Frora tke Library or 
 
 ANNE RENIER 
 
 and 
 
 EG. RENIER 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive 
 in 2010 witli funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 Iittp://www.arcliive.org/details/villagebellesnov01mann 
 
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 J>A 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 BALDWIN AND CRADOCK, PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
 1833. 
 
O. WOODFALL, angft. court, ski.v.ver street, London. 
 
 m 
 

 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. Births, Marriages, and Deaths 1 
 
 II. Domestic Distresses 18 
 
 III. The Vicar's Menage 23 
 
 IV. Absent without leave 39 
 
 V. Female Accomplishments 51 
 
 VI. A Bachelor's Tea Table 62 
 
 VII. An A. R. A 83 
 
 VIII. A Sudden Convert 101 
 
 IX. A Village Soiree 10? 
 
 X. Drawing Lessons Gratis 146 
 
 XI. Painting Al Fresco 170 
 
 XII. A Tea Party under a Walnut Tree 192 
 
 XIII. Nut-Cracking 208 
 
 XIV. Suspicious Appearances 220 
 
 XV. Civil Impertinences 228 
 
 XVI. A Day of Pleasure 243 
 
 XVII. Effects of Cold Bathing 287 
 
 XVIII. All in the Wron? 302 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page 3, line 12, for Mr. read Mrs. 
 
 S, 1(5, and elsewhere, ybr Heeley read Hexley. 
 
 19, 21, yoj- impatiently read implicitly. 
 
 41, -■ 11, dde as. 
 
 87, last line, dde not. 
 135, line 20, for graves read quavers. 
 
 162, 1 1, ^or gleaming read glancing. 
 
 173, 16,ybr Tableau vivante read Tableau vivant. 
 
 187, — — 16,ybr am read are. 
 
 199, 21} for rock read nook. 
 
 221, I) for there read here, 
 
 281, - — 16,yor reluctingly read relentingly. 
 
TILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS. 
 
 The youngest of the two Miss Parkinsons, of Park 
 Place, amazingly disobliged her family by mar- 
 rying the Reverend Henry WeUford, vicar of 
 Summerfield, who had nothing on earth but good 
 looks, good qualities, and foiu: hundred and fifty 
 pounds a year to recommend him. Alas! how 
 did her father storm and rage, how did her mother 
 fume and fret, how did aunt Diana congratulate 
 herself that she had settled her thirty thousand 
 pounds on Hannah her eldest niece, how did the 
 aforesaid Hannah sneer and observe " she had 
 thought how it would end," and how did the 
 good folks of Stoke Barton stare and sigh and 
 shake their heads, and bless heaven that no poor 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 vicar had ever fallen in love with any of their 
 daughters ! Catherine Parkinson, who had refused 
 Sir Robert Bosanquet ! Henry Wellford, who 
 might have had rich Miss Trotter for asking! So 
 unadvised of both parties — nobody was surprised 
 at old Mr. Parkinson's shutting his doors for ever 
 against the young couple ; or wasted much 
 thought on the fate of the fine young man and 
 the beautiful girl after the first excitement of 
 astonishment was over, except Dr. Pennington, 
 the rector of Stoke Barton; and ]ie was second 
 cousin to Henry Wellford, so no wonder! 
 
 Miss Hannah, having exhausted her spleen on 
 the subject of her sister Kate's imprudent match, 
 found herself in her twenty-ninth year on the 
 verge of old-maidism, with 
 
 ' Nobody coming to marry her, 
 Nobody coming to woo ;' — 
 
 not even a poor vicar; and the subject was begin- 
 ning to give her considerable uneasiness, when 
 her father's heir-at-law, Mr. James Parkinson, 
 who for many years had regularly visited Park 
 Place in the shooting season, came down for the 
 express purpose of making her an offer. He was 
 
