myself ; but, to be sure, I have suffered 
 terribly at times, about Matilda. Disappointments are such 
 sad things, you know, my dear — ^and gentlemen, I must say, do 
 often behave very Ul." 
 
 " Well, I'll be hanged if I think Foxcroft means to behave 
 ill; but time wiU show!" replied Patty. "And now," she 
 added in a whisper, " I want you to come here, Matilda, up to 
 this window, that I may talk to you a Httle about myself. Do 
 you know that both papa and mamma have been at me to-day 
 like two tigers, because they don't think Jack makes love to me 
 fast enough. If he's out of London, he can't be in it, that's all 
 I say, any more than he could be aboard the ship when he was 
 gone away from it — ^and yet, you know as well as I do, for 
 I'm sure I've told you so fifty times, that he kissed me at the very 
 last moment, and I found him true-hearted again, didn't I, when 
 we met ? and now, he kissed me again, you know, and so haven't 
 I every reason to expect he'll come back true-hearted again ? " 
 
 " Unquestionably you have, my dearest girl ! " replied her 
 friend ; " it is nonsense to doubt it. But old people, I mean 
 even elderly people, are always suspicious. I'm sure, there's 
 my poor, dear sister there, who is twenty years older in hef 
 
 k2 
 
276 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 thoughts and ways than she ought to be at her age, I am quite 
 positively sure that she has stopped very advantageous marriages 
 for me, over and over again ; only because she never thought 
 things went on fast enough, and was for ever suspecting that 
 people meant nothing, when I happened to know that they 
 meant a good deal. But, thanks to you, my darling Patty, I 
 think we shall manage better this time. Dearest Foxcroft ! 
 How my heart seems to spring towards him ! Did he look well, 
 Patty ? — Was he as tall and elegant as ever ? " 
 
 " Why, as to that, you know, Matilda, I never did see any 
 great beauty in him. But that's your affair, not mine, and 
 lucky it is that tastes differ. As for taUness, indeed, he is just 
 as tall as ever — ^but I think his nose looked monstrous large." 
 
 " Oh, Patty ! — Love is love ! There's no aocountiug for 
 it in any other way — ^but I give you my honour, that I think 
 Foxcroft one of the very handsomest men I ever saw." 
 
 " Well, my dear, so much the better. And I dare say he 
 thinks you one of the very handsomest women. But now I 
 must go, or else mamma will say that I shan't come again, as she 
 did last time. Not that it much signifies to be sure, for here I 
 am, you see." 
 
 " Stop one moment, Patty ! " replied her friend ; " you 
 must positively tell me what I shall wear on Monday. Do you 
 think I look best vrith my hair in bands, or in ringlets ? " 
 
 " I don't think it makes much difference, Matilda. But, 
 perhaps, bands wiU be best, because your hair is rather thin, 
 you know — and mine's so monstrous thick, that it will make it 
 look worse." 
 
 " It's very easy to fiU it up with a few flowers, you know — ^I 
 should not hke to have such a mop as yours, my dear — ^unless, 
 indeed, it curled as beautifully as yours does. But, of course, 
 Patty, everybody knows that you have got the very finest hair 
 in the world," said Miss Matilda, luckily correcting herself. 
 After this amende, the friends parted as tenderly as they met, 
 and were in an excellent frame of mind on the following Monday 
 for showing off to advantage the graces of the female character, 
 when warmed by the gentle influence of friendship", for they did 
 not fail to caress each other at every convenient opportunity. 
 
 This eventful Monday proved a day of joy to more female 
 hearts than one ; for on the morning of it, Mr: O'Donagough 
 once more called at Sir Henry Seymour's club to inquire for 
 him, and, with better fortune than before, met him at the door 
 of it. The pleasure which this meeting occasioned to the elder 
 gentleman was not altogether attributable to fatherly affection, 
 for he felt some tolerably strong misgivings as to the correct- 
 ness of the interpretation put by his young daughter upon the 
 gentleman's feelings towards her. But this caused but little 
 difference in the earnestness of his wish to cultivate the young 
 
WHIST VEKSTJS LOVE. 277 
 
 baronet's acquaintance. To have caught such a husband for his 
 daughter, would, beyond all doubt, have been very agreeable ; 
 but, as he wisely remembered, Patty had lost no time yet, and the 
 yoTing and independent Sir Henry playing whist with him, was 
 an image very nearly, if not quite, as agreeable to his imagina- 
 tion, as that of his making love to his daughter. Besides, it 
 was evident that his endeavouring to obtain the former, was far 
 from being likely to impede the latter scheme, and he, therefore, 
 put forth his best-got-up, and most beguiling style of saluta- 
 tion, and after a few friendly words, expressive of long-felt 
 kindness, but cautiously free from any allusion to their nautical 
 acquaintance, he invited him in a very gentleman-like off-hand 
 style to come and dine with him. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough perceived that the young man hesitated, 
 and very skilfully changing the subject, instead of pressing for 
 an answer, began talking of General Hubert and his family, 
 deploring the heavy loss produced by their absence, and joyously 
 anticipating their return. Having expatiated very eloquently 
 upon this theme for about five minutes, he resumed the former 
 one, saying, carelessly, " Well, you'll dine with us then, my 
 dear Sir Henry ? By the way, do you ever play a rubber ? It 
 seems quite the fashion among the yoimg men now-a-days, and 
 if you ever do such a thing, I'U promise you one to-night." 
 
 Now Sir Henry Seymour really did know how to play a rub- 
 ber very well for so young a man, and moreover was very fond 
 of it, though without any propensity whatever for gambling ; 
 yet too indifferent about money to be very scrupulous as to the 
 stakes. It was not, however, this love of whist which made Mr. 
 O'Donagough's invitation appear incalculably less disagreeable 
 after he had heard of the rubber, than before, for he remembered 
 in a moment that when a man is playing whist, he can hardly 
 be suspected of making love, and that if poor Patty could be 
 taught to let him behave himself discreetly, it would be exceed- 
 ingly desirable to keep on such friendly terms with Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough as should render it an act of treachery were he to betray 
 either to the family of General Hubert, or to his guardian. Sir 
 Edward Stephenson, the secret which he had confided to him. 
 Under this impression, he now readily accepted the invitation, 
 not failing to intimate as he did so, that he was a decided whist- 
 player whenever he found a card-table ready to admit him. 
 
 Patty could hardly have been more delighted had the young 
 man addressed her with, " WiU you marry me ? " than was her 
 papa on hearing this declaration ; but much too good a tactician 
 to permit the feeling to be perceptible, he nodded an easy, sans 
 souciante " good day," adding " at six o'clock then," and departed. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough's next care was to secure a proper fourth, 
 and in this he succeeded to his entire satisfaction, imearthing 
 one of those dry-looking, adust, Koman-nosed iadividuals, who 
 
278 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 by diut of originaiiy procuring well-made garments, and then 
 preserving them inviolably clean, are often declared to be very 
 gentleman-like-looking men by those who have not the faculty 
 of interpreting the hieroglyphics of the mind, as traced on the 
 countenance. What Mr. Armondyle's fortune or profession 
 might be, it was no particular person's business to inquire ; and 
 the question, if asked, must have remained unanswered, as 
 nobody knew anything at all about it. The only information 
 which he ever volunteered concerning himself was, that he was 
 a bachelor, liked a sober rubber now and then, and was pleased 
 to be invited to dinner where there were woodcocks. He be- 
 longed to most of the fashionable unprofessional clubs, but was 
 never known to take any bodily refreshment at any of them. 
 He wore goloshes and a very large cloak in bad weather, together 
 with a substantial silk umbrella, having his name engraven on 
 it ; but nobody ever saw him use any conveyance (at his owa 
 expense, at least) except his own legs, yet somehow or other, 
 nobody ever saw him either wet or splashed, or the precise nicety 
 of his dress and person in any way deranged. 
 
 No human being ever heard him say a silly thing ; it is true 
 he did not talk much, carefully avoiding all subjects upon which 
 men divide themselves into parties, so that his opinions were, 
 for the most part, as unknown as his birth, parentage, educa- 
 tion, and means of living. Even the yawning gulf which divides 
 the conservative from the destructive, seemed a broad highway 
 for him, for though nobody ever dreamed of accusing him of a 
 change in principle or opinion, each party fancied he belonged 
 to them in turn ; and as neither could give any better reason 
 for thinking so, than their own arbitrary interpretation of a 
 quiet smile, or a gentle movement of the hand, each were at 
 liberty to believe so still. One or two very old acquaintances, 
 indeed, who fancied that they knew him better, have beenheardr 
 to declare that they did not believe Mr. Armondyle would draw 
 off his right glove to prevent a revolution, or his left to insure 
 it. He knew mankind well enough, they said, to be very sure 
 that, let what would happen, there would always be, somewhere 
 or other, a game at something or other, to amuse idle men who 
 had nothing particular to do ; and with this assurance he would 
 be well contented to go on shuffling and cutting to his dying 
 day, vrithout troubling himself to ascertain who was the better 
 player, and who theworse, in the great game of politics in which 
 he had never been invited to take a hand. It was sometimes 
 gossiped in the clubs that Armondyle had lost immensely, or 
 that Armondyle. had won immensely ; but neither the one report 
 nor the other appeared to have the slightest effect on his manihre 
 d'etre. He was ever the same neat, placid, polite person, whom 
 nothing had occurred to disarrange, and whom it would be 
 extremely difficult to discompose. 
 
DAMAGES FOE INDIFFERENCE. 279 
 
 This gentleman made the dinner-party at Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough's amount to eight ; and as of these four were gentlemen 
 and four ladies, Miss Louisa Perkins was led to observe that she 
 had never seen any dinner-table so perfectly well arranged. 
 
 Of the entertainment it is unnecessary to speak at large ; 
 Mrs. O'Donagough had done her very best. Mr. Wright 
 furnished the wines, which Mr. Foxcroft took upon himself to 
 declare were excellent, and yet the gentleman repaired to the 
 drawing-room the very moment Mrs. O'Donagough sent to say 
 that the coffee was ready ; a good old custom which Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough declared it was his intention invariably to observe, unless 
 some very young men happened to dine with him, and then he 
 should certainly relax a little, he said, as it was never fair to 
 " come the old codger over boys, and if they liked to be a Uttle 
 tipsy, he should always let them be so.'' 
 
 Sir Henry Seymour, however, did not appear to be classed 
 under this category. He produced no alteration in the ordinary 
 arrangement, and if it was even intended, by way of experiment, 
 that he too should get a little tipsy before the card-playing 
 began, this first visit was not considerd as a fitting time for it. 
 
 Though Patty was seated at table next to her " darling Jack, ' 
 she was the one to whom the entertainment seemed the longest 
 and the least agreeable ; for the young man, though good- 
 humoured, and even kind in his manner of addressing her, made 
 no n earer approximation to love-making in his manner than if she 
 had been sixty, and he fourscore. Her father perceived this, as 
 weU as herself, and it was imniediately determined in the little 
 committee on ways and means which sat for ever in his brain, 
 that the young man should pay for the obduracy of his heart at 
 the card-table. Not indeed on the present occasion ; that 
 would be contrary to aU the rules and regulations made and 
 provided in such cases; but steadfastly purposed was Mr. 
 O'Donagough that if it should finally be proved that Sir Henry 
 Seymour was not in love with his daughter, he should pay 
 sharp damages for his indifference. Miss Louisa Perkins, un- 
 troubled by any passion, tender or otherwise, smiled, and ate, 
 and smiled again. Mr. Armondyle endeavoured to make him- 
 self comfortable, which was indeed now, as at every other 
 moment of his existence, his primary object; while Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, who had conceived a sort of mystical idea that 
 he was a person of consequence, poured out civilities upon him 
 with a copious profusion which no sangfroid less' perfect than' 
 that of Mr. Aimondyle could have stood unmoved — ^his most 
 animated reply, however, was but a very shght inclination of 
 the head. But, as of course might have been anticipated, the 
 most animated group in the party consisted of Miss MatUda 
 Perkins, Mr. Foxcroft, and the blushing troop of little loves 
 and graces which were playing between them. 
 
280 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 It was, in t^th, a labour of love, the toilet of Miss Matilda, 
 on that auspicious day ! and equally captious and curious were 
 it to inquire with a critical spirit either into the time consumed, 
 or the effect produced by it. Suffice it to say, that her sister, 
 in the short moment that was left for review before stepping 
 into their hackney-coach, pronounced that she looked "very 
 nice, indeed." 
 
 The result was all that the gentle Matilda's heart required ; 
 for, from the manner, and indeed, from the words of Mr. Fox- 
 croft, it appeared incontestable that he thought she looked very 
 nice too. Obedient to the hint of his patron, this gentleman 
 made the very best use of every moment that preceded his being 
 called, ion gre, mal gre, to take his place at the card table. 
 Never, to be sure, did the most exemplary saint invoke maledic- 
 tions on the fifty-two offending elements which combine to form 
 the hateful abomination called a pack of cards, with more heart- 
 felt zeal than did the dejected Matilda, as she sat forsaken and 
 I forlorn on a couch which commanded the fullest possible view 
 of the form and countenance she loved ! Poor lady ! Surely 
 no female heart under similar circumstances can fail to feel for 
 her. More moving accidents may assuredly be found to employ 
 the historian's pen, — sorrows, wfdch on the face of them bear 
 marks of deeper tragedy, may be recounted, and a reader's 
 sympathy be claimed for sufferings more fatal — but for pure, 
 perfect, unmitigated vexation of spfrit, it could hardly be sur- 
 passed. A lover (within a quarter of an inch a declared lover) 
 to be sitting in the same room with a young lady of thirty-six, 
 and yet absolutely-precluded from the possibility of uttering a 
 single word to her ! Even the pleasure of looking unremittingly 
 in his face was not long allowed her, for Mr. O'Donagough, 
 who naturally felt that the payment of his dinner was not to be 
 risked by the presence of any ladies, old, young, or middle-aged, 
 no sooner, by the course of cutting, lost Mr. Armondyle as a 
 partner, than he unceremoniously requested the female part of 
 the company to establish themselves in the other drawing-room; 
 a piece of tyranny against which there was no appeal, but 
 which made the four ladies rehearse in chorus that well-known 
 sentiment of the fair, namely, " that there is no spectacle which 
 the eye can rest upon, throughout the whole surface of the 
 globe called earth, one-thousandth part so detestable as seeing 
 the only four men in company sit down to whist." 
 
 The banished ladies (poor things !) naturally fell into two 
 tetes-a-tete ; in one of wMch all the minuter circumstances of 
 Mrs. O'Donagough's present and approaching greatness were 
 voluminously rehearsed to Miss Louisa's patient ear, while in 
 the other, the younger ladies resumed the eclogue style, whis- 
 pering rhapsodies respecting their beloved ones. 
 
 The party altogether, however, produced more of the results 
 
EVERYBODY PLEASED. 281 
 
 wished for than generally happens where expectation has been 
 so highly wTovight — our poor Patty being, in fact, the only one 
 disappointed essentially. Mr. O'Donagough had made up his 
 mind to be equally well contented by Sir Henry Seymour's 
 showing symptoms of love-making to his daughter, or money- 
 losing to himself ; and therefore, when he received six five-pound 
 notes from the young baronet, together with a very cordial 
 declaration of their having had an excellent rubber, he was not 
 disappointed. His lady, too much occupied in "tasting her ' 
 comers," as she called devouring the compounds of grease and 
 garlick of which she had superintended the preparation, to have 
 time for closely watching the proceedings of her daughter and 
 Sir Henry felt perfectly satisfied, because she perceived he was 
 talking to her ; and this, together with the unwearied admira- 
 tion of Miss Louisa at everything she saw, and everything she 
 heard, sufficed to make her (ieclare that it was " a most delightful 
 dinner-party." Mr. Armondyle shared the winnings and the 
 satisfaction of his host, being too well pleased at finding a new 
 house to dine at, to permit his being critical at the dinner. 
 Miss Louisa ate a great deal of apple-pie and custard, to which 
 she was particularly attached ; felt conscious that she was a 
 prodigious favourite with the Amphitronia of the feast ; and, 
 better than all, began to entertain very serious hopes that her 
 poor, dear, darling, tender-hearted Matilda would get a husband 
 at last, after all the quantity of cruel disappointments which 
 the perfidious false-heartedness of men had made her suffer._ 
 Sir Henry Seymour was quite as well pleased as any of them. 
 For while the skilful O'Donagough contrived to make him con- 
 stantly remember his own near connection with General Hubert, 
 he set him completely at his ease respecting Patty, whom the 
 wily father spoke of as a mere child, but one greatly petted and 
 beloved by Mrs. Hubert and her daughter. At the moment 
 when this affectionate partiahty was dwelt upon, Sir Henry 
 Seymour might have been seen, had anybody watched him, to 
 fix his eyes upon the object of it with a very naive expression of 
 astonishment ; but his own superlatively sweet temper succeeded, 
 after a short struggle with his common sense, to convince him 
 that it was all very natural, considering how very kind-hearted 
 and affectionate the poor girl was, and how perfectly impossible 
 it was for her to help being vulgar. 
 
 But general as the satisfaction of the company seemed to be 
 —for even poor Patty convinced herself, before the end of the 
 evening, that the difference in Jack was only because there were 
 so many plaguy people watching them — ^ggneral as was this 
 satisfaction, it was nothing in comparison to the heartfelt 
 happiness of the lady and gentleman for whom the entertainment 
 had been originally planned. The feehngs of Mr. Foxcroft, who, 
 as he meditated on the "independence" dwelt on by Mr. 
 
282 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 O'Donagough, became what migM truly be termed desperately 
 attached to the fair Matilda, were gratified in the greatest 
 degree by perceiving that, however favourable the impression he 
 had made upon her at Brighton, he had rather gained, than 
 lost, by absence. For not even in the last trying moments 
 when they had got wet .through together on the Pier, had she 
 shown such unequivocal marks of attachment, as when he trod 
 upon her toe during that day's dinner. Of the state of Miss 
 Matilda herself it would really be difficult to speak at length 
 without deviating from the necessary sobriety of prose ; so 
 elevating, entrancing, soul-subduing were the emotions which 
 took possession of her during the ineffable two hours of their 
 juita-position at the dinner-table. 
 
 Nothing, in short, could in all ways have succeeded better 
 than this opening of the O'Donagoughs' London campaign ; and 
 the busy future rose before the eyes of all, decked in the very 
 brightest colours, and pregnant with all sorts of agreeable 
 possibilities. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 From the day of Mr. Foxcroft's first London conversation 
 with Mr. O'Donagough, he had completely made up his mind as 
 to the hue of conduct he should pursue respecting Miss Matilda 
 Perkins, and for some time he strictly adhered to it. Circum- 
 stances afterwards occurred which occasioned some trifling 
 change ; but the principle continued the same, and no one, 
 judging of his conduct in an unprejudiced manner, could possibly 
 accuse him of inconsistency. To take a step so important in 
 life as that of marriage, without making himself properly ac- 
 quainted with the lady he was to wed, or rather, with all the 
 most important circumstances respecting her, would have been 
 an imprudence of which Mr. Foxcroft, with all his indiscretions, 
 would have been quite incapable. He purposed, however, in 
 the first instance, to assure himself that his tender passion would, 
 beyond aU doubt, be acceptable to> the lady, if future inquiries 
 should authorise a declaration of it ; and this fact would cer- 
 tainly have been satisfactorily established in the judgment of a 
 shyer man than the ex-lieutenant, by the manner iu which his 
 experimental advances had been received. 
 
 Satisfied on this point, the next step in the process was to 
 make a morning visit to the Miss Perkinses at their own dwell- 
 ing, where, after having paid his compliments to them, without 
 any apology for Ijjie liberty, and quite as a matter of course, he 
 ventured to solicit a private audience of the elder sister, according 
 to the mode in which it is usual to request leave to " speak a 
 few words to a young lady's papa." 
 
 In this case, as ia all others of the kind, the proposal for 
 
THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE. 288 
 
 such a conference announced the object of it to all the parties 
 concerned. Even IMiss Louisa, though not particularly rapid 
 in her conclusions, experienced not the slightest doubt on the 
 subject, and turning to her sister with great propriety of manner, 
 she said, " Matilda, my dear, Captain Foxcroft wishes to speak 
 to me upon a little business, I believe. Will you be so kind as 
 just to go out of the room, my dear? " 
 
 In her very inmost heart, perhaps, Miss Matilda might have 
 thought that, considering all that had already passed between 
 them, this ceremony might have been dispensed with ; but, too 
 happy at this near approach of the fulfilment of all her wishes 
 to quarrel with trifles, she turned one look of blushing languish- 
 ment upon her lover, and left the room. 
 
 Mr. Foxcroft waited till the door was closed, and no longer ; 
 nothing in the slightest degree like embarrassment shook his 
 nerves ; he meant to make a straightforward proposal of mar- 
 riage, subject to the possibility of being able to make up, by 
 means of the lady's fortune and his own, such an income as he 
 thought might be sufficient to secure the happiness of the woman 
 he adored. 
 
 Miss Louisa, who (from a sort of " mother-wit," it must be 
 presumed, for no circumstance of the kind had ever happened to 
 her before) was quite aware of what was to follow, placed her- 
 self eicactly in the middle of the sofa, looking a Uttle more 
 demure than usual, and making a movement with her right 
 hand, which indicated that the gentleman was to place himself 
 in a chair opposite, awaited his avowal with great decorum. 
 
 " My dear Miss Perkins, " he began, with a sort of affectionate 
 familiarity that seemed a foretaste of brotherly love, " my dear 
 Miss Perkins, you vaaat, I feel quite sure, have long ago disco- 
 vered the state of my affections — you must be aware that I adore 
 your sister." 
 
 "I certainly have thought, Captain Foxcroft," replied Miss 
 Louisa, blushing a little at the fervour of his expressions, " I 
 certainly have fancied that I saw something hke a Uttle par- 
 tiality." 
 
 " Ah, my dear madam ! " resumed the lover, " such mea- 
 sured language can but iU paint my feelings. But I wUl not 
 pain your sensitive deUcacy by dwelling too exphcitly on the 
 vehemence of a passion which our unfortunate sex has never 
 been able to inspire in yourself. What I would firgt ask is, 
 whether you think your charming sister, to whom I am too much 
 a man of honour ever as yet to have confessed my love, has stiU 
 a heart to bestow on me in return, and whether I may hope to 
 receive in my behalf, the friendly approbation of yourself? " 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! as to myself, Captain Foxcroft, I am sure 
 there is nothing whatever I would not do or say to secure the 
 happiness of my dear sister Matilda in the married state ; for it 
 
284 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 has, indeed, for a good many years, been my very greatest wish. 
 Not, Captain Foxcroft, that this is to argue anytliing against her 
 youngness, for I began to wish it when she was very young, 
 because, I mean, of her great affectionateness of temper, and 
 all that. And then, about her own heart, I think that, may be, 
 if you were just to ask her yourself, it would perhaps be the 
 best means of finding out what she thinks about you." 
 
 " So encouraged, my dear Miss Perkins, I may nerve my 
 courage to the attempt. But, alas ! before I can throw myself 
 at her feet, the odious trammels of the world force from me 
 another inquiry, hardly less necessary, such unhappily is the 
 formation of society, than the first. Before I offer my hand in 
 marriage to your sister, my dear Miss Louisa, it is absolutely 
 necessary that I should ascertain from you whether our united 
 incomes would amount to such a sum as I should deem sufiicient 
 for insuring the happiness of the woman I so fondly adore. My 
 own resources are of the most fixed and unobjectionable kind ; 
 but I grieve to say that, ample as they are for my own expen- 
 diture, I cannot consider them sufficient to secure, without 
 some triiiing addition, such a degree of elegance in our establish- 
 ment as I should wish my wife to enjoy. Will you tell me, then, 
 with the same frankness with which I ask it, what is your sis- 
 ter's fortune ? " 
 
 " I will teU you, sir, without any sort of deception what- 
 ever," replied Miss Louisa, not, however, without some little 
 symptoms of hesitation in her voice and manner. " Of course 
 it is right arid proper that you should know everything ; for 
 who has a right to ask, if it isn't a gentleman who comes for- 
 ward in such an honourable manner to oiFer to be her hiislmnd? 
 But before I come to any particulars, I should just wish to say, 
 that there is not a person in the world that would be happier 
 upon quite a small little income than my sister Matilda. It 
 stands to reason that I must know her if anybody can ; and I am 
 quite certain sure that if she had a good husband she would not 
 care the least bit in the world about money, whether it was a 
 little more or a little less." 
 
 " Charming, disinterested creature ! " exclaimed Mr. Fox- 
 croft, with great emotion. " But do you not perceive, my dear 
 madam, that the less care her noble nature bestows upon such 
 subjects, the more incumbent it is upon the husband she honours 
 with her love to attend to them ? Never should I forgive my- 
 self if I suffered the blind vehemence of passion to hurry me 
 into a step that might bring privation and inconvenience upon 
 her! No, Miss Louisa ; on that point my mind is irrevocably 
 made up. Nothing — ^not even the having to tear her lovely 
 image from my bleeding heart — should induce me to commit an 
 imprudence which, with my views upon the subject, must in my 
 own conscience be classed as a crime. I beseech you, therefore, 
 
PEE-MATKIMONIAL INVESTIGATIOK. 285 
 
 to end this terrible suspense by telling me, -witli all the openness 
 you have promised, the exact amount of your sister's fortune." 
 
 " I will, sir," said Miss Louisa, gravely, and with evident em- 
 barrassment ; " but I am sorry to say that I fear it is not so much 
 as you may think necessary. My sister Matilda has got very 
 little fortune, sir.'' 
 
 A certain relaxation of the muscles about the eyes and mouth 
 of Mr. Foxoroft might have shown a keen observer that the 
 ardour of his feelings was relaxing too ; but ere his words could 
 make this manifest, the possibihty occurred to Mm of his deeming 
 a fortune sufficient under his present circumstances, which Miss 
 Perkins might deem inadequate to the expectations of so dash- 
 ing a personage as himself ; and he therefore replied, not with a 
 frown, but a smile, as he looked round upon the neat httle 
 apartment, " Perhaps, my dear lady, your ideas may be less moder- 
 ate than mine. Your mode of Kving at Brighton, and your com- 
 fortable home here, prove that you must have each of you a sum 
 of money at your disposal by no means to be considered as 
 contemptible." 
 
 Miss Louisa shook her head. " That notion has deceived 
 other gentlemen before you, Captain Foxcroft," said she ; " but 
 the fact is, that the chief part, by far, of what we hve upon be- 
 longs to me. I had three thousand pounds left to me by an 
 uncle of my mother's, a very httle time after I was born, and so 
 it went on, you know, growing more and more, till I came to 
 be one-and-twenty ; and soon after that our father and mother 
 both died, leaving httle or nothing behind them, because he was 
 in an office, and that was what they hved upon. Matilda had 
 all, however, which I am sure was very right and proper ; but 
 it did not come to above five hundred pounds altogether, and 
 the interest of that is no very great matter. But my money, 
 which is in the funds, as well as her little fortune, brings me in 
 just two hundred a-year, and with that we contrive to hve very 
 comfortably, going to the sea every year, and me doing every 
 thing I can, everywhere, to set off Matilda to advantage." 
 
 While Miss Louisa made this long speech, Mr. Foxcroft sat 
 with his eyes steadily fixed upon her ; his countenance during 
 the time undergoing several alterations, of which, however, she 
 was in no degree aware — for the kind-hearted lady greatly dis- 
 liked the task she was thus obliged to perform — and instead of 
 meeting the lover's varying eye, she kept her own steadily fixed 
 upon the border of a night-cap that she was hemming with un- 
 broken perseverance. 
 
 Just as she finished her oration Mr. Foxcroft rose, and, some- 
 what to her surprise, placed himself close beside her on the sofa. 
 In fact, he sat very close beside her — for the sofa was a small 
 one, and she had seated herself, as before stated, precisely in the 
 middle of it ; so, to make more room, she withdrew herself as 
 
286 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 far as the dimensions of the seat would permit, expecting, with 
 considerable anxiety, the answer which he had thus approached 
 her to make. 
 
 Nor did she wait long for the sound of his voice, though its 
 accents came not, in any way, like what she had either feared, 
 or hoped. 
 
 " Oh! do not, admirable Louisa ! do not draw yourself away 
 from me, as if you feared that I could do you injury by my too 
 presumptuous approach ! Alas ! as yet you have no reason to 
 fear me. You know not, as yet, the wild tumult into which you 
 have thrown my soul! Never, no never, did the tongue of 
 woman or of angel recount a story so calculated to pierce to thg 
 very centre of a noble heart, and bind it in chains for ever ! " 
 
 " Sir ! " ejaculated the startled Miss Perkins, without, how- 
 ever, having the very slightest conception of what he meant. 
 
 " Ay — so it is I shall be treated by you ! I abeady see, and 
 feel it all," said Mr. Foxcroft, in a voice which seemed to indi- 
 cate that his heart was nearly broken. " So it is I shall be 
 treated ! How can I expect it should be otherwise ? How can 
 I expect sympathy in feelings that can never be understood? " 
 
 "What DO you mean, sir?" cried Miss Louisa, squeezing 
 herself up in the very furthest corner of the sofa, and looking at 
 him very much, as if she thought he was going mad. 
 
 " Mean, Louisa, — ^what do I mean ? " he replied, but in a 
 tone so meek and gen1;le, as in a great degree to remove the per- 
 sonal terror of murder, ' under the influence of temporary 
 excitement,' which from some recent readings of newspapers 
 had not unnaturally occurred to her. " You ask me what I 
 mean, my too, too charming friend ! Alas ! I have no words to 
 answer you ! For how can I make known — how, by any 
 language used by man, can I hope to explain the vehement 
 revulsion of fesUng which has taken place in my very heart of 
 hearts since first I entered this fatal room ? " 
 
 " Fatal, Mr. Foxcroft ? Fatal ! " exclaimed poor Miss Louisa, 
 all her fears returning at hearing a word which she understood 
 perfectly, and knew to mean something about death. " Indeed, 
 sir, I must beg that you will not speak to me in such a manner 
 as that. I dare say you don't mean anything," she added, from 
 a feeling of compunction, as she marked the exceedingly tame, 
 not to say tender, expression of his eyes, — " but I am rather 
 nervous, and you almost frightened me. However, I am quite 
 sure you did not mean anything : so please to go on about 
 Matilda, that I may let her know what you say." 
 
 " Not mean anything ! Gracious heaven ! what a fate is 
 miue!" exclaimed the gentleman. " Oh Miss Perkins! cease, 
 for pity's sake, cease to beUeve that in what I now say to you, 
 T mean nothing. Be patient with me," he added, gently taking 
 ier hand. " Think not that I mean to offend, tlunk not that I 
 
COOL AS A CUCUMBER. 287 
 
 mean to frighten you ; but, oh! Louisa, there is that within my 
 heart at this moment ■which nmst destroy me if I conceal it, and 
 which may cause you to look unkindly on me were it to be 
 revealed. I could not bear this, Louisa ! " he continued, speak- 
 ing rapidly, and as if to prevent her prematurely answering 
 him ; " I could not bear it. One frown, one angry look from 
 you, would send me from you a raving maniac, — or stretch me 
 at your feet a corpse ! " 
 
 " Dear me, Mr. Foxcroft ! I am afraid you are a very hasty 
 man, and that isn't what makes the best husband. But after 
 all, sir, it is for my sister Matilda to decide, and not me. If 
 you'll be pleased to say at once whether your purpose is to go 
 on with your offer now you have been told all particulars about 
 her fortune, I will let her know it, and then my looks won't have 
 anything more to do with it." Li truth, the looks of Miss Louisa, 
 as she uttered these words, were by no means so civil and so 
 sweet as he had been used to see them ; for she did not hke the 
 passionate way in which he talked, and could not help fearing 
 that, determined as Matilda was to be married, it was not un- 
 likely she might live to repent the not remaining single. 
 
 But Mr. Foxcroft either did not see, or did not heed her 
 looks ; for boldly passing his arm around her waist, he said, " I 
 cannot leave you ! I wiU not be banished thus harshly tUi at 
 least I have made you know all that is passmg in my heart. 
 Let me tell you a story, sweet Louisa ! and let me hear your own 
 judgment on the facts I will lay before you. Will you listen to 
 me, my gentle friend ? Is this too much to ask ? " 
 
 Miss Louisa was not used to being hugged, and she did not 
 hke it. She conceived it to be exceedingly coarse and ungenteel, 
 even from a brother-in-law ; but though very anxious to bring 
 this puzzling interview to an end, she was so terrified at the idea 
 that any rudeness on her part should send off Matilda's odd- 
 tempered lover in a huff, that she very civiUy said, " I wiU hear 
 any story. Captain Foxcroft, that you will please to teU me ; 
 only you ought to recollect that my sister Matilda must be in 
 great suspense aU this time, and so I think you ought to make it 
 as short as you can: and besides, sir, I will be much obhged if 
 you -wall please to take your arm away, because it makes me sit 
 very uncomfortable." 
 
 Mr. Foxcroft withdrew his arm, whUe with the other he 
 made a flourish in the air that ended by slapping his forehead 
 in a manner which inferred great mental suffering, and then 
 changing his place to a chair, which he drew to a point exactly 
 opposite to the lady, he thus addressed- her. 
 
 " There was once a man, doubtless with many faults, but 
 formed by nature with a heart the most tender and the most 
 true that ever beat within a human breast. This man was 
 thrown by fate into the society of two lovely, graceful, Intel- 
 
288 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 lectual women, whose manners, marked by that peculiar tone of 
 delicacy which his soul most loved, had for him a degree of 
 captivation which he found it impossible to resist. He was a 
 military man, and so wedded to his profession, that he long 
 struggled against every thought of any other marriage, know- 
 ing, from having watched the same effect on others, tliat where 
 the sword is not the only bride, the steel-braced panoply of war, 
 is apt to gall the wearer. However," continued the gentleman, 
 with a deep sigh, " his fate was busy with him, and all his most 
 steadfast purposes seemed melting into air. Of these two 
 enchanting sisters, there was one — the eldest — " and here 
 another sigh impeded, for a moment, the fluent utterance — 
 "one — the eldest," he resumed, " who was formed in a mould 
 which was the very model which nature had seemed to stamp 
 on the imagination of this unhappy man as the pattern of all 
 he was born to admire and to love. But he fancied he per- 
 ceived a coldness towards him in her manner. He was not a 
 presuming man ; and this idea chilled all hope within him ! He 
 looked — he could have loved — ^but dared not — and turning for 
 consolation to the softer-seeming younger sister, he met a degree 
 of encouragement which led him to hope that if the ecstatic 
 bliss of possessing her he adored was denied him, he might be 
 soothed and lulled to peace and forgetfulness by one who in 
 some degree resembled her. But woe to him who fancies he 
 can play tricks with the mighty god of love, and juggle with 
 him for felicity ! Just at the very hour when the unhappy man 
 had made up his mind to marry the younger sister, such a 
 glorious record of the heavenly-minded virtues and angelic 
 high-mindedness of the elder was disclosed to him, that all his 
 idle efforts not to love her fell, hke the withered leaves from the 
 sapless trees of autumn, and left him defenceless to endure the 
 storm of irresistible passion that rushed upon his heart. A few 
 agonising moments of self-examination followed, but when these 
 were over, the manly firmness of his mind returned. He felt 
 that if from a mistaken sense of honour he should persevere, 
 and become the husband of the younger sister, his rebellious 
 heart would cause lier misery, as well as his own ; whereas if he 
 could succeed in obtaining the elder, their days would flow in an 
 endless circle of unceasing bliss, that might teach the very gods 
 to envy ! " 
 
 Here the orator paused, and gazed earnestly on the &ce of 
 the lady he addressed, but not all his acuteuess could avail to 
 discover what she thought of him. 
 
 " Say, Louisa ! speak ! " he passionately resumed ; " was 
 this man wrong in acknowledging his unconquerable love, ere 
 it was yet too late to save the charming younger sister from the 
 dreadful fate of throwing herself away upon one who could not 
 love her ? Say, was he wrong ? " 
 
.J/f>z>'z^2r' y.'ut/i^i'Ui^/irc a€.<r/a'(^(^€^i/ 
 
A DECIDED REFUSAL. 289 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. Foxoroft, I am no very good judge 
 of such matters, because they are quite out of my way," replied , 
 Miss Louisa. " But it seems to me, sir, that it was a pity the . 
 gentleman did not know his own mind sooner." , 
 
 " And who, think you, was this erring man? " replied Fox- • 
 croft ; " who think you was the angeho woman who had this 
 power over him ? Oh ! Louisa ! " he added, throwing himself 
 on his knees before her, determined, as it seemed, to stake all on 
 this bold throw, "oh! Louisa! it is yourself! Speak to me, 
 adored Louisa ! Tell me my fate in one soul-stirring word — 
 WiU you be my wife ? " 
 
 The lady rose from her seat, and extricating her hands by a 
 sudden jerk from the grasp of her lover, she slipped her thin 
 person round the corner of a table that seemed to fasten her in, 
 and reaching the door, laid her hand upon the lock ; but before 
 she opened it, she deliberately turned round, and faced the stOl 
 prostrate gentleman, saying in a very quiet voice, " No, indeed, 
 sir, I wiU not." Then making her exit, she entered the little 
 bedroom behind, and found strength in her very honest indigna- 
 tion to recount to the palpitating MatUda this terrible termina- 
 tion of her love-affair. 
 
 In what way Mr. Foxoroft got out of the house was never 
 known ; but it is presumed that he opened the front door for 
 himself very quietly, as the maid, when summoned to run out 
 for two pennyworth of hartshorn, deposed that she had neither 
 seen nor heard anything of him. 
 
 It is so very easy to guess aU that Miss Matilda felt, and 
 most of what she said, on this melancholy occasion, that it is 
 unnecessary to describe it. One observation, however, which 
 she made at the interval of some days after the scene above 
 described, being more peculiarly her own, shall be repeated. 
 Feeling herself totally unable to face her gay and blooming 
 friend in Curzon-street, the wOow- wearing Matilda had con- 
 fined herself entirely to the house for four days, saying little on 
 the subject to her sister, with whom, for some reason or other, 
 she did not appear to be well pleased, and appearing to find 
 more consolation in darning a quantity of old stockings, than 
 in anything else. On the fifth day Patty and her page set off 
 upon a voyage of discovery, and despite the reluctance of the 
 f^r sufferer to enter upon the history of her disappointment, her 
 young friend persevered in her affectionate inquiries till she ha,d 
 got at the feet that Mi-. Foxcroft feared they should not be able 
 to make up enough between them to live upon comfortably. 
 
 Of the transition of his affections to her sister, she said 
 nothing, having extracted from Louisa, who felt a good deal 
 ashamed of the whole affair, a willing promise never to mention 
 it to anybody. Having listened to this valedictory piece of 
 prudence, Patty indulged in some strong language expressive of 
 
290 ' THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 lier indignation of what she called such " dirty false-heartedness," 
 and declared that she was very sure there never had been such 
 an abominable tiling done before, since marriage was invented 
 between Adam and Eve in Paradise. " But," she added, with 
 much practical good sense, " there is no use in your breaking 
 your heart, you know, because he is a rogue and a villain, and if 
 I was you, Matilda, I'd make love before his very eyes, with the 
 first man that was in the humour for it." 
 
 " And so I would, my dear," rephed Matilda, roused by this 
 agreeable project of revenge into a Uvelier frame of mind than 
 she had enjoyed since her misfortune ; " only it is so monstrous 
 disagreeaMe to have the same thing happen again and again." 
 
 " I am sure that's nonsense, Matilda, for it isn't very likely 
 that such a queer thing should happen twice to the same person. 
 However, to make that safe, I would always take care that every- 
 body should know exactly how much I had got — and then you 
 know there can't be any mistake. And I'U tell you what, my 
 dear, 'tis as clear as hght that papa means to have lots of men 
 coming of an evening just as he did at Brighton, you know, and 
 we shaE have capital fun again, if you'll only snap your fingers 
 at Foxcroft, as I shall do at Sir Jack, if he does not choose to 
 come round again, nasty, cold-hearted, ungrateful fellow ! But 
 you don't suppose I mean to put 'my finger in my eye as if there 
 wasn't another man in the world ? Not I, Matilda, take my 
 word for it. But now I must go — for mamma has found out some 
 old lord that she knows, and expects him to call to-day, so she 
 insisted upon it that I should come back to be shown off. Cheer 
 up, my dear, and I'll find plenty of beaux for you, never fear." 
 
 With this comforting assurance Patty departed, and the two 
 sisters were left alone to meditate upon her words. 
 
 " Sweet, kind-hearted creature she is, to be sure ! " said Miss 
 Matilda, after a silence of some minutes ; "it is quite impos- 
 sible not to love her! — and I am quite sure she is right too, about 
 me. She is an uncommonly sharp girl, for her age, and catches 
 things quicker than anybody I ever saw. That about letting 
 everybody know, was excessively clever of her. Don't you think 
 it was, Louisa ? " 
 
 " Letting everybody know about your only having five hun- 
 dred pounds, MatUda ? Why I am sure if the douig it would 
 prevent any more such horrid adventures, I should think it was 
 the best thing that could be done. Only, my deai, I don't think 
 it would answer about your getting married, which I am afraid 
 you have stiU got in your he^. Don't you think, my dear, that 
 perhaps the best thing would be to give it up altogether ? I am 
 sure it would save you a deal of trouble and vexation, Matilda." 
 
 Poor Miss Perkins was almost terrified when she perceived, 
 ■by the heightened complexion of her sister, how very distasteful 
 this proposed improvement of their plans was likely to be. 
 
HOW TO GET A HUSBAND. 291 
 
 " I ■msh, Louisa, that you were not always forgetting the 
 enormous difference in our ages," she replied, tartly. "It is 
 all very well for you to talk of making up your mind against 
 marriage, but you must please to recoUeet that it may not be 
 quite so easy for me. When I find myself noticed hke other 
 young women, I should like to know howl am to help thinking 
 about marriage? I am sure it is very shocking, and very 
 wicked, not to be thinking about marriage when people are 
 making downright love to one. What would you have me 
 think about, I wonder ? " 
 
 " Well, my dear, I dare say you know best,'' returned the 
 unresisting Louisa. " And God knows that my first wish is 
 that you should be made happy and contented, if I did but 
 know how to bring it about." 
 
 " You could bring it about, Louisa, easy enough if you really 
 wished it," repHed the younger sister. 
 
 " Good gracious ! how, Matilda ? " returned the elder one. 
 " I am sure I never in my Ufe did anything to stop your getting 
 married, whatever I might think about it in my own heart." 
 
 " I did not say you did," rephed Matilda, in the sharp tone 
 to which her quiet senior was a little too much accustomed. 
 " But there is a great difference, you know, between not stop- 
 ping a match, and doing something sisterly to help it on." 
 
 " But what can I do, Matilda? Nobody would marry you 
 a bit the more for my telling them to do it." 
 
 " But there is a way, Louisa, that if you would put it in 
 practice, would take me off your hands in no time." 
 
 " Is there ? Then I wish you would teU me what it is, my 
 dear. Not that I want to get you off my hands, Matilda ; I 
 am sure I love you very dearly indeed, but certainly it would 
 make me a deal happier if I could see you easy in your mind," 
 said the kind lady with something very like tears in her eyes. 
 
 " Can you have any doubt, Louisa, after all you have seen 
 and heard, that if you were to make over to me half your for- 
 tune — only half, mind — I should find husbands enough ready to 
 marry me ? " said Matilda, in rather a bitter accent. 
 
 " Indeed, I am afraid you might find plenty, my dear." 
 
 "Afraid! What do youmeanbyafi-aid? Isn't that cruel, 
 savagely cruel, when you know it is the first wish of my heart ? " 
 
 " But surely, Matilda, it cannot be the first wish of your 
 heart to have a husband that could be bought for £2,576 10s., 
 which is just half what I stand for in the stocks." 
 
 " It is very easy, Louisa, to turn the most serious things 
 into ridicule. And as to what I would, and what I would not 
 do, I must certainly be old enough to decide for myself. I am 
 the best judge of what is for my own happiness. It is no good 
 now, to dispute that — I have made up my mind to ask you, 
 Louisa, and I now do it in an honest, straightforward manner. 
 
 8 2 
 « 
 
292 THE WIDOW MAERIED. 
 
 Will you let me tell Mrs. O'Donagough, who is truly a friend 
 to both of us, and would take caxe to make proper use of the 
 information, will you let me tell her, Louisa, that my fortune is 
 rather more than three thousand pounds — ^because of my own 
 five hundred, you know ? " 
 
 "I don't belieye, Matilda," repUed Miss Perkins, very 
 gently, " that I could prevent your telling Mrs. O'Donagough 
 anything you liked. But as to the thing itself, it is certainly 
 what I do not intend to do." 
 
 On receiving this definite answer, the indignant Matilda 
 suddenly made a large roll of her rather untidy-looking work, 
 and thrusting it under the sofa, left the room. 
 
 " Poor thing ! " murmured Louisa, as she shut the door, 
 which had been banged, but not closed. " Poor thing ! — she 
 shall have it all when I die. But God forbid I should spend 
 £2,575 10s. to buy such a man as Captain Poxcroft for her, 
 and she stiQ so well-looking, as she says — ^I am sure it would 
 be very wicked if I did." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVn. 
 "No GO, my dear fellow ! — ^I must find out some other scheme," 
 said Mr. Foxcroft, in a bravado sort of tone, as he entered 
 with a swing into the sanctum of Mr. O'Donagough's hbrary, 
 " Matilda Perkins has absolutely nothing." 
 
 " Then how the devil do they, contrive to live?" demanded 
 Mr. O'Donagough, knitting his brows with an expression that 
 was by no means concihatory. 
 
 " 'Ihe money all belongs to the old one," replied his friend. 
 
 " All ! Then, Foxcroft, you may make just twice as good a 
 thing of it as you hoped to do. Contrive to pick a quarrel 
 with the youngest ; turn about and fall in love with the eldest, 
 and you will exactly find yourself master of aU, instead of half. 
 I presume you are not very particular as to which of the two 
 ladies you get with it ? " 
 
 " No, not I. But I am not quite such a fool as you seem 
 to take me for, O'Donagough. I had wit enough to hit upon 
 that scheme myself, and I tried it too, in pretty tolerable good 
 style, I can teU you. But I might just as well make love to 
 your iron coal-box there as to the old one. Egad, I never saw 
 such a cold blooded old jade in the whole course of my Ufe. 
 She listened very quietly, but with just about as much sensi- 
 bility as a post ; and the real truth is, that women never do 
 listen to love-making when they have got money, in the same 
 way as when they have not." 
 
 " That is very likely, Mr. Foxcroft, and probably your own 
 experience has suggested the observation ; but I must beg leave 
 to observe that it affords vastly httle comfort to me, under my 
 
A gentleman's honouk at stake. 293 
 
 extremely inconvenient disappointment. I should be sorry to 
 press any gentleman uncivilly ; but you must be aware, sir, that 
 affairs of this kind are very peculiar as to their immediate con- 
 sequences. My name has just been put down by Sir Henry 
 Seymour at two of the first-rate clubs, and you must know that 
 it wiU be impossible for me to permit our acquaintance to 
 continue under circumstances, excuse me, Mr. Foxcroft, so very 
 disgraceful." 
 
 This was listened to with a wonderful degree of gentleness 
 and equanimity, not a shadow of anger appearing on the long- 
 visaged countenance of the ex-lieutenant. 
 
 " True, O'Donagough, true as gospel ! " he replied, " and if 
 bleeding me could pay the money, upon my soul I'd hold out 
 my arm for the operation. But what on earth can I do, my 
 dear sir ? I have never gone out of the gentlemanlike line yet, 
 and I should be monstrous sorry to do it, because you know it 
 is so devilish hard to get up again. But if there is nothing else 
 for it, I suppose I must e'en submit, and get enrolled among 
 some set of regular equalisers of property. God knows I would 
 do anything rather than not settle my account with you." 
 
 " Welly sir, that is feehng and speaking exceedingly like a 
 gentleman ; and I beg to say in return that no man would be 
 more unwilling than myself to harass a man of honour, under 
 such circumstances. But the fact is, Foxcroft, and you know it 
 very well, that if this transaction between us is not closed, and 
 settled, you are, in point of fact, placed quite beyond my power 
 to help you. I know, therefore, but of one mode by which I 
 can prove how sincerely I stiU. feel myself your friend, but this 
 mode I cannot adopt without placing a degree of confidence in 
 you which the length of our acquaintance, perhaps, hardly 
 warrants. Professions at such a moment, we all know, come 
 easily, and therefore if I consent to return the I O U which I 
 hold, it must be done upon condition of your immediately giving 
 ■ms proof that you areready to go aU lengths to deserve it." 
 
 "Name youc-proofe, O'Donagough!" exclaimed Foxcroft, 
 eagerly, and with the refreshed aspect of a man to whose parched 
 and despairing looks the revivifying cup of hope is once more 
 offered ; " name your proofs, and if I shrink from them, pro- 
 claim what has passed in every gaming-house in London." 
 
 " Foxcroft !" replied Mr. O'Donagough, with a very unusual 
 degree of solemnity, " I will speak to you with the most perfect 
 sincerity. The truth is, that in order to carry out the purpose 
 I have in view, I must trust somebody, and it is obvious, my 
 good friend, that the most eligible person upon whom such con- 
 fidence can be reposed, must be one whose reputation is in my 
 power. This, to a man of your capacity and clear compre- 
 hension, is preface enough; and I shall therefore proceed at 
 once to state what I shall require of you. The proofs to which 
 
294 THE ■WIDOW MAKEIED. 
 
 I have alluded, will be given on your part by the skill and the 
 will with which I shall see you conduct yourself on the first 
 occasion that they may be called for." 
 
 No hungry dog, waiting with watery mouth for the scraps 
 expected to fall from his master's hand, ever fixed his eye upon 
 that master with sharper eagerness than Mr. Foxcroft now did 
 upon the face of Mr. O'Donagough. 
 
 " You may well look anxious to hsten to me, my good 
 fellow," resumed the master of the house, with a benignant 
 smile, " for if I do not greatly miscalculate, a much finer career 
 is at this moment about to open before you, than you can ever 
 have hoped for, during the whole course of your existence. In 
 my younger days, Foxcroft, I was once fortunate enough to 
 pass a season in Paris under very favourable auspices. The wig 
 which it suits me to wear now, my good fellow, may perhaps 
 render it rather difficult for you to befieve what a capital good- 
 looldng, dashing blade I was, some five-and-twenty years ago. 
 This helped me very greatly. I had one exceedingly serviceable 
 introduction, and the rest of my good fortime grew out of it. 
 In short, I had the entree to some of the best houses in Paris, 
 by which, as I presume you wUl conjecture, I do not mean the 
 mansions either of the richest, the highest-born, or the most 
 illustrious, in any of the ordinary and old-fashioned senses of 
 the word. But in its way, the society I was thrown amongst 
 was perfect, and I do not beUeve that even yet there are many 
 houses in London which receive exactly on the same principle as 
 those of which I speak in Paris. In the first place, high play 
 is here almost entirely confined to the clubs; an exceedingly 
 clumsy way of using an exceedingly good thing. Of the 
 immense advantage and utility of these gambling clubs to 
 society, of course nobody in their senses can doubt ; neverthe- 
 less, there are many httle pecuEarities of play among many very 
 fashionable and highly-distiaguished men, which render the 
 variety afforded by meeting quite young players in a private 
 drawing-room extremely convenient and agreeable. 
 
 " Of such drawing-Tooms, Foxcroft, thef? are abundance 
 in Paris, and I am determined that there shall at last be one 
 here. How it will answer of course remains to be proved ; but 
 in this, as in every other experiment, almost everything depends 
 upon the style and manner in which it is made. One essential 
 feature in the scheme, and one, as you wiU beKeve, never lost 
 sight of in Paris, is the obtaiuing by some means or other such 
 a sprinkling of really good company, according to common 
 wdgar parlance I mean, as may act as a decoy, or rather as an 
 authority for the presence of such tyros as are at once, perhaps, 
 the most difficult to lay hold of, and the most valuable when 
 caught. In this respect I am very pecuharly well situated, and, 
 indeed, I question whether without this advantage I should 
 
A DIGNIFIED APPODfTMENT. 295 
 
 have ever ventured upon the scheme at all. My •wife's con- 
 nections are, as you know, of a class that renders the presence 
 of any of them a guarantee for the perfect respectability and 
 bon ton of the salon in which they are seen, and though General 
 Hubert and his family are at this moment abroad, Frederic 
 Stephenson, a much more manageable person, by the way, than 
 the stiif-backed general, comes to town immediately after 
 Christmas, and will, I feel no doubt, extend to me exactly the 
 sort of protection I want, and that, too, without having the 
 sKghtest consciousness that he is doing it. There is a certain 
 nobleman, also, an old crony of my wife's, who is already in 
 town, and has promised to visit her. I have inquired about 
 him, and find he is the very man for us — sufficiently easy and 
 Hberal-minded to go wherever he can be amused, yet not at aU 
 permitting himself to drop out of good society. The two men 
 you met here the other day at dinner, are, each of them in his 
 respective way, highly valuable. Armondyle is one of the best 
 and most gentlemanly players in London ; and Seymour, as I 
 am told, about the richest quite uncontrolled young man about 
 town. Of course, if I get into the clubs, my list will rapidly 
 increase ; but you must be aware, my good friend, that let me 
 get who I win here, nothing effectual, nothing masterly, can be 
 done without a coadjutor. You understand me? Are you 
 willing to become such?" 
 
 With the air of a hero about to pledge his untarnished faith 
 to the maintenance of some noble enterprise, Mr. Foxcroft held 
 out his hand, and solemnly received that of O'Donagough in 
 its grasp. " Let me hold this station near you, my most vahied 
 friend," he said, " and never shall you repent the choice. You 
 have probably perceived something in my manners, and in my 
 character, which has led you to believe that I am not altogether 
 unworthy of, or tmfitted for, this situation ; and without un- 
 seemly boasting, I may venture to say that you are not deceived. 
 I am conscious that I may have many things against me, but, 
 nevertheless, I am conscious also, that I possess both faculties 
 and qualities which peculiarly fit me for the task. The outhne 
 of your scheme is distinctly clear before me ; the filling up 
 must, of coiirse, depend both upon circumstances and your own 
 individual inchnations. You have mentioned Sir Henry Sey- 
 mour, for instance, and there can be no doubt in the world that 
 he is quite a first-rate man to obtain as a frequenter of your 
 salon. But, between friends, I should have thought that you 
 had other projects for him. I have a great notion that your 
 beautiful Patty has a fancy for him, and it would be a capital 
 match, O'Donagough. However, that's your concern, not 
 mine. I can have no objection to yom: throwing open the 
 preserve, as it were, and letting us share and share alike, if you 
 think that a more profitable scheme than the other," 
 
296 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " Why, I am not sure that I should, Foxcroft, if that other 
 were fairly in my hands to take or to leave ; but I doubt it. I 
 know perfectly well that the young feUow has been devilish 
 sweet upon her, and that the poor little soul is over head and 
 ears in love with him ; but I strongly suspect that he never 
 thought seriously about her, and that he has only been amusing 
 himself by turning her young head for pure fun — a suspicion, 
 as you wiU readily believe, not veiy likely to make me spare 
 him at the board of green cloth. I have' a hold upon him too, 
 upon which it is not necessary to enter now, that I think wiU 
 keep him effectually within my reach, and, aS'-he will serve me 
 as a decoy duck, and a pigeon, I mean, remember, in all ways 
 to cultivate his acquaintance, and stand well in his eyes." 
 
 " It shall not be by fault of mine if you do not," replied the 
 faithful associate ; and presently added, with the air of one who 
 was making a very shrewd remark, " By the way, O'Donagough, 
 that daughter of yours is a charming creature, and will count 
 for something, you may depend upon it, among the attractions 
 of your drawing-rooni." 
 
 " That is exactly what I have been thinking myself, Fox- 
 croft; and to say the truth, I am not altogether sorry that 
 there is no chance of her being caught up by this Sir Henry 
 immediately. She is very handsome — ^I never saw finer eyes in 
 my life ; and when she is a little more used to company, she will 
 tell more in a drawing-room than she does now. I own that I 
 wish her mother was not quite so large, — she would be an 
 exceedingly fine woman still, if it were not for that. Just such 
 a looking woman as she was, when I first knew her, is the very 
 best partner a man can have in such a concern as we have been 
 speaking of. She has a great deal of talent, however, and I 
 have no doubt will do exceedingly well." 
 
 " There can, indeed, be no doubt of that,'' replied Mr. 
 Foxcroft impressively; "and now, my dear friend," he con- 
 tinued, " let us come to particulars. Let me understand exactly 
 your projects, your expectations, your arrangements. It is im- 
 possible to doubt for a moment your liberality ; but in a business 
 of this kind it is as absolutely necessary that everything should 
 be openly expressed between the associates, as that nothing 
 should be openly expressed beyond them. Here is pen and ink. 
 Give me leave to set down from your own lips, precisely the 
 terms on which you propose that we should carry on together 
 this admirably-imagined scheme. Yet, imagine not from the 
 phrase, carry on together, that I have any notion of a perfect 
 equality as to the division of what may result from it ; nothing 
 like it, I assure you. I am perfectly aware that your stake is 
 greater, not to mention that the merit, all the merit, of origi- 
 nating the plan is your own. I say this, that you may under- 
 stand at once the fair and gentlemanly feeling with which I am 
 
A HUSBAND FREE OF JEALOUSY. 297 
 
 desirous to proceed. And now, my dear O'Donagougli, for 
 particulars." 
 
 'F 1|p T^ Tit If? 
 
 WMle this conversation was going on in the library, a scene 
 almost equally interesting, was passing in the drawing-room. 
 Mr. O'Donagough haying learnt, by some means or other, that 
 his lady's former admirer, and what was more important as a 
 trait of character, the magnificent donor of her shell necklace, 
 was in town, proposed, with what she sensibly felt to be a very 
 generous freedom from all narrow-minded jealousy, to take some 
 active measures towards the renewal of an acquaintance from 
 which, as she freely confessed, she had derived much pleasure. 
 
 " But not for the world, my dear Donny," she said, on his 
 proposing this, " not for the world would I wish Lord Muckle- 
 bury to visit here, if his doing so would give you uneasiness. I 
 will not deny, I never have denied, that at the time we parted, 
 I regretted the unfortunate entanglement abroad, which obliged 
 him to leave me. But subsequent events have, of course, recon- 
 ciled me to this early disappointment, and I feel that I could see 
 him now and introduce him " to my husband and my child, 
 without experiencing any emotion whatever, beyond what the 
 purest friendship may authorise." 
 
 " Very weU, then, my dear," Mr. O'Donagough had replied, 
 " that being tlie case, you shall sit down and write a note to 
 him immediately, just saying, you know, that you should like 
 to return your personal thanks for his having so kindly thought 
 of you in the city of the Caesars, or something of that kind, 
 which shall look light and playful ;^you understand ?" 
 
 " Oh ! perfectly ! " she replied. And this light and playful 
 bdlet produced an answer from the still laughter-loving noble- 
 man, which perfectly satisfied Mr. O'Donagough, and caused a 
 very animating and youthful sort of flutter to pervade the 
 entire frame of his sensitive wife. 
 
 It was exactly at the time that Mr. O'Donagough was the 
 most earnestly engaged with Mr. Foxcroft in the conversation 
 that has been given above, that Lord Mucklebury made his 
 entree into the drawing-room of his umquhile Barnaby. His 
 lordship's note in promising this visit, had said, " Lord Muckle- 
 bury will take an early opportunity." and accordingly Mrs. 
 O'Donagough had sat in state in her fine drawing-room every 
 morning since, from midday to the hour of dinner, attired with 
 a degree of captivating elegance which it had cost her some 
 hours of meditation to devise. Her great object was to look as 
 nearly as possible like what she had been some eighteen years 
 before, when his lordship had made her poor heart leap like a 
 porpoise after a storm, by addressing her as " Mia Barnabhia!" 
 In unfading ringlets, and unfading rouge, she had great confi- 
 dence, and her eyes too, she thought, had stood the test of time 
 
298 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 with almost unfading brightness. But she could not, poor lady! 
 conceal from herself the disagreeable fact that of late years 
 she had become what friends call embonpoint, and unfriends, 
 corpulent. She felt, alas I that she was unwieldy ; and that the 
 majestic cMrpenie, which had formerly assisted so largely (a 
 villainous pun of Mr. O'Donagough's) in obtaining for her the 
 epithet of " a prodigious fine woman," was become by the gra- 
 dual increase of its fleshy clothing of a size by no means easy to 
 dress gracefully. Of this she was, if not wholly, at least, in a 
 great degree, conscious; and to neutraHse the effects of this 
 substantial impediment to beauty, she had for many days been 
 occupied (but, unlike her general habit, silently occupied) on me- 
 ditating the form and material of the dress in which she should 
 for the first time re-appear before the eyes of Lord Mucklebury. 
 The reader need hardly be told at this stage of her history, 
 that Mrs. O'Donagough's mind was one of no common order. 
 If it had been, she would, beyond all question, have had re- 
 course in this emergency to the ordinary and every-way vulgar 
 operation of tight lacing. But Mrs. O'Donagough knew bet- 
 ter. She knew perfectly well, that though it may be possible 
 to transfer matter, it is beyond human power to annihilate it, 
 and although under the circumstances she might have been 
 tempted to exclaim. 
 
 Oh ! that this too, too solid flesh would melt ! 
 
 she never for a moment was guilty of the folly of hoping that 
 she might be able to make away with it. With this right- 
 minded conviction fully impressed upon her, she gave herself to 
 the study of her toDet, not with the vain hope of lessening her 
 circumference, but with the rational intention of rendering it 
 as little conspicuous as possible. " The general outline," thought 
 she, " must be indistinct. A sort of floating maze of drapery 
 ought to fflivelop such a form as mine, in wHch the eye cannot 
 justly determine where the natural material ends, and that of 
 the dress begins — a sort of vapoury, misty, decoration should 
 fall around the shoulders, from among wMch the stiU handsome 
 face should appear, like that charming portrait that I made 
 Donny stop to look at the other day, where a beautiful head 
 seemed peeping at us through a cloud." 
 
 Inspired by this idea, the skOful lady set to work, and while 
 Patty and the page were taking their daily exercise round and 
 round the pavement of Berkeley Square, she contrived to fabri- 
 cate a dress, the capes, sleeves, flounces, and furbelows of wHch 
 Beemed to wander, and fall, and undulate, and rise again, tillj 
 according to her ingenious intention, it would have been diffi- 
 cult for the most accurate eye to detect the points where the 
 lady ended, and her dress began. 
 
 It was thus that she received Lord Mucklebury ; and had 
 
COURTLY COMPLIMENTS. 299 
 
 she not been already fully satisfied with the result of her own 
 labours, and convinced that, however enormously large she 
 might be, it was not at all likely that anybody would observe 
 it, the sight of his lordship would at once have removed from 
 her mind every feeling of alarm, lest he, at least, 'should remark 
 invidiously upon her increased bulk — for he had himself, like 
 Father Phihp, "prospered marvellously" since he had last 
 presented his portly person before the admiring eyes of our 
 heroine. It was, indeed, evident that he had taken leave of his 
 own shoe-strings for ever, by reason of the intervening paunch, 
 while his jocund cheeks spread widely, and unrestrainedly, over 
 the cravat that formerly sustained them. But nevertheless, 
 Mrs. O'Donagough thought him almost as charming as ever ; 
 and when, with both arms put forward to their utmost length, 
 which just enabled the hands to reach beyond the "capon- 
 lined " rotundity of his goodly person, he seized cordially upon 
 each of hers, and, bending himself forward, contrived, notwith- 
 standing aU impediments, to salute her cheek, she was uncon- 
 scious of any alteration, but for the better. 
 
 Let it not, however, be supposed for an instant that Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's feelings were such as Mr. O'Donagough could 
 have disapproved ; nothing could be more cruelly unjust than 
 such a suspicion. It was the noble nature, as well as the noble 
 birth, of the amiable peer, which warmed her heart towards 
 him, and which made her feel, more strongly than ever, the 
 immense advantage of such talents and manners as her own, 
 which had enabled her to secure for years, as she subsequently 
 observed to her husband and daughter, the affectionate attach- 
 ment of a nobleman, whose early feehngs for her were of a kind 
 which rarely produced such an after-growth of admiration and 
 esteem. ^ 
 
 " I rejoice, my dear madam,'' said the peer, " to see you 
 looking so charmingly after your long absence — Pel corpo di 
 Bacco! — I hope you have not forgotten your ItaKan? — Pel 
 corpo di Bacco ! you have not lost anything since we parted last. 
 Nor have you gained too much, no, not an atom too much ! 
 Tou are charming, charming, ever! sempre bellissima!" 
 
 " This is, indeed, a most gratifying favour, my dear lord ! " 
 Replied the fascinated and fascinating lady ; " I cannot thank 
 you enough for it ! Oh ! my lord ! after an expatriation of so 
 many years, it is inexpressibly soothing to a heart like mine, to 
 find that those whom my judgment taught me most to value, 
 and my taste to admire, ere I left my native land, are ready to 
 receive me with a friendly greeting on my retvurn to it." 
 
 " The very same ! The very same as ever I " exclaimed Lord 
 Mucklebury, in great delight. " If I were to live a thousand 
 years, my dear Mrs. Barnaby, while I remembered anything, I 
 should remember you!" 
 
800 THE WIDOW MAREIBD. 
 
 "Oh. Lord Muokleburyl It would, indeed, be strange if 
 feeKngs suoli as yours were not reciprocal! But, my kind 
 friend, forgive me if I remind you that you must no longer call 
 me Barnaby. All ! my dear lord ! the heart of a woman is 
 destined from her birth to pant for an answering heart! To 
 feelings like mine, the chill solitude of widowed loneliness was 
 intolerable, and though it is denied to us to — to — ^forgive me ! I 
 know pot where my foohsh memory would lead me ! Suffice it 
 to say, my lord, that soon after my last hurried interview with 
 your lordship, wliich, as you will remember, I sought for the 
 purpose of giving you the little commission you so generously 
 executed afterwards — soon after that, I discovered, even before 
 I could understand how the thing could be, that I was adored 
 by a man endowed with a thousand fine qualities. After a 
 while — after a little struggle with myself to forget former feel- 
 ings, I yielded to his wishes, and my name is now O'Donagough." 
 ' " By sun and moon I swear," exclaimed Lord MucUebury, 
 drawing forth' a cambric handkerchief richly scented, and in- 
 dulging the lower part of his face by its near neighbourhood, 
 " by sun and moon I swear, that never, since I saw you last, 
 have I met any human being that could equal you, most 
 exquisite Mrs. O'Donagough! God forbid that your amiable 
 husband should be jealous, madam ! Ease my heart at once ; is 
 this likely to be the case? " 
 
 "Oh no, my lord!" replied Mrs. O'Donagough, with 
 expressive emphasis, and a smile that seemed to say, " He 
 knows my unconquerable virtue too well," " oh no ! my lord, 
 not the least jealous, and it will give me more satisfaction than 
 I can easily express, if your lordship will allow me to have the 
 honour of introducing him." 
 
 " Permit you ? Adorable Mrs. O'Donagough, it will be like 
 opening to me the gates of paradise. Upon the honour of a 
 peer," continued Lord Muoklebury, laying his hand as near his 
 heart as the circumjacent sohdities would permit, ." upon the 
 honour of a peer, I protest to you that an entree to your mansion 
 is at this moment what I most greatly covet, and I shall be only 
 too happy if Mr. O'Donagough will permit me to make his 
 acquaintance. Perhaps, too. Madonna delectissima! you will 
 suffer me, for the sake of our long friendship, to present my son 
 to you? I do pledge you my word that he deserves the honour, 
 for he in\erits enough of his father's spirit to enjoy it." 
 
 " My dearest lord ! your condescending kindness overpowers 
 me ! I, too, have a young creature, my only surviving child, a 
 girl, my lord, whom I should feel a mother's pride in showing to 
 you; she has been thought extremely like me — I know not if it be 
 so. On this point, my dear lord, you must judge for yourseK." 
 
 " And so I wiU, charming Mrs. O'Donagough. But if I 
 find it so, may the gods protect me ! 1 know not what -is to 
 
%Z^t,'2/i<^?2^ ziSiVS'^jft*^?^- 
 
 ■iy^ an^' 
 
MOTHER AND DAUGHTEE ALIKE CHARMING. 301 
 
 become of my heaxt. O'Donagough ! O'Donagough ! " repeated 
 the happy-looking nobleman, with an air of great enjoyment, 
 " may I die, madam, if I do not even admire yoiir name. I used 
 to think your former one the most euphonious in the world, 
 because it softened so sweetly into Barnabbia ; you know of old 
 my passion for the dolce lingua. But methinks O'Donagough 
 wSl undergo the same deUcious process as well. May I not now 
 call you la mia magnifica O'Donnaccia ?" 
 
 His lordship paused for a moment, half frightened at his 
 own audacity, as he remembered that it was just possible his 
 charming old friend might know enough of the language of 
 which she used to proclaim " her idolatry," to comprehend the 
 "deUcious process" rather too well; but the charming smUe 
 with which she listened to him, soon remored his doubts, and he 
 remained convinced that, by whatever name he might choose to 
 call her, she was, and ever must be, the most invaluable addition 
 to his acquaintance that he could ever hope to make. 
 
 Their tete-a-tete, however, was soon brought to a conclusion 
 by the rather boisterous entrance of Patty on her return from 
 her visit to the Miss Perkinses. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Mrg. O'Donagough, "here is my child! 
 my only surviving child, my dear lord ! permit me to present 
 her to your lordship." And so saying, she rose up in all her 
 greatness, moral and physical, or, in plainer English, in all the 
 flutter of expansive drapery and excited spirits, and throwing 
 one of her arms round the person of her daughter, brought her 
 close before the eyes of the admiring peer. Lord Mucklebury 
 did not rise, for which his corpulency must be pleaded as an 
 excuse, but he received the radiant young lady with a smile, 
 and, after looking at her for a moment, drew her towards him 
 by the hand that had been placed in his, and kissed her. 
 
 The words Lord and Lordship had sufficed to enlighten Patty 
 as to the identity of the great personage who thus honoured her. 
 She knew it must be her mamma's often-quoted dear friend. Lord 
 Mucklebury ; and therefore, though under other circumstances 
 it is possible that she might not have felt particularly grateful 
 for the salute, she now took it in very good part, and even 
 grinned a little as she withdrew herself with a courtesy from before 
 the condescending nobleman. 
 
 f An extremely fine young lady, indeed ! " said his lordship, 
 " and a most charming likeness of her mamma!" 
 
 " You find her Uke me, my lord ? " said Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 in an accent of great tenderness. "Ah! my dear lord! no 
 mother can ever hear that without pleasure ! " 
 
 "Upon my honour, madam," rephed his lordship, again 
 spreading his hand upon his breast, " it is impossible in this 
 instance to say whether mother or daughter ought to feel the 
 most flattered by hearing of the resemblance. This young lady, 
 
S02 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 all blooming as she is, may feel perfectly assiired that her mother 
 bloomed as brilliantly before her, and that charming mother 
 herself, while looking on the prodigiously fine young creature 
 to whom she has given bifth, may smile with two-fold rapture, 
 conscious that she is gazing at once upon herself and child." 
 
 This fine speech rather astonished Patty, and she opened her 
 great eyes, and gave her mother a look that seemed to say so. 
 But Mrs. O'Donagough, with her usual happy presence of 
 mind, converted this somewhat impertinent stare into a comph- 
 ment, by saying — 
 
 "Ah, my Patty ! How well I understand that look ! you are 
 quite right, dearest ! My darling girl is peculiarly aUve to the 
 charm of graceful manners, my dear lord; and, sweet creature I 
 she is too young to disguise what she feels." 
 