VILLAGE BELLBS. 3 
 
 only too good for her, being cheerful, personable, 
 and easy-tempered. The gentleman was ac- 
 cepted, the marriage celebrated with all conve- 
 nient speed; and the wedded pair went steadily 
 through all the gradations customary in the hyme- 
 neal state — exactly in the inverse order of those 
 to be found in a sonata. First they were " bril- 
 lante," and even when the wedding clothes gi-ew 
 dirty, continued " allegro," then sank into " alle- 
 gretto," next to "moderato" — then came "a-ca- 
 priccio," and at length a monotonous " andante," 
 enlivened only by a few of Mr. James Parkinson's 
 bursts " a furore." To say truth, if it had not 
 been for the gentleman's imperturbable good hu- 
 mour, her peevish, fractious temper would have 
 been unbearable ; and as it was, they went on like 
 two performers on the piano-forte playing sepai'ate 
 airs by way of duet — he, in calm serenity, jog- 
 ging on with "Just like Love" in the bass, while 
 she in another key, and with shrill vehemence, 
 was running up and down the indignant scales of 
 " Trifler, forbear ! " in the treble. 
 
 The mind turns with pleasure from this matri- 
 monial concert to the neglected young pair in 
 Summeriield vicarage. Catherine Wellford, per- 
 
 B 2 
 
4 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 fectly satisfied with the companion and station 
 she had chosen for hfe, yet felt a httle natural 
 compunction at having dared to make herself 
 happy in opposition to the will of those whom 
 nature had constituted her arbiters. She endea- 
 voured, therefoi'e, to atone for her breach of filial 
 obedience by humble letters to her parents ; but 
 as they remained true to that inflexibility of 
 purpose which, exercised in daily minutiae, had 
 in a great measure driven their daughter fi'om her 
 home, she at length abstained fi'om appeals which 
 she found to be useless. 
 
 Nothing could be much less inviting than the 
 first appearance of Summerfield vicarage. It was 
 a small, dull-looking, red -brick building, such as 
 may often be seen inhabited by the ci(7'es of the 
 French provinces, having a little inverted battle- 
 ment-like brickAVork ornament, — stay, what is the 
 architectural word ? dentils — a rowof squai'e teeth, 
 as it were, running along the front ; a tiled roof, 
 and heavy latticed windows with deep seats ; an 
 ungainly looking house, in short, but one which 
 like some plain women, might be rendered attrac- 
 tive by dress and decoration. A smoky parlour 
 on one side of the hall or passage, a small study 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 on the other, kitchen and et ceteras behind, stairs 
 up and down at every comer, and four oddly 
 shaped bedrooms above. The garden, separated 
 from the churchyard by a ruinous pahng, vras 
 filled on one side with potatoes," on the other with 
 cauliflowers run to seed ; and the walks were ver- 
 dant with moss. Such was the home to which 
 Henry Wellford, who had only been presented to 
 the vicarage just before his maniage, brought the 
 young bride who had hitherto been accustomed to 
 every comfort except that of kindness. AVithout 
 complaining of their lot, they immediately set 
 about the improvement of the face of things 
 around them. The paiiour chimney was cured of 
 smoking, the walls were papered, book-shelves and 
 curtains put up, the garden walks cleared, ever- 
 greens planted, and the palings mended and paint- 
 ed. Having made this promising beginning, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wellford had leisure to study each 
 other's characters and those of their neighbours. 
 Henry found his wife possessed of an ardent, en- 
 quiring mind which had hitherto been little culti- 
 vated, and a disposition which not even con- 
 stant irritation had been able to spoil, prone to 
 repent of its hasty en-ors, and full of charity and 
 