 " Sweet creature ! sweet creatures both !" cried Lord Muckle- 
 bury, with great enthusiasm. "Well dearest?" said Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, playfully untying her daughter's bonnet, and 
 arranging the multitudinous ringlets of her black hair, — " And 
 how did you leave our friends?" 
 
 " Oh lor ! — There's a fine kettle of fish there, mamma," 
 replied the young lady. " Matilda is in such a way !" 
 
 " Well, well, love ; we'U hear all that by-and-by. It is such 
 an affectionate young heart, my lord ! Where she attaches 
 herself, the slightest circumstances appear to her of consequence." 
 
 " I hope, my dear madam," replied his lordship, " that she 
 will speedily both feel and inspire precisely the attachment 
 which may be most agreeable to you, and herself too." 
 
 Patty replied to this with a toss which seemed to say that 
 all that had happened already ; but her mother shook her head, 
 and waved her hand, as if she deprecated the awful thought. 
 
 "Alas!" she exclaimed, "she is a child, my lord!" Then 
 abruptly turning to the young lady, she said, " Go, my love, go 
 and find your father ; he is in the library, I believe. Tell him 
 that the valued Mend he has so often heard me mention — ^tell 
 him — ^that Lord Mucklebury is here !" 
 
 Patty left the room, and Mrs. O'Donagough lowering her 
 voice, which lisped a little, as was usual with her, when in full 
 glory, said,— 
 
 " My dear lord, your suggestion, which goes to my very 
 heart from the interest it evinces in the welfare of my child, 
 your suggestion, my dear lord, induces me to communicate to 
 your friendly ear a circumstance which must, for the present, be 
 secret from the world. My sweet girl has already, child as she 
 is, inspired and conceived the attachment of which your lordship 
 speaks, and the connection is so desirable, that we do not think 
 we should be -justifiable in interfering to prevent it, merely on 
 account of her youth. My darling Patty is engaged to Sir 
 Henry Seymour." 
 
FIDDLE-DE-DEB. 803 
 
 " Engaged to Sir Henry Seymour ?" repeated Lord Muekle- 
 bury, interrogatively, and with a look of considerable surprise; 
 " Do you mean Sir Henry Seymour, of Hartley Hall ?" 
 
 " Yes !" replied the undaunted Mrs. O'Donagough, " that is 
 the name of one of his places ; he is a ward of a near connection 
 of mine. Sir Edward Stephenson." 
 
 " Certainly, Sir Henry Seymour is, or rather was, his ward: 
 but I did not know, my dear Mrs. Barnaby — I beg your pardon, 
 your present name often escapes me — I did not know that you 
 wererelated to Sir Edward Stephenson." 
 
 " Not exactly related^ my lord, but nearly connected ; Lady 
 Stephenson's brother, General Hubert, is my nephew by 
 marriage." 
 
 " General Hubert your nephew, my dear madam ! " exclaimed 
 the peer with inexpressible astonishment, " upon my honour I 
 had no idea of it." 
 
 " It ia even so, my lord," rephed the lady, a Uttle piqued, 
 perhaps, at the surprise so freely shown, but greatly pleased at 
 the sort of coup de theatre efl'eet of the discovery. 
 
 While this interesting communication was making in the 
 drawing-room, Patty had made her way into the hbrary, where 
 she found her father and Foxcroft in very close consultation. 
 
 " So you are here, are you?" said Patty, addressing the ex- 
 lieutenant, and accompanying the question with a very scornful 
 grimace, that did honour to the courageous firmness of her 
 friendship for the unhappy Matilda. " You'll find these quarters 
 too hot for you, Mr. Captain, if I don't much mistake," she 
 added ; " for you may depend upon it I am not going to give up 
 having my own particular friend, Matilda Perkms, here — and 1 
 should be happy to know what you would think of meeting her ?" 
 
 " I do assure you, my dear young lady, I should not feel the 
 least objection in the world to meeting your amiable friend, and 
 she must have altogether mistaken my motives, if she attributes 
 anything to me which ought fo occasion any coolness between 
 us. Unhappily my income is insufficient to permit my marry- 
 ing a lady without fortune, however charming she may be ; but 
 however much this may be a matter of regret on my side, it 
 surely ought not to be a matter of resentment on hers." 
 
 " Fiddle-de-dee !" replied Patty, turning her back upon him, 
 and addressing her father. " I say, pap," said she, " there is my 
 Lord Muckle something or other up stairs. It is mamma's great 
 friend, you know, that she is so often crowing about, and you 
 must come up this very minute, whether you like it or not." 
 
 " Is that the message that your mother sent to me, Patty? " 
 demanded Mr. O'Donagough. 
 
 " My eye, no, papa 1 Mamma's as soft and as sweet as the 
 flowers in May, now that' she has got this Lord Muckle with 
 her, so come along." 
 
304 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 " And ao I mil, Patty ; but you must shake hands "with 
 Foxcroft first." 
 
 " I had rather shake hands with a toad, than with a false- 
 hearted lover," said Patty. 
 
 " Don't stand there, talking stuff to me," replied her father, 
 with the aspect that always won belief as to his being in earnest. 
 So Patty shook hands with Mr. Foxcroft, who then took his 
 departure, but she relieved her feelings by performing sundry 
 grimaces to her father's back as she followed him up the stairs. 
 
 Nothing could be better than the style in which Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough permitted himself to be presented to the gay old noble- 
 man, and the few minutes of conversation wliich followed 
 between them, left exactly the impression on his lordship's mind 
 he intended ; namely, that Mr. O'Donagough was certainly a 
 very decent sort of person, though he had such a queer wife. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 We must not linger to watch every circumstance by which Mr. 
 O'Donagough was led, or rather, by which he led himself, into 
 precisely the position which he desired to fill in the motley 
 mosaic of London society. He kept his Parisian model well in 
 view, and well, too, did he manage all the turnings and windings, 
 the sketchings and shadings, necessary to the production of a 
 perfect copy. During the two years that General Hubert's 
 family remained abroad, he and his lady between them had con- 
 trived to make a circle of acquaintance the most heterogeneous, 
 perhaps, that ever met together in a London drawing-room, 
 which, on the score of variety, is saying a good deal for it. 
 
 More, perhaps, for the purpose of maintaining his influence 
 over Sir Henry Seymour, by showing how easy it was for him 
 to betray the foolish secret which the young man so pertinaciously 
 desired to keep, than for any particular wish for their society, 
 Mr. O'Donagough had taken especial pains to make the ac- 
 quaintance of Sir Edward and Lady Stephenson ; an ambitious 
 project in which he was greatly assisted by the gentle Lady 
 Stephenson's wish not to appear proud or repulsive to the near 
 relations of her dear sister Agnes. The gay and wealthy 
 Frederic too, and not a few more of an equally elevated station 
 in society, were frequently not displeased at finding card-tables 
 and high stakes in a private drawing-room, though he, and they 
 too, might have felt considerable repugnance to 'having their 
 names quoted as frequenters of gaming clubs. 
 
 Lord Mucklebury, and his free-and-easy son also, not un- 
 frequently amused themselves in the receiving rooms of Curzon- 
 tsreet, wliile Sir Henry Seymour, seeing the statements of 
 O'Donagough respecting his family connection with the Huberts 
 and Stephensons so fully proved, feU completely into the snare 
 
PROSPEROUS POLICY. 805 
 
 that was laid for him, and little as he Uked his society, became 
 the frequent guest of the man whose feehngs of friendly good 
 will were so extremely important to him. Happy, indeed, did he 
 often think himself at being able, at the risk of losing his money, 
 perhaps, but with the certainty of enjoying an excellent rubber, to 
 escape from the affectionate friendship of Mrs. O'Donagough, and 
 the stiU more oppressive coquetries of her daughter. A multitude 
 of others, whose names are of no importance to the narrative, 
 were also gradually added to the O'Donagough hst of acquaint- 
 ance, tni, by degrees, their soirees became actually crowded, 
 while the qmet master of the mansion kept his station with 
 great constancy in the small third room, with his faithful Fox- 
 crofb ever hovering near him, but his partie de jeu varying as 
 occasion required. The great game he was playing at this time, 
 without referring to any particular stakes, whether at whist or 
 piquet, was too important to permit any considerations of 
 minor economy to interfere with it. His rooms were splendidly 
 lighted; strong coffee, excellent liqueurs, and abundant ices, 
 were freely distributed ; and though Mrs. O'Donagough, in the 
 ecstasy of finding herself so immensely important a personage, 
 did sometimes exceed both in dress and demeanour the ordinary 
 bounds of sober elegance, yet, on the whole, she was by no 
 means an inefficient partner in the concern. She was inde- 
 fatigable in her efforts to increase her circle of acquaintance, 
 ajid what with her handsome house, showy carriage, magnifi- 
 cent dress, and universally recognised auntship to Mrs. General 
 Hubert, these efforts were more successful than those who knew 
 Mrs. O'Donagough best would have deemed possible. Her 
 watchful husband, therefore, was, on the whole, exceedingly 
 well contented, and stiU continued to think that "his Barnaby" 
 was as well qualified to fill the splendid station in which her 
 good fortune had placed her, as any lady he knew. Not that he 
 was bhnd to the species of gratification enjoyed in her society by 
 Lord Mucklebury, his son, and some others of the same stamp ; 
 but as he perceived that many of 
 
 Those who came to laugh, remained xoplay, 
 
 he understood what he was about too well to quarrel with any 
 of them. 
 
 In this manner, and with a degree of success which soon 
 removed from his own mind every fear lest his bold project 
 should fail, ilr. O'Donagough went on with a steady, quiet, un- 
 ruffled exterior of respectability, which effectually concealed aU 
 that it was necessary for his interest should be hidden. 
 
 Few, or rather none, of those who were not professionally 
 interested in the fact, were aware how deep were the stakes 
 nightly played for in Mr. O'Donagough's drawing-room. For 
 if it happened that some rich, but luckless novice became a vic- 
 
 T 
 
306 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 tim, the lamented adventure was always made to appear as 
 something piirely accidental, as to its extent, and merely the 
 consequence of the temporary excitement of the parties, which 
 " really was very foolish, and must not happen again." 
 
 Such was the prosperous state of the O'Donagough affairs, 
 when the interval destined to Montagu Hubert's itinerant studies 
 between school and college being over, the general and his 
 family returned to England. 
 
 Sharp was the sparkle of Mrs. O'Donagough's still unextin- 
 guished eye, when, as she sipped her coffee and luxuriantly en- 
 joyed the columns of the Morning Post, she came upon the 
 following paragraph : — " Arrived at their mansion in Berkeley- 
 square, Lieutenant-General Hubert, his lady, and suite." 
 
 " That's delightful ! " she exclaimed ; " I declare to heaven 
 that I shall have almost everything I want and wish in the 
 world, if I do but get Agnes and the general here only just to 
 witness one of our best nights ! and that crooked-back, little 
 aunt Betsy too ! It is not very likely that she should see it, but 
 she'U hear of it, Donny, won't she? Don't you enjoy the idea 
 of it?" 
 
 " To tell you the truth, my dear, I do not care one single 
 straw about it," replied Mr. O'Donagough. " A year or two 
 ago, indeed, when our circumstances were different, that is, I 
 mean, before we were quite settled, I certainly thought that it 
 was important, for Patty's sake particularly, that we should be 
 on good terms with these liuberts, — ^but now, it surely can 
 make no difference whatever — and her presentation at St. 
 James's, you know, is all settled abeady." 
 
 " You may cry down my relations as much as you please," 
 veplied his highly-incensed lady, "but you are monstrously 
 mistaken, and that I can tell you, sir, if you fancy that the 
 name of Hubert is of no importance to us ; often and often, 
 when I have said not a word about it, I have seen its effect — I 
 know not how it may be in your back drawing-room set, Mr. 
 Allen O'Donagough, but this I do know, that half, if not all the 
 very best people m my front one, have been got at by means of 
 their knovnng that Agnes was my niece. And as to going to 
 court, you may depend upon it that I shall not go, notwith- 
 standing all Lady Susan Deerwell's kindness, without taking 
 care to know that Mrs. General Hubert will be at the same 
 drawing-room. Of course Ehzabeth will be presented this year, 
 and it wiU. be extremely advantageous that the cousins should 
 be presented at the same time ; it will read so well in the papers! 
 — and it is so easy to get it in, you know." 
 
 " You are a clever creature, my Barnaby, and I am not 
 going to deny it," said her husband, with a complacent smile. 
 " I only meant to observe that we had gone on very well during 
 the last two years." 
 
PATTT FAR FKOM SATISFIED WITH JACK. 307 
 
 " "Well ? thank God we have ! I am sure I am ready enough 
 to acknowledge that ; but still, if "you please, Donny, we will 
 not cut the Huberts." 
 
 " By no means, my dear, — I have no such intention ; quite 
 the contrary ; indeed, I would rather you should leave cards 
 there than not ; it will be more civU." 
 
 This condescending assurance was quite sincere. Mr. Alleu 
 O'Donagough really had no objection to his lady's visiting 
 General Hvibert's family ; nevertheless, it was equally true that 
 he did not care one single straw about it. On first setting off 
 on the bold and ambitious course he was now pursuing, he had 
 seized with a masterly hand upon every object that could help 
 his progress, but now, feeling himself completely afloat, he rather 
 feared impedunent than hoped for assistance, from a too-near 
 contact with those around him ; and though not insensible to 
 the eligibility of Patty's having such cousins, and his lady sucll 
 a niece, he was not at all desirous of admitting General Hubert 
 to any very close degree of intimacy. 
 
 Such being the prosperous state of her papa, it can hardly 
 be doubted that the state of Jliss Patty was prosperous too ; and 
 to a certain degree it certainly was so. She was dressed as 
 smartly as she could possibly desire ; had carte blanche as to the 
 invitations she might wish to give her friend MatOda ; drove in 
 an open barouche with her mamma in the Park every Sunday, 
 and in all fashionable streets during every other day; and 
 finally, was permitted to flirt as much as she liked, with any- 
 body, and everybody. AU this was very dehghtful, yet Patty 
 was not quite contented, nevertheless. By degrees she brought 
 herself to acknowledge that Jack was neither more nor less than 
 a good-for-nothing, false-hearted fellow, who had never intended 
 really and truly to marry her, and who in his heart cared more 
 for playing whist, than for anything else in the world. All this 
 she acknowledged to Matilda, though to both mother and father 
 she still persisted that she had been engaged to him, quite entirely 
 engaged to him, but that she did not much care whether it 
 came to anything or not. Of this statement her papa did not 
 believe a single word, though he never for a moment hinted his 
 incredulity either to herself or any one else. What Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's opinion on the subject might have been, it was 
 not so easy to say ; because on some occasions she did not 
 scruple to declare (as in the case of Lord Mucklebury), that she 
 beheved the engagement was stiU going on, though Patty was 
 such a coquettish young thing that she should not be at all sur- 
 prised if she turned round and changed her mind any day. 
 While to others, particularly to all young men of rank or fortune, 
 she stated confidentially that such an engagement had existed, 
 but it was clear to her that her dear girl began to doubt her own 
 feelings on the subject, in which case nothing on earth would ever 
 
 T 2 
 
308 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 induce her, or her beloved Mr. O'D., to utter a word that might 
 influence tier ; for, excellent as the connection was, they were 
 quite determined, on this and every other occasion, to let their 
 only darhng consult her own pure heart, and nothing else ! 
 
 In the midst of all this contradictory variety, Patty, while 
 endeavouring to look mysterious to both fether and mother, and 
 saying little on the subject to either, took to hating Jack in her 
 very heart of hearts, most thoroughly and sincerely, and she 
 would have gone very considerable lengths, as she confessed to 
 her ' friend, to plague him as he deserved. A feeling in no 
 degree less hostile had also, very naturally, supplied, in ^he 
 • breast of the tender Matilda, the place of all other sentiments 
 towards Mr. Foxcroft ; and it is probable that nothing but their 
 wholesome fear of Mr. O'Donagough kept either fair one within 
 the bounds of moderate rudeness, whenever their faitliless 
 swains approached them. Nevertheless Patty had her fliriStion^, 
 and Miss Matilda did her very best to have hers too, so that " 
 there was not wanting between them a constant fund of confi- 
 dential secrets wliioh nourished and sustained their friendship in 
 all its pristine warmth and purity. 
 
 Having ascertained the aft'rontihg indifference of her husband 
 respecting General and Mrs. Hubert, Mrs. O'Donagough called 
 him not again to her councils respecting them, but quietly 
 settled in her own mind how to indulge herself, by fully dis- 
 playing to them, and to all their daughters and sons, the spec- 
 tacle of her greatness. 
 
 Amongst other simulations of fashionable manners adopted 
 by the prosperous adventurer and his family, was their igno-- 
 ranee and independence of each other's occupations and engage- 
 ments before dinner. Mrs. O'Donagough was blessed by having 
 at her command one of the most showy carriages in London. 
 Arms, embellished by a prodigious number of splendid quarter- 
 ings, adorned the pane&, the hammer-cloth hung stiff with 
 embroidery of the same, blinds of crimson silk aided the glowing 
 complexions within, and tags, tassels, and silver lace decorated 
 those without. Let those who best know Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 judge what her feelings were in driving to the door of Mrs. 
 Hubert in such an equipage as this. 
 
 With care and skill she chose that hour for her visit at 
 which ladies are most certainly visible at home ; namely, the 
 interval between the two o'clock luncheon, and the three o'clock 
 sortie for shopping. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough wjttched with some emotion the col- 
 loquy between the servants at the door, but all her doubts 
 and fears were speedily put to the rout by the throwing wide 
 the door of her carriage, and the presentation of the arm that 
 was to assist in her descent from it. 
 
 " You will sit in the carriage, and wait for us, my dears," 
 
A MOHNING VISIT. 809 
 
 said the swelling lady, with condescending dignity, to the two 
 iliss Perkinses, who occupied the back of the carriage. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, ma'am ! we shall be quite amused, I'm sure," 
 returned Miss Matilda. 
 
 " Pray do not think of us ! " meekly ejaculated her sister. 
 
 " No, no, no, — of course not, my dear ; you will do very 
 weU I dare say; take care about drawing up and down the 
 windows. ^Vhat do you poke that beautifuUy-laced pocket- 
 handkerchief into your bag for, Patty ? I did not buy it for 
 that, I promise you." 
 
 " And that's true, and no lie," said Patty, winking at her 
 friend, as she prepared in her usual style to precipitate herself 
 out of the carriage after her mamma, but at the same time obey- 
 ing the maternal behest, and drawing forth the handkerchief 
 with a flourish that sent it into the eyes of the simpering Louisa. 
 
 There were several persons in Mrs. Hubert's drawing-room 
 when Mrs. and Miss O'Donagough were ushered into it. At a 
 small table apart, near a window, sat two very lovely girls, each 
 occupied before a little desk, one copying a page of MS. music, 
 and the other drawing. Behind the chair of the latter stood 
 a tall and graceful young man, whose head was bent forward as 
 in the act of criticising the performance. He started as the 
 servant distinctly pronounced the words " Mrs. and Miss 
 O'Donagough," but did not immediately look up. 
 
 On a sofa near a loo-table at the upper end of the room sat 
 Mrs. Hubert, and beside her an elegant-looking little woman, 
 apparently some few years older than herself, but whose black 
 eyes, neatly-cut little features, and fine teeth, stiH gave her a 
 right to be called a pretty woman. In a deep chair on the 
 opposite side of. the table, another lady, about the same age, 
 perhaps, but infinitely less well-looking, employed herself by 
 incessantly twitching a green ribbon, which being attached to 
 the collar of a poodle lap-dog, occasioned from time to time a 
 sharp little bark that seemed to delight her. Mrs. O'Donagough 
 had observed a carriage waiting at the door,- and the dress of 
 these last-mentioned ladies showed that it was for them it waited, 
 and that they, too, were morning visitors. 
 
 K satin, feathers, and a profusion of the finest lace, could 
 have made Mrs. O'Donagough look elegant, she would have 
 looked elegant then, for she was dressed like a duchess ; nor was 
 her daughter Patty much less splendid ; and even had their 
 names been unknown to all the party, their appearance was 
 altogether such as imperiously to have commanded attention. 
 But their names were not unknown to any individual there. 
 
 It is possible that Mrs. Hubert was not particularly delighted 
 by this early visit from her remarkable aunt, but most certainly 
 she felt considerable consolation from perceiving that hermanners, 
 though affectionately familiar, were less vehemently caressing 
 
310 TUE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 than formerly. In fact, Mrs. O'Donagougli felt, and tl tanked 
 God for the same, that there was no longer any occasion for it ; 
 besides, it was impossible to press anybody to her heart now, 
 without risking the injury of her exquisite toilet, so she only 
 stretched out one arm as she advanced, saying with a good deal 
 of her most elegant hsp, " How do, Agnes, dear ? What an 
 age, isn't it ? You would hardly know Patty, would you ? 
 How are the children ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hubert stepped forward, and received the large offered 
 hand very gracefully, giving a smihng answer to each question. 
 Patty followed after, and notwithstanding her anti-Hubert pre- 
 judices, stretched out her hand too, which was also received by 
 Mrs. Hubert with a smile, while she turned her head towards 
 the two young ladies at the window, saying, " Here is your 
 cousin Martha, my dear Elizabeth." Thus called upon, a tall, 
 slight, lovely girl rose from the place she occupied, laid her 
 pencil on her desk, and came forward. ^ 
 
 " My goodness ! Are you Ehzabeth ? " exclaimed Patty, 
 reaUy too much engaged by staring at her, to perceive her 
 offered hand. " Well, Pm sure I should never have known you 
 again — ^I wonder if Pm as much altered as you ? " 
 
 " I do not think you are at aU altered," repHed Elizabeth, 
 sitting down beside her. " But you are looking very well." 
 
 " Yes,^ I am always very well, and you know I have always 
 got a fresfi colour," replied Patty, who was frequently apt to 
 suspect, when people told her she looked well, that they might, 
 perhaps, be thinking she had helped herself to a little of her 
 mamma's rouge. " Hardly anybody has got as much colour as 
 I have ; I am sure I often wish I hadn't so much, people stare 
 80. But my goodness ! is that Emily ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! Emily still looks quite like a little girl ; that is 
 Miss Seymour." 
 
 As she said this, the tall young man stood upright, and step- 
 ping forward, extended a. hand to Mi-s. O'Donagough, while at 
 the same time he paid his compliments to her daughter, by in- 
 quiring very civiUy after her health. 
 
 " Soh ! you are here, are you. Sir Henry. How d'ye do? " 
 said Mrs. O'Donagough, thrusting a hand towards the young 
 man over her shoulder, and throwing her plumed head on one 
 side, with a sort of lolloping affectation that was intended to in- 
 dicate great intimacy. 
 
 " I hope Mr. O'Donagough is quite well, ma'am?" said the 
 young baronet, with a considerable augmentation of colour. 
 
 " Quite well, dear Seymour," replied the great lady ; " I hope 
 we shall see you to-night ? How late we kept it up, Tuesday, 
 didn't we ? But Lord Mucklebury is always so dehghtful ! " 
 
 While this was passing, the lady seated on the sofa by Mrs. 
 Hubert, looked and listened with great appearance of interest 
 
BAD EFFECT OF OLD-MAIDISM. 811 
 
 and amusement, but said nothing. At length Agnes, who had 
 been ■watching her with a laughing countenance, addressed Mrs. 
 O'Donagough : " You do not remember these ladies, aunt?" 
 and as she spoke, she pointed to both her bonneted visitors. 
 
 " Remember them ? No, really! have I ever met them be- 
 fore ? I Hve in such a round of company, that, upon my honour, 
 it is perfectly impossible to remember one face from another. 
 You must excuse me, ladies, if I have the honour of your ac- 
 quaintance, but I have not the slightest recoUeotion of you." 
 
 " My name is Henderson," said the lady on the sofa, — " but 
 formerly it was Mary Peters." 
 
 " Mary Peters ! " ejaculated the energetic Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, almost with a shriek, " Mary Peters ! my own dear first 
 husband's own niece! Gracious heaven! Well, to be sure, 
 this is a most extraordinary discovery I And this? " turning to 
 the plain-looking, middle-aged mistress of the lap-dog, "this 
 must be, yes, to be sm-e, this must be Elizabeth ? " 
 
 " Very true, indeed, I certainly am Ehzabeth," replied the 
 lady she addressed ; " but I am sure I do not wonder at yoiir 
 not knowing me at first, for I had not the least notion who you 
 was. I never saw anybody grow so large in my hfe." 
 
 " You are so dreadfully thin yourself, my dear, that I have 
 no doubt I do look rather large to you ; " then turning her back 
 in rather a marked manner to her former ally, she addressed an 
 almost interminable string of questions to her sister. 
 
 "And so you are married, Mary, are you? Well! that's 
 well. I can't say I ain any great friend to old-maidism — it 
 spoils people's tempers. I have had three — God bless me ! — ^I 
 mean I have had two husbands, both first-rate, quite first-rate 
 men in their way, and I can't say I think I should have had the 
 fine temper that I beheve everybody allows I have got, if I had 
 remained single all my hfe. However, perhaps it is not quite 
 civil to say so just now. Are neither of your sisters married, my 
 dear Mary ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ! Lucy has been married many years, and has a 
 very large family ! " 
 
 " Poor thing ! " said Mrs. O'Donagough with a deep sigh ; 
 " then I do pity her ! There certainly is nothing so pitiable as 
 having a large family I " 
 
 " Is it worse than being an old maid? " said Miss Ehza- 
 beth Peters, 'with a sneer. 
 
 " No, my dear I " replied Mrs. O'Donagough, turning 
 sharply round upon her ; " nothing, of course, can be so bad as 
 that. And how is your mother, Mary ? and your father ? and 
 James, I dare say he is married, isn't he ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, he is married also." 
 
 " And what sort of style are you all living in ? comfortable, 
 I hope ? We must not mind your being a little humdrum, if 
 
312 
 
 THE WIDOW MAREIF.D. 
 
 you are comfortable ; but let that be as it may, you must come 
 and see me ; I thinlii; my drawing-rooms will please you. But, 
 dear me ! how everything depends upon comparison ! I re- 
 member as well as if it was but yesterday, thinking your draw- 
 ing-rooms in Rodney-place quite beautiful, but when you come 
 to see mine, my dear, you won't expect me to think so any 
 longer. In fact, my dear Mr. O'Donagough has so very superior 
 a taste that I must not talk of comparing what he orders to any- 
 thing else ; I really want you to see my new carriage, Agnes — 
 it will strike you, as something quite out of the common way." 
 
 Mrs. Hubert -smiled, and bowed, and looked at Sir Henry 
 Seymour, and then at her lovely daughter, as if to consult them 
 both as to what her aunt was talking about, being herself quite 
 at a loss to decide whether she were in jest or earnest. But she 
 did not venture to speak, for fear of making some blunder, and 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, increasing every moment in the delightful 
 consciousness of causing unbounded astonishment, began again. 
 
 " And pray, Agnes dear, who is that ? " she said, nodding 
 her plumes in the direction of Miss Seymour ; " it is not one 
 of Frederic Stephenson's girls, is it ? " 
 
 " That young lady is Miss Seymour," rephed Mrs. Hubert, 
 gravely. 
 
 " A sister of yours, my dear Sir Henry, eh ? Pray introduce 
 her, — I shall be quite dehghted." 
 
 Caroline Seymour, who was several years younger than her 
 brother, and one of the most timid creatures that ever existed, 
 started up the moment these words were spoken, and before her 
 brother could perform the ceremony demanded of him, was 
 already, though trembling and covered with blushes, close to 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, and extending her hand with an air that 
 gave her the appearance of being eagerly impatient to make the 
 acquaintance. 
 
 Mrs. Hubert looked at her with astonishment, while Ehza- 
 beth Hubert, not too well knowing what she herself intended, 
 rose also, and seizing the other hand of her young friend, en- 
 deavoured to draw her away, convinced that she was acting 
 under some delusion, and that she fancied Mrs. O'Donagough 
 had some claim upon her acquaintance which it was necessary 
 she should acknowledge. 
 
 Ehzabeth Hubert was partly right. Poor Caroline knew 
 that the terrible-looking woman before whom she stood and 
 trembled, had a claim upon her acquaintance, which, let her 
 hate it ever so much, she would have acknowledged in church or 
 market, in court or city, in pubHc or in private. Clinging to 
 her brother as her protector and only relative, loving him be- 
 yond all things, and knowing herself, all childish as she was, to 
 be his only confidante and adviser in the unfortunate secret, to 
 the preservation of which he attached so much importance, she 
 
MKS. O'dONAGOUGH'S CONDESCENSION. 313 
 
 ■would have knelt at the feet of Mrs. O'Do'nagough, rather than 
 oflfend her, knowing too well that this secret was in her keeping. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donagough herself looked rather astonished, and 
 though in her present mood she would hardly have felt a saluta- 
 tion from royalty itself more than she had a right to expect, she 
 nevertheless bad some consciousness that this pecuhar eagerness 
 to make her acquaintance must have a peculiar cause, which, 
 however, she was at no loss to find, for, after a moment's con- 
 sideration, she became persuaded that her shy, but stiU enamoured 
 brother, must have enjoined it. 
 
 " A very nice, sweet-looking girl, indeed. Sir Henry," said 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, continuing to hold Carohne's hand, as in a 
 vice, and looking up in her face with a leer of playful protec- 
 tion ; " you may bring her to us whenever you will. Sir Henry. 
 Patty, who, as you well know, is the sweetest-tempered crea- 
 ture in the world, will be quite dehghted to take notice of her, 
 and she will soon teach her not to be so terribly shy ; upon my 
 honour, the dear girl trembles hke an aspen leaf. You must 
 not be afraid of us, my dear — your brother. Sir Henry, you 
 know, is a very old friend of ours, he and Patty, you know, are 
 great cronies. There, come, don't quiver and quake so, as if 
 you were talking to some proud stflf old empress ; ask your 
 brother if we ever stand upon ceremony with him ? No, no, all 
 that is nonsense, my dear ; let my style and station be what 
 they may, I shall never hold myself above taking notice of warm- 
 heaJted, affectionate young people, who are fond of us ; and that 
 I am quite sure you will be, as well as your brother Henry. 
 Patty ! make room for this dear girl on that great three-cornered 
 chair that you have put yourself into — nothing like close quar- 
 ters for making intimate acquaintance." 
 
 Thus commanded, Patty did collect her flowing gros de 
 Naples a httle, and Miss Seymour placed her shrinking, delicate 
 figure beside that of the bouncing beauty. But Patty, suddenly 
 catching the expression of Sir Henry's countenance, which ceri- 
 tainly spoke anything but pleasure at the position of his sister, 
 remembered all her injuries at once, and very decidedly shoulder- 
 ing the new friend her mother had bestowed on her, exclaimed, 
 
 " Lor ! mamma ! I wonder you didn't tell her to sit in my 
 lap." 
 
 "Carohne!" said Sir Henry, in a voice neither clear nor 
 sweet, " I beg that you will not inconvenience Miss O'Dona- 
 gough ; place yourself here, if you please ; " and he pushed a 
 cha,ir towards her as he spoke. 
 
 The timid girl immediately took possession of it, and con- 
 sidering that, notwithstanding her mimosa-Uke shyness, she had 
 been always accounted peculiarly graceful in her demeanour, 
 she certainly looked more awkward and abashed than was at all 
 intelligible. Mrs. O'Donagough laughed. 
 
314 THE WIPOW MARRIED. 
 
 " Sir Henry is right, Patty, isn't he ? " said she, " he wouldn't 
 mind it himself, perhaps, but I suppose he thinks young ladies' 
 dresses mayn't agree, whatever they do themselves — it 'did look 
 a little hke what we call riding Jolliphant in my country, two 
 ladies upon one horse, you know — -and the men never approve 
 of that. But, come Patty ! upon my honour and hfe we mustn't 
 be staying any longer. What wiU Lady Susan say if we don't 
 keep our appointment with her ? Good bjre, Agnes — good bye, 
 Elizabeth — be sure you come to see me, Mary. What's your 
 name? Henderson? Well! I shall be very glad to see you : of 
 course, when a woman marries again, the relations of her first 
 husband can't be quite so near and dear to her as a child by the 
 second. But, notwithstanding that, I'U promise to make you 
 welcome, and my old friend Elizabeth here, too, though she does 
 look a httle as if she could not forgive my saying she was thin, 
 and quizzing her about being an old maid. Forget and forgive, 
 Elizabeth ! you and I used to be monstrous thick, you know ; 
 and so we wiH again, if you'll come and tell me lots of Chfton 
 gossip, as you used to do. Good bye, you dear little Seymour, 
 you ! she is the very picture of her brother, and he is such a pet 
 with us all ! Good bye. Sir Henry ! don't come down. There 
 is nobody puts me into my carriage, like my own footman." 
 
 With these words, and a sort of circular nod, she swam out 
 of the room ; and Patty, with another nod, rather less circular, 
 and infinitely less gTaoious, bounced after her ; though not, it 
 may be observed, without Mrs. Hubert's allowing to herself, that 
 though as vulgar as ever, the young lady had decidedly grown 
 extremely handsome. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Foe a full minute and a half after the departure of Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough and her daughter, silence the most perfect reigned in the 
 drawing-room of Mrs. Hubert. The palsy of astonishment had 
 fallen upon them all, with the exception of poor Sir Henry, and 
 their powers of articulation seemed destroyed by it. Mrs. Hen- 
 derson was the first who recovered herself sufiSciently to speak. 
 
 " Why did you not tell me, Agnes, into what fuU-blown 
 dignity your aunt was expanded ? FuU well do I remember the 
 sort of terror and trembling with which my mother used to con- 
 template her feathers and flounces at Chfton. But though the 
 feathers and flounces remain much the same, the change in their 
 august wearer is prodigious I I do not mean solely from her 
 having spread out into such startling immensity, — you had in 
 some degree prepared me for that. But why did you conceal 
 the increase of wealth and dignity which seems to have fallen 
 upon her? my weak mind is perfectly overpowered." 
 
INQUIRY INTO THE SOURCE OF THE WEALTH. 315 
 
 " Xot more than mine, dear Mary ! " replied Mrs. Hubert, 
 laughing; " I do not comprehend it the least in the world. She 
 ' surprised lis, as I told you, by suddenly descending upon us at 
 Brighton, when we all fancied she was safely lodged for life in 
 Australia. But though very showily dressed, and perpetually 
 assuring us that her husband was a man of family and fortune, 
 and a most perfect gentleman, we never had any reason to be- 
 lieve that these statements were more strictly correct respecting 
 Mr. O'Donagough's position in life, than respecting himself ; he 
 is. by no means an Ul-behaved person, looking more like a 
 methodist parson than anything else, but no more hke a gentle- 
 man than Ehzabeth's poodle ; and as to their manner of living, 
 it was very nearly what you may remember my aunt's to have 
 been at Clifton. The carriage and horses, and the footmen, 
 are all quite new." 
 
 " Have you known them long, Sir Henry Seymour ? " said 
 Mrs. Henderson, turning to the young baronet. 
 
 " Yes, — no, no, not very long, certainly," he rephed, while 
 his whole face became crimson. 
 
 " At any rate, you seem to be treated as a most intimate 
 friend," observed Mrs. Hubert, looking at him with astonish- 
 ment, " and perhaps you may be able to tell, better than any 
 of us, though we are all such near relations, how long Mrs. 
 O'Donagough has hved in a fine house in Cxirzon-street, and 
 possessed a carriage and footman to talk about." 
 
 " She certainly meets me with much famiUarity," replied 
 the young man, dropping his eyes, but at the same time per- 
 mitting his countenance to express no inconsiderable degree of 
 hauteur, " yet, beheve me, I have no right to boast of knowing 
 much about her. I have 'never known her in London but in 
 this same house in Curzon -street, and as far as I know, she has 
 always had a carriage." 
 
 " Well, then ! all we can say, dear Mary, is that our aunt 
 is a richer lady than we imagined," said Mrs. Hubert. 
 
 " Oh ! she always told us she was very rich, you know," said 
 Miss Peters, " and I remember the time when she told my poor 
 father that she intended to leave all her money to us, because it 
 came from our uncle Barnaby." 
 
 " Nay, Elizabeth, it cannot be Barnaby money that sup- 
 ports this gay London establishment. I remember your good 
 uncle's manner of living perfectly. My good uncle, let me call 
 liim too, for it is impossible that anything could be more kind 
 and hberal than he was to me. But his fortime could never, I 
 am very sure, support the style of living that we have been 
 ■ hearing of to-day." 
 
 " Is it possible, then, that the man she brought to our house, 
 just before you married, Agnes, and with whom she immediately 
 sailed for Australia, could have been really a man of family and 
 
316 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 fortune, as she says? I remember the man perfectly. He was 
 a great many years younger than herself, and it is hardly "con- 
 ceivable that he should have married such a woman, excepting 
 for the sake of her fortune." 
 
 •" And he was a very handsome man, too. I remember him 
 perfectly, as well, as you, Mary," observed Elizabeth Peters, 
 " and I always supposed that he must have married aunt 
 Barnaby, because he had no fortune of his own." 
 
 "Mr. O'Donagough has lost his beauty since that time, 
 Ehzabeth, as I think you will allow, when you see him ; and,. I 
 confess, I do not perceive any remains of it. I have not, indeed, 
 the shghtest recollection as to what he was like, when he made 
 his visit in Rodney-place ; but at present he is anything but 
 well-looking," said Mrs. Hubert. 
 
 " I suppose a call upon my uncle Barnaby's widow is a duty 
 " imperative upon us ? " said Mrs. Henderson. " I think my 
 mother herself would say so, though she was not very parti- 
 cularly partial to the lady personally." 
 
 " I think you must go there, dear friend," returned Agnes, 
 " and in your case this offering to propriety is easily paid. You 
 do not Kve in London, and may therefore consider yourselves 
 safe from any great or lasting annoyance. This early visit to 
 us would, I confess, rather alarm me for our peace and quiet, 
 were it not that I perceive we are no longer of the same im- 
 portance to her as formerly. Her manner to me is entirely 
 changed. I, as well as you, Mary, escaped without even an 
 embrace, and I assure you that the time has been, since her 
 return from Australia, when she has held me so long in her 
 arms, that I almost felt doubtful if I should escape from them 
 alive. My dear father too ! Thank heaven ! she seems alto- 
 gether to have forgotten him ; he is in very delicate health, and 
 her vehement caresses, and unceasing attentions fatigued liim 
 dreadfully. Besides, dear man ! he always seemed to think that 
 it would be treating my mother's memory with disrespect, if he 
 were otherwise than affectionate to her sister ; I have perfectly 
 dreaded his returning to England, lest he should be again 
 thrown in her way. But she never named him, and it is evident 
 to me that she has got into a set of her own that she prefers to 
 every other. I shall return her call without the slightest feel- 
 ing of alarm, and we can go together, if you hke it." 
 
 It is probable that Mrs. Hubert prolonged this discussion a 
 little, in order to give her young friend, Caroline Seymour, time 
 to recover from the very evident embarrassment which the 
 recent scene had occasioned her. Her brother was stm hanging 
 over her chair, and whispering something that seemed like a 
 gentle remonstrance. Elizabeth Hubert sat gazing at them with 
 a sort of painful surprise on her beautiful and expressive counte- 
 nance, which did not escape her mother, who in her heart was 
 
A POSING QUESTION. 817 
 
 longing even for her dearly-loved Mrs. Henderson to go, that 
 she might speak to her. 
 
 At length the visit of her old friends, who were in London 
 only for a few weeks, was brought to a conclusion by Miss 
 Peters reminding her sister of the necessity for their driving to 
 some distant shop before they returned home to the early dinner 
 which was to precede their going to the play. Sir Henry Sey- 
 mour had taken his leave before, and Caroline, on whose soft 
 cheek the traces of tears were visible when she raised her head to 
 bid him adieu, followed him out of the room, and had not since 
 returned, so that Mrs. Hubert and her daughter were tete-a-tete. 
 
 " "What can be the reason, mamma, of Sir Henry Seymour's 
 permitting his sister to make the acquaintance of Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough?" said Elizabeth, the moment their visitors were gone. 
 " It is, it must be, his doing, and his wish. CaroUne never has 
 any wiU but his, yet it was impossible not to see her repugnance 
 to this introduction, though she put herself forward in a way 
 she never did before to meet it. What can it mean ? " 
 
 " I am quite as much at a "loss as you are, Elizabeth. Did 
 Caroline ever mention to you her brother's acquaintance with 
 the O'Donagoughs? " 
 
 " Yes, mamma ; but what she said was not so much inform- 
 ing me of his acquaintance with them, as inquiring of me, 
 whether they were really our relations." 
 
 "And when was this, Ehzabeth? " 
 
 " Duriag the fortnight that Sir Henry passed with us at Paris 
 last year, when he brought over Carohne." 
 
 " Can you remember exactly what she said ? She must have 
 given some reason for asking the question." 
 
 " I recoUect thinking that she felt very much ashamed at 
 asking the question, and that was the reason I never mentioned 
 it to you. She asked it very earnestly, and as if she were much 
 interested in the answer; but when I had rephed to all her 
 questions, which I did, of course, very frankly, she coloured so 
 much, and seemed, as I thought, to be so extremely ashamed of 
 her curiosity, that I fancied it would be treacherous, and hke 
 betraying her having committed a fault, if I repeated the con- < 
 versation to you." 
 
 " Has she ever referred to the conversation since ? " 
 
 '^' Never." 
 
 " Will you tell me, Elizabeth, exactly what it was she did ask 
 of you?" 
 
 Elizabeth meditated for a moment, and then replied — 
 
 " I remember perfectly that the question appeared to me at 
 the time, to be a prnpos of nothing, and it was asked a very few 
 hours after their arrival ; as soon, indeed, as we were alone 
 together. As well as I can recollect, her words were, ' WiU 
 you tell me, dear Ehzabeth, if you have any relations of the 
 
318 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 name of O'Donagough? ' I answered, ' Yes, we have ; mamma 
 has an aunt who is married to a person of that name.' ' Have 
 they ever been in AustraUa, and have they a daughter ? ' de- 
 manded Carohne. I answered ' Yes ' to both these questions, 
 and then ventured to inquire why she was so anxious to know. 
 It was then that she seemed to think she was doing wrong, for 
 she coloured violently, and actually trembled, exactly as she did 
 to-day. ' It was my brother,' she said, ' it was on his account 
 that I wished to know.' I wished excessively to ask for what 
 i».',asonhe could be curious about it, but I did not, because I saw 
 that she was positively suffering ; so from that time to this, the 
 name of O'Donagough has never been mentioned by either of us." 
 
 " Sir Henry must have met them accidentally^" said Mrs. 
 Hubert, "when they probably did us the honour to mention the 
 relationship, which, perhaps, he did us the honour of disbehev- 
 ing, and feehng some curiosity to ascertain the truth, commis- 
 sioned his sister to inquire." 
 
 " Yes, exactly so, mamma ; that is precisely the way in which 
 I interpreted the thing myself, and it was because I thought the 
 curiosity both natural and pardonable, that I chose to say nothing 
 about it. But it strikes me that though your suggestion accounts 
 perfectly for what passed at Paris, it throws no light whatever on 
 the extraordinary scene of to-day. It was very natural that Sir 
 Henry Seymour, if acquainted with the O'Donagough family, 
 might doubt their relationship to you, mamma ; but the having 
 ascertained that such was the fact, could not surely render it 
 necessary for Carohne to testify such extraordinary eagerness 
 for an introduction, and such very vehement emotion when it 
 took place. I saw Sir Henry's countenance too, and its expres- 
 sion was perfectly extraordinary. He may have been very much 
 surprised, and shocked too, perhaps, at discovering that Mrs. 
 O'Donagough was our aunt, though that is presuming him to be 
 a very silly person indeed, but even that wiU not account, no, not 
 in the least degree, for the species of emotion which his features 
 betrayed. I am quite sure there, is some mystery in all this." 
 
 " I cannot conceive the possibihty of any," rephed Mrs. 
 Hubert. " The notion of Sir Henry Seymour and the family of 
 O'Donagough having any mystery in conunon, is too prepos- 
 terous ; time generally explains all things, and we must trust to 
 his agency, Elizabeth, to explain this." 
 
 The few moments occupied by this conversation was a longer 
 period of time than Mrs. Hubert and her daughter had passed 
 together tete-a-tete since their arrival in Berkeley-square, and 
 another burst of thunder at the door now told them that it was 
 over. Another, and another succeeded, as the time for the high 
 tide of gossip approached, and the drawing-room looked almost 
 full when agaip the thunder came, and Lord Mucklebmy was 
 annoimced. 
 
A DISCORDANT MATCH. 319 
 
 This facetious nobleman, though not a very intimate, was a 
 very old acquaintance of the Hubert family, and seeing that close 
 access to Mrs. Hubert was for the time impossible, as every seat 
 near her was occupied, he deposited his heavy person in a large 
 fauteuil just behind EHzabeth, and after expressing in cordial 
 but courtly phrase his admiration and astonishment at her 
 growth and her beauty, he began uttering and discussing jokes 
 and gossip, in his usual style, concerning everybody whom he 
 conceived to be of her acquaintance. 
 
 " So, Sir Edward and his rich ward have settled accounts 
 I hear, and are the best friends in the world again. They 
 say that Sir Edward's management has been admirable, and that 
 there never was known so profitable a minority. It is a strange 
 match that he is going to make. I beg your pardon, however, 
 my dear young lady, I totally forgot the near relationship." 
 
 " What match, my lord ? " said Elizabeth, striving to speak 
 tranquilly, "and of what relationship does your lordship speak ? " 
 
 " Mrs. O'Donagough is your mother's aunt, my dear, is she 
 not?" 
 
 " She is, my lord," replied the poor girl, with lips as white as 
 ashes, and a voice so hoarse as to be hardly intelligible. 
 
 Lord Mucklebiu'y perceived that she was sufifering from some 
 painful emotion, and a moment's thought convinced him that 
 he had made a most unfortunate hit, and that this collateral 
 descendant of his proud old friend, Lady Elizabeth Norris, was 
 wounded beyond bearing by being reminded of her vulgar con- 
 nections. Amused by this strong trait of hereditary feehng, 
 yet much too really polite to be capable of exciting it further, 
 his lordship rejoined in a tone 6{ flourishing compliment. 
 
 " Distant as the connection is. Miss Hubert, there is some 
 share of the same remarkable beauty that I now see before me. 
 Sir Henry Seymour would never have become attached to Miss " 
 O'Donagough, if the young lady's eyes had not sparkled with 
 something of kindred brightness to your own." 
 
 Another group of morning visitors entered at this moment, 
 and among them Elizabeth fancied she saw some one to whom 
 she wished immediately to pay her compliments. It appeared, 
 however, that upon drawing near the door, she discovered that 
 she was mistaken, for standing aside while the party passed in, 
 she waited only till the doorway was clear, then sHpped through 
 it, and was not again visible that morning. 
 
 Mrs. Hubert had -remarked her daughter's exit ; she re- 
 marked also that she did not retiu-n, and wishing to inquire if 
 it were any aihnent which occasioned this sudden retreat, she 
 entered the dressing-room of EUzabeth before she proceeded to 
 make her dinner toilet in her own. 
 
 " Is anything the matter with you, my love ? " she said, 
 approaching the easy-chair into which the young lady liad 
 
320 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 thrown herself; "why did you leave the dra^v^ng-room so 
 suddenly ? You look as if you had been crying, EHzabeth." 
 
 " No, mamma. There is nothing at all the matter with me, 
 only I have been surprised, very much surprised ; but the mystery 
 is quite explained. I have found out, mamma, the reason why 
 Caroline was so anxious to be introduced to the O'Donagoughs, 
 and why she seemed so extremely interested about them." 
 
 " Have you, EUzabeth ? " replied her mother, drawing a 
 chair, and sitting down beside her. " Do, pray, communicate 
 the discovery to me, for I confess the whole thing has piqued 
 my curiosity exceedingly." 
 
 " Sir Henry Seymour is going to be married to my cousin 
 Martha." 
 
 " Sir Henry Seymour going to be married to your cousin 
 Martha? That is a very foolish jest, my dear, whoever in- 
 vented it," replied her mother, with rather a disdainful smile. 
 
 " Lord Mucklebury did not speak of it as any jest, mamma, 
 but as a fact perfectly well known. I am surprised as much 
 'as you can be," continued Ehzabeth, " but I see no reason for 
 doubting its truth ; on the contrary, have we not the greatest 
 reason for believing that it is true ? How else can we account, 
 mamma, for the strange scene of this morning ? " 
 
 " I should account for it in any way, Elizabeth, rather than 
 this," and there was a glow of painful feehng on Mrs. Hubert's 
 cheek as she said these words, which caused Elizabeth to move 
 still nearer to her, and to say as she took her hand and tenderly 
 pressed it, " My dearest mother, is there any other possible 
 way in which we can account for it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hubert did not immediately reply ; there were many 
 thoughts working together in her head, which kept her silent. 
 The young man of whom they spoke was a favourite with her, 
 though the vexation and anxiety which he had caused 'to his 
 guardian were well known to her in every particular, for Lady 
 Stephenson and herself were truly sisters. But notwith- 
 standing all this, notwithstanding the lamentations/s&e had 
 been accustomed to hear concerning his aversion to 'a, college 
 life, and his very blamable frohc of secreting himself for' nearly 
 a year from the knowledge of his attached though somewhat 
 pertinacious guardian, notwithstanding all this, Mrs. Hubert 
 both liked and esteemed the youth. His tender devotion to 
 his young orphan sister ; his repentance for the wrong-headed 
 obstinacy of his concealment expressed with such manly frank- 
 ness ; his joyous, yet gentle spirit, and the bright intelligence 
 which sparkled through every hvely sally, had won from her 
 approval that she was aware was rapidly approaching to 
 affection, and the more rapidly because her husband shared it. 
 Neither of them, perhaps, were insensible to the evident ad- 
 miration with which Elizabeth had inspired him, and, though 
 
AU EJITiARRASSING QOESTION. 821 
 
 as yet the subject had never been named between them, neither 
 of them felt indifferent about it, or unaware that it was hardly- 
 possible any man could propose for her that they should be 
 more cordially inclined to approve. All this was too fully in 
 Mrs. Hubert's head to make it at all easy for her to reply to her 
 daughter's question. Elizabeth watched her mother's coun- 
 tenance during this interval, and, at length, she repeated, " Is 
 it possible, mamma, to account for it otherwise ? " 
 
 Thus forced to speak, she said, "Forgive me, Elizabeth, but I 
 must have better authority than yours before I beheve it. Lord 
 Mucklebury is a professed jester — he probably meant to mystify 
 you — or it is possible that amidst his flights and flourislies you 
 have misunderstood him. So I shall not set down Sir Henry 
 Seymour as thejiance of Miss O'Donagough, till I have learnt it 
 from some other quarter than the facetious Lord Mucklebury." 
 
 So saying, Mrs. Hubert rose, and, having received a very 
 fervent kiss from her silent daughter, left her room, and im- 
 mediately repaired to that of Miss Seymour. 
 
 The poor girl had thrown herself upon the bed, and, as it 
 seemed, had actually cried herself to sleep. She started up as 
 Mrs. Hubert approached the bed, and uttering something about 
 being quite ashamed of her laziness, stood up, to hear wiiat her 
 kind friend was come to say to her. 
 
 "My dear Carohne," said Mrs. Hubert, "will you let me 
 ask you how your brother first became acquainted with the 
 O'Donagough family ? " 
 
 An expression of the most painful kind took possession of 
 the young girl's features, and after the struggle of a moment, 
 her tears began to flow. 
 
 " I cannot bear to distress you, my dear child," said Mrs. 
 Hubert, " nor can I comprehend how my question can do it. 
 You are, of course, aware that Mrs. O'Donagough is a relation 
 of mine, but both her husband and herself are persons so little 
 likely to fall in your brother's way, that I feel curious to know 
 the origin of their acquaintance." 
 
 Instead of replying, Miss Seymour only permitted her tears 
 to flow afresh, and hid her face in her pocket-handkerchief. 
 
 " My dear Caroline ! This emotion is most extraordinary ! 
 If the idea of this acquaintance is so painful to you, why did 
 you appear so eager, my dear, to be included in it ? " 
 
 " Eor my brother's sake, Mrs. Hubert, for his sake only ; 
 surely you must guess " 
 
 " That I should never seek the acquaintance for my own" were 
 the words which would have followed, had not the young lady, 
 recollecting that Mrs. O'Donagough was the aunt of her kind 
 hostess, suddenly stopped herself, amidst blushes and renewed 
 agitation. 
 
 Mrs. Hubert waited for a moment to see if she would go on, 
 
 u 
 
322 THE WIDOW MAEMED. 
 
 but finding she did not, she dropped the hand she had tatsn, 
 and saying, with a sigh which she could not repress, " Yes, my 
 poor Caroline, I do guess," left the room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 As Mrs. O'Donagough descended the stairs from Mrs. Hubert's 
 drawing-room, she suddenly recollected the existence of her be- 
 loved brother Mr. WiUoughby ; and, with a httle inward laugh 
 of delight at remembering how very much she was now above 
 caring for the kindness and patronage of any little old man in 
 the world, she stopped short in her passage through the hall, 
 though it was ringing with the sound of " Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 carriage," and demanded of the porter the address of this, till 
 now, very precious connection. 
 
 On being informed that Mr. Willoughbyresided in Park- 
 lane, she determined to "take him," as she told Patty, and the 
 Misses Perkins, in her way to Hyde Park, where she intended 
 to regale the world of fashion for half an hour by the sight of 
 herself and her bright-eyed daughter. Could the gentle Mr. 
 WiUoughby have had the slightest gUmpse of fore-knowledge as 
 to who was making her rattling, dashing way towards him, it 
 is probable that, despite all his conjugal respect for the memory 
 of his first lady, he would have retired to his bed-room, and de- 
 clared himself, very truly perhaps, too iU to see any one. For 
 the impression left by his adventures at Brighton was terrible, 
 and of the kind not likely to evaporate by the process of medi- 
 tation. But though in all the ordinary affairs of hfe it may be 
 very truly said, that — 
 
 Old experifnce dolh attain 
 
 To sometbirg like propheiic strain, 
 
 yet in this case it would have led him altogether wrong. A 
 change had come over Mrs. O'Donagough, which insured his 
 safety more effectually than any bolts and bars could have done, 
 for had her feelings still retained the same ardent warmth to- 
 v/ards him, such impediments would hardly have rendered him 
 safe. But now the tempest of her love was effectually stiUed, and 
 all that remained of the violent emotions which had so strongly 
 moved her, was a dignified yet condescending politeness, which, 
 her dress also being taken into consideration, was sure to keep 
 him from any further personal violence. 
 
 Fortunately the mild old gentleman was not alone, when his 
 drawing-room door was gently opened by his weU-taught ser- 
 vant, and the names of Mrs. and Miss. O'Donagough pronounced. 
 His daughter, Mrs. Stephenson, was seated beside his arm-chair, 
 and as he involuntarily exclaimed, " Oh dear ! oh dear 1 " she 
 cheered him by replying, " Never mind, papa ! I'U stay with 
 you ; I want to see her again immensely. I am told she is 
 
THE DIGNITY OF DKESS. 323 
 
 come into a great fortune, and that she is ten thousand times a 
 greater curiosity than ever." 
 
 These words were hardly wliispered, before the subject of 
 them swam into the room radiant with rouge, and glossy as the 
 richest satin could make her. Had she found Mr. Willoughby 
 alone, it is very likely she might have been able to speak 
 plain, and that a few moderate affectionate inquiries would 
 have sufficed to satisfy her feelings, and to display as much of 
 her changed circumstances as the occasion required ; but the 
 sight of Mrs. Stephenson inspired her with very different 
 thoughts and purposes. She remembered how the noble spirit 
 on which she prided herself had been shaken by the crowd in 
 green and gold ; and more bitterly still did she remember how 
 often the application of the httle lady's eye-glass had stood in 
 the stead of every other salutation, when she had met her amidst 
 the crowded promenades of Brighton. How her heart at that 
 moment throbbed with thankfulness as she remembered that the 
 lace on her mantlet cost a guinea a yard ! 
 
 But her throat swelled, externally and internally too ; a 
 third chin supervened, and the clearness of her articulation was 
 considerably affected. Patty followed, looking, past all contra- 
 diction, exceedingly handsome, but as much like a gentlewoman 
 as a ringleted head in a hairdresser's shop window. 
 
 " How do, dear sir ? " said Mrs. O'Donagough, lispingly, 
 and holding out a single finger as she approached the idolised 
 brother-in-law of former days. " I know you are but a poor 
 creature as to health, and therefore I have waived all ceremony, 
 and come to inquire for you without taking any notice of your 
 not having waited upon me. Never mind about getting up ; 
 perhaps you have got the gout. There, there, sit down, and 
 keep yourself quiet ; you look dreadfully thin, to be sure, but 
 yet I may pay you a compliment upon your complexion : if you 
 ain't flushed, you've got a capital colour. But perhaps you may 
 be heated, sir? Dear me ! what a monstrous small room you 
 have got ! When you are well enough to come and see me, sir, 
 ia Curzon -street, you wiU quite enjoy the size of my rooms." 
 
 Inexpressibly relieved, Mr. Willoughby repKed with great 
 kindness of manner that he was very glad she had met with a 
 house she liked, and hoped Mr. O'Donagough and the young 
 lady were quite well. 
 
 " You do not remember me, Mrs. O'Donagough ? " said Mrs. 
 Stephenson, laughing; "we have never met since we left 
 Brighton, and the gaieties of London have put all your former 
 acquaintances out of your head. I hope I see you very well ? " 
 
 " Yeas — perfectly well, I thank you. I adore London, and 
 never really enjoyed my health till we settled here," replied Mrs. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 " It does, in truth, seem to have agreed with you extremely. 
 
 XJ 2 
 
324 THE WIDOW MAEHIBD. 
 
 You look charmingly plump and well, and so does your daughter 
 too ; she is so wonderfully grown and improved, that I should 
 not have known her without hearing her named. Have you 
 seen your cousin Compton, lately, Miss Patty ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am," said Miss Patty, very sulkily. 
 
 " Indeed ? That is too bad of him ! " rejoined the mischievous 
 lady, " for he is in the Guards now, and constantly in town." 
 
 " Is he ? " said Mrs. O'Donagough, in a tone of rather languid 
 indiflference ; " I wonder I have never heard Seymour mention 
 him. But Henry knows," she added, with a shght laugh, " that 
 I never patronise mere boys." 
 
 " Who is Henry ? Are you speaking of Sir Henry Seymour ? " 
 said Mrs. Stephenson, half amused and half puzzled. 
 
 " Yeas— Sir Henry Seymour ; your brother Sir Edward's 
 ward, you know. He is a great friend of ours," she added, after 
 a pause, and with her eyes very fully directed to Patty. 
 
 " Impossible ! " had very nearly escaped Mrs. Stephenson's 
 lips in return ; for she understood the look, and the accent too, 
 exactly as it was intended she should do, and having ideas of her 
 own on the subject of Sir Henry Seymour, which rendered the 
 information they conveyed extremely far from agreeable, she 
 had some difficulty not to pronounce a flat contradiction. But 
 having thought better of it before the word was spoken, she only 
 said, " Have you known him long ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes," was the reply ; but these two httle words were 
 spoken in a very skilful manner, and said much. 
 
 Had Mrs. Stephenson been rather less warm-hearted and 
 warm-headed, she might have given Sir Henry Seymour the 
 advantage of a httle more consideration of probabilities than she 
 did upon hearing this " Oh ! yes." But she looked at the great 
 brilliant staring beauty opposite to her, and remembering the 
 pale unobtrusive loveUness of Ehzabeth, permitted herself to 
 tingle to the fingers' ends with indignation, while she received 
 the impression that the man whom she had fixed upon in her 
 heart for her nephew, was adoring the meretricious goddess 
 instead of the genuine angel. 
 
 If not reasonable enough to acquit liim, however, she soon 
 recovered sufficient discretion to conceal what she felt, and con- 
 soled herself with the behef that she should still be in time to 
 give such a caution to her sister Agnes, as might check the pre- 
 sent intimate intercourse between the young people, before it 
 had gone far enough to compromise the happiness of her dearly 
 beloved, and greatly admired niece. 
 
 Notwithstanding Mrs. Stephenson's quickly awakened 
 caution, the weU-contented Mrs. O'Donagough saw that she had 
 made an impression ; and skilfully passed on to other themes, 
 not having any wish or intention of fixing the imputation which 
 she had suggested at all more deeply than might suffice to plague 
 
TRUE GENTILITY UNPUECHASABLE. 325 
 
 the faitliless Sir Henry a little, and add a feather to her daughter's 
 coronet of conquests, without committing herself by any positive 
 assertions. 
 
 " I suppose you don't plague yourself about going to court 
 now, Mr. Willoughby ? it's a dreadful bore, isn't it ? But that's 
 one of the troubles which having a daughter to bring out 
 occasions ! " said Mrs. O'Donagough, with a sigh ; then turning 
 abruptly to Mrs. Stephenson, she added, " When is EUzabeth 
 Hubert to be presented ? " 
 
 It is probable that this question, preceded as it was by the 
 hint of MiB. O'Donagough's own intentions, might not have 
 received a very direct answer, had it not been that the fair lady 
 to whom it was addressed was entirely lost in reverie, and quite 
 unconscious of everything that had been said since Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough's insidious " Oh ! yes," had entered her ears. Without 
 any hesitation, therefore, she replied, with a shght start from 
 the suddenness of the address, " At the next drawing-room." 
 
 " Well, Patty, we must not indulge to-day in a long gossip 
 with your good uncle ; we must be off, dear, or positively we 
 shall not get through what we have to do ; Lady Susan always 
 keeps me such an age ! Adieu ! brother Willoughby ! Come 
 and see us, there's a good man — ^it wiU do you a vast deal of 
 good, depend upon it. Changing the air is always good for an 
 invalid ; and most certainly you can hardly have a greater 
 change than from this little bit of a room to our suite of draw- 
 ing-rooms in Curzon-street. Good morning, Mrs. Stephenson ; 
 of course I shall be vastly happy to see you, if you choose to call. 
 Ceremony between such very near connections is quite ridicu- 
 lous. Good morning." 
 
 Mrs. Stephenson was lost in astonishment, Mr. Willoughby 
 in dehght, at the prodigious change which unknown cir- 
 cumstances had wrought in the style and manners of Mrs. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 " What in the world does aU this mean, papa? " exclaimed 
 the stiU pretty Nora, as soon as the door was closed upon her. 
 "She has ceased to hug you, does not appear to retain the 
 slightest awe of me, and both herself and her Brobdignag 
 beauty are dressed a peindre, that is to say, their dresses are 
 perfect. But unfortunately for such folks, there is no Madame 
 anything who has taken out a patent for disclosing the secret of 
 putting them on. Thank heaven ! that is a power still excluT 
 sively reserved a nous autres, and not all the Reform Bills in the 
 world can take it from us." 
 
 " Dearest Nora ! that is all very true, I believe," said her 
 father, rousing himself from the agitation occasioned by the 
 sudden apparition of Mrs. O'Donagough, and profusely steep- 
 ing his handkerchief in eau de Cologne ; " but what are the 
 peculiarities of dress, compared to those of manner ? I do asr 
 
326 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 sure you, my dear, that I have the very greatest desire to be 
 kind and cordial to all with whom I became connected by my 
 first marriage. I have very particular reasons for wishing it. 
 
 But this good Mrs. O'Donagough's manner used to be 
 
 however, there is no occasion to say anything more about that 
 now ; I am very thankful, Nora, very thankful, indeed, that it 
 is quite changed. I really hope, my dear, from their dress and 
 appearance altogether, that some considerable fortune has come 
 to them. It must be on the husband's side, for I am pretty sure 
 there was no chance of such a thing on hers. Mrs. Ehzabeth 
 Compton certainly is a woman of good fortune — ^but I think I 
 have understood ■" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, papa ; Mrs. Elizabeth Compton's fortune is 
 disposed of elsewhere ; none of the satins and laces come from 
 her — I am really dying with curiosity to find out what- it all 
 means. By your leave, cher papa ! I will ring the bell. I must 
 positively make a few inquiries. Be so good as to send my page 
 up stairs," was the order given when a servant answered the bell. 
 
 " Ah <ja, Achille ? Vous avez des yeux, mon enfant. 
 Dites-moi un peu quelle sorte d'equipage etait-il qui vient de 
 partir? " 
 
 " Superbe, Madame." 
 
 " Et les gens ? les ohevaux ? " 
 
 " Superbes, Madame ; tout etait superbe — ^parfaitement bien 
 monti5." 
 
 " C'est bon. Va-t-en." 
 
 " Now is not this most extraordinary, papa ? Do you re- 
 member Mrs. O'Donagough's style of trotting about Brighton ? 
 Oh ! you must — ^for how often did she make you trot with her? 
 And you hear what her present style is ! Is it not mysterious ? " 
 
 " No, my dear ; not if Mr. O'Donagough has got a fortune 
 left him." 
 
 " That is true, certainly ; and yet, in all cases of that kind, 
 one is pretty sure to hear of the fortune first, and see the efieot 
 of it afterwards." 
 
 " That makes no great difference, Nora. They could not 
 spend all this money if they had not got it ; and I am certain 
 nobody can feel more inclined to rejoice at their good fortune 
 than I do." 
 
 " Did you observe what she said about Sir Henry Seymour, 
 papa ? " 
 
 " Not very much, Nora ; I was really selfish enough to be 
 thinking of myself, and of the great comfort of her being more 
 quiet in her manners," replied the gentle Mr. Willoughby. 
 
 " I shall visit her, papa, I am quite determined upon it." 
 
 " Do, my dear ; it will be very good-natured of you." 
 
 " Perhaps not quite that," said Mrs. Stephenson laughing ; 
 "nevertheless, my motive is not a bad one either — I cannot 
 
bonny's shixees theeateked. 327 
 
 comprehend tlie thing at all — Seymour, of all men in the world I 
 I must throw some light upon all this, papa, and I know not 
 any mode of doing this, so effectual, as introducing my own 
 radiant presence into the scene of action." 
 
 " If there be a mystery, Nora," replied her father, " I cer- 
 tainly can name no better investigator than yourself ; but I 
 suspect you will find none. My good sister-in-law has by some 
 means or other grown rich, and this, somehow or other, has 
 rendered her less affectionate, or, at any rate, less demonstrative. 
 
 " I do not think I should mind asking her to dinner now, if 
 you and Agnes will arrange it all for me." 
 
 " Very well, papa ; nous verrons. And now, good bye ; I 
 have a thousand things to think about and to do." 
 
 ■^ *- ■Jp is ■Jp 
 
 So had Mrs. O'Donagough. On re-entering her carriage 
 she seated herself with an energy of descent that severely tried 
 the temper of the springs, and set the two Miss Perkinses 
 swinging. " I have got that much out of her, at any rate, 
 Patty, haven't I, my dear ? " said she, dismissing her exti'a chin, 
 aud recovering her voice. 
 
 " About jNIiss Ehzabeth's going to court, mamma ? Yes, I did 
 want to get at that, and now we have it, safe and sure," replied 
 Patty, joyously. " I must say I shall enjoy going the same day 
 that she does. She is such a quiz of a girl ! and oh ! so proud 
 and stiff, Matilda ! I am sure she would make you both sick if 
 you could see her ; she is ten times worse than she was at 
 Brighton." 
 
 " The Lord forbid, Patty ! for see her they shall, you may 
 depend upon that. Upon my life, girls, she has no more colour 
 than my pocket handkercliief, and though I won't pretend to 
 say that her features are bad, I give you my honour that she's 
 no more to be compared to Patty, than chalk to cheese. But 
 here we are, girls — out with ye all! this is the court-dress 
 maker's, and now you shall see if I don't make Donny's shiners 
 gallop : he told me to spare nothing in our court-dresses, and 
 I don't intend it. Dear Lady Susan ! what should we do without 
 her ! I promised I would send her a plume exactly the same as 
 my own — and that shall be one of the handsomest that ever was 
 seen at St. James's. She deserves it, dear kind soul ! for if she 
 had not offered to present us I should have had to ask some of 
 my own nasty stiff-backed relations ; and, after all, you know, 
 there is not one of them that is the daughter of an earl. She 
 shall have her feathers, dear old soul ! she may depend upon it, 
 and her table too, every night if she likes it, with her own stakes 
 and her own party." 
 
 This grateful effusion was confidentially uttered in the ear of 
 Miss Louisa Perkins (now pronjoted to the regular, but by no 
 means sinecure place of JSIrs. O'Donagough's toady) as they 
 
328 THE WIDOW MAllRIED. 
 
 walked together up tlie stairs which led to Madame BoiK^tou's 
 splendid show-rooms. 
 
 " Oh ! what a sight ! did you ever ! " exclaimed Patty, as 
 she entered this fairy-land of woman's wishes, and of woman's 
 dreams, embodied and tangible. 
 
 " Dear me ! how beautiful ! " cried Miss Louisa. 
 
 "Oh! goodness! how lovely!" sighed Miss Matilda. 
 
 " Can you fancy any woman looking quite ugly in that 
 angelic bonnet? " demanded Patty. 
 
 " Let me see Madame Boneton herself," commanded Mrs. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 These last words were not spoken in a tone to be neglected, 
 not to mention that the elegant young lady who replied to them 
 had seen the splendid equipage from which the speaker 
 descended. 
 
 " Madame will be here immediately," said the elegant young 
 lady. " She is at this moment engaged with the Duchess of 
 Liddesdale respecting her only daughter, the beautiful Lady 
 Isabelk's presentation dress. But she must have nearly finished, 
 for they have been here a long time." 
 
 "Isn't it lucky, Louisa?" whispered Mrs. O'Donagough; 
 " now we shall be able to find out exactly the right thing. One 
 beautiful only daughter going to be presented, especially as she 
 seems to be of suitable rank, may safely serve as a pattern for 
 another. Let us sit down here, Louisa, while we wait. Isn't 
 it all lovely ? " 
 
 " Lovely indeed!" responded Miss Louisa. 
 
 " To be sure I do sometimes think," said Mrs. O'Donagough 
 with a fulness of satisfaction which for the moment banished 
 aU reserve, and made her almost think aloud, " I do some- 
 times think, Louisa, that great abilities, thorough real cleverness 
 I mean, is a better fortune for a girl, that is supposing she is 
 tolerably well-looking, than almost any money in the world. 
 You know I open my heart to you about everything, and there- 
 fore I don't mind telling you that my father and mother, not- 
 withstanding their high birth, and great gentility, had no more 
 right to expect that I should ever be in such a place as this, 
 ordering court-dresses for myself and my daughter, than you 
 have to be queen of England. Oh ! dear ! — ^how well I remember 
 going shopping in our httle town, where my father was the rector. 
 It was a very fine hving, and a magnificent parsonage-house ; but 
 I do so wellremember my contrivances to get handsome baU-dresses 
 for myself and my sister Sophy — ha ! ha ! ha ! — ^I can't contrive 
 to make you exactly understand all about it, but to be sure I have 
 managed, from that time to this, to get on monstrous well." 
 
 A movement in an inner room, and then the stately march 
 of three ladies out of it, followed by Madame Boneton, an- 
 nounced that the consultation was broken up ; and in another 
 
PROFITABE JEALOUSY. 329 
 
 minute, the elegant young lady having whispered something in 
 the ear of the imperial-looking mistress of the establishment, 
 Mrs. O'Donagough's highest state of felicity began, by seeing 
 that august personage approach her, and hearing the enticing 
 words, " What may I have the honour of showing you, ma'am? " 
 
 " I wish to see whatever you have of the very best and high- 
 est style, by way of court-dress. Presentation dresses — that is, I 
 mean, for my daughter ; of course I do not mean that / have never 
 been presented — that would be a good joke, Louisa, wouldn't it ? 
 But nevertheless I wish that my own dress should be superb, and 
 that of my daughter something nearly equal to it. By the way, 
 what did the Duchess of Liddesdale order for Lady Isabella ? " 
 
 This was said in Mrs. O'Donagough's best manner, and if 
 overheard by her husband would unquestionably have won from 
 him the cordial exclamation of " Well done, my Barnaby ! " Its 
 effect on Madame Boneton was just what she intended. 
 