6 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 melting kindness. In each other's society they 
 felt no weariness, but neither of them was of a 
 temper so fastidious as to turn with distaste from 
 those among whom Providence had placed them, 
 because tlieu- habits were less refined than their 
 own. Almost immediately opposite the church, 
 in a residence known as Okely Park, and which 
 only reqmred better keeping up to make it rank 
 as a handsome country seat, lived old Lady Wor- 
 ral. The only two houses with sash windows in 
 the village were tenanted, the one by Mr. Good 
 the apothecary, the other by Mr. Greenway, a re- 
 tired schoolmaster. Farmer Holland, the happy 
 parent of three bouncing daughters, occupied a 
 substantial dwelling in the midst of his corn-fields, 
 about half a mile from Summerfield. The re- 
 maining population consisted of tradespeople and 
 peasantry, who received the conciliatory visits of 
 the new vicar and his wife with civility and gi-ati- 
 tude. On nearer acquaintance witli the superior 
 class of their neighbours, they discovered that old 
 Lady "Worral was busy and interfering, eccentric 
 in her dress and blunt in her manners ; Mr. and 
 Mrs. Good the best people in the world ; Mr. 
 Greenway a martyr to the rheumatism, and his 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 7 
 
 wife a fetcher and carrier of other people's observ- 
 ations; Fanner Holland a complete John Bull, 
 with his joke and tankard ; and the three Miss 
 Hollands handsome, cheerful, and bustling. Young 
 Mrs. Wellford was at first rather annoyed by the 
 constant supervision of her titled neighbour ; for 
 old Lady Worral was always popping in upon 
 her, in the garden, the parlour, or the kitchen ; but 
 she soon ceased to care whether she was caught 
 in a coarse apron, or a gown pulled through the 
 pocket hole, shelling peas or making a j)udding ; 
 for Lady Worral had no notion of a "parson's 
 wdfe sticking up to be a fine lady." Indeed the 
 character of a fine lady was the object of her su- 
 preme contempt; for though she piqued herself 
 much on her ancient birth, "being descended 
 fi*om the De Bameville that went on the first cru- 
 sade," yet she considered it no degradation ol 
 her dignity to check her steward's accounts, look 
 after her turkeys, scold the village children, and 
 give Mrs. Wellford a receipt by word of mouth 
 for that " heterogeneous combination of culinary 
 ingredients" ycleped a hodge-podge. 
 
 The defunct Sir John Worral had been some- 
 thing of a humourist. " Knowledge is power," 
 
» VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 said he, " the power of making one's self disagree- 
 able." That he might not make himself disagree- 
 able, he never opened a book after he became his 
 own master ; but devoted himself to the gratifica- 
 tion of an extraordinary passion for bell-ringing. 
 At first he used to practise in the parish church, 
 but his constant 23eals disturbing the studies or 
 the slumbers of* Mr. Wellford's predecessor, a 
 quaiTel ensued between baronet and vicar, and 
 Sir John set up an opposition belfry in his own 
 grounds. Here he and his men servants amused 
 themselves many a long hour ; ding-donging the 
 good people of Summerfield out of their senses, 
 and wearing Mr. Greenway to a thread with low 
 spirits, except when a north wind carried the noise 
 to Heeley and nearly put a stop to the business of 
 the place. Sometimes they pealed, at other times 
 they tolled ; at length. Death, out of patience at so 
 much tolling without any burials, took off Sir 
 John. His relict sold the bells, and the campa- 
 nile fell into decay. 
 
 Mrs. Wellford, from her cheerful, complying dis- 
 position, became a gi'eat favourite with the old 
 dowager ; a character which entailed on her so 
 much vexatious interference that she was often 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 9 
 
 led to regret its attainment, and could only be re- 
 conciled to it by the reflection that Lady WoiTal, 
 whom no affront could possibly force into indig- 
 nant silence, would be ten times more noisily 
 troublesome as an enemy than as a patronizing 
 friend. She wondered that Henry appeared in- 
 sensible to the annoyance, and was often momen- 
 tarily provoked at the hearty cordiality of his 
 " My dear Lady Wonal, how kind of you to look 
 in upon us with so little ceremony ! " Men have 
 small sympathy with female vexations at being 
 caught mending shirts or dressed in ginghams. 
 