 " You know her grace, madam?" 
 
 " We meet at every party throughout the season, but I won't 
 tell you that we are great friends, which I dare say you saw as 
 she passed. But the fact is, my daughter has stood in the way 
 of Lady Isabella more than once, and the foolish duchess cannot 
 forgive it. I don't care a straw for that, however, it only piques 
 me to keep up the rivalship. I often say that the duchess's 
 jealousy of my daughter will make the fortune of my dress- 
 makers. What has been ordered? you must positively tell me, 
 Madame Boneton, what has been ordered to-day for Lady 
 Isabella?" 
 
 Madame Boneton was almost as clever a woman as Mrs. 
 Barnaby, and immediately gave such a description of the noble 
 young lady's dress as enabled her to dispose of various articles 
 for which she was rather particularly anxious to obtain a sale, 
 and the business ended by a dress being ordered for Miss Patty, 
 and for her mamma hkewise, both of which were ingeniously con- 
 trived in such a manner as to accommodate more embroidery, more 
 flowers, more fringe, more tassels, more spangles, and more lace, 
 than any two dresses ever carried before into a royal presence. 
 
 It would be too difficult to describe justly the swelling joy, 
 the broadly-smiling contentment, the swimming ecstasy of Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, as she made her last conge to Madame Boneton, 
 for any wise pen to attempt it. She hardly felt the ground be- 
 neath her feet as she descended to her carriage, though had the 
 ground beneath her feet been sentient, the unconsciousness could 
 not have been reciprocal, for not only did the high consciousness 
 of what she had been about dilate her majestic person to the 
 eye, but it gave a firmness to her tread which might have 
 rivalled the sublime march of an elephant. 
 
 " Let this plume of feathers follow me to my carnage," she 
 said ; "I mean it as a present to a friend, and wiU leave it as I 
 
330 THE TVIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 go home ; remember that every direction I have given be accu- 
 rately followed. The slightest inaccuracy will be remarked ; and 
 as expense is no object, let every article be perfect, absolutely 
 perfect in its kind." 
 
 The two Miss Perkinses, intimate as they were with Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, had never seen her at anything like this degree of 
 elevation before ; there was a sort of sublime excitement in aU 
 her looks and words that almost made them tremble, and which, 
 added to the orders they had heard her give, made them follow 
 her down stairs, with feelings of veneration almost too profound 
 to be pleasant. Even Patty herself was perhaps a little aston- 
 ished, but she had too much inherited firmness of spirit to be 
 overwhelmed by it. 
 
 " Isii't mamma a first-rate thorough-goer ? " she said to her 
 friend Matilda, while waiting for Mrs. O'Donagough's not 
 very easy introduction of herself into her carriage. " How she 
 has wriggled papa out of his stingy ways, to be sure ! " 
 
 Between the dweUing of Mrs. Boneton, which was in St. 
 James's-street, to that of Lady Susan Deerwell, which was 
 situated in Green-street, Grosvenor-square, Mrs. O'Donagough 
 never uttered a word ; it is probable that her feelings were too 
 big for utterance. When the servant's inquiry for her ladyship 
 was answered by the single word " Yes," Mrs. O'Donagough broke 
 tliis expressive silence by- earnestly ejaculating "Thank God!" 
 and having, as usual on all visiting occasions, told the dear 
 Perkinses to sit stiU and amuse themselves till she came back, 
 she proceeded, followed by Patty and the plume, up the 
 narrow staircase, to the dirty httle drawing-room of her noble 
 friend. 
 
 Lady Susan was sitting, as was her wont, in an old-fashioned 
 shabby-looking arm-chair, which, hke all the rest of her furni- 
 ture, had more of that sort of antiquity about it which results 
 from long and constant use, than from the well-preserved, or 
 well-imitated stateliness of the renaissance. Her ladyship's cap 
 was of exceedingly dirty blonde, and her ladyship's gown of 
 exceedingly long-worn satin. A cat, in better case than any- 
 thing else in the apartment, was seated in a chair opposite to 
 her, while on a perch close by it, all natural hostUity between 
 the parties appearing to be extinguished, screamed a magnifi- 
 cent cockatoo. The note of welcome uttered by this amiable 
 creature rendered all other greetings for some time inaudible, 
 but at length it betook itself to silently nodding its head, and 
 then her ladyship was heard to say, " Never mind, never mind 
 the bird. There, sit down, sit down both of you, but don't 
 disturb the cat. Take that chair, my girl, that one out there ; 
 I can't have my cat disturbed." 
 
 " How are you, my dearest Lady Susan ? " said Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, in an accent of deferential afieotiou ; " is that 
 
lADY SUSAN SMOOTHED DOWN. 331 
 
 abominable rheumatism that tormented you so last night, more 
 quiet to-day ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I am sure, anything about it just now, for 
 I've been busy — ^I've been making out my card account for the 
 last month. But I tell you what, Mrs. O'Donagough, the tea 
 you gave me last night was most abominable — so weak, I mean. 
 You must recollect, if you please, that if I come to your house 
 to play cards, I do it out of pure kindness, of course, to give a 
 good style to your rooms, you know — but then I must have tea 
 that will keep me awake, remember. I positively will not play 
 mthout it." 
 
 . " To be sure not, my dearest Lady Susan ! Good heaven ! 
 of course I I am so very much obliged to you for naming it ! it's 
 so like you ! such kindness ! so very friendly ! I am sure I can 
 never thank you enough ! " 
 
 This series of exclamations acted much as her ladyship's own 
 hand did upon the back of her ladyship's own cat, wliicli, jealous 
 it may be, of the near and passing approach of the visitor, was 
 come to look after her own interest, and now sat in the venerable 
 spinster's lap. In short, Mrs. O'Douagough's gentle touches 
 so far rubbed down the temper of the old lady, that she said with 
 rather rmusual civility, " Well ! and what do you come for now ? " 
 
 " Give me that box, Patty ! " said Mrs. O'Donagough, with- 
 out making any direct reply. '' Here, my dearest Lady Susan, 
 is the real object of my coming. May I flatter myself that these 
 feathers suit your taste ?" 
 
 " They are well enough for feathers,'' rephed the noble, but 
 very sour-looking maiden ; " but it is quite nonsense, and out of 
 the question, if you suppose I can stick them on by way of a 
 head-dress to go to court. That may do all very well for a 
 young girl, hke your blowsy miss there, with a cart-load of curls 
 on her head, but you know well enough it won't do for me ; I 
 must have a cap to wear with them, if they are to be of any use." 
 
 " Of course, my dearest Lady Susan, I never dreamt of any- 
 thing else ; but as I observed to Patty, as we drove along to 
 Madame Boneton's, it would not do at all for me to take the 
 liberty of buying your ladyship a cap, till your ladyship had 
 been kind enough to tell me what sort of one your ladyship 
 would like." 
 
 " Why, for that matter, there's no such great variety, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough. The only question is between Brussels point 
 and blonde, and I Uke the Brussels point best." 
 
 " And Brussels point it shall be, my dearest Lady Susan. 
 And now about the day, you know. The next drawing-room 
 is fixed, Madame Boneton tells me, for the 29th— I hope that 
 will suit your ladyship ? " 
 
 " Suit ? humph ! I can't very well say it suits me Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, for the plain truth is, I have got no suit at all. 
 
832 THE WIDOW MAKEIED. 
 
 It's years and years since I last went to court, and I thought 
 you knew that I should never have dreamed of going now, with 
 no earthly motive but just to present you and your daughter. 
 I should never have dreamed of going, if you had not promised 
 that I should have no trouble at all about it, and what's more, I 
 won't neither. Really I have no notion of it, it is quite too bad." 
 
 "My dearest Lady Susan!" began the fiightened Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, " you have only to say exactly what you want 
 and wish, and Madame Bondton shall send it in without your 
 having the least trouble in the world. Will your ladyship have 
 the great kindness to give me a little list of everything you would 
 like to have, and I will see to it, without giving your ladyship 
 the least atom of trouble in the world " ? 
 
 " There is no need of a list, Mrs. O'Donagough,'' replied 
 the old lady, taking a long pinch of snuff; "I only want a 
 proper dress to go to court in. The train must be black velvet, 
 and the petticoat' satin ; I don't care twopence about the colour. 
 Only don't forget the gloves and shoes, you know." 
 
 " I will forget nothing, dearest Lady Susan ! Tou wiU go 
 with us, then, on the 29th?" 
 
 " Yes, if all my things are sent in properly, without my 
 having any trouble about it, I wiU." 
 
 " Oond morning, then, dearest Lady Susan ! I wUl take care 
 that everything shall be right. Good morning." 
 
 " Take the plume back with you, for mercy's sake. I can't 
 think how you could be so thoughtless ! How do you suppose 
 my old Alice would like to have the plague of fastening it in ? " 
 
 " To be sure ! what a fool I am ! so very thoughtless ! Take 
 the box again, Patty, — Good morning, dearest Lady Susan ! " 
 
 " Good bye. There, that will do — ^I hate shaking hands. 
 Take care that I get some good tea this evening, Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough ; don't go and forget that." 
 
 "Depend upon it, dearest Lady Susan! depend upon it;" 
 and with these words Mrs. O'Donagough at length tore herself 
 from her most valued friend. 
 
 " To be sure nothing ever was more kind and flattering than 
 dear Lady Susan DeerweU's behaviour to Patty and me. People 
 may call it illiberal, or affected if they will, but I do like the 
 nobility, and it is no good to deny it," said Mrs. O'Donagough 
 as soon as she was re-seated in her carriage ; and she then 
 added, " I hope you won't be tired with a little more driving — 
 you two I mean, Louisa and Matilda — for you will have to get 
 home to Brompton, you know ; but I really must go down to 
 Madame Boneton's again." 
 
 Her obsequious friends, of course, assured her that the 
 greatest pleasure they could have was to go about with her. 
 On again reaching the portico of this votary- thronged temple 
 of fashion, Mrs. O'Donagough, in her usual unceremonious 
 
A MATERNAL LESSON IN MORALS. ."S3 
 
 manner of settling all things in which the dear, good Perkinses 
 were concerned, proclaimed that she did not wish them again to 
 enter it with her, and taking Patty, with the footman and the 
 box, mounted to the shrine, before which the priestesses were 
 still performing their respective offices. The most exact and 
 satisfactory orders were then given respecting the court-dress of 
 Lady Susan DeerweU; with a hint, in conclusion, that her 
 ladyship did not wish her ladyship's bill to be be sent in to her 
 ladyship till Christmas, at which season her ladyship always 
 settled all her ladyship's accounts. 
 
 " Good gracious, mamma ! " whispered Patty, as they 
 descended the stairs, " how frightened the old woman will be 
 when the bill is sent in ; I thought you were going to make her 
 a present of it all, and I am sure she thought so too." 
 
 " I dare say she did, my dear," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, 
 " and I had my suspicions that you might fall into the same 
 mistake, and it was just for that reason that I made you come 
 up, and left the Perkinses in the carriage, because I hope it will 
 be a useful lesson to you, Patty. When people have a great 
 object in view, my dear, and your papa says our going to court 
 is a very great object, they should always make use of every 
 means in their power to bring it about. But when it is done, 
 Patty, they of course owe it to themselves to take care that the 
 sacrifices they have made to obtain it should become as 
 little injurious to them as possible. This is the principle upon 
 which 1 have just acted, and you may depend upon it, my dear 
 child, that without iirm and steadfast principles of action, no 
 one win ever get honourably and prosperously through life." 
 
 "That's all very well, manuna," replied Patty ; "but I'U 
 bet you five pounds the old lady wiU never speak to you again 
 after she finds out the trick you have played her." 
 
 " Well, my dear," returned her mother, with great dignity 
 and composure, " and what difference will it make to me 
 whether she does or no ? I choose to have a person of title to 
 introduce me at St. James's ; to obtain this, I submit to endure 
 considerable annoyance, and to sufl^er many inconveniences. 
 Good — I ought to do this ; I should be unwise if I did not. 
 But the object once obtained, should I be wise to submit still to 
 these annoyances? No, Patty ; what was wise before, would be 
 folly after, and render me totally unworthy of the confidence your 
 father reposes in me. Remember all this, my dear girl, and always 
 act, as much as possible, in conformity to my example." 
 
 At this moment Mrs. O'Donagough's carriage, which had 
 been obliged to make way for another, recovered its place before 
 the door, and the mother and daughter entered it, the happier, 
 and the better, for the delay ; for the young lady felt that she 
 had hstened to what might be very useful to her, one day or 
 other, while the elder one enjoyed the most delightful satisfaction 
 
334 THE WIDOW MARKIED. 
 
 that can warm a parent's heart — namely, the consciousness of 
 having estabUshed an excellent principle in the breast of a child. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Two of the most exciting events that her greatly-varied life 
 had given rise to, were at this time rapidly approaching Mrs. 
 O'Donagough. The first was being presented, together with 
 her young daughter, at the court of her sovereign ; the other, 
 the giving her first ball at home. 
 
 After a very long deliberation, itwas decided that both these 
 momentous events should take place on one and the same day. 
 There were some reasons against this arrangement, but there 
 were more for it ; and moreover, of the latter number were the 
 two overpowering facts, first, that, with the exception of the 
 train, the whole court dress might be worn by both ladies at 
 the ball, and secondly, that having assembled together everybody 
 they knew, no other opportunity would be so favourable for 
 making the important circumstance of their presentation gene- 
 rally known. 
 
 This point once settled, the whole body and soul of Mrs. 
 O'Donagough were offered up with a sort of desperate intensity 
 to the business of preparation. Far different indeed, and 
 triumphantly did she remember the difference, were her prepa- 
 rations now, from what they had been the last time she antici- 
 pated the pleasure of seeing her " own relations," as she ever 
 described both families of Stephensons, as well as General 
 Hubert's. Perhaps the only point of resemblance was, that the 
 " dear good Perkinses " were aiding and assisting at both ; 
 and here there certainly was no change, — for at Brighton they 
 had devoted themselves wholly and solely to do Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough's will and pleasure, and so they did now. Miss Matilda, 
 indeed, was no longer the same animated creature she was then, 
 for she had, ever since the unhappy affair of Mr. Foxcroft, 
 entirely changed her style of dress, and her tone of manners. 
 Instead of pale pink ribbons, and variegated wreaths of roses 
 and geraniums, she now confined herself wholly to white musUn, 
 and the dark, but gracious decoration of la Jfeur des veuves. 
 Her style of conversation, and, indeed, her whole deportment, 
 had undergone a change equally remarkable. She sighed a great 
 deal, and very seldom laughed, and though it is possible that 
 in her tete-a-tete intercourse with her ever-faithful Patty, some 
 traces of her former gay disposition might recur, she had 
 decidedly assumed to the eyes of all others that most interesting 
 character, a disappointed young lady. Her first meeting with 
 Mr. Foxcroft had been a little awkward, but the gentleman, 
 ayant pris sa partie, exhibited so little consciousness that any- 
 thing particular had ever passed between them, that at 
 
PEErAKATIONS FOR THE BALL. 335 
 
 length the two IVIiss Perkinses made up their minds not to 
 care a farthing about it either ; and had it not been that Miss 
 Matilda had a httle prematurely communicated to most of her 
 friends and acquaintance the probability of her soon changing 
 her name, the white dress and lafleur des ceuves might have been 
 altogether omitted. Perhaps, however, it was better that things 
 should be as they were. The wliite gowns, and la flew des 
 veuves, produced together a sort of transition state, from which 
 it was much easier for Miss Matilda to emerge again into the 
 bright light of love and hope, than it would have been had 
 their picturesque and gentle sadness never been assumed. Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's ball appeared extremely likely to restore the 
 fair mourner to rainbow tints and frohc smiles, if anything 
 could ; and in fact, after a few days of doubtful gladness, 
 during which she had listened almost in silence to Patty's 
 joyous anticipations of this day of days, her spirit yielded itself 
 to the deUcious impulse of reviving hope, and upon her young 
 friend's exclaiming, " We'll waltz till five in the morning, 
 Matilda ! see if we won't," the mists of disappointed tenderness 
 dispersed, like a cloud before the sun, and, phoenix-Hke, she rose 
 from the ashes of the flame which had so nearly consumed her. 
 When the master of a house says, " I wish you to invite 
 everybody you know, and that no expense be spared to 
 make the thing go off well," the thing, let it be ball, rout, fete, 
 champetre, or what not, is pretty sure, even in the hands of an 
 ordinairy female, to be a very dashing affair. What, then, was 
 it hkely to become in those of Mrs. O'Donagough? Time 
 presses, and paper wanes, or whole pages might be filled in a 
 very useful and interesting manner, by describing all the superb 
 devices to which that high-spirited and tasteful lady had recourse 
 in order to make her baU outshine all other balls. Mr. 
 O'Donagough witnessed all this, but breathed not a single 
 restraining syllable ; indeed, it was quite evident that his 
 object was to make a great display, and though his mind was 
 a good deal occupied by affairs of a private nature, he from time 
 to time found leisure to exclaim in the most encouraging 
 tone, " Well done, my Barnaby ! " On two points only 
 did he offer any observation that could be construed into inter- 
 ference: the first was concerning the third drawing-room, 
 which he informed her must be kept altogether sacred to the 
 four or five card-tables which by great ingenuity it was made 
 to accommodate : the second was concerning the champagne. 
 " I will take care," he said, " that it shall all be of A proper 
 quality ; but you must remember that a few dozens, which I 
 shall set apart, and mark with a cross, are kept exclusively for 
 the card-room. And you must remember, hkewise, my Barnaby, 
 that Richardson, the waiter, you know, that I have hired occa- 
 sionally for that room, must not be called away for anything 
 
336 THE WIDOW married. 
 
 else ; I will give liim his orders as to the manner in which he is to 
 wait upon us. And now, my dear, I shall trouble you with no 
 further instructions ; attend to these, and I will venture to 
 predict that everything will go well, and perfectly to my satis- 
 faction. I have already told you that the longer the dancing 
 is kept up the better, and with Patty's charming spirits, and 
 yom's, my dear, there will be no diificulty about that." 
 
 " None at all, Donny, dear ; never you fear about that," 
 replied his thrice-happy wife ; " and as for the other things, 
 you may depend upon it I wiU do my best. About Richardson, 
 and the wine, and all that, of course there will be no difficulty, 
 because you will give him your own orders, and he's a fellow 
 that understands at half a word. But about keeping this 
 third room sacred, as you call it, I am afraid that won't be 
 quite so easy, for you know, Donny, that when the other rooms 
 are full, people will be running in here for air, and for the 
 comfort of the sofas in that beautiful recess, and I am sure I do 
 not know how I shall prevent them." 
 
 " Never mind, then, my dear ; I'll manage all that myself. I 
 won't have any candles lighted up in the recess, as there gene- 
 rally are ; and then, as it is such an out-of-the-way corner, no- 
 body will be likely to get to it. I know, however, as well as 
 you do, that the room is sure to be full, particularly at the 
 beginning of the evening ; but that will be of no great conse- 
 quence if you will take care to collect all the loiterers when you 
 go down to supper. If we get too busy to relish further inter- 
 ruption, it will be easy enough to shut the doors while you are 
 at supper, and lock them, too, if it was necessary ; of course, if 
 any observation was made, you would just mention that the 
 gentlemen are at supper." 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough knew his admirable wife too well to think 
 that after this short colloquy there would be any occasion to 
 say more. From that time his happy Barnaby had the delight 
 of proceeding with her preparations unchecked and uninter- 
 rupted by a single observation from him. 
 
 Some speculative people may, perhaps, suspect that, among 
 Mrs. O'Donagough's widely-spread invitations, some might fail 
 of their effect, and that she would have to sustain "many dis- 
 appointments ;" but all such are completely mistaken. The 
 reasons which "all the world," with wonderfully few excep- 
 tions, find for accepting an invitation to a ball known to be 
 given on a large and handsome scale, are more various than "all 
 the world" is itself aware of; whereas the effective objections to 
 it, if the virtue of the fair inviter has never been impugned, and 
 a few people of fasliion are known to be expected, are few indeed. 
 
 As to Mrs. O'Donagough, though by no means of a doubt- 
 ing or timid temper, she herself hardly dared to anticipate 
 the success which attended her. For some excellently good 
 
COURT TOILET. 337 
 
 reason or other, almost everybody she had ventured to invite 
 chose to come, and what with friends, and friends' friends, her 
 list of acceptances far exceeded her hopes. 
 
 So actively and admirably had this highly-gifted lady ma- 
 naged hiir affairs, that when the morning of the 29th arrived, she 
 found herself perfectly at leisure to indulge in a most luxuri- 
 antly long toilet in preparation for her appearance at St. 
 James's. The woman who, as all weE-informed persons know, 
 even at the very outset of her career, had so well understood what 
 the habits of people of fashion required, as to provide herself 
 with a Betty Jacks, was not likely, in this full-blown and pros- 
 perous period of her existence, to want a lady's maid perfectly 
 accomplished in her profession. Mrs. O'Donagough was happy 
 enough to have attached such a one to her service, and by half- 
 past eleven o'clock the two dear good Miss Perkinses, and Mrs. 
 Bmnpford (the Abigail) stood beside the bed, the sofa, and the 
 chairs of Mrs. O'Donagough's apartment, very nearly " in act to " 
 worship the gorgeous paraphernalia thereupon displayed. 
 
 Fortunately, the bedroom of Patty was close beside, or 
 rather close behind, that of her mamma, and thus the adoration, 
 the sweet commotion, and, in a word, the whole operation of 
 dressing, went on in the two rooms as if they had been but one. 
 
 To any person who loved the study of natural history, it 
 would have been pleasing to see how prettily the generic fea- 
 tures of the mother and her offspring displayed themselves. 
 There was precisely the same movement of the different 
 muscles, as the different causes of activity presented them- 
 selves. The nerves, and, indeed, each distinctive faculty, 
 seemed moved by the self-same spring ; and one might, almost, 
 have persuaded one's self that the existences of mother and child 
 were one, so perfect was the 
 
 Union in partition 
 which they exhibited. 
 
 By degrees, however, the absorbing interests of each sepa- 
 rate mirror compelled them to cease the deUcious intercourse 
 between room and room, with which the business had opened. 
 Miss Louisa became fixed where she could gaze at and applaud 
 Mrs. O'Donagough; Miss Matilda became fixed where she could 
 gaze at and applaud Patty ; while the almost omnipresent Bump- 
 ford ghded from room to room, with rapture on her lips' and 
 pins between her teeth, tiU, one by one, every costly article of 
 the multitudinous toilet was adjusted. 
 
 " Now, ma'am," said the ladies' maid, " I do think that every- 
 thing is quite perfect. And, to be sure, I never did, in aU my 
 experience, see any ladies look so glorious in coTirt-dresses as 
 you and Miss Patty. Isn't it true, ladies?" she continued, 
 turning to the two faithful Miss Perkinses, who had never per- 
 mitted an eye to wander during the whole process, " isn't it 
 
338 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 true? Did you ever see anything so noble as my mistress? 
 What a presence ! I shall wonder if the Queen, and all the lords 
 and ladies, don't pay particular attention to her. Plow the 
 plume sits, ma'am, don't it? And then the spread of the petti- 
 coat, showing off so beautiful the embroidery and the bunches of 
 flowers ! I would not live with a lady as didn't go to com't, if 
 they would double my wages." 
 
 "I wish, Bumpford, you would just see if you can't tighten 
 my body the least bit in the world ; I look rather larger than. I 
 ought to do, don't I, Matilda, about the small of the waist ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Patty, you are perfect ! " exclaimed her enthusiastic 
 friend, with hands clasped, and shoulders elevated, as " others 
 use, who sport with " the plastic feehngs of young ladies under 
 similar circumstances. 
 
 "Very weU, then,'' returned Patty quietly, and for the 
 moment, at least, perfectly satisfied — " very weU, then. Bump- 
 ford ; perhaps you had better let well alone. Of course I don't 
 want to be pinched any more, if I can help it — I know that I 
 fcan hardly draw my breath as it is." 
 
 " Nonsense, Patty ! " exclaimed Mrs. O'Donagough, indig- 
 nantly ; " for mercy's sake, don't speak so hke a vulgar house- 
 maid. How do other ladies draw their breath, I should hke to 
 know?" 
 
 " Don't you talk, mamma ; I am sure it is quite impossible 
 you can be tight-laced, such an enormous size as you are." 
 
 "Oh ! my dear Miss Patty ! how can you say such a word?" 
 cried Miss Perkins ; " there is something so noble in your 
 mamma's look, that I am sure it would be all the pities in the 
 world to alter it." 
 
 " Lord bless me, Louisa ! you need not fly out so," responded 
 Patty; "who told you that I wanted to alter anything? You 
 had much better mind your own busiuess, and not try to set 
 mamma against me." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Patty," said Mrs. O'Donagough, too 
 happy to be angry at anything ; " you never looked so well in 
 your life. I should hke nothing better than just to see Miss 
 Ehzabeth Hubert stand side by side with you, to-day ; she is no 
 more to be compared to Patty, than the sun to the moon — ^is she ? " 
 
 The good humour of Patty thus judicioiisly restored, the 
 four ladies descended to the drawing-room, where the thoughtful 
 Mrs. O'Donagough had ordered biscuit and wine to be placed, 
 to beguile the few last moments before the clock announced that 
 they might set out for the dwelling of Lady Susan. 
 
 . Like aU other ladies who know what they are about, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough and her daughter had been refreshed by a basin 
 of soup during the progress of their dressing ; nevertheless they 
 both felt " thankful," as Mrs. O'Donagough expressed it, " for 
 a good glass of wine." And a good, or at any rate, a full glass 
 
CniTICISM OP PERSONAL APrEAEANCB. 339 
 
 of wine she took, and another after it, as she remembered how 
 overpowering it must be to find one's self face to face with the 
 Queen ; and then, as she stood with the open decanter in her 
 liberal hand, urging the spinster sisters to take another glass, 
 she once more replenished her own for the sake of saying, with 
 becoming unction, " WeU, Patty ! here is good luck to us ! " 
 
 The few last moments of all were given to admiration of the 
 drawing-rooms, prepared as they were for the festivities of the 
 evening, and then the mother, drawing herself up before one 
 pier-glass, and the daughter before the other, they awaited, with 
 beating hearts, and radiant eyes, the arrival of their equipage. 
 
 " Here it comes ! mercy on me ! I almost wish it was over ! 
 Just shake out my train once more, Bumpford : come along, 
 Patty. Take care of yourselves, girls ! I am glad we settled 
 that you should stay all day, and dress here, for I know I shall be 
 dying when I come back to tell you all about it. Now then ! " 
 
 iiid in another minute, the mother and daughter, placed 
 .opposite to each other, that each might gaze upon each, were on 
 their way to Lady Susan Deerwell's. The old lady made her- 
 self to be waited for so long, that Mrs. O'Donagough's wrath 
 out-blazed her rouge, and, together with her three glasses of 
 wine, caused a redness of the nose, that by no means tended to 
 tranquiUise the iiorid tone of her general appearance. At length 
 the tall pale figure of Lady Susan, perfectly weU-dressed, but 
 having discarded whatever needless decoration Madame Boneton 
 had bestowed upon her, entered the carriage, offering so remark- 
 able a -contrast to the two figures already in possession of it, that 
 each of the three became aware of it. Their silent observations 
 ran thus — 
 
 " What a quaker-hke object ! " thought Mrs. O'Donagough. 
 " It is well Patty and I have some style about us, or the whole 
 party would be passed over as horrid hum-drums." 
 
 " Oh ! the hideous old stick ! " thought Miss Patty ; " but 
 she is no bad contrast, though, to such a girl as me." 
 
 " Mercy on me ! how shall I ever stand this ! " thought the 
 noble spinster. " I have the greatest mind in the world not to 
 go now." 
 
 But, happUy for the debutantes, her ladyship recoUeoted that 
 if she did not go, she should not only have to pay for her own 
 dress, but be obliged to give up the high play in which her soul 
 delighted, or at least to abandon one of the most commodious 
 scenes for it that she had ever enjoyed. So she looked at her 
 two companions and smiled, without uttering a single word of 
 salutation, good, bad, or indifferent. 
 
 " Good morning, dearest Lady Susan ! " said Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough, perfectly sure that her ladyship's silence proceeded from 
 envy and mortification at the splendid appearance of herself and 
 her daughter ; " I hope we have not hurried you? " 
 
 v2 
 
340 THE WIDOW MAKRIED. 
 
 " I wish we had settled to go an hour earlier," replied the 
 old lady, perusing the figures of her companions from top to toe ; 
 " however, I flatter myself the crowd will be very great." 
 
 This was literally thinking aloud, and might have puzzled 
 any one who had listened to it, but that Mrs. O'Donagough did 
 not, having caught sight of some passing plumes almost as 
 umbrageous as her own, and becoming from that moment too 
 intent upon peeping into every carriage passed, or passing, to 
 have any distinct consciousness of what was said in her own. 
 
 The crowd at St. James's was as great as her Jadyship could 
 possibly desire, and it was not without difficulty that the three 
 ladies mg,de their way up stairs, and into the presence-chamber. 
 By the time they had achieved this, the senses of Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough were so completely bewildered, that she knew not what 
 was said to her, which way to turn, or what to do. ' On reaching 
 the top of the stairs, her first movement was to seize upon the 
 arm of Lady Susan, but this did not answer, for the wily old 
 lady felt that if she submitted to this, the crowd in which she 
 was glorying would have availed her nothing, and, therefore, 
 without the slightest ceremony she shook off the weighty arm 
 which had seized her, and saying, " Take hold of your daughter's 
 arm, Mrs. O'Donagough, and walk on," she managed to glide 
 forward alone, and perform the duty she had undertaken with 
 as little identification of herself with her protegees, as it was 
 well possible to imagine. 
 
 But if Lady Susan DeerweU had reason to rejoice in the 
 crowd, Mrs. O'Donagough and her daughter had stiU more ; for_ 
 so completely had they, both lost aU idea of what they ought to 
 do, and where they ought to go, that but for the impulse from 
 behind, and the occasional repetition of that useful warning, 
 " Go on — go on," it is probable that they would have performed 
 some very extraordinary evolutions indeed. 
 
 As it was, however, they reached the royal lady in safety, 
 but so much before they expected it, that Mrs. O'Donagough 
 started with such violence as nearly to extinguish the eyes of 
 the unfortunate individual against whom she retreated. 
 Having, however, recovered her equilibrium and her conscious- 
 ness, she began to make the most violent desire to pause and look 
 about her a httle ; and nothing short of the gentle violence 
 applied to her huge elbow could have induced her to pass on. 
 
 Finding that no choice was left her, she perforce followed 
 the Une that was moving off, and having, by a magnificent 
 tossing round of her lofty head, ascertained that Patty followed, 
 soon reached a point where she found herself at liberty to 
 breathe, look about her, and make herself as conspicuous as 
 possible. Now it was that she found the pleasure which she 
 liad promised herself not altogether imaginary. Till this 
 delightful moment, she had been really hurried on in a manner 
 
.#^/^?^x.^^-<?^ .^.v/'M/g^ 
 
 C^-^'U'- ,c-t^.iX'C?- a 
 
MEs. o'donagough at cotjkt. 341 
 
 which had made her almost forget her own magnificence, her 
 daughter's beauty, and the delight of exhibiting both in such a 
 presence. But now she awakened again to a deUcious con- 
 sciousness of it all, and every inch of her seemed to become 
 instinct with lofty thoughts, and dignified dehght. 
 
 '_' Where is Lady Susan, my dear ? " she demanded of her 
 staring daughter, in a tone considerably more sonorous than was 
 usually heard from the spot where she stood ; "I can see her 
 nowhere ! We must stay here, my love, and wait for her." 
 
 The blooming Patty, nothing loath, drew up by the side of 
 her mamma, and the two ladies stood together in the most 
 conspicuous place they could contrive to occupy, talking in 
 whispers of aU around them, and bringing into action such a 
 variety of 
 
 Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 
 as speedily made them the object to whicli every eye within 
 reach was directed. 
 
 Not long after they had taken possession of this station, a 
 group approached from the presence-chamber, which, for a 
 moment at least, drew ^ all eyes from Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 geranium velvet train, and flower-and-fringe-bedeoked white 
 satin petticoat, nay, even from Patty's pink, and silver, her 
 tassels, and her trumpery, >her rouge, and her ringlets, to 
 fix themselves on the very daintiest vision that ever seemed to 
 come direct from Paradise to grace the circle of a mortal's court. 
 
 This was a young lady from whose beauteous eyes seventeen 
 summers had scarce sufficed to banish the shy, bright, gazelle- 
 like glance of childhood. There was a look of innocent and 
 dehcate timidity in her sweet face that, had need been, would 
 have called around her a body-guard of all the preux chevaliers 
 within reach, and yet there was so much of easy grace in every 
 movement of her tall sHght person, that one dared not apply 
 the epithet of shy to her (though one might to her eyes), lest it 
 should do her the vUe wrong of suggesting an idea of awkward- 
 ness. Her dress, train and all, was of white satin, the corsage 
 being decorated only with pearls, and resembUng in form to that 
 most historiqiie of fashions in which Vandyke dehghted to paint 
 his fair and noble ladies. A narrow bandeau of pearls sufficed 
 to secure the feathers that gracefully drooped over her dark and 
 luxuriant hair, which was parted without ringlets, and gathered 
 into a rich Grecian knot behind. 
 
 Had this beautiful girl been seen surrounded by none but 
 graces and nymphs, she would have shone among them like a 
 planet among the lesser stars, and might have challenged not 
 only the court of St. James's, but that of Windsor too, with all 
 its beauties, dead as well as living, without any danger of 
 meeting a rival ; but there was something singularly striking 
 in the contrast offered by her peculiarly refined appearance and 
 
342 THE ■WIDOW MARRIED, 
 
 tliat of poor Patty, who chanced at the moment of hef appear- 
 ance to be in possession of all eyes, excepting, indeed, those 
 ■which ■were fixed by preference on her mamma. There was a 
 smile on more faces than one, as she advanced, among those 
 who love to mark whimsical contrarieties ; but this smile changed 
 to a look of unmixed astonishment when Mrs. O'Donagough 
 was seen to stretch forth her enormous arm, and seize upon the 
 hand of the delicate creature who was winning her way onward 
 through the yielding crowd. 
 
 Every one, of necessity, left the presence-chamber in single 
 file ; and it was only when thus seized upon that Elizabeth 
 Hubert, for she it was who was thus unluckily encountered, 
 turned round her head to look for her mother. Mrs. Hubert 
 was close behind, and despite the equable composure of mind 
 which she usually displayed, she now coloured deeply, and 
 stepped forward to take the arm of her young daughter, with a 
 sort of maternal instinct, not altogether unlike what a dainty 
 doe might ha^vfe felt, on seeing her pretty fawn run down by a 
 huge elephant. 
 
 " Well ! my dear Agnes! if tliis isn't luck ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 O'Donagough, releasing the daughter while she made a step in 
 advance to clutch the mother. " I am monstrous glad to see 
 you, for we have absolutely lost Lady Susan. But I don't 
 mind it at all now that we have met you, for we can all go on 
 together, and then the cousins can look at each other a little, you 
 know ; that's what girls love. But what made you dress her so 
 very plain, my dear ? I suppose you think it suits her ; every- 
 thing depends upon style, certainly. Patty looks well, don't she ? " 
 
 While this was uttered, the imprisoned Mrs. Plubert walked 
 onwards without raising her eyes from the ground, and her 
 friends must forgive her if, for once in her life, the quiet, unpre- 
 tending self-possession of her character gave way before the 
 nervous agitation produced by tliis encounter. Yet in the midst 
 of it she felt glad, rather than sorry, that General Hubert was 
 not with them ; and though really frightened by the loud tone of 
 her aunt's terrible laiigh, which she well knew must be bringing 
 all eyes upon them, she struggled to sustain such an appearance 
 of composure under the infliction, as should prevent her from 
 herself becoming a part of the comedy they looked upon. But 
 there was one who, notwithstanding all her efforts to look tran- 
 quil, saw that she was suffering, and thereupon, with more zeal 
 than discretion perhaps, pressed forward to rescue her and her 
 blushing daughter from their painful companionship. 
 