 Beyond these trials, Mrs. Wellfurd had few that 
 do not fall to the lot of every housekeeper with a 
 limited income and increasing lamily. She had 
 occasionally a little difficulty in making both ends 
 meet, but her husband smilingly reminded her 
 that they were better off" than Dr. Johnson's 
 country friend, who brought up nine children on 
 apple dumplings. Her boys and girls throve ad- 
 mirably on their plam fare ; and often did the 
 traveller, whom the beauty of the scenery had al- 
 lured to pass through Summeriield, pause to gaze 
 on the picturesque gi'oup of healthy urchins hang- 
 
 B 3 
 
10 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 ing over tlie churchyard paUngs, or riding a rough - 
 coated donkey in the adjoining shadowy lanes. 
 
 The news of old Mrs, Parkinson's death was 
 communicated to her daughter through the friendly 
 medium of Dr. Pennington, who had often un- 
 successfully attempted to obtain a mitigation of 
 the parental sentence. In less than a twelve- 
 month, old Mr. Parkinson followed his wife to the 
 grave ; and Hannah, after a fourteen years' silence, 
 condescended to announce the misfortune to her 
 sister. " There is no mention of you," she wrote, 
 " in his will ; but as he said that he forgave you 
 on his death -bed, I see no impropriety in writing 
 to you, and shall be glad to hear from you in re- 
 turn. Inclosed is a fifty pound note for your 
 mourning." 
 
 Mr. Wellford halted at the word " impropriety " 
 with an angry " pshaw ! " His wife, touched by 
 softened remembrances of home, was sure poor 
 Hannah meant kindly. She wiped away some 
 natural tears, and lost no time in answering her 
 sister's letter. The correspondence languished 
 between them, however, in spite of Mrs. Well- 
 ford's endeavours to keep it up ; and some months 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 11 
 
 had elapsed in silence wlien Mrs. Parkinson at 
 length wrote to the following effect. 
 
 Park Place, Stoke Barton, 
 May 20th. 
 
 DEAR SISTER, 
 
 I received yours of the 23d of February. 
 I am sorry to hear Mr. Wellford was troubled 
 with the tooth-ache when you wrote. Why does not 
 he try nut-gall ? Mr. Curtis says there's nothing 
 like it. " Don't tell me," says he, " of tooth-ache — 
 try nut-gall." Aunt Diana is much the same in 
 health as she used to be, but I think she ages very 
 much. For all her fresh looks, I should not be 
 surprised at her dropping off any day. Mr. 
 Parkinson is uncommon well, though very deaf. 
 As to myself, though I look clear, I'm always 
 ailing. I'm sure I haven't known what it is to 
 have a good night, I don't know how long. Mr. 
 Curtis says he tliinks I should be better for change 
 of scene, and I think so too, for I am sick of 
 Stoke Barton ; but Mr. Parkinson does not like 
 moving. I tell him he is an old man before his 
 time, for he is as fixed in all his ways, and as 
 much nailed to one place, as if he was seventy. 
 However, I don't know, if it came to the push, 
 
12 VILLAGE BELLES'. 
 
 whether I really could make up iny own mind to 
 stir, for there is so much vexation and trouble in 
 travelling ! and besides, I don't know who I could 
 comfortably leave behind, for Hawkins is uncom- 
 monly sly. There would be fine doings, I war- 
 rant. Open house-keeping, and what not. 
 