 " Let Sir Henry inquire for the carriage, mamma ! " said 
 Elizabeth, on seeing him approach, and quite forgetting aU she 
 had been meditating upon for the last three weeks. Without 
 speaking a word to either party, Sir Henry Seymour wedged 
 mmself rather unceremoniously between Mrs. Hubert and her 
 
A MAGICAI, MONOSYLLABLE. 343 
 
 daughter, silently offering an arm to each, which was as silently- 
 accepted. But JV'Irs. 0'l)onagough was not to be so dismissed. 
 Keeping fast hold of Agues, notwithstanding the difiioulties 
 offered by the presence of the crowd to an arrangement which 
 placed four persons in a row, she put her other arm behind her, 
 and pulling Patty, who was following closely at her heels, into 
 a situation favourable to the manoeuvre, she contrived by a 
 sudden jerk to withdraw Mrs. Hubart's arm from that of Sir 
 Henry, saying at the same time, " Give yom" other arm to Patty 
 — there's a good fellow ; I'll take care of my niece, if you'll look 
 to the girls. Sir Henry." 
 
 For a moment the young man forgot his secret, and aD. the 
 fears connected with it. " Pray take my arm, Mrs. Hubert," 
 he said, without noticing the request of Mrs. O'Donagough, or 
 appearing either to see or feel Patty, whose plumes were in his 
 face — ^but this imprudence was bitterly repented when his indig- 
 nant fellow- voyager pronounced the monosyllable " Jack ? " in 
 an accent which he perfectly understood, though nobody else 
 did. The effect was magical ; Mrs. Plubert's arm was instantly 
 resigned, and his elbow presented to Patty instead. " WiU you 
 take my arm. Miss O'Donagough ! " he said, in a tone so quiet 
 and subdued, that Ehzabeth, who had no notion that the word 
 Mrs. O'Donagough ejaculated hadany reference to him, instantly 
 fancied that tenderness towards Patty occasioned this softened 
 tone, and that, although he might probably not have wished to 
 distinguish his Jinacee by any public attention, he could not 
 resist the temptation thus thrown in his way. This confirmation 
 of Lord Mucklebury's intelligence caused her to shudder from 
 head to foot, a very natural consequence of which was, that she 
 withdrew her arm from that of the tortured young man, and 
 making a sudden movement forward, urged her way through 
 the crowd alone. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mrs. O'Donagough ! " said Agnes, 
 forcibly withdrawing her imprisoned arm ; " but I must beg you 
 to let me follow Elizabeth." 
 
 " Oh ! by all means, my dear ; of course, I shall see you 
 to-night." 
 
 These last words, uttered very nearly in Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 loudest key, were at least satisfactorily heard by those around 
 though, if heard, they were unheeded by her to whom they 
 were addressed ; for too well did Mrs. Hubert comprehend the 
 feeling which had caused her daughter to drop the arm of Sir 
 Henry ; and too anxious was she to be with her, to leave any 
 faculties at leisure wherewith to listen to her terrible aunt. 
 
 As Agnes retreated, Mrs. O'Donagough passed behind Patty 
 and Sir Henry, and, possessing herself sanS ceremonie of the 
 arm which poor Elizabeth had quitted, marched him forward 
 in a position as completely contrasted to that which he had 
 
344 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 held a few minutes before as it is possible to imagine — Mrs. 
 Hubert and Elizabeth being upon his arms in the first case, and 
 Mrs. O'Douagough and Patty in the second. 
 
 Having thus hy force of arms compelled the unfortunate 
 Sir Henry Seymour to remain exposed, in this conspicuous 
 condition, to the eyes of half his acquaintance for a longer 
 space than any party ever lingered in the same purlieus before, 
 Mrs. O'Donagough at length prepared to descend the stairs, 
 and, having reached the door of exit, called aloud in her own 
 strong voice for Mrs. O'Donagough's carriage and servants, 
 while from time to time she requested the still firmly-held Sir 
 Henry to call for them also. But though these calls were ably 
 seconded by the officials around, they were all in vain ; no 
 servants, no carriage could be found. For the first five or 
 perhaps ten minutes, Mrs. O'Donagough was not displeased 
 with the bustle and the fuss thus occasioned, because she was 
 herself the cause of it ; but, by degrees, as the fact became 
 more and more evident that there really was no carriage at 
 all in waiting for her, she ceased to swell from dignity, though 
 nature appeared to be carrying on the same operation within 
 her through the agency of rage. As equipage after equipage 
 drew up for others, while she remained waiting in this desolate 
 condition, the irritation of her feehngs caused her repeatedly to 
 run forth almost under the horses' heels, in order to ascertain 
 by ocular demonstration whether it were, indeed, possible that 
 a lady possessing a carriage of her own, vrith horses, coachman, 
 and footman to boot, could possibly be thus abandoned. These 
 repeated sorties had, for the company present, servants included, 
 the twofold advantage — of displaying in the broad hght of day 
 her own magnificent figure to the gaze of all, and of rendering 
 Sir Henry's tete-a-tete with her daughter almost as remarkable 
 as she could have herself desired. 
 
 The poor young man was certainly at his wits' end, and 
 perhaps a little further, for he really felt distracted by the 
 manifold misfortunes which had that morning fallen upon him, 
 and which were not a httle aggravated by seeing Sir Edward 
 Stephenson pass by during one of Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 little out-of-door excursions and stare at him and Patty, as 
 they stood tete-a-tete and arm-in-arm together in a corner, 
 with a degree of astonishment that seemed to deprive him of 
 the power of speaking, for he passed on without addressing 
 him. 
 
 At length, however, after every carriage apd every soul 
 belonging to them had been driven away, the long-lost equi- 
 page made its appearance ; and when Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 vociferous indignation permitted the voices of her servants to 
 be heard, she learnt that they had been employed in the service 
 of Lady Susan Deerwell, who had appeared at the door, sum- 
 
PROSPECTIVE KEVENGK. 345 
 
 moned them to attend her, and then ordered them to take her 
 home to Green-street. 
 
 " Well ! that is so like my poor dear Lady Susan ! " cried 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, still trembling with rage ; " how I will 
 scold her for it ! Get in, Patty ! Shall I set you down any- 
 where, Sir Henry ? " 
 
 "No, I thank you, ma'am," replied the irritated young 
 man, with what seemed to be his last possible effort at con- 
 cealment of the feelings which had tortured him, and then, 
 slightly touching his hat, he made way for the servant to close 
 the carriage-door, and was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 " Ain't I glad she will have her dress to pay for! " exclaimed 
 Mrs. O'Donagough to Patty as the carriage drove off. 
 
 " And ain't I glad we plagued that conceited Sir Jack as 
 we did ! " responded her hvely daughter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXn. 
 A LAEGE dinner-party assembled at General Hubert's after the 
 drawing-room, chiefly consisting of famUy connections, most of 
 whom had that morning paid their compliments at St. James's, 
 and all of whom were amongst the guests invited to Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's ball at night. 
 
 There had been too much vexation endured by Mrs. Hubert 
 and her daughter in the morning, for either of them willingly 
 to have discussed the cause of it, and if their feelings only had 
 been consulted, the names of Mrs. and Miss O'Donagough 
 would most assuredly never have been mentioned. But Sir 
 Edward Stephenson, who knew nothing of all this, no sooner 
 perceived that the ice-plates were all removed, the grapes duly 
 circulated, and the door closed upon the last of the attendants, 
 than he said, addressing himself to Mrs. Hubert, at whose right 
 hand he was seated, " I have been excessively vexed to-day, my 
 dear Agnes ! " 
 
 " Indeed? I am very sorry to hear it," she repUed ; " may 
 I ask the cause of your vexation. Sir Edward ? " 
 
 " Yes, you may, and I will teU it you frankly. That boy 
 Seymour, whom, notwithstanding all our quarrels, I love as if 
 he were my own son, is most decidedly acting either hke a fool 
 or a knave ; I cannot tell you half the disappointment and 
 vexation this causes me. I thought him such a noble-hearted 
 fellow, and gave him credit for so intelligent and so refined a 
 mind, that what I have seen to-day has surprised, as much as 
 it has pained me." 
 
 " What is that you are saying, Edward, vrith so very grave a 
 face ? " said General Hubert ; " I think I heard something about 
 surprise and pain. Is the communication a secret between you and 
 Agnes ? I hope nothing has happened seriously to vex you ? " 
 
346 THE WIDOW MA.KEIED. 
 
 " Yes, but there has, Hubert,'' replied Sir Edward, in an 
 accent that showed he \^as very much in earnest ; " but the 
 cause of my vexation is very far from being a secret now, and 
 even if it were, there is no sort of probability that it should long 
 continue so. There is not one of us, I beheve, who has not the 
 honour of knowing Mrs. and Miss O'Donagough, nor is there 
 one who does not know something, more or less, of my late 
 ward. Sir Henry Seymour ; therefore, good friends, you are all 
 fully competent to judge of the degree of pleasure with which I 
 should see Sir Henry bestow himself and Ms noble fortune on 
 the young lady I have just mentioned." 
 
 " Nonsense, Sir Edward ! " exclaimed the general, indig- 
 nantly ; " I too have heard this inconceivably silly report, but I 
 really never expected that I should hear it repeated by you." 
 
 " Nor would you, Hubert, had I not this day seen what too 
 strongly confirms it, to leave me the same comfortable convic- 
 tion of its falsehood which I enjoyed this morning. It was 
 Mucklebury who first told me that the infatuated boy had engaged 
 himself to that tremendous-looking Miss O'Donagough, whose 
 very beauty is revolting, and wliom I should have thought 
 completely formed to disgust Seymour, instead of captivating 
 him ; for which reason I ventured rather cavaherly to assure 
 his lordship that he was mistaken, and even when he gravely 
 repeated that he knew the fact from the very best authority, I 
 still wholly disbelieved it. But you know what the adage says 
 on the article of seeing. It is not on the testimony of Lord 
 Mucklebury, or that of any lord or lady breathing, that I would 
 have believed Henry Seymour capable, of such preposterous 
 folly ; but when I beheld him this morning marching through 
 the crowd at St. James's, with the inconceivable mother on one 
 arm, and the indescribable daughter on the other, I knew not 
 what to tliink. For must it not be some feeling greatly ap- 
 proaching madness, which could induce such a man as Sir Henry 
 Seymour to make such an exhibition of himself? " 
 
 " It was doubtless extremely simple, and extremely civil of 
 liim," replied General Hubert, " but it surely is hardly sufficient 
 to justify your behef that he is going to marry the young lady." 
 
 " But that is not the worst of it. Where he had been taking 
 them, or what he had been doing with them. Heaven knows ; 
 but it was, I should think, nearly an hour after I had seen the 
 trio pass in the manner I have described, that I at last got down 
 stairs, after having been detained by meeting an old acquaintance 
 from Berlin, whom I had not seen for years, and there, at the 
 bottom of the staircase, in a corner as much as possible out of 
 sight, I found Sir Henry and his fair young friend tete-a-tete, 
 long after the great majority of the company had driven off. 
 The girl, too, was hanging on his arm in a sort of familiar way 
 that I cannot bear to think of, because it convinces me that 
 
EQUIVOCAX CONDUCT. 847 
 
 I 
 
 even if he be not fool enough to think of marrying her, he lias 
 been wioked enough to make her beheve he does." 
 
 " And the difference between the two is hardly worth dis- 
 cussion," said Mrs. Hubert, suddenly rising and giving Lady 
 Stephenson the mystical glance which makes it law that all the 
 ladies present should instantly rise too. 
 
 General Hubert looked surprised at this unusually early 
 retreat. " Are you going to leave us already, Agnes ? " said he. 
 
 " Yes we are, general, by your good leave," she replied. 
 " The morning has been a fatiguing one for Elizabeth, and I 
 really dare not propose leaving her at home this evening, there- 
 fore I mean to deposit her upon a sofa till it is neqessary to 
 attend Mrs. O'Donagough's festivities." 
 
 Whether General Hubert's rapid glance towards his daugh- 
 ter, when these words were spoken, threw any light upon this 
 movement, might have been doubtful to all but his wife ; but 
 she perfectly well understood the feehng that led him without 
 any further questionings to open the door for them, and which 
 caused him, as she passed, to snatch her hand, and wring it with 
 strong emotion. Yet Agnes had never, even to him, betrayed 
 her suspicions respecting the feehngs of Elizabeth's young heart 
 towards Sir Henry Seymour, nor did he guess them now to their 
 full extent. But he thought he had seen very decided proofs of 
 admiration on the part of the young man towards his daughter ; 
 and though he wished a year or two might elapse, and give them 
 time to know each other, before any thought of marriage was 
 alluded to, he had been for some time watching every trait in 
 his character with deep interest, and had begun to contemplate 
 the idea of a near and dear connection with him as an event that 
 he should not only approve, but very cordially rejoice in. 
 
 Most distasteful, therefore, was the rumour, which had 
 reached him from more than one quarter, of Sir Henry 
 Seymour's devotion to Miss O'Donagough, and steadfastly did 
 he believe the thing to be impossible, till he saw the effect 
 which the repetition of it produced on Ms wife. But whatever 
 feeUngs of vexation and displeasure it might have caused the 
 general to hear such news confirmed, its effect on his wife was 
 much more painful still. She knew, though he did not, that 
 her EUzabeth was no longer " fancy free," and though the con- 
 viction of this came too kte for any caution on her part to do 
 much good, her anxiety on the subject was lessened, if not 
 altogether removed, by the conviction that the young man was 
 devotedly attached to her, and that he was one to whom she 
 could intrust the happiness of her heart's dearest treasure with 
 confidence. Such being the case, it must be superfluous to 
 state that the report of Sir Henry's attachment to her cousin 
 had been listened to with a very anxious mixture of fear and 
 incredulity ; but, improbable as it appeared to her, so many 
 
S48 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 circumstances had occurred to confirm it, tha,t, when she left 
 the dinner-table, the incredulity had pretty nearly vanished, 
 ■while the fear was strengthened almost into certainty. Had it 
 not been, however, for CaroKne's strange conduct, and sub- 
 sequent agitation when the subject was named, Mrs. Hubert 
 would still have been incKned to doubt not only the truth of all 
 she had heard, but also the testimony of Sir Edward's eyes. 
 But her imagination could suggest no other interpretation of 
 Miss Seymour's emotion than that her heart revolted from the 
 connection her brother was about to form, though her devoted 
 love for him led her to assume a degree of civility towards the 
 young lady, which was altogether foreign to her feelings. 
 During the few days that the poor girl remained in Berkeley- 
 square, after the visit of Mrs. O'Donagough and her daughter, 
 she had appeared so dreadfully embarrassed whenever they were 
 spoken of, that the subject had been dropped by Mrs. Hubert 
 from mere pity ; and now that she was gone to visit friends at 
 some distance from London, tjhe recoUeotion of aU she had said 
 and all that she seemed ashamed to say, did more to strengthen 
 the report than anything she could have done or said, had she 
 remained with them. 
 
 On reaching the hall, Elizabeth took a side candle from the 
 slab, and proceeded with it to her own room ; and thither, in a 
 few minutes afterwards, her mother followed. 
 
 " You are ill, my dearest child ! " said Mrs. Hubert, on 
 perceiving her sitting pale and motionless, while large tears 
 were sadly coursing each other down her cheeks ; " my darling 
 Elizabeth ! tell me what is passing in your mind ! 'Trust me, 
 sweet love ! you wiU feel the better for it." 
 
 " Mamma ! how can I tell you what I am unable to explain 
 even to myself? I would not wish to have a secret from you. 
 If I have been weak and foolish, I would rather you knew it 
 than not, dearest mother ! but I cannot tell how it has all come 
 about. I did not think that I could have been — no, and I do 
 not think so now — so very weak, so very foolish, so everything 
 that I should most dishke to be, as to fancy myself in love, 
 and that, too, with a person who was loving another all the 
 time ! Oh ! mother, your daughter ought not to be so vile as 
 that." 
 
 " The vileness does not rest with you, my child," replied 
 Mrs. Hubert, with strong emotion. " You believed yourself 
 beloved, and 'had reason to beheve it. But this is a theme on 
 which I feel that I must never dare to speak. With you, 
 Elizabeth, the impression will be soon effaced, believe me it wiU; 
 you shake your head, but you cannot shake my belief, dearest : 
 I speak with perfect confidence. If you have loved this man, 
 it was because he appeared to you, as he did to me, worthy of 
 your love. Now we find that he is not so, your feelings towards 
 
A QtTESTIOK OP LOVE DEBATED. 349 
 
 him will change, and that so completely, as to make you doubt 
 that you ever entertained them." 
 
 " That may be. But when shall I forget, mamma, that my 
 forward vanity mistook what I suppose was friendship for his 
 sister's friend, for love ? It is not my love for him, but my 
 contempt for myself, that will make me miserable." 
 
 "You will see this matter in a different hght a little while 
 hence, Ehzabeth ; and that different light will be the true one. 
 But as yet this is perhaps impossible, and I wiU not harass your 
 spirits now by disputing about it. Perhaps, dearest, it wiU 
 be best that you should not go to this detestable ball to-night? 
 There are enough of us assembled here, all desperately bent upon 
 the enterprise, to satisfy the claims of relationship, were she ten 
 times our aunt ; indeed, it will be best that you should remaia 
 quietly at home." 
 
 " It would be a great deal best for my pleasure, mamma ; but, 
 unless you insist upon my staying at home, I had rather go." 
 
 " There may be much to try your spirits, my dear child, and 
 it is quite clear they are not very strong to-night. Neither you 
 nor I should choose that anything you may chance to feel 
 should be suspected." 
 
 " Trust me," said Elizabeth, beseechingly. 
 
 " I will trust you, my sweet girl ! you shall go or stay, just 
 as you hke best at the moment ; there is no occasion to decide 
 about it yet. If I were you, dearest, I would lie down. Claridge 
 can easily arrange your hair again." 
 
 Elizabeth silently nodded her assent, and, after fondly kissing 
 her pale cheek, her mother left her. 
 
 On returning to the drawing-room, Mrs. Hubert found the 
 whole party, consisting of Lady Stephenson, and her sister-in- 
 law Nora, Mrs. Henderson, Elizabeth Peters, and two Miss 
 Nivetts, whom, by some of her skilful manceuvrings, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough had contrived to inscribe on her visiting Ust, in 
 high, and almost loud debate, concerning the possibihty of Sir 
 Henry Seymour's having fallen in love with Miss O'Donagough. 
 
 Lady Stephenson gave it as her opinion that all things were 
 possible, but that the thing under discussion was not probable. 
 
 Mrs. Henderson observed that, after the scene she had wit- 
 nessed between Miss Seymour and the O'Donagough ladies, she 
 could entertain no doubt whatever of the truth of the report 
 they had heard, inasmuch as the young lady's conduct was per- 
 fectly natural upon that theory, and perfectly unintelligible 
 upon every other. 
 
 Miss Peters declared that, though Mrs. O'Donagough was her 
 aunt by marriage, she must say that she thought her more likely 
 than any one she ever knew to take in a young man, and make 
 him marry her daughter, whether he would or no. 
 
 The two Miss Nivetts both followed on the same side, first 
 
350 THE "WIDOW MAREIED. 
 
 one, and then the other, remarking that nothing occurred 
 so constantly as instances of men being drawn in to marry odious, 
 disagreeable women, and exactly the very sort of people they 
 most disliked, by mere art and good management ; and that 
 ■was the reason, to their certain knowledge, why so many ad- 
 mirable young women remained single, just because they would 
 not condescend to do the same sort of things themselves. As both 
 these young ladies were considerably past thirty, their judgment 
 had naturally much weight ; but, notwithstanding this, and all 
 that had preceded it, Mrs. Stephenson scrupled not to raise her 
 silver voice in the glorious minority of one, and to proclaim her 
 positive and complete conviction that, either from knavery and 
 mischief, or from fun and foolery, the report was altogether an 
 invention, having no more foundation in truth than the cele- 
 brated error which in ages past had assigned to our humble 
 earth the honoured place of centre to the solar system. 
 
 On the appearance of Mrs. Hubert, her opinion was eagerly 
 called for by the whole party ; but her answer was more oracu- 
 lar than satisfactory, being summed up in that very safe formula, 
 " Time will show." 
 
 An hour or two, followed, which were wiled away by coffee 
 and criticism. The court circle, as a matter of course, passed 
 under a general review, and then, for the gratification of Mrs. 
 Henderson and her sister, the only ladies present who had not 
 been that day at St. James's, Mrs. Stephenson entered upon a 
 very graphic description of the dress and appearance of Mrs. 
 O'Donagough and her daughter, observing that as all present 
 were either her relations, or her relation's relations, there could 
 be no sort of objection to her speaking with unaffected truth of 
 the general effect produced by them upon all beholders. By this 
 time the gentlemen had joined the party, aiid many a burst 
 of irresistible laughter from Frederic Stephenson attested his 
 continued enjoyment of his pretty wife's powers of persiflage, 
 though he ceased not to protest all the time that he did.not at 
 all approve quizzing the O'Donagoughs, that O'Donagough 
 himself was a capital good fellow, and that he meant to invite 
 them all to dinner, to meet Seymour, very soon. 
 
 At length the clock struck twelve. 
 
 " The carriages have been waiting a long time, Agnes," said 
 the general, " and, if we intend to go at all, I think we must go 
 now." 
 
 The whole party declared themselves to be perfectly ready, 
 but where was Ehzabeth ? 
 
 " Wait for us one moment 1 " said Mrs. Hubert, as she left 
 the room to inquire how her daughter had decided. It was 
 with a very gentle hand that Agnes opened the bedroom door, 
 for she was not without hopes that she should find her child 
 asleep. " Had she decided upon going," thought she, " we 
 
MRS. O'dONAGOUGH VOID OP VANITY. 351 
 
 should hare seen lier in the drawing-room ere this." But she 
 ■was mistaken. Elizabeth was seated, fully prepared for the ball, 
 her dress no otherwise differing from that of the morning than by 
 the removal of the train and plume. She was reading, and her 
 beautiful features showed no traces of their recent emotion. 
 
 " You mean to go, then, my dear love ?" said her mother. 
 
 "Yes, mamma! I am quite ready," she replied ; and quickly 
 wrapping her shawl about her, she set forth upon an expedition 
 which any one, who could have known what was passing in her 
 heart, must have allowed required more courage than the 
 mounting many a " deadly breach" has done. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXin. 
 
 Though, for some cause, which it is reasonable to suppose was 
 originated by the retiring timidity of his nature, Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough did not himself go to coiirt, he was nevertheless exceed- 
 ingly anxious to receive a full and true description of all that 
 had befallen his lady and their daughter there, and accordingly 
 was in waiting, together with the Misses Perkins, to receive 
 them on their return. " Where the deuce have you been stay- 
 ing all this time ? " demanded Mr. O'Donagough the instant his 
 wife's portly person was within the library door. For in that 
 sanctum, the oidy spot uninvaded by preparations for the ball, 
 were the party to dme, and, with the exception of the dear inter- 
 val of dressing, recreate themselves tUl their company arrived. 
 
 " What in the world have you been about ? " reiterated Mr. 
 O'Donagough. 
 
 •' Wny, part of the time, my dear, we have been in the 
 presence oft Her Most Gracious Majesty, by whom we were 
 received in the most flattering manner possible. I am sure I 
 quite longed to stay and talk to her, she looked so very obliging. 
 Well, and part of the time we were with all the rest of the fine 
 folks, you know — seeing, and being seen, Donny, and I know 
 one young lady by sight, at any rate, who was pretty tolerably 
 admired, 1 can teU. you. I never did see a girl stared at as 
 Patty was — that's the fact. God knows I don't want to flatter 
 her, and make her vain, for I hate it hke poison. I never was 
 vain myself, and I trust my daughter will follow in the same 
 path. But truth is truth, and there was not a man could pass 
 her without turning round, and having another look." 
 
 " I am not greatly surprised at that, my dear ! " rephed Mr. 
 O'Donagough, looking very complacently at his ghttering 
 daughter. " Patty was a devilish fine girl when she was dressed 
 with no finery at all, to speak of ; and I can't say but what she 
 looks all the better for what she has got on now. It would have 
 been rather strange if the people had not looked at her, I think." 
 
 " Strange ! " exclaimed Miss Matilda, " it would have been 
 
352 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 downright unnatural ! You do look beautiful to-day, Patty, 
 and there's no good in denying it, even to your face. So don't 
 be angry, my dear, for I can't help it." 
 
 " Well, then, if the truth is to be told," said Miss Louisa, 
 " I won't be afraid to give my opinion, even before it is asked, 
 and I must say that never in my hfe did I ever see Mrs. 
 O'Donagough look so beautifully well as she does to-day. My 
 goodness ! how those feathers do become her, to be sure ! " 
 
 After a few more delightful moments such as these, Patty 
 and Matilda ran up stairs, leaving Mrs. O'Donagough to ex- 
 plain at length the jocose manoeuvre of her noble friend, which 
 h:id occasioned her late return. 
 
 "Well, Patty! tell me all. Did you enjoy it?" was the 
 opening of the tete-a-tete in the fair debutante's bed-room. 
 
 " Enjoy it ? I am sure I can hardly teU whether I did or 
 not. It was all done in such a flurry. Of course I liked to 
 see the people looking at me, and for once in her life mamma 
 told the truth, for upon my honour and life, Matilda, I don't 
 think that there was one man passed, unless perhaps it was 
 some very old ones indeed, who did not turn his head round 
 to look at me. And they were all, I suppose, dukes and lords, 
 or else baronets, at the very least. And that is not hke being 
 stared at in a common way, you know." 
 
 " I think not, indeed," replied her friend, with great energy. 
 " There's many a girl may get a good stare from people at the 
 playhouse, you know, or anything of that sort, who would 
 never get a single look from a lord. But I should think, Patty, 
 that you were exactly the sort of girl to produce a great effect 
 at court. Because you know that when there is such a quantity 
 of rank and fashion, as the papers say, all brought together in a 
 crowd, nobody that was not something particularly striking 
 could hope to be looked at at all. I always have said there was 
 something uncommonly striking in you. But you have not 
 told me half yet. Did you see many people that you knew ? " 
 
 " Yes ! we saw the Stephensons and the Hiiberts — and there 
 was another that I saw, too, that I plagued well, I'll be hanged 
 if I didn't — nasty, false-hearted villain as he is !" 
 
 " You don't mean Sir Jack, do you ? " 
 
 " Yes, but I do, though ; and I would plague and torment him 
 into his grave if I did but know the way, and dance over it, 
 with you know who, Matilda, when I had got him there. 
 You'll stare, perhaps, when I tell you that I got hold of his sir- 
 ship's arm, and made my beau of him for an hour and a haK by 
 any watch in Christendom. And didn't I hold him tight ? I 
 do beheve, at the very bottom of my heart, that he would 
 have had me in the middle of the Red Sea, if he could." 
 
 " Nonsense, Patty I why should he have given you his arm, 
 if he wanted so bad to get rid of you ? " 
 
MISS patty's JIODE or EATING. 353 
 
 " Why ? — ask mamma that, Matilda. She did manage it 
 capital, to be sure ! But she didn't know one half-quarter the 
 deUght I took in it for all that. She don't see so far into a 
 millstone as I do, and though I don't much think she herself 
 believes all the lies she is so fond of telhng about his being still 
 my loTer, I am quite sure that she has got no notion of what 
 else he's after. But I have, Matilda. He is in love now, or 
 pretending to be in love (which is much the same thing to him, 
 good-for-nothing villain), with my whey-faced cousin Elizabeth. 
 And rU just ask you to guess how well pleased he was at being- 
 made, absolutely made, Matilda, to let go both Miss and Madam 
 Hubert, in order to take mamma and me in tow, instead of 
 them. Oh ! it was capital fun, I promise you, and I'll have 
 some more of it to-night, or I'll know the reason why. But I 
 won't talk any more about it now, Matilda, for I am as hungry 
 as a hound, and I won't be plagued all through dinner time with 
 fearing to spoil my lovely pink satin. A spot of grease, you 
 know, would just be murder. I know how I eat when I'm 
 hungry. I'm not one of your mincing misses that's afraid to 
 enjoy their food, for fear of spoiling either their gown, or their 
 complexion, or their gentihty. But I'U just make free with my 
 finery, and cover it all up upon the bed tiU it's time to put it on 
 again for the ball. You must help me to take it off, Matilda, 
 for our lady's maid is over head and ears in business about the 
 supper. 'Twill be such a glorious supper, MatUda ! won't we 
 enjoy it after the waltzing ? " 
 
 Everything being of course out of joint throughout the man- 
 sion on this important day, Mr. O'Donagough and the four ladies 
 sat down to dinner in the library at five o'clock, and from that 
 hour till eight enjoyed themselves in all the luxury of the most un- 
 ceremonious desliabille, eating, drinking, and planning improve- 
 ments for all the great and httle glories of the coming night. 
 
 Biit when the clock struck eight Patty started up, exclaim- 
 ing, " Now, then, Matilda, let us be off. There are four of us 
 to dress, and only one maid to do it all. Just let's have a look 
 at the ball-room as we go by. As to the supper, there's no 
 getting a peep at that, without having mamma too, for the 
 door has been locked up ever since nine o'clock this morning ; 
 but I got in once, though, before they could turn the key, and 
 saw sights, I can tell you. Such a trifle, Matilda ! and no less 
 than four tipsy cakes ! " 
 
 While taking their look at the ball-room, and admiring all 
 tho arrangements for lighting and decoration, which, like every- 
 thing else performed by Mr. O'Donagough at this period of liis 
 existence, was done upon a scale of great expense, Patty seized 
 her friend Matilda by the waist, and began dragging her round 
 the room in a waltz. 
 
 " Don't you long for it to begin ? " said she, stopping at 
 length to recover breath. 
 
054 THE WIDOW jrAItHIED. 
 
 " Yes, T should, Patty,'" replied Matilda, in a plaintive Toioe; 
 " notwithstanding aU I have suffered, I reaUy do think I should 
 enjoy it, if " 
 
 "If what?" demanded Patty, -whirling herself round and 
 round before a glass. 
 
 " Why — if 1 was as sure of having partners as you are. 
 Girls at home are always sure to get the pick of the market ! " 
 
 " As / am," replied Patty, with an expressive wink. " I can't 
 say anything about that, my dear ; I rather think I am 
 tolerably sure of a partner to waltz with to-night. However, 
 I'll promise one thing, and that is, that you shall be served with 
 second best." 
 
 " Darling girl !" exclaimed Miss Matilda, with sudden ani- 
 mation. " Anybody that suffered themselves to be out of 
 spirits and unhappy with you would never deserve to have a 
 friend. I don't believe that there ever was such a dear, kind 
 creature as you are ! You may depend upon one thing, Patty, 
 that I will stand by you through thick and thin, let what will 
 come. You haven't said a word yet, have you ? " 
 
 "No, not I — the best time of course must be when they have 
 hundreds of eyes upon them, for they can't fly out, then, you 
 know, let them wish it ever so much. Trust me, Matilda, I'm 
 the girl for a plot, and you see if I don't carry it through. But 
 not a word ; up stairs for your life — come along ! it's full time 
 to begin beautifying." 
 
 Interesting as were the scenes which followed, and amusingly 
 diversified as they were by the runnings in and runnings out of 
 those engaged in them, from Mrs. O'Donagough's room to Patty's, 
 and from Patty's room to Mrs. O'Donagough's, they must not be 
 narrated at length. The two Miss Perkinses were in greater 
 raptures than ever at the uncommon becomingness of everything 
 Mrs. O'Donagough and Patty put on, and were rewarded for 
 their good taste ' by having the loan of sundry ornamental 
 baubles bestowed upon them. Everything is comparative ; and 
 the magniiioent Mrs. O'Donagough and her daughter, in aU 
 their courtly trappings, scarcely entered the feall-room more 
 completely satisfied with their own appearance, than did Miss 
 Louisa in a yellow silk dress, set off by a prodigiously massive set 
 of garnets belonging to Mrs. O'Donagough, while her head was 
 admirably arranged with a few flowers, a few curls, and one httle 
 red plume, all from the stores of the same hberal lady. The 
 gentle and now revived Matilda wore her white dress, adorned 
 at every possible corner with blue bows and white beads, which 
 had once decorated the charms of her generous Patty. 
 
 At length they were all complete! Each passed in review 
 before each, and each declared that each was perfect. 
 
 " Now, then, let us all go down stairs .' " said Mrs. O'Dona- 
 gough. The ball-room was by tliis time lighted up, and blazed 
 away in all the mingled glory of lamps and wax-lights. 
 
THE AIM OF ME. O'dONAGOUGII'S LIFE. 355 
 
 " Well, then, I never did see anytlnng so beautiful ! " ex- 
 claimed the two Miss Perkinses at once. 
 
 They found JSIr. O'Donagough and his friend Foxcroft em- 
 ployed in giving with their own hands the last finish to the 
 attractions of the third drawing-room, which though last and 
 least of the suite of rooms, was by no means either as to their 
 importance in the consideration of their present owner. 
 
 Some people may suppose that such social meetings as the 
 present between Mr. Foxcroft and Miss Matilda Periins must 
 have been awkward, and that even the tranquil-minded Miss 
 Louisa might have felt in some degree embarrassed by his pre- 
 sence. But such persons know not Mr. Foxcroft. There was 
 a quiet, hard, dry audacity about him, which served his purpose 
 as well as the purest self-approving innocence ; and so admirably 
 did he sustain the demeanour of a slight, but very respectful 
 acquaintance to both the ladies, that for very shame they could 
 not testify emotion before the eyes of one so incapable of shar- 
 ing it. There was, therefore, no drawback whatever to the 
 exhilarating brightness of the scene, nor to the throb of satisfac- 
 tion with which the first thundering knock at the door was 
 welcomed by aU. Another followed, and another, and another, 
 so closely that even the practised looker-on, Louisa, could hardly 
 have ventured to specify which of the many guests came first. 
 
 It was not long before the business of the third drawing- 
 room commenced ; not, indeed, that most important part of it 
 for the bringing on of which the whole costly entertainment was 
 arranged, but such little skirmishing afiairs as sometimes mark 
 the coming on of a battle on which hangs much. 
 
 The plan of Mr. O'Donagough, boldly conceived, and carried 
 into execution with as strict adherence to his Parisian model as 
 the manners of the country would permit, had answered per- 
 fectly. The name of Stephenson had certainly helped him in 
 some quarters, and that of Hubert in others ; but it is probable 
 that he would have done aU he wanted without either. A few 
 tolerable good dinners, with tolerably good wine a discretion, 
 and the power of playing high, playing low, or not playing at 
 all, which followed them, had made it easier than some genuine 
 gentlefolks may deem probable for Mr. Allen O'Donagough to 
 make up both his dinner table, and his card table, very greatly 
 to his satisfaction. But such a mode of life as he was now 
 pursuing was not entered into upon any idle speculation of en- 
 joying a gay existence while it lasted, and just winning enough 
 to keep himself clear of ruin when it should be over. From the 
 first hour of its conception, up to the very important epoch at 
 which he had now arrived, one object had been ever steadily 
 before him, namely, the making prey of some rich, unwary 
 novice, whose ruin should establish him in idleness and luxury 
 for ever. On first becoming acquainted with Sir Henry Sey- 
 mour in his real character, he for a short time really believed 
 
 w 2 
 
356 THE WIDOW MAKRIED. 
 
 Patty's positive assurances that the young gentleman -was her 
 lover, and intended to be her husband ; whioh violent impro- 
 bability could only have been received as truth by such a man 
 as O'Donagough, from his overweening admiration of his 
 daughter's beauty. But the being present at a very few inter- 
 views between them sufficed to open his eyes to the real state of 
 the case, and he quickly atoned to himself for the gross and 
 stupid blunder of which he had been guilty, by dooming the 
 young whist-loving baronet to the expiation of aU his falsehood 
 in love, by the surrender of all his fortune at play. Mr. 
 O'Donagough, however, had yet another blunder to acknowledge 
 in his estimate of Sir Henry Seymour's character. His losing 
 an occasional rubber at whist, when playing at five guinea 
 points, was no surer proof of his being a probable victim to the 
 maddening orgies of the gaming table, than his having kissed 
 Miss Patty was of his intention to convert her into Lady 
 Seymour. And this blunder, too, Mr. O'Donagough found out, 
 without any very long delay ; but he found out two other things 
 also ; first, that the highly-connected young baronet made an 
 excellent decoy duck to his evening parties, it being quite 
 enough to mention, ga et la, that he was one of the whist party, 
 to guarantee the perfect respectability of the rather high play 
 sometimes found there. The other discovery taught him, that 
 whatever advantages the company of Sir Henry Seymour brought 
 were, and ever would be, at his command, so long as the iU- 
 advised young man continued to tremble at the idea of Sir 
 Edward Stephenson's becoming acquainted with the fact of his 
 mad-cap voyage to Sydney. 
 
 With tMs he had manoeuvred very skilfully — never pushing 
 his troublesome friendship so far as to make the young man 
 desperate ; in which state he might have been tempted to do 
 the wisest thing possible, and have opened the whole of his hot- 
 headed, but essentially harmless proceeding to Sir Edward. 
 But to this he had never yet been driven ; and having been 
 made perfectly aware by the admirable tactics of Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, that he was not expected to be in love with Patty, he 
 scrupled not to remain on very civil visiting terms with the 
 whole family, which, with its chief, assumed something like a 
 tone of intimacy from the secret which existed between them. 
 
 But, though foiled in his hopes of becoming master of the 
 broad lands of Sir Henry Seymour, Mr. O'Donagough had not 
 stood the heavy charges of two London seasons in vain. He had 
 made money, a great deal of money, considerably more than he 
 had expended, and that, too, quietly and snugly, without any 
 eclat or disagreeable gossip whatever. But the time for which he 
 had all along quietly waited was now come ; and the night of 
 the day on which his wife and daughter had been presented at 
 court, the night on which his house was to be sanctified by the 
 presence of many persons, not only of high condition, but of 
 
NO ! 357 
 
 higli character, was cliosen by him as that on which Ids great 
 tour de force was to be made. 
 
 Among many young men with whom he had made acquaint- 
 ance at the various clubs to which he had contrived to get 
 admitted, was one on whose fair low forehead nature had written 
 gullible in characters not to be mistaken. No sooner did Mr. 
 O'Donagough look in the face of this personage than he 
 sought and obtained an introduction to him. His next care was 
 to ascertain who and what he was ; and having learnt upon 
 satisfactory authority that the youth had just thrown off the 
 odious control of a brace of guardians, and that he was in undis- 
 puted and uncontrolled possession of a fine estate, than he culti- 
 vated his acquaintance with an assiduity that left the young 
 gentleman very Httle chance of escaping his friendship. 
 
 This doomed person, whose name was Konaldson, no longer 
 a canny Scotsman, however, whatever his forefathers might have 
 been, was one of those unfortunate, but often amiable, indi- 
 viduals, who are born without the capabihty of uttering the 
 monosyllable No. He was not very wise, certainly, but there 
 are hundreds of weaker intellect tlian Mr. Konaldson, who go 
 through life without making any very remarkable blunder, 
 merely because they have the power of pronouncing it, and are 
 capable upon occasion of exclaiming, Such " a word in due 
 season, how good is it ! " 
 
 But poor Robert Konaldson had no such power, and when he 
 was asked to dinner, he dined; and when he was asked to play 
 cards, he did play cards ; and when he was asked to bet, he did 
 bet, — -high bets, low bets, or middling bets, precisely according to 
 the invitation given, and regulated by no other law whatever. 
 
 The three or four thousand pounds which ISIr. O'Donagough 
 had already won from this unfortunate young man, had but 
 whetted his appetite ; and there was such an ungTumbling 
 sans-souciance in the manner in which he drew his cheques, that 
 the operation of ruining him completely, seemed peculiarly fitted 
 for, and suitable to, such a remarkably good-natured man as 
 Mr. O'Donagough was generally declared to be ; so that, in a 
 word, the complete fleecing of Mr. Robert Ronaldson was decided 
 upon between Mr. O'Donagough, and his chief clerk of the 
 works, Mr. Foxcroft ; and the evening of Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 grand ball, fixed on as the time for performing it. 
 
 ' Mr. Ronaldson was not quite the first, but very far from 
 being the last, of the invited guests who arrived. Dancing, 
 though it had not yet reached the height of waltzing, was 
 begun, and a somewhat stiff and sober quadrille was being 
 walked through, by way of prologue to the evening's amiisement. 
 O'Donagough had not yet played himself, though for nearly 
 an hour past a steady party had been at work in the third 
 room of whom Foxcroft was one. When Mr. Ronaldson arrived, 
 therefore, he found the master of the mansion lounging about, 
 
358 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 and criticising the ladies with an air of the most perfect noncha- 
 lance and ban ton. 
 
 " Ah ! Ronaldson ! how are you ? are you a dancer ? " adding, 
 however, before the young man had time to answer, " not you, 
 I'll answer for it. You understand life better than that, 
 Ronaldson ; nothing but the Johnny Raws are seduced into so 
 very laborious a process for the mere gratification of looking at 
 pretty faces, and pretty feet." 
 
 " Why, to say the truth, I do not very often dance. It is 
 not half so amusing as a game at cards " 
 
 " I don't think it is," replied O'Donagough, in a tone of great 
 indifference ; "however, I can't let you play cards now, because 
 there really is a monstrous number of fine girls here, and we 
 must give them a look. Come with me to that corner, Ronald- 
 son, we shall find it a very snug look-out." 
 
 The facile young man followed him to the place he indicated, 
 and began looking at the ladies as he was told to do. Having 
 got him there, however, Mr. O'Donagough made no great exer- 
 tions to amuse him, merely saying from time to time, " Mercy on 
 me ! what a crowd we shall have ! It will be perfectly stifling," 
 which words, accompanied by many expressive yawns, and a fre- 
 quent shifting of the weight from one leg to the other, speedily 
 produced the intended efiect on his companion, who began to 
 yawn likewise, and to declare in a tone not the least in the world 
 expressive of pleasure, that there was a very great crowd indeed. 
 
 " And not a chair to be hoped for ! " exclaimed O'Dona- 
 gough. " For mercy's sake, my dear fellow, don't let us stay 
 here, stuck up for show, like deals in a timber-yard. Upon my 
 soul I cannot stand it — nor stand any longer. Let us see if we 
 cannot do better in one of the other rooms." 
 
 To the second drawing-room they repaired accordingly, and 
 a very narrow cane bench being fortunately disengaged, they 
 seated themselves upon it, having before them a pleasant peep 
 now and then across the crowd, of the snug comforts of the 
 card-room, where the chairs and sofas were of the most 
 luxurious form possible. 
 
 " Is there any reason why we should not go into the card-room 
 now, O'Donagough?" demanded Mr. Ronaldson, after having 
 enjoyed the luxury of the cane bench for about ten minutes. 
 
 "Not if you wish it, certainly. Heaven knows I should 
 prefer it myself, for it is the only place that looks comfortable ; 
 but as this is the first dance you have ever been at here, I 
 thought I must do the honours. But you are something like 
 me, I beheve, and have no great taste for such Tomfooleries." 
 And so saying, his attentive host now led the way to the soft 
 sofas, easy chairs, and quiet rubber of the third room. 
 
 Ronaldson threw himself into a delightful iergere at the cor- 
 ner of the whist-table, and for some time seemed to amuse him- 
 self exceedingly well by watching the progress of the game, but 
 
WHIST BALANCES PIQUET. 859 
 
 at length lie was again seen to yawn, upon which Mr. O'Dona- 
 gough, who had been in the room a httle, and out of the room a 
 little, and^ in short, doing everything that looked the least like 
 being anxious to play, said as he again drew near to him, " Don't 
 you think, Ronaldson, we might contrive to make up another 
 table? As you don't dance, you will iind it monstrous stupid 
 if you don't play." 
 
 " I should like it of all things," replied Ronaldson, "if you 
 think you can be spared from the ball-room." 
 
 " Oh, faith ! I've done my duty there. But I don't see a soul 
 hkely to play a real good rubber, such as you and I enjoy. Let 
 us have a game at piquet, Ronaldson?" 
 
 " I shall like that better than wliist,'' replied the young man, 
 "for I am a better match for you there." 
 
 " You have found that out, have you ? " said O'Donagough, 
 laughing. " You are quite right, certainly, but never mind. If 
 I lose at piquet with you, I'll win at whist with somebody else. 
 It all comes wonderfully even at the end of the year." 
 
 Within five minutes after he had pronounced these words, 
 ]\Ir. Allen O'Donagough found Mmself placed at the very iden- 
 tical httle table, in the precise chair, in the precise corner of 
 the room, with exactly the degree of light, and no more, and 
 exactly the same companion, and no other, that he had planned 
 and predetermined, at least three months before. 
 
 The progress of the game varied but httle from what pretty 
 generally happens upon such occasions. From the time tliey 
 began playing, till the majority of the company began moving 
 down stairs to supper, Mr. Ronaldson won every game, with the 
 exception of two, which he was permitted to lose, that the sti- 
 mulant of variety might not be altogether wanting. When the 
 word supper, however, caught the ears of the young man, who, 
 notwithstanding his exhilarating good fortune, was by that time 
 very seriously hungry, he hinted a wish to follow in the train 
 that was still pouring through the doors ; but Mr. O'Donagough, 
 who seemed vexed and irritated by his continued losses, said, 
 "No! upon my soul, Ronaldson! That is not fair, you have 
 won pretty well every game, and now you are for carrying off 
 the spoU without giving me even a chance of revenge." 
 
 This accusation startled, and somewhat nettled the young- 
 man, who, with all his defects, was not in the least degree dis- 
 posed to take an unfair advantage of any one. 
 
 " Upon my honour, O'Donagough, I had no such idea," he re- 
 plied, very gravely. ' ' I will play after supper as long as you like, 
 and for what you hke, but in simple truth, I am very hungry." 
 
 "Foxcroft! your table is up, is it not?" cried O'Dona- 
 gough, to his faithful and observant friend. 
 
 "Yes! they are all off to the supper table,'' rephed the 
 accomplished minister. 
 
 " Then do you be olf to the supper-table too, my good fellow, 
 
360 TEE -WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 and see that Kichardson brings us up a tray worth having, with 
 a flasli: or two of champagne ; it's your deal, Ronaldson. There 
 is nothing I abominate lilce standing about in a supper-room, 
 pushed right and left by a hundred hungry and thirsty women, 
 who never dream that any one can want anything but them- 
 selves. You will do fifty times better here, Eonaldson, you 
 may depend on it." 
 
 '' Likely enough," replied his easy companion. " Give me 
 half a chicken, and a glass of champagne, and I'll play all 
 night if you like it." 
 
 Meanwhile, the more ostensible business of the meeting was 
 going on in an equally satisfactory manner in the ball-room. 
 The party, which was really large and brilliant, assembled 
 with fewer exceptions from disappointments and excuses than 
 might have been expected, and the whirling waltz went on 
 greatly to the satisfaction of Patty ; and now and theij, of 
 Matilda too, for about one set in iour she was blessed with a 
 partner by a sudden fit of recollection in her devoted friend. 
 At a little after midnight, Mrs. Hubert and her daughter, toge- 
 ther with the whole party who had dined with them, entered 
 the rooms. General Hubert was prevented from accompanying 
 them by a gentleman, who, having called upon him very late 
 in the evening upon business of importance, still remained with 
 him in his hbrary, when the rest of the party set off for Mrs. 
 O'Donagough's ; but he sent down a slip of paper to his wife, 
 on which was written in pencil, " I shall come to Curzon-street 
 the moment I am at liberty — send back the carriage for me." 
 
 Mre. Hubert and the party which entered with her, could 
 not have made their appearance in any salon in Europe without 
 producing a sensalion, and it may easily be imagined that Mrs. 
 O'Donagoiigh was not sparing in her efforts to circulate the 
 fact of their very near relationship to herself. Of all her 
 glorious day, this was decidedly the most glorious moment, 
 and perhaps in her own heart she might have felt a sort of 
 undefined consciousness that she had reached her culminating 
 point, for as she looked round upon the grand display of lights, 
 and flowery decorations — as she hstened to the gay strains of 
 Strauss — as she marked the gTand display of dancing elegance 
 that floated round her — and finally, as she gazed upon the 
 graceful array of distinguished relatives as they walked up the 
 room, she heaved a deep-drawn sigh as if overpowered by the 
 fulness of her contentment. 
 
 Sir Henry Seymour had been for some time in the room, and 
 joined Lady Stephenson, Mrs. Hubert, and their train, the 
 moment they appeared. But of all that fair host, there was but 
 one who met him kindly, nay, even that one felt in her heart 
 of hearts that he was unworthj', and though, when she re- 
 marked that all looked upon him coldly, a sort of relenting 
 softness led her still to greet him as a friend, she would have 
 
AN ATOWAL 03? XOVK. 861 
 
 bettnr liked that the state of things should have been reversed, 
 and that, as heretofore, he should have been welcomed by the 
 smiles of all, so that she might have been released from the sort 
 of pitying necessity of being civil. But this state of things 
 endiixed but a short time ; he immediately asked her to dance, 
 and though she agreed to do so, merely because she knew not 
 how to avoid it, her judgment of him was completely changed 
 before the measure ended. 
 
 Little as Sir Henry Seymour had hitherto given his friends 
 reason to admire his deliberative wisdom, he had been for some 
 time past giving proofs of it, though they knew it not, which 
 might well entitle him to respect. He had loved Elizabeth, 
 young as she was, almost from the first moment he had renewed 
 acquaintance with her after his return from Australia. This, 
 however, was not till they met in Paris, about a year after the 
 departure of the Hubert family from Brighton. But the feel- 
 ing she inspired was not, at that period, at least, such as alto- 
 gether to cast out fear. He remembered that the guardian he 
 had so grievously offended was by marriage her uncle, and 
 though the reconciliation between them was perfect, he dreaded 
 lest the harem-scarem reputation of his boyhood might become an 
 impediment to the dearest hope of his life. For this reason he 
 very wisely determined to look and love for a while longer, and 
 though in spite of all his resolutions he certainly had betrayed, 
 both to Ehzabeth and Elizabeth's watchful friends, the secret of 
 his heart, he had never, till this eventful evening, breathed a 
 word which could be fairly construed into a confession of love. 
 
 But now, though the time of his self-imposed probation was 
 not yet over, he could no longer restrain the impulse which 
 urged Mm at once to avow his wishes, and receive his doom. More 
 circumstances than one led him to this. The evident sensation 
 produced among the critical crowd at St. James's that morning 
 by the appearance of Elizabeth, had sent a qualm of terror to 
 liis heart, from the idea that she must inevitably be asked in 
 marriage by half the peerage. In addition to this misery, came 
 the outrage to his feelings produced by Mrs. O'Donagough's 
 public seizure of him, and his consequent enforced desertion of all 
 he most loved, for all he most disliked ; and, to crown all, he was 
 by no means slow to perceive in the altered eyes of his friends, 
 when he presented himself to them in Mrs. O'Donagough's draw- 
 ing-room, that he had offended them, as he could not doubt, 
 by his involuntary share in the adventures of the morning. 
 
 The resolution upon which he had been pondering from the 
 moment he had bowed himself away from the carriage-door of 
 Mrs. O'Donagough, became at that moment fixed and unchange- 
 able. He had endured to linger with very tolerable philosopliy 
 on the tlireshold of happiness, but to see himself thrust from it 
 in consequence of his presumed attachment to the O'Donagough 
 race, was beyond his strength. He determined not to leave the 
 
3G2 THE WIDOW MAKRIED. 
 
 room till he had asked Elizabeth Hubert to be his wife — and he 
 determined, too, that should her answer be favourable, he would 
 not live twenty-fom' hours longer without exonerating himself 
 from the intolerable thraldom of feeling at the mercy of Mr. 
 O'Donagough, by confessing both to Sir Edward and the 
 genei'al the whole history of his foolish masquerading expedition 
 to Australia. 
 
 In both these resolutions he was quite right ; and for all the 
 wisdom of the first of them he was speedily rewarded by the 
 beautiful simplicity with which Ehzabeth permitted him to read 
 her innocent young heart. How far the closing of that day was 
 unlike its opening, to both of them, may be very safely left to con- 
 jecture; while the narrative turns to scenes of rather a different 
 character, which were going on at no great distance from them. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 There was, besides Elizabeth, one other person of Mrs. 
 Hubert's party who entered the rooms with a spirit pre- 
 occupied, and nevertheless awake in no common degree to a 
 feeling of deep interest, concerning all that might chance to 
 pass there. This person was Mrs. Stephenson. From the time 
 she had met Mrs. O'Donagough at the house of her father, this 
 lively lady had been labouring without intermission to obtain 
 intelligence respecting the source of her newly-acquired wealth, 
 together with every particular possible to be got at, respecting 
 the position and manner of life of Mr. O'Donagough. Having 
 an extremely clever lady's maid, and a saucy French page, who 
 could have worked his way tlirough a deal board as readily as a 
 gimlet, had he expected to find either mischief or profit behind 
 it, — having two such functionaries, both very devotedly attached 
 to her, and bound in all ways to do her bidding, it is not, per- 
 haps, very extraordinary that she contrived to obtain a few 
 hints which confirmed her in the belief that good Mr. 
 Willoughby's suggestion of a large fortune having fallen into 
 the possession of Mr. O'Donagough was less probable than de- 
 sirable. In short, she came to the house fully aware that high 
 play was carried on there, and was much inclined to suspect 
 that Sir Henry Seymour's intimacy in the family was owing to 
 this. With a great deal of warm-hearted good feeling, Nora 
 had also a httle of that species of animated interest in the affairs 
 of those she loved, which sometimes leads to interference more 
 active than judicious. Most women loving and trusting a hus- 
 band, as completely as she loved and trusted hers, would have 
 confided all their suspicions to him, and trusted to his manage- 
 ment the delicate task of discovering whether the man she had 
 wished to see thehusband of her niece was undeserving thishappi- 
 ness, either from his being a gambler, or an inconstant. But no, 
 Mrs. Stephenson very greatly preferred managing the whole mat- 
 
A QUIET GAME AT PIQUET. 803 
 
 ter herself, and, excepting her maid and her page, no living being 
 had the slightest suspicion of what she had got in her head. 
 
 For a short time after Seymour and Ehzabeth had stood up 
 side by side for the purpose of walking about a little, and 
 talking a good deal to the various airs of a quadrille, Mi's. 
 Stephenson took the trouble of moving from one side of the 
 room to the other, said back again, and then a little on one side, 
 and then a little on the other, in order to ascertain whether thej 
 appeared to be on the same sort of terms together which she had 
 formerly remarked with so much satisfaction. It was not very 
 long before she became perfectly satisfied on this point, an.L 
 then she determined to take advantage of having completely 
 separated herself from her party in order to penetrate to the 
 card-room, and make her own observations upon what shj 
 might find there, without being interrupted by anybody. 
 
 The crowd that filled the rooms, and which at that time was 
 at its height, prevented this manceuvre from being remarked by 
 any individual of her own party. Frederic was not there : for 
 Mr. O'Donagough, having long ago ascertained that he was not 
 a playing man, had gradually, as his connection increased with 
 those who were, made liimself less agreeable, and less observant, 
 so that the acquaintance begun at Brighton would have been a 
 decided bore in London, had it not tacitly died away by mutiial 
 concert. Without any interruption whatever, therefore, the 
 enterprising Nora made her way across the first room, through 
 the second, and into the third, till she found herself within a 
 few feet of Mr. O'Donagough, Mr. Ronaldson, their snug httls 
 table, and their very quiet game of piquet. She perceived a 
 considerable quantity of gold upon the table, which surprised 
 her not, but it did surprise her to observe that it was the simple- 
 looking young man who constantly won every game, while her 
 strongly suspected acquaintance, Mr. O'Donagough as constantly 
 lost without manifesting any symptom of vexation, or indeed of 
 emotion of any kind. Beside Mr. Konaldson, and immediately 
 opposite O'Donagough stood Mr. Foxcroft. To Mrs. Stephen- 
 son this gentleman was totally a stranger, nor would his ap- 
 pearance in any way have attracted her attention, had she not 
 observed that a slight smile, which he sought to conceal by 
 passing his hand across his mouth, was perceptible each time 
 that the elder gentleman counted over a handful of sovereigns 
 to the younger one. She was quite sure, too, by the direction 
 of the eyes of both, that whatever thoughts produced this smile 
 were in common between Mr. O'Donagough and the gaunt 
 figure from whom it proceeded, though nothing in the slightest 
 degree approaching to an answering smile could be perceived on 
 the well-regulated features of the former. 
 
 It was just as she had observed this for the third time, and that 
 some vague notion not altogether unhke the truth was growing 
 into very shrewd suspicion in the mind of Mrs. Stephenson, that 
 
364 THE WIDOW MARKIED. 
 
 she felt her arm touched by some one beside her, and looking round, 
 perceived Elizabeth Peters staring at Mr. O'Donagough very 
 earnestly, while at the same time she was calling her attention 
 with more familiarity than their acquaintance warranted. 
 
 "Ibegyourpardon, Mrs. Stephenson," she said, "but will you 
 be so kind as to tell me the name of that gentleman opposite ? " 
 
 " It is the master of the house — Mr. O'Donagough." 
 
 " O'Donagough? " repeated Miss Peters in a cautious whis- 
 per. " Indeed, Mrs. Stephenson, that is not his real name." 
 
 At any other time it is possible that this abrupt contradic- 
 tion from a person very nearly a stranger to her might have 
 obtained from Mrs. Stephenson a look of offended surprise and 
 nothing more ; but in the present state of her mind, nothing 
 could be more certain of commanding her attention than such a 
 communication as this. She immediately passed her arm under 
 that of Miss Peters, and silently drew her tlxrough the crowd 
 till they reached the landing-place on the top of the stairs ; there, 
 comparatively speaking, they were alone, and Mrs. Stephenson 
 after mounting a step or two of the ascending flight for greater 
 security, turned to her surprised companion, and said in a tone 
 of the deepest interest, " Tell me, Miss Peters, for mercy's sake, 
 tell me instantly, what it is you mean by the words you just now 
 spoke to me." 
 
 " I mean, Mrs. Stephenson, that unless I am a great deal 
 more mistaken than ever I was in my whole life before, that per- 
 son who you say is the master of the house is Major Allen, a man 
 that I knew very well at Clifton very nearly twenty years ago." 
 
 Never certainly did any lady in the act of weaving a romance 
 and elucidating a mystery, receive a piece of intelligence more 
 well-timed, or more completely german to the subject of her 
 thoughts. 
 
 " My dear Miss Peters ! " she exclaimed, catching the hand 
 of her companion, and fervently clasping it, " are you indeed 
 convinced, fully convinced, of the truth of what you now assert ? 
 It is no idle curiosity which makes me ask you this : your answer 
 is of real importance." 
 
 " Indeed Mrs. Stephenson, I am ; and I would not say it, 
 unless I was quite sure." 
 
 " But how can we account for no other persons having re- 
 cognised him ? Did not Agnes know that Major Allen ? and I 
 well remember hearing Mr. Stephenson, and the general also, 
 talk over that same season at Clifton of which you must now be 
 speaking, and naming him in a manner that proved they must 
 have known him personally. I think. Miss Peters, that it is 
 impossible." 
 
 "It is not impossible at all, Mrs. Stephenson," replied 
 Elizabeth Peters. " I well remember that neither Agnes nor 
 either of the gentlemen you name, ever spoke to him at all ; 
 whereas I was the person to whom he always addressed himself. 
 
AN OLD FEIEND WITH A NEW NA5IE. 3C5 
 
 I was very young then, and did not find out till afterwards that 
 he was not so gentlemanlike a person as he pretended to be. 
 But I was more with my aunt Barnaby than any of them, and 
 this man was certainly making love to her, though it did not 
 come to anything then. You may depend upon it that what I 
 say is true — I remember every feature in his face, but most 
 particularly I remember a wart that he has on the left temple, 
 which the wig that he wears now is intended, I suppose, to 
 cover ; but while I stood looking at him he wiped his forehead 
 with his pocket handkerchief, and just pushed back the hair, so 
 that I saw it perfectly. I was very sure it was Major Allen 
 before that, but I could not have any doubt afterwards." 
 
 " And he calls himself Allen O'Donagough ! " exclaimed 
 Mrs. Stephenson in the softest of whispers, and suddenly feeling 
 perfectly convinced of the fact. "Nothing was ever so for- 
 tunate as my meeting you here, my dear Miss Peters. You will 
 not, I am sure, refuse to assist me in the project I am bent upon, 
 of completely unmasking this detestable man. It would be a 
 very righteous thing to do it, even without any personal motive 
 — ^but I have many. Will you then return with me to the card 
 room — remain close to me — and 'svithout attracting attention, 
 even by a whisper, let us both carefully watch what is going 
 on ? You have already proved that you have a keen eye — I am 
 not quite blind myself ; and with your help, and that of my eye- 
 glass, I fuUy expect to see something worth noting." 
 
 Exceedingly well pleased to find herself of more conse- 
 quence than usual, Elizabeth Peters expressed her readiness to 
 do anything that Mrs. Stephenson wished ; and once more linked 
 arm-in-arm, they re-entered the card room together. By the 
 time they recovered their position near the little piquet table, 
 a murmur about " going down to supper" began to make itself 
 heard, and a movement was already perceptible among the 
 crowd. Silently pressing the arm. of her companion, Mrs. Ste- 
 phenson very skilfully fell back, as if pressed upon by the pass- 
 ing throng, and ensconced herself and Miss Peters in a draperied 
 recess, which contained a sofa, and which might, by letting the 
 curtains drop, be made exactly to correspond in appearance with 
 the one window of the apartment, giving to the irregular room 
 the advantageous effect of two windows instead of one, and a 
 niche. During the long consultations which had been held 
 between Mrs. O'Donagough and her friend Louisa, concern- 
 ing the most advantageous manner of setting off her " beautiful 
 rooms" for this great occasion, nothing had detained them so 
 long as this puzzling recess. Miss Louisa was very strongly of 
 opinion that the general effect of the three rooms altogether 
 would be a great deal indeed more grand by making it appear 
 that there were two regular handsome windows in the card 
 room. Whereas Mrs. O'Donagough herself, remembering, per- 
 haps, the days of Silverton and Captain Tate, declared that 
 
866 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 nothing could look so inviting as that pretty sofa with the dra- 
 peries festooned before it. At length the amiable wife ex- 
 claimed, " We will ask Donny about it." And Miss Louisa 
 was accordingly despatched to the study to invite the master of 
 the house to the consultation. 
 
 " Well, Mr. 0'D._, what do you say to it ? " demanded his 
 wife, after fairly stating the pros and cons. 
 
 " It had much better look like a window at once, my dear,'' 
 he replied. " I don't want people to be tempted., as you call it, 
 into sitting in this room at all. Nobody can enjoy a game at 
 cards unless the room is quiet ; and though I know just at first 
 that the people will be pushing in and out, I am determined to 
 have a quiet hour or two after supper, and I shall just lock the 
 door, you may depend upon it." 
 
 " That is just as you please, my dear," answered his wife, 
 gaily. " By that time, all the people will have seen that we 
 have got three rooms ; and, of course, that's all I care about it." 
 
 " Very well, then, that's all right ; but I'd rather you would 
 make the recess look merely like a window if you can." And 
 so the discussion ended, Mrs. O'Donagough very obediently ar- 
 ranging the curtains of the window and the recess exactly alike. 
 But about half an hour before the company began to arrive— 
 while Mr. O'Donagough was giving some last instructions to 
 Foxcroft in the library, and while the two Miss Perkinses and 
 Patty were still indulging in some last looks, last pins, and last 
 pinches before their looking-glasses above — ^the highly-delighted 
 mistress of the fete beguiled those moments of expectation by 
 walking backwards and forwards through what she loved to 
 call her suite of rooms, and pushing a bench an inch one way, and 
 pulling a chair an inch that, in the idle attempt to improve 
 what her heart told her was already perfect. In the course of 
 these repeated promenades, it occuri-ed to her that the appear- 
 ance both of the real window and the fictitious one would be 
 greatly more elegant were their draperies partially drawn up, 
 disclosing in the one case a small portion of a coloured blind, 
 which she greatly admired, and in the other a very slight peep 
 into her beloved recess, which, though not sufficient to induce 
 anybody to penetrate its darkness, nevertheless might give the 
 idea of some addition to the extent, of which she was so parti- 
 cularly proud. This last improvement completed her labours of 
 preparation, for the three ladies from above entered the room 
 immediately after ; and their admiration of her and her rooms, 
 and her admiration of them and their dresses, left no time for 
 any more finishing touches, before the company began to arrive. 
 
 It was, then, into this dark recess that Mrs. Stephenson and 
 her assistant conspirator slid, unobserved of any, during the in- 
 teresting moment when all but the piquet-players were pressing 
 forward to supper. A slight touch of the finger caused one of 
 the curtains to drop entirely, and beliiad this shelter they 
 
CAED-SnARPIXG. SC7 
 
 seated themselves, having, by the partial elevation of the other, 
 a perfect view of the persons whose proceedings they were about 
 to watch. 
 
 They heard Mr. Eonaldson's petition for supper, and Mr. 
 O'Donagough's answer to it. They saw the " tray worth hav- 
 ing" brought in by the intelhgent-looking Eichardson. They 
 saw Jlr. Foxcroft, the only individual left in the room besides 
 themselves and the players, quietlylock both the doors, and then 
 assume to himself the office of butler, which he performed with 
 so much zealous gaiety, that one flask of champagne was 
 finished and another begun before he attempted to eat or drink 
 anything himself. Neither did Mr. O'Donagough share largely 
 in the conviviality of the moment. He professed himself to be 
 qiute out of heart from his infernal beating — swore that he had 
 never met with any one so completely his master before, but 
 declared that if he sat up all night and lost his last shilling he 
 would not give in. 
 
 Mr. Ronaldson, whose head was not very capable of bearing 
 steadily either his good fortune or the good wine, was beginning 
 to gTow loquacious, when O'Donagough, perceiving that the 
 champagne had done all the work he wanted from it, at least for 
 the present, brought back the attention of the young man to the 
 business part of the entertainment, by saying — 
 
 " Now, Ronaldson ! have at you again — double or quits — 
 double the whole of my confounded losses, or quits. Do you 
 agree?" 
 
 " To be sure I do, " rephed the young man, with a jovial laugh. 
 " What do you take me for ?" 
 
 " For a very honest fellow, Ronaldson, who, knowing he has 
 got the advantage in play, is willing to let his adversary take a 
 chance from luck ! Just put that tray back upon the other table, 
 Foxcroft — we shall have no more whist to-night, I dare say." 
 
 Foxcroft obeyed, and then placed liimself, as before, behind 
 Ronaldson, and precisely opposite to O'Donagough. It was then 
 that Mrs. Stephenson, whose interest in the scene passing be- 
 fore her was now worked up to a point that made her utterly 
 forgetful of the awkwardness of her own situation — it was now 
 for the first time that she began to comprehend fully the value, 
 if not exactly the nature, of the telegraphic signs made by Mr. 
 Foxcroft for the benefit of Mr. O'Donagough. It was quite 
 impossible, unless he had turned himself completely round, that 
 Ronaldson could even be conscious of Mr. Foxcroft being near 
 him ; while on the other hand, not a glance of the eye, or a 
 motion of the finger, could escape being seen by O'Donagough, 
 and that so distinctly, that the mere -act of raising his eyes for 
 an instant was all that was required to obtain all the informa- 
 tion which it was the purpose of Mr. Foxcroft to convey. 
 
 Mrs. Stephenson felt, as she said afterwards, that she would 
 willingly have staked her own life, and almost that of one of her 
 
3CS THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 children, upon the issue of that game. Nor would there in 
 truth have been any great risk in doing so. The event, as 
 all must anticipate, was in favour of Mr. O'Donagough, who, 
 as soon as it was ended, said, very composedly — 
 
 " Well, then, Roualdson, now we start fair again. I have 
 had a tremendous beating, nevertheless — nine games to three. 
 However, I scorn to show a white feather ! If I lose, my De- 
 vonshire estates must pay for it. If you wiU, I am ready to 
 play, you again for the same amount as I have now won, and I 
 will tell you what I will do besides — for I can't endure the idea 
 of turning craven, merely because I have met with a better 
 player than myself — I will go on with you for six games — just 
 write it down, Foxoroft — I will go on with you for six games, 
 double or quits every time — and rather than let you count me a 
 craven, I would go on for a dozen so, only I think we shall have 
 had enough of it by that time, and the party will be broke up, 
 and we shall all be ready to go to bed. Do you agree to it ? " 
 
 Poor Ronaldson, who at the freshest hour of the morning 
 would hardly have been capable of judging accurately of the 
 nature and extent of the proposition now offered to him, was 
 at this moment as utterly incapable of doing so as if his age had 
 amounted to one lustre only, instead of live. With a laugh 
 that was very nearly that of imbecility, he rubbed his hands, and 
 repeated again and again, " Done, done, done." 
 
 Another, and another game was then played, of course with 
 the same result asthe last. The young man's purse and weU -stored 
 pocket-book were by that time exhausted, upon which Foxcroft 
 brought forth writing materials, and the half-sobered, half- 
 stultified Ronaldson set his hand at the termination of the next 
 game to the acknowledgment of an enormous debt. 
 
 Mrs. Stephenson's position now became extremely painful. 
 Though perfectly certain of the nefarious nature of the transac- 
 tion that was going on before her eyes, she began, as her embar- 
 rassment increased, and her spirits sank, to doubt whether she 
 would be able to prove it to others in such a manner as to ex- 
 onerate the unfortunate young man from the effects of his foUy. 
 If not, she was conscious that in thus quietly looking on, and 
 suffering their play to proceed, she was making herself a party to 
 the poor victim's ruin. A moment's calculation sufficed to show 
 her that the stake, if again doubled at the monstrous amount to 
 which it had reached, would of itself constitute a large fortune, 
 and this again had to be doubled, and the amount doubled yet 
 again, before the match which she had heard agreed for could be 
 finished. As to any change of fortune in the event of the 
 games being played, she felt perfectly assured it could not occur ; 
 and thus, if her fears as to the value of her own evidence were well 
 grounded, she should be doomed, unless she summoned courage to 
 interfere, to see a vast robbery committed, which it was most 
 certainly, at the present moment, in her power to prevent. 
 
AN EMBARHASSING QUERY. 369 
 
 So earnestly had her attention been fixed upon the events of 
 the card table, from the time of her entering the recess, that 
 she had paid no attention to the sounds proceeding from the 
 baU-room ; but she now, as the fourth game of the match was 
 rapidly progressing to its conclusion, listened attentively, and 
 became convinced that though the music had not ceased, the 
 company were departing. She heard many names called upon 
 the stairs, a door to which stood open in the middle room, and 
 thus at intervals permitted the sounds to reach her, despite the 
 closed doors of the card-room. The idea that she might, if she 
 lingered longer, outstay her own party, and cause them thereby 
 the most serious alarm, as well as place herself and Miss Peters 
 in a situation the most painfully embarrassing, suflRced to screw 
 her courage to the fitting point, and as Mr. Ronaldson at the 
 end of a deal said, in a trembling voice — " I am forty-five to 
 your ninety, O'Donagough, and the deal is yours," — just as 
 these boding words reached her ears, she started up, and, seiz- 
 ing her companion by the arm, drew her with her across the 
 room, overturning two chairs in her progress, and on reaching 
 the door, the key of which readily obeyed her hand, she turned, 
 and said in a voice much more distinct than she herself hoped 
 for — ■" Play no more, young man ! We have watched the game, 
 and know that you have been cheated. Throw down your cards 
 and play no more. Your promissory note is not worth a farthing, 
 for we can both witness to the manner in which it was won." 
 