 I think it wear^ me a good deal hallooing to 
 Mr. Parkinson, for he can't heai- unless you raise 
 your voice quite sharp, and yet he's always saying 
 " don't speak so loud," and quite vexed to be 
 thought deaf. I'm sure I often think you are very 
 happy in having a large family about you; for 
 Mr. Parkinson, being so hard of hearing, is no 
 companion at all ; and aunt Diana, you know, was 
 never very entertaining. Do let one of your girls 
 come and stay with me. I think it would amuse 
 me ; and if I take a liking to her, it shan't be the 
 w"orse for her. The distance between us is only 
 forty miles, and as I suppose you have a man, he 
 will be quite a sufficient protection for her on the 
 road. I shoidd like my namesake best, but as 
 you say she is so useful to you, I suppose you 
 can't spare her, so let me have Rosina. Of course 
 I shall keep her in clothes ; and she will be in no 
 want of toys, as there are my old dominoes and 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 13 
 
 the doirs cradle that you may remember my poor 
 father gave me at Brighton, besides the swing at 
 the end of the wahiut-tree walk. The Penning- 
 tons are very neighbom'ly, and desired to be re- 
 membered to you when I wrote. The doctor, 
 that was such a well-looking man when I married, 
 is now stout and very red-faced, but the same high 
 spirits as ever. Mrs. Pennington, to my mind, is 
 too inde],cndent, almost insolent, I sometimes 
 think, though to be sure she was of a very good 
 family. The children are rude and noisy ; and 
 I am thankful our grounds are so large ; as, having 
 only a wall between them and the rectory garden, 
 I am sure if we were closer my poor head would 
 be split with their shouts of laughter. I think the 
 doctor does very wrong to encourage them as he 
 does in romping, noisy games. He'll rue it some 
 of these days, it's my opinion. Perhaps it will 
 give you some idea of my delicate health, (though 
 without any regular disorder,) when I tell you that 
 Mr. Curtis sees me eveiy day. 
 
 Compliments to Mr. Wellford, &c. 
 
 Your affectionate sister, 
 
 Hannah Parkinson. 
 
 Mr. Wellford had more than one sly laugh over 
 
14 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 this letter. " But really," interposed his sweet- 
 tempered wife, " poor Hannah is very much to be 
 pitied." , 
 
 " For having five thousand a-year, my dear, or 
 for having an apothecary that comes to see her 
 every day ? Which ? " 
 
 " Oh ! really now, Harry, you are too severe. 
 It is a misfortune for weak persons to have a 
 medical man who persuades them they cannot do 
 without him. Poor Hannah seems to be in very 
 ill health—" 
 
 " Though ' without any regular disorder,' my 
 dear ; remember the parenthesis." 
 
 " And then Mr. Parkinson's being so deaf — " 
 
 " Obliges his wife to wear out her lungs in 
 screaming to him ! — 
 
 " ' You are so very deaf, my dear ! 
 
 What sliall I do to make you hear ? ' " 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! — It is too bad of you, Mr. Well- 
 ford, to make me laugh. But, my dear, about the 
 important part of this letter " 
 
 " Ay, Mrs. Wellford, about the consignment of 
 one of your fair daughters ! Well, my dear ? " 
 
 "Well, my dear!" 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 15 
 
 The vicar drummed ou the table. His wife 
 looked very melancholy. 
 
 " As to parting with our Hannah," said she after 
 a pause, " that is, as my sister says, quite out of 
 the question. I could not possibly bear the sepa- 
 ration ; nor is she the sort of girl to be happy from 
 home." 
 
 " Besides, my dear, Hannah relieves you from 
 so many little fatigues, that I look upon her as 
 quite necessary for your comfort, in the present 
 state of your health. Nor should I know what to 
 do without my young companion. It is one of 
 my most exquisite pleasures to watch the deve- 
 lopement of her mind and assist in its culture." 
 
 " Rosina is too young to be removed from a 
 mother's eye." 
 
 " And too noisy to please a formal, fidgetty 
 aunt. Besides, I cannot lose my little romp." 
 
 " It will be much too hai'd a trial for us to part 
 with either of our girls. To be sure, if my sister 
 only wanted one of them for a month or so, we 
 might bear the pain of the separation for the sake 
 of affording pleasure, of which, poor thing, with 
 aU her fortune, she does not seem to have much at 
 
16 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 present ; — but, for an indefinite time ! There, you 
 see, is the rub." 
 