 Mr. Ronaldson had sprung from his chair the moment the 
 two ladies had become visible, and standing aside to let them 
 pass, stared, much after the manner he might have done had he 
 seen a spectre. Mr. Foxcroft, who knew neither of the ladies 
 by sight, flew to the door with some vague hope of preventing 
 their going out, and whether he thought they might be sub- 
 sequently pushed up the chimney, or thrown out of the window, 
 he probably did not know himself at the moment ; but whatever 
 his projects might have been, they were rendered abortive by 
 the^oor having yielded to the hand of Mrs. Stephenson before 
 he reached it. 
 
 Mr. O'Donagough himself sat immovable, nor would it have 
 been easy to perceive from his countenance that anything very 
 remarkable had happened. The triumph of perceptibly shaking 
 his philosophy remained for his old acquaintance EHzabeth 
 Peters, who, recoveriag her courage the moment she saw the 
 light streaming in upon them from the now fast-thinning rooms, 
 forcibly drew back Mrs. Stephenson a step or two, and while 
 several passers-by entered from curiosity, pronounced very dis- 
 tinctly, as she fixed her eyes upon his face — 
 
 " I should like to know, sir, why it is that you go by a false 
 name ? Your name is Allen. At least, you were always called 
 Major AHen at Clifton, and that you know, as well as I." 
 
 On hearing this, and on seeing the many eyes which were 
 
 X 
 
370 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 by this time fixed upon him, the bold spirit of the umquhile 
 O'Donagough, now again Major Allen, was so far moved that 
 he rose from his chair, and taking advantage of his accurate 
 local knowledge, left the room by a side door which led to a 
 back staircase, and was no more heard of that night. 
 
 Even the short moment occupied by these startling words of 
 Miss. Peters, was sufficient for the drawing together so many of 
 the remaining guests around the door of the card room, that 
 something like a crowd appeared to surround it as the two 
 ladies, stiU pale and strongly agitated, passed through it. Their 
 only object was now to find some member of their own party 
 who might assist their retreat from the scene in which they had 
 played so strange a part; but her first glance at the rooms 
 made Mrs. Stephenson exclaim — "They are gone! Gracious 
 heaven ! What terror must Frederic be enduring on reaching 
 home and not finding me ! " 
 
 Great, indeed, was her delight, when she perceived General 
 Hubert approaching with hasty steps towards the spot where 
 many voices were already discussing the adventure which nobody 
 understood, but which everybody was endeavouring to explain. 
 
 " Thank heaven ! " he exclaimed, eagerly receiving the hand 
 whicji the trembhng Nora held out to him. " What does aU this 
 mean? Where have you been hid? We have been looking for 
 you in every direction for above an hour. Frederic is just gone, 
 for the second time, to see if you have reached home ! " 
 
 " I have guessed it all ! But for mercy's sake ask no ques- 
 tions now," repHed Mrs. Stephenson. " Take me away, dear 
 general ! Take us both away ! we have both suifered together I 
 We have been shut up looking on a horrid scene for hours. 
 Yet now it is over, I am thankful that we had courage to act 
 as we have done ; but take us away, I implore you." 
 
 " If we go now, my dear Nora," replied the general, inex- 
 pressibly puzzled by her words, but convinced that it was no 
 time to adi for explanation, " if we go now, Frederic will again 
 miss you, Agnes is stiU in the other room — ^nothing could per- 
 suade her to leave the house till she was convinced that you were 
 not in it. If you wiU sit down quietly with her a few minutes, 
 Stephenson will return, and I am sure it wiU be better for you 
 both. Miss Peters does not look so deadly pale as you do, but 
 I feel her arm trembhng Hke your own." 
 
 While this was said, the general supported the two ladies, 
 whose steps very unaffectedly faltered, across the room which 
 divided the card-room from the principal drawing-room ; but 
 on reaching the door of it, instead of finding the quiet he had 
 offered them, they were met by a scene which rendered anything 
 like tranquilhty in the neighbourhood of it quite impossible. 
 Standing in the middle of the room was Mrs. O'Donagough 
 with hands clasped, head-dress dishevelled, and her breast 
 heaving with convulsive sobs. Beside her stood Miss Louisa 
 
AN ELOPEMENT. 371 
 
 Perkina, -with a pocket-handkercliief at her eyes ; while, with 
 the exception of one silent group which occupied a sofa in a 
 distant corner, every individual not making part of the crowd 
 now in possession of the card-room, stood around her listening 
 to her lamentations, and occasionally uttering a word or two of 
 what seemed very unmeaning consolation. 
 
 " She is gone ! She is eloped ! Heaven only knows where, 
 and for what ! Where is her father ? He has got his hands 
 full, I dare say. But for mercy's sake let somebody go and 
 
 bring Foxcroft to me — ^he shall go- Oh ! dear 1 Oh ! 
 
 dear ! Where shall he go ? Where shall I send him ? I have 
 no more idea than the child unborn ! But I am sure and posi- 
 tive, as I stand here, that it is that horrid vile yellow man with 
 the black whiskers that has taken her! Does nobody know 
 such a person as Don Tofnorino ? or Tornapino ? or some such 
 name as that, wasn't it, Louisa? Dear, darling, good-for- 
 nothing creature as she is ! I saw her waltzing away like one 
 possessed with him, and when I asked her how he came to be 
 here — ^for goodness knows I never asked him — she answered, 
 dear, wicked, clever creature," in her own droll way, ' Never you 
 mind that, mamma! Here he is, and that's enough?' Oh 
 dear ! Oh dear ! K he does not turn out to be a man of rank 
 and fortune I shall die and break my heart — ^I know I shall 1 " 
 
 Such were the sounds that from the crested pride 
 
 of the unfortunate Mrs. O'Donagough poured- forth amidst a 
 torrent of tears, and a whirlwind of sighs, interrupted at inter 
 vaJs, but not checked, by the interjectioDS of her hearers. 
 
 " How very distressing ! " 
 
 " Poor woman ! It is quite shocking ! " 
 
 " I don't wonder at her being so terrified." 
 
 " I am sure if it was my child I should die on the spot." 
 
 Such and such-hke were the only sounds which broke in upon 
 the expression of her mental anguish, tOl at length, while the 
 unhappy lady paiised for a moment to blow her nose, the gentle 
 voice of Miss Louisa Perkins was heard to say, " Do you think, 
 ma'am, that there is any gentleman gone off with Matilda too ? " 
 
 " Never mind whether there is or not! " repHed the anxious 
 mother. " What can that signify compared to my beautiful 
 Patty ? And such a fortune, too, as her poor, dear father told'' 
 me this very day that she would be sure of. Oh I it is too 
 cruel of her ! " 
 
 All this, and a great, a very great deal more in the same 
 strain, was uttered by the bereaved lady, sometimes sitting, 
 sometimes standing, and occasionally lying at fuU length upon 
 a sofa,- and ever with the much-enduring Louisa by her side, 
 till at .length every individual at aU within hearing became 
 fdly aware, that Miss Patty O'Donagough had decidedly eloped 
 with a black-whiskered Don, and that Miss Matilda Perkins 
 
 X 2 
 
372 THE ■WIDOTV MAEKIED. 
 
 had eloped too, but whether with her or with anybody else, 
 there appeared no evidence to show. 
 
 Nothing but the consciousness that her interference could 
 do no good, kept Mrs. Hubert at a distance from her really 
 very unhappy aunt during all these lamentations ; but quite 
 aware that she could render.no assistance, and being in a state 
 of very painful anxiety respecting " the unaccountable dis- 
 appearance of her sister, she remained with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Henderson, who were equally anxious with herself, silently 
 waiting for the return of General Hubert, who had left them 
 for the purpose of once more entering the empty supper-room 
 and once more inquiring of every servant in the hail if Mrs. 
 Stephenson's equipage had been called. 
 
 Much too occupied by their own anxiety to remark the 
 absence of their hostess, they were not aware that, for the last 
 half hour, that unfortunate lady had been employed upon the 
 unpleasing task of convincing herself, by various inquiries 
 among her domestics, that her precious daughter had most 
 certainly left the house without giving a hint to any one of her 
 intention of doing so. And as the black- whiskered Don (too 
 
 well-remembered as the first-floor lodger in street) had 
 
 also suddenly become invisible, it was but natural to suppose 
 that he was her companion. 
 
 Great, indeed, was the joy of Agnes and her friend Mary, 
 ■when their two sisters appeared after their mysterious retreat, 
 and greater stiU was that of Mr. Stephenson, who returned in a 
 few minutes afterwards pale, vehemently agitated, and bringing 
 the terrible intelligence that no tidings could be heard of them. 
 It was then that Mrs. Hubert, her spirits being reheved from 
 her own great anxiety, felt desirous of uttering some word of 
 kindness to her aunt, but this now seemed to be rendered 
 impossible by the earnest conversation in which she was en- 
 gaged with Mr. Foxcroft. 
 
 " No, no, Agnes I " said Mrs. Stephenson, as she heard her 
 sister proposing to the general that they should, before they 
 left the house, express some feeling of sympathy with poor 
 Mrs. O'Donagough's alarm about her daughter, " No, Agnes, 
 you must not speak to her now ! It is not on account of her 
 daughter's running away that she is looking as horror-struck 
 and terrified as you see her at this moment. Poor soul 1 she 
 has heard worse news than that ! But where are Lady Ste- 
 phenson and the Nivetts, and where is your dear gifl ? " 
 
 " All gone home long ago, Nora," replied Mrs. Hubert. 
 
 " Then for pity's sake let us go too ! This is no place for 
 us to remain in ! How kind you are to question me only with 
 your eyes ! But tired as I am, I am willing to tell you all our 
 adventures before I sleep, if my poor frightened Frederic feels 
 strength enough left in him to drive to your house for an hour, 
 before he retreats to his own. 
 
AN ADJOURNMENT FOR EXPLANATION. 373 
 
 The whole party were, in truth, much too anxious to hear 
 all the mysteries of this strange evening explained to les^ve 
 them any memory of their fatigue, and they all drove together 
 to Berkeley-square though five strokes from the general's 
 repeater warned them that it was high time to go to rest. 
 " But who," said Mrs. Henderson, " could rest tiU this most 
 incomprehensible adventure is explained ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The breakiast in Berkeley-sqi*re was not an early one, but 
 there were other causes for this besides the lateness of the hour 
 at which the general and his lady had retired to rest, for General 
 Hubert, under all circumstances, was sure 'to be in his bath- 
 room by eight o'clock. Neither was it the protracted slumbers 
 of his kdy which retarded the morning meal ; for though on 
 this occasion he certainly left her fast asleep. 
 
 Her waking eyes had seen the light 
 
 long before the clock struck nine. But it sometimes happens 
 that bedrooms and dressing-rooms are used for. other purposes 
 than sleeping and dressing. 
 
 The first object which greeted the eyes of Mrs. Hubert as 
 she opened them, in consequence of her ears being invaded by 
 a gentle sound near her pillow, was her daughter Elizabeth in 
 her robe de chamhre, with her beautiful hair all collected in one 
 nymph-hke roU at the back of her smaH but finely-proportioned 
 head, and her fair face glowing with an expression of happiness 
 too vivid to suffer drowsy sleep to exist before it. 
 
 " Will you forgive me, mamma ? You have been waked by 
 a kiss. It is I who opened your shutters and drew your 
 curtains." 
 
 "Is it late, dearest?" said Mrs. Hubert, rousing herself 
 with the alertness of an alarmed conscience, fearful of having 
 kept a hungry party waiting for breakfast. ' " Make the tea, 
 Ehzabeth. Do not mind me — I shall be down very soon." 
 
 "But I don't want you to be down very soon, mamma,'' 
 replied Ehzabeth, laughing and blushing beautifully at the 
 same time. " I want to speak to you first. Let me be your 
 lady's maid to-day, may I? " 
 
 " Wilhngly, dear love ! " said her mother, accepting an 
 offered kiss, and, shrewdly suspecting the subject of the offered 
 conference, she wrapped a dressing-gown round her, slipped her 
 feet into her quilted satin shppers, and seating herself on the 
 sofa at the bottom of the bed, said, "Now, darhng, sit down 
 close beside me, and tell me all you have got to say." 
 
 " Not unless you will dress yourself, mamma." And going 
 to the proper receptacles of stockings and shoes, she found all 
 
874 THE WIDOW MAEEIED. 
 
 that -was needful and held them with pretty obsequiousness to 
 her mother's hand. 
 
 Mrs. Hubert looked up into the face of her daughter as she 
 took them ; but the fair conscious girl turned away from the 
 speaking glance, with that true femiuine shyness which 
 
 Would be wooed, and not unaought be won, 
 
 even to speak the words she had come expressly to utter. 
 
 There would have been something pretty to watch in the 
 struggle between this shyness, and the wish to disclose the secret 
 that was bursting from her lips, but on such an occasion a 
 mother's heart has no leisure for such speculations, and sympa- 
 thising with Ehzabeth, though she could not quite be said to 
 pity her, she threw her arm round her, and pressing her to her 
 bosom, exclaimed — 
 
 " Seymour loves you, Elizabeth ! and last night he told you 
 so. Is it not this you would disclose to me ? " 
 
 The only answer for a minute or two was a fond clinging 
 return of the embrace, and a shower of happy tears shed on the 
 maternal bosom. 
 
 " You guessed it, then ? " she said at length. " Ah, mamma ! 
 how cruelly we wronged him ! " 
 
 " I thank heaven for it, Elizabeth," replied her mother, "and 
 he may well forgive a wrong which had its origin in such feel- 
 ings as ours towards him." 
 
 " Oh yes, mamma ! he is quite aware of that.' I do not be- 
 lieve he is at aU inclined to complain of that or of anything else. 
 Papa will be so kind as to see him this afternoon, wiU he not ? " 
 
 " And why not this morning, Ehzabeth ? " 
 
 "I don't know, mamma. Henry said the afternoon." 
 
 " I suppose he must have some business, then, for of course 
 he must be very anxious to see your father." 
 
 '.' He is very anxious, my dear mother, and very anxious to 
 see you too," replied Elizabeth, in a pleading tone. " Indeed, 
 indeed, you must never suspect him again of feeling anything 
 that he ought not to feel." 
 
 From this point the conversation proceeded with about equal 
 pleasure to both parties, and it was not till a multitude of plea- 
 sant things had been said and listened to, that Mrs. Hubert 
 stopped the course of them by exclaiming, " I am very glad, 
 Ehzabeth, that this explanation took place between you last 
 night ! I should have felt more perfectly ashamed of our suspi- 
 cions, I think, than I do now, if the first removal of them from 
 your mind had been produced by an event of which you are stiU 
 both ignorant, instead of by the much more agreeable mode of 
 his confessing his affection for you." 
 
 " What event, mamma ? " demanded Elizabeth. 
 
 " Our unfortunate cousin Patty eloped last night from her 
 father's house," replied Mrs. Hubert., 
 
A PROPOSAL CONSIDERED. 375 
 
 " Oh, mother ! Have I not reason to be glad that I had 
 courage enough to go to the party last night ? You know not — 
 oh ! you can never know how I dreaded it ! But I thought it 
 was right — I thought it was less weak, less indelicate than 
 remaining at home to weep over departed hopes, which I then 
 thought I must have had no right to form. Had I yielded to 
 this weakness, mother, might it not have been said, that he only 
 proposed to me because he had lost her?" 
 
 " I don't know, my dear," replied her mother, laughing ; " it 
 is strange how much darkness may be dispelled by one little 
 gleam of light. It now seems to me to have been so perfectly 
 absurd in us all to imagine for a moment that Henry Seymour 
 could be in love with Patty O'Donagough, that the idea no 
 longer appears admissible. But what I might have thought 
 without this gleam of light, I know not." 
 
 " I wish' mamma," said Elizabeth, " that you would tell 
 papa what has happened before I see him at breakfast. You are 
 all but dressed now: may I send Claridge to tell him that you 
 wish to see him in your dressing-room ? " 
 
 " And why not tell him yourself, dearest ? " 
 
 " Because I do not like to see him again till he knows aU." 
 
 " Well, then, send Claridge to him." 
 
 It was with feelings of happiness as pure and unmixed as 
 those of her young daughter, that Mrs. Hubert communicated 
 to her husband the disclosure which had been made to her ; but 
 to her very great disappointment, he shook his head ominously 
 as he hstened to her. 
 
 " My dearest Hubert ! Are you not pleased by this iiews ? " 
 Baid she, looking anxiously in his face. " I trust in heaven that 
 you know nothing against this young man, for that our Eliza- 
 beth's happiness depends upon him is most certain." 
 
 " Agnes 1" he replied, "I doubt if I have feelings of much 
 stronger partiality towards my own sons, than I have felt to- 
 wards Sir Henry Seymour. I have liked and loved the boy 
 from childhood upwards ; and though from a feeling of respect 
 for Sir Edward I never uttered the opinion, I blamed much less 
 than I sympathised with the feelings of the ardent young man 
 when he rebelled against the authority which insisted upon his 
 submitting to a routine of education for which he was not fitted. 
 Therefore I freely allow that all the ill-behaviour of which we 
 heard so much before he re-appeared from his self-banishment, 
 has left no painful impression on my mind whatever. No, Agnes, 
 it is what has happened since that has displeased me. As to the 
 idea that Henry Seymour intended to marry our red-cheeked 
 young cousin, I never entertained it for a moment, but that he 
 has paid her a very unwarrantable degree of attention I do be- 
 lieve J and this, whether it proceeded from fun or fondness, ia 
 
376 THE WIDOW MAHEIED. 
 
 equally at variance with the character I should desire to find in 
 the husband of Elizabeth." 
 
 " I should agree with you perfectly, Hubert, did I believe 
 it. But what better authority have we for this unwarrantable 
 degree of attention, than for Lord Mucklebury's history of the 
 intended marriage ? If you reject the one, I cannot understand 
 how you can receive the other." 
 
 "Because in the one case I have no proof, nor ever had 
 any, beyond vague report, while ia the other I have the evidence 
 of Sir Edward." 
 
 " On what occasion, Hubert ?" 
 
 " The occasion to which I particularly allude occurred but 
 yesterday. You know he was detained at St. James's till long 
 after you left it, and iu coming away he saw Sir Henry Seymour 
 and Miss O'Donagough arm iu arm and tete-a-tete at the bottom 
 of the staircase, as no lady and gentleman could possibly be seen 
 without drawing upon themselves a degree of observation that 
 Sir Henry Seymour ought to have been desirous to avoid.'' 
 
 " Believe me, Montagu, I can explain all that to you ;" and 
 Mrs. Hubert described with the most graphic truth Sir Henry's 
 enforced surrender of herself and daughter in consequence of 
 the manoeuvreing of Mrs. O'Donagough. " I confess," she 
 added, " that at the time I was very angry with him, because it 
 seemed to me that no man could feel Mmself obliged to yield 
 such very civil acquiescence to any arrangement that did not 
 accord with his inclination. But surely the declaration of last 
 night is sufficient to convince us that it was no partiality of any 
 kind for Miss O'Donagough which induced him to yield to my 
 unfortunate aunt's attack upon him." 
 
 " After all that has passed between us on the subject, my 
 dearest Agnes, you wiU not think me too completely a convert' 
 to the opinions of Aunt Betsy, if I confess to you that what I 
 most object to iu the biisiness is Sir Henry Seymour's having 
 any acquaintance at all with the O'Donagoughs, or Aliens, 
 or whatev6r their real names may be. The case was far dif- 
 ferent with us, dear love, when Mrs. Compton blamed us so 
 severely for our civilities to them at Brighton. In our case the 
 alternative was a rude and almost cruel avoidance of a very near 
 relation ; but no such apology can be offered in the case of Sey- 
 mour. In the highest paroxysm of her displeasure. Aunt Betsy 
 never suspected either of us of seeking their society from prefer- 
 ence. We, however, can by no possibility assign any other 
 cause for the familiar intercourse which has unquestionably 
 existed between them and Sir Henry. I have never encountered 
 this wretch O'Donagough Allen anywhere without his alluding 
 to Seymour's having recently dined with him. - More than once 
 I have questioned the young man, with as great an air of in- 
 difference as I could assume, to ascertain whether the statement 
 were true or not ; and though he certainly stammered, , and 
 
PROBATION OP LOVE. 377 
 
 coloured, and looked very heartily ashamed (wliieh in my judg- 
 ment by no means made the matter better), he never denied 
 that it was true. I do not like this, Agnes. It shows a species 
 of coarseness, or at best of indifference in the selection of ac- 
 quaintance, which your EHzabeth, dearest, is as little likely to 
 relish as her sweet mother." 
 
 Mrs. Hubert sighed deeply. There was too much apparent 
 truth in these painful observations for her to attempt to reason 
 them away, yet 'she felt that if they were to be the means of 
 separating Sir Henry and EUzabeth, they would bring a degree 
 of certain misery greatly disproportidned to their importance. 
 As usual, her husband seemed to read her thoughts, for he added 
 immediately, " Do not, however, fancy, my dear love, that I 
 have any desire to separate these young hearts. It would be 
 making poor Henry pay a heavier penalty for Ms folly than it 
 deserves, but I think you will agree with me in advocating a 
 longer period of probation and delay than would have been 
 necessary had there been no such symptoms of levity. The ad- 
 ventures of last night, of all which he is probably still ignorant, 
 will assist pretty affectuaUy in opening his eyes to the character 
 of his strangely chosen friends. Let not our dear girl have her 
 feelings wounded by a single word of aU this." 
 
 The breakfast, at which the young Emily and her good 
 governess were present, passed off as such agitaling meetings 
 should always be permitted to do. A look, a smile, a silent kiss, 
 said all that it was necessary to say, and when it was ended 
 Ehzabetk retired to her own room, astonished at her own com- 
 posure, and capable of enjoying without any drawback whatever, 
 the dear delight of meditating for the first time with the pri- 
 vileged freedom of sanctioned love upon the unspeakable happi- 
 ness that awaited her. 
 
 When General Hubert and his wife were again left alone, 
 Elizabeth and Sir Henry were for a moment forgotten, while 
 they discussed together the terrible discoveries' of the previous 
 night. The testimony of Mrs. Stephenson and Miss Peters was 
 too clear to leave the slightest doubt respecting the character of 
 the man with whom "the widow Barnaby" had connected 
 herself, nor had they either of them any doubt that he was in 
 truth the identical Major AUen who had 
 
 caused them both so great annoy, 
 
 nineteen long years ago at CHfton. It wanted no warning 
 voice from aunt Betsy to awaken the general to the necessity 
 of separating himself and his family now and for ever, from all 
 intercourse with so infamous a personage. But he half fright- 
 ened the gentle Agnes, by telling her that he was expecting 
 Frederic Stephenson to call upon hitn for the express purpose of 
 paying a visit in Curzon-street. 
 
 " We mean to tell him," said the general, "that we recom- 
 
378 THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 mend his immediately taking measures to leave the covmtry, in 
 order to avoid the dangers of a legal process which would be 
 very likely to terminate in his being obliged to do so in a much 
 less agreeable way." 
 
 " Woiild it not be better, Hubert, to leave him to his own 
 devices ? " said his wife. 
 
 " No, Agnes ; not in this country at least. He cannot be 
 permitted to remain here after the double discovery of last night. 
 Frederic is extremely anxious that he should be off immediately, 
 for as long as he remains in the country, he wiU be living in 
 dread of liis wife's being called into a court of justice, to give 
 evidence of the fraud of which she was a witness. Miss Peters 
 too will hve under the same terror, aad indeed, Agnes, I think 
 it desirable, for all our sakes, that he should leave England, as 
 early and as quietly as possible." 
 
 " You cannot doubt my being of the same opinion, Montagu," 
 rephed Mrs. Hubert. " I only dreaded for you the extremely 
 disagreeable operation of telling him so." 
 
 " Fear not for that, Agnes. The visit will be a very short 
 one, depend upon it. Besides the real motive, we have the 
 ostensible one, you know, of inquiring if they have received any 
 news of Miss O'Donagough." 
 
 Mr. Stephenson was punctual to his appointment, and the 
 two gentlemen set out together for Curzon-street. To the 
 question, " Is Mr. O'Donagough at home ? " the answer given 
 was, " No, sir," short and decided. 
 
 " Is Mrs. O'Donagough at home? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir," was the hesitating reply. 
 
 " Be so good as to teU her that a gentleman wishes to see 
 her on very particular business." 
 
 " Please to walk in, sir," said the small and incautious page, 
 opening the dining-room door for them, and then galloping up 
 the stairs. 
 
 " We had better follow him, Frederic, or the affair will be 
 endless," suggested the general. 
 
 " I agree with you," answered his companion ; and before the 
 little page had half deUvered his message. General Hubert and 
 Mr. Stephenson were in the room. 
 
 The business which had brought them there was more hkely 
 to arrive at a speedy conclusion than they had hoped for, when 
 they entered it, for greatly to their surprise they found assem- 
 bled in the second drawing-room, a group consisting of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Allen O'Donagough, their daughter, the yellow gentleman 
 with black mustache and whiskers, and the two foithful 
 Perkinses besides. 
 
 " I will not apologise for disturbing you, Major Allen," said 
 General Hubert, advancing, " though I did not expect to find 
 you here when I entered. The business which brings us here is 
 yours, and not our own, and cannot, as I think you will allow, 
 
ALIASES. 379 
 
 be considered as an intrusion. But it may perhaps be more 
 agreeable to you to converse with us in another room ? " 
 
 Major Allen measiired his two visitors with his eye, and 
 then threw a glance towards the Don ; but whatever his first 
 thoughts might have been, his second, which are proverbially the 
 best, induced him to rise from his chair and with a very digni- 
 fied demeanour to marshal General Hubert and Mr. Stephenson 
 into the next room, the eventful scene of the last night's misad- 
 ventures. Nay, he even moved his hand in token that they 
 might be seated ; but this hospitable notification did not appear 
 to be noticed, for neither gentleman accepted it. 
 
 " My business with you, sir," said the general, " need not 
 detain us long. A very disagreeable accident made a lady, for 
 whom both this gentleman and myself are nearly interested, the 
 witness to a most nefarious transaction in which you were the 
 principal agent. It has also come to our knowledge that you 
 are the same person who many years since at Clifton was im- 
 phoated under the appellation of Major Allen in a transaction 
 which, if I mistake not, caused you to be sent out of the 
 country. Perhaps, sir, as a citizen, I should be doing my duty 
 better by mentioning these facts to a police magistrate ; but I 
 wish, from motives purely selfish, I confess, that you should now 
 leave England by your own act, instead of that of the legis- 
 lature. But this, if done' at all, must be done promptly. A 
 very short time will probably render it too late. Are you ready, 
 sir, to give me an assurance that you wiU depart immediately ? 
 If not, or if hereafter I should find such assurance falsified, I 
 shall feel myseK obliged, however reluctantly, to obtain the same 
 object by a process that will not depend upon yourself." 
 
 Major Allen was, as usual, exceedingly well dressed, and his 
 wig, greatly relaxed in its wavy outhne since he made his first 
 re-appearance at Brighton, was a perfect model for the head of 
 a middle aged man of fashion. Though his visitors stood, he 
 had seated himself in a deep arm-chair, and assumed/ the atti- 
 tude rather of one who was passing judgment, than receiving it. 
 During the greater part of General Hubert's address to him, 
 his coxmtenance might have been studied in vain for any ex- 
 pression indicative of what was passing within, but at its con- 
 clusion a mocking smile took possession of his features, and 
 looking at each gentleman steadily in the fece for a minute or 
 two, he said — 
 
 " I am reaUy too happy in finding that my nearest con- 
 nections and myself agree so entirely respecting the little expe- 
 riment in steam navigation for which I am preparing. Pray, 
 sir (to General Hubert), remember me very affectionately to my 
 charming niece Agnes, and beheve me to be your very obedient 
 humble servant, John William Patrick AUen O'Donagough." 
 A strong emphasis was laid upon the last word, for the purpose, 
 probably, of making his auditors understand that he was aware 
 
OOU THE WIDOW MARRIED. 
 
 of and appreciated the privilege by ■which every man has a right 
 to designate himself by any appellation he may choose to select. 
 
 Having uttered this speech, he permitted himself the auda- 
 cious gratification of another steady stare at them both ; 
 and then, rising with an air of great hauteur and delibera- 
 tion, stalked through his favourite side door, and closed it 
 after him. 
 
 Convinced that the business upon which they came was 
 satisfactorily executed, the two gentlemen were too well pleased 
 by knowing that it was over to feel any inclination to quarrel 
 with the manner of their reception. After a moment's consul- 
 tation, they agreed that it would be better to visit the unfor- 
 tunate Mrs. Allen O'Donagough, for whom they felt much 
 compassion, a civil " good morning," and therefore prepared to 
 make their retreat by passing through the room by which they 
 had entered. 
 
 No symptom, however, of any feelings which called for 
 compassion seemed to exist amidst the party they once more 
 came upon. Mrs. Allen O'Donagough was lying at full lengtJi 
 upon a sofa, squeezed in at the foot of which perched Miss 
 Louisa Perkins. In full view of the weU-pleased maternal 
 eye, upon another sofa, sat the yellow gentleman, and Patty 
 extremely close beside him, her arm lovingly thrown round 
 his neck ; while the fair Matilda, with eyes full of very me- 
 lancholy tenderness, and her tall figure sustaining itself against 
 the mantel-piece, stood watching them. 
 
 General Hubert was about to utter something like a 
 friendly farewell, but Mrs. AHen O'Donagough gave him no 
 time for it. 
 
 " You arc making us an early wedding visit, I must say, gen- 
 tlemen — but it is all very right and proper between near rela- 
 tions. Give me leave to introduce to you my married daughter, 
 Madame Espartero Christinino Salvator Mundi Tornorino." 
 These names she read from a paper ingeniously attached by a 
 couple of pins to a cushion of the sofa that was exactly within 
 reach of her eye. " You see, general, I have had the good for- 
 tune to marry my daughter before you have married yours — 
 and to a man of extremely high rank too. Permit me to 
 
 present to you 1 beg pardon, permit me to present you to 
 
 Don Espartero Christinino Salvator Mundi Tornorino, my son- 
 in-law. Neither you nor Frederic Stephenson have any title, 
 you know, and therefore it is, of course, proper that you should 
 be presented to him, and not he to you. I am sure I heartily 
 hope that my great niece Elizabeth may do as well. 
 
 " But, by-the-by, general, I think it is but fair to give you 
 a hint about that young scamp, Henry Seymour. It's no thanks 
 to him if my daughter is married to a man of title and quality 
 — ^it would have been all the same if his false-heartedness had 
 driven her to marry a mere nobody, which, with my high spirit 
 
CONFESSION OF AN ESCAPADE. 881 
 
 and exalted feelings, would certainly have broke my heart. 
 But it is not only his abominable falsehood in love-making that 
 I think it right to mention — I wish also to let you know that 
 there is a secret which he has taken the greatest of alj possible 
 care should never come to any of your ears. You none of you 
 guess, I believe, that the young scapegrace was off to Australia 
 when his penitent fool of a guardian thought he had shut him- 
 self up somewhere, all in the dumps, because of their quarrel? 
 When we were good friends, together, he told us all about it, 
 and if he had behaved as he ought to have done, I would never 
 have said a word to anybody on the subject — but he has pro- 
 voked me, I won't deny it." 
 
 " How did you find out he had been to Australia, Mrs. 
 O'Donagough? " demanded the general. "Did you get ac- 
 quainted with him there ? " 
 
 " No, not I, general — but I know it just as well as if I had, 
 for we all came to England in the same ship." 
 
 " And it was then that you became acquainted with him?" 
 
 " Yes, to be sure it was." 
 
 "Now, then, madam," said the well-contented General 
 Hubert, " we will wish you good morning," and with a slight 
 bow to the whole party, the two gentlemen turned to leave the 
 room. 
 
 " I say ! " cried Madame Espartero Christinino Salvator 
 Mundi Tornoriuo, calling after them, " don't you forget to tell 
 my cousin Elizabeth what a famous lark I have had. She must 
 be sure to come and pay me a wedding visit." 
 
 * , * * * * 
 
 On returning to Berkeley-square, General Hubert found his 
 wife and daughter very anxiously gazing upon the outside of a 
 large packet which had been just left at the door by the servant 
 of Sir Henry Seymour. Rightly guessing that it contained a 
 confession of the exploit of which he had just learnt the parti- 
 culars from Mrs. O'Donagough, he fearlessly opened it in their 
 presence. It contained more than one sheet of closely- written 
 paper, and detailed at length, and with very amiable penitence, 
 the history of his escapade, the rebellious feelings which had led 
 to it, the very unpleasant acquaintance that it had entailed upon 
 him, and lastly, with all the eloquence of deep feeling, it ex- 
 plained how his ardent love for the general's lovely daughter 
 had rendered galling the idea of appearing more wild and ill- 
 conducted in the eyes of her family than he had yet done, and 
 induced him to endure the martyrdom of propitiating the good 
 will of Mr. O'Donagough in order to secure has secresy. 
 
 " Then Sir Henry, it seems, has not taken more pleasure in 
 the acquaintance than ourselves. General Hubert," said Agnes, 
 ■with a very happy smile. 
 
 " Thank heaven that I know it ! " he replied, joyously. " And 
 now, my sweet EUzabeth," he added, fondly embracing his 
 
382 THE WIDOW MAERIED. 
 
 blusBing daughter, " I can tell you with a safe conscience that 
 T know not another to whom I could resign the charge of mak- 
 ing you happy, with so firm a conviction that the precious trust 
 ■^ould be,executed faithfully." 
 
 Who needs be told that the young Elizabeth's bridal was a 
 gay one ? When it was known as a certainty that the Allen 
 O'Donagough family, together with their illustrious son-in-law, 
 were actually departed for the United States, Mrs. Hubert ven- 
 tured to write a full, true, and particular account of aU their 
 recent adventures to her aunt, Mrs. Elizabeth Compton ; 
 announcing at the same time that her company was earnestly 
 entreated at the approaching wedding, and assuring her that 
 she should meet there no nieces but such as she had too long 
 honoured with her love, for them to feel any doubts as to her 
 pleasure at a reunion. 
 
 The delight of the still active old lady on receiving this letter 
 was great indeed. She could not have died happy, and she 
 knew it, so long as " the Bamaby" was an inhabitant of the 
 same land as the Huberts. A dread of mischief and disgrace 
 arising from the incongruous connection perpetually haunted her, 
 and in so serious a shape as very materially to disturb her tran- 
 quillity. But she now felt that the danger was over for ever, 
 and immediately wrote an acceptance of the joyous, invitation, 
 in a tone of heartfelt happiness that caused tears of pleasure to 
 dim for a moment the beautiful eyes of the bride elect. 
 
 Of all the guests assembled at those splendid nuptials, there 
 was not one, perhaps, who excite^ so universal a degree of interest 
 as herself — all sought to do the venerable and animated old lady 
 honour, and no one could receive their honours more gaily, or 
 more gracefully, giving throughout the whole day but one 
 slight indication that she stOl could be a little mischievous, if , 
 she chose it, and that was by whispering in the general's ear, 
 when Emily was assisting in distributing the wedding-cake after 
 breakfast, " Do you mean to send any wedding-cake across the 
 Atlantic, dear general?" 
 
 IHE BSD. 
 
 PEIKTED BY PliTTER ASD GALriH, t-A BJiLLE SaDVAGE TARD, LUDCATE HILlt. 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR5699.T3W6 1857 
 
 The widow married; a sequel to "The widow 
 
 3 1924 013 566 140