 At the word rub, Mr. Wellford began to rub his 
 knee somewhat uneasily ; and after a meditation 
 of full five minutes, he re-commenced the subject 
 with " The question in the present case, my dear 
 Kate, ought not so much to be what is most 
 agi'eeable to our oVn inclinations as what will be 
 for the future advantage of the children. So long 
 as I am spared to you, my income is sufficient for 
 our moderate wants : but on my death I shall be 
 able to leave you but a poor two hundred a-yeav, 
 which will scarcely suffice for your own mainten- 
 ance and that of our girls, while Matt and Harry 
 will need some friend to help them in struggling 
 through the world. Shall we then be quite justi- 
 fied in repelling the advances of a near relation 
 who has it in her power, should the time of need 
 arrive, to prove so valuable a friend to your chil- 
 dren?" 
 
 " Oh, Henry," said Mrs. Wellford sighing, " you 
 have placed the subject in so grave a point of 
 view!" 
 
 " And does not the establishment of a child 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 17 
 
 require grave consideration ? " asked her hus- 
 band. 
 
 " At any rate," rejoined she after sorrowfully 
 ruminating, " it must not be Hannah." 
 
 " Well then, let it be Rosina," he replied. 
 " They are equally dear to us, but E,osina is stout 
 and healthy, and well able to make her way in the 
 world. Shall I write to IMrs. Parkinson .? " 
 
 " No, my dear, there is no huny. I will write 
 by and by, or perhajis to-morrow, which will be 
 quite soon enough." 
 
 " Quite, quite, my dear love, and I am glad to 
 be excused from the task, as I must go to see poor 
 Betty Wilson, who is extremely ill." 
 
 Mrs. Wellford scarcely heard his parting words, 
 but a moment after he had quitted the house, she 
 recovered from her reverie, and desired one of her 
 little boys to run after his papa and inquire 
 whether he meant to drink tea at Mr. Greenway's 
 that evening. Her sister's letter had made her 
 forget the invitation. 
 
 HaiTy scampered back with an answer in the 
 affirmative, and Mrs. Wellford was soon intent on 
 household cares. 
 
18 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 DOIkfESTIC DISTRESSES. 
 
 The letter which was to decide the fate of Rosina 
 Wellford was not written for some time. Mr. 
 Wellford on the day following the discussion with 
 his wdfe, had a feverish attack, of which he at first 
 made light, but which became sufficiently serious 
 to confine him to the house. On the second day 
 of his illness, he grew so much worse that Mrs. 
 Wellford was alarmed and sent for Mr. Good, Avho 
 no sooner beheld his patient than he pronounced 
 his fever to have been caught of Betty Wilson, 
 and advised Mrs. Wellford to send her children 
 instantly beyond the reach of infection, offering to 
 receive them beneath his own roof. She thank- 
 fully accepted the proposal. Hannah, however, 
 now about thirteen years of age, earnestly im- 
 plored leave to remain as assistant nurse. She 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 19 
 
 had been in her father's room, she said, the whole 
 of the preceding day, had often held his fevered 
 hand in hers and felt his breath on her cheek ; 
 therefore in all probability had either taken the 
 infection already or was not liable to it. Mrs. 
 Wellford consented, and the affectionate girl took 
 her place at her father's bedside, held the cooling 
 draught to his lips and pressed his burning fore- 
 head with her soft, cool hand. When, after a de- 
 lirious night, he for a short time recovered his 
 senses, he seemed uneasy at her presence, and 
 asked why she was allowed to incur so much 
 danger ; but her gentle answer satisfied him, and 
 he soon was again insensible to any thing that 
 passed around him. Poor Mrs. Wellford, behold- 
 ing tlie rapid progress of the disorder, was so be- 
 wildered by grief as to be scarcely capable of act- 
 ing rationally ; while Hannah, pale as death, but 
 perfectly collected, moved to and fro with noiseless 
 steps, fumigated the room, administered the 
 medicines, and impatiently followed every direc- 
 tion which Mr. Good had given her mother in her 
 hearing. It was strange and beautiful to see so 
 young a girl made regardless of her own danger 
 by intense affection, and preserving through the 
 
20 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 very intensity of that affection, the self-possession 
 which enabled her to controul her tears and per- 
 form every necessary office with the steadiness of 
 an indifferent person. On the third day, Mr. Well- 
 ford breathed his last. He became sensible a 
 short time before his decease, murmured blessings 
 on his wife and daughter, and expired in their 
 arms. Hannah, whom the experience of a few 
 days seemed to have matured into excellence, 
 would now have abandoned herself to the wildest 
 gTief, had she not been awed into the restraint 
 of her feelings by the speechless agony of her 
 mother. All the simple arts of affection were 
 used by her to rouse Mrs. Wellford from the stu- 
 por of despair ; and when the unhappy widow 
 at length burst into tears, Hannah foimd relief in 
 sobbing on her bosom. 
 
 The loss of such a husband and father as Mr. 
 Wellford, was irreparable : if sym])athy could have 
 healed the affliction of his family, their tears would 
 scon have been \^-iped away, for every one loved 
 and pitied them. It was soon necessary to leave 
 the vicarage to make ^vay for Mr. Wellford's suc- 
 cessor ; and as Mrs. Wellford had no wish to quit 
 the neighbourhood, she took a large cottage in 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 21 
 
 good repair on the skirts of Summerfield, the low- 
 rent of which was proportioned to her diminished 
 means. It stood at the extremity of a pleasant 
 lane in the valley behind the church, and was ca- 
 pable of being made a pretty residence under ju- 
 dicious direction. The grief and the bustle of 
 mo\ang being once over, every thing in their new 
 home tended to subdue the son^ow of the widow 
 and orphans to that tone of quiet regret which 
 we would not, if we could, dismiss from our hearts 
 after the loss of an estimable object. A few days 
 after their establishment, the new vicar arrived, a 
 Mr. Russell, whom every body was sure before- 
 hand, they should dislike. This being the case, 
 no wonder that many invidious comparisons were 
 drawn, the first Sunday, between him and Mr. 
 Wellford. Mr. Greenway thought his seirmon too 
 flowery ; Mr. Good too argumentative ; while Miss 
 Margaret Holland pronounced it a quarter of an 
 hour too long; and Farmer Holland declared no- 
 thing but curiosity had prevented his falling asleep. 
 Phoebe Holland had some hopes of his proving a 
 man-ying man in more senses than one; and fi-om 
 deciding at the first glance that he was " at least 
 thirty,— oh, certainly, thirty or more," she gra- 
 
22 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 dually made more and more allowance for a staid 
 turn of countenance, and set him down for six or 
 seven and twenty. His person was pleasing, his 
 manners gentlemanly and quiet. Every one soon 
 liked him " very well," except the young Well- 
 fords, and perhaps their mother. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 23 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 THE vicar's menage. 
 
 When Lady Worral heard that Mrs. Wellford had 
 taken John Pearce's cottage at the end of the 
 blackthorn lane, she remarked that she feared the 
 poor woman would find her less neighbourly than 
 formerly, for that the hill, though very easy to 
 come- down, was mighty hard for her to cUmb up 
 again. Perhaps Mrs. Wellford might have already 
 derived a momentary satisfaction from the idea 
 that this would be the case, though we will not 
 sujjpose her to have chosen an abode in the valley 
 for the express purj^ose of freeing herself from an 
 interfering patroness ; and indeed, fourteen years 
 of intimacy had so habituated her to the old lady's 
 ways that she was not so sensible in this instance, 
 as many women might have been, of " the gain of 
 a loss." 
 
 Curiosity induced Lady Worral to brave the 
 
24 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 fatigue of the walk a few clays after the widow's 
 removal to the White Cottage, when she took oc- 
 casion to find fault with the colour of the parlour 
 walls, which she said might have been washed 
 with a good buff at half the expense. Green, in- 
 deed! There was too much green every where 
 round them already. Green hedges, green trees, 
 gi'een fields — one would think they had sore eyes; 
 and to be sure Mrs. Wellford's did look rather 
 blood-shot. Buff would have been cheaper, and 
 twice as cheerful. 
 
 Her ladyship took leave with a threat that she 
 should not be able to call again for some time. 
 However the morning after Mr. Russell's first 
 sermon, she could restrain herself no longer, and 
 posted down the lane to her old fi-iend and fa- 
 vourite. 
 
 " A very promising young man," said she, as 
 soon as she recovered her breath, " is our new 
 minister. He dined with me yesterday after ser- 
 vice, which 1 never could prevail on Mr. Wellford 
 to do, and extremely to the purpose was his con- 
 versation, I assure you. I have no doubt he will 
 do an amazing deal of good, and I am sm*e there 
 is enough need for it. John Barton, in particular, 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 25 
 
 is as hardened a sinner as ever lived, and your 
 poor liusband was not half sharp enough upon 
 hini. I took the opportunity of letting Mr. Rus- 
 sell into the characters of a great many of the most 
 incorrigible of his flock, and I am persuaded he 
 will lose no time in acting upon the hints I threw 
 out. Oh ! I've ways and means of finding out a 
 good deal that you would not give me credit for ! 
 The back window of my dressing-room, you know, 
 commands a view of the White Hart, and I always 
 make my Sally sit there at her work and tell me 
 what idle fellows go in and out. There are some 
 you would hardly suspect of drinking that pay 
 pretty long visits there three and four times a 
 week, squandering the money they ought to take 
 home to their families ! but I don't tell all I see to 
 every body, only keep it hanging over their heads. 
 How was it you weren't at church yesterday ? " 
 " 1 could not make up my mind to the effort." 
 " Why, you took courage the Sunday before. 
 To be sm-e, now that Mr. Russell is settled among 
 us for good, it will be a trial, the first time you 
 see him in the pulpit. But as it must come, first 
 or last, I should think the sooner you get over it 
 the better. Do you know whether old Harrison 
 VOL. I. c 
 
"26 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 is out of employ yet? Mr. Russell asked if I 
 could recommend him a gardener, for he said he 
 <;ould not bear that a sjjot which bore the marks 
 oi feminine care should run to waste. I told him 
 Mr. Wellford always managed his garden himself j 
 but he said he had not a turn for hoeing and 
 raking, and hardly knew a cabbage from a cauli^ 
 flower: so then I recommended old Joe Harrison, 
 and said if he had him twice a week, that would 
 be quite enough. I asked him if he meant to 
 marry, at which he laughed and said no, he was 
 a confirmed old bachelor. I said tliat was lucky, 
 for that unless he stuck up to you, who were too 
 old, or your daughter, who was too young, there 
 was no choice for him, exbept among the Holv 
 lands, who, between ourselves, are too flighty. 
 Besides, who are they ? Quite below him in birth, 
 any way; so that realiy — ha, ha, — if he ever 
 should take matrimony into his head, I think his 
 best chance would be with you, and then you 
 know you could all go back to the vicarage." 
 
 " Oh pray, pray. Lady Worral, if you have the 
 smallest regard for my feelings, never " 
 
 " Well, well, I won't ; I was only in joke, but 
 I see you are not able to bear that yet ; and, se* 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 27 
 
 riously speaking, he is mucli too young for you, 
 for I asked him his age, and he said six and 
 twenty. He looks more, and so I told him." 
 
 If Mr. Russell had been desirous of ingratiating 
 himself with Mrs. Wellford, he might with reason 
 have exclaimed, " Save me from my friends." 
 Certainly, with the most candid of dispositions, 
 and every wish to do him justice, Mrs. Wellford's 
 dread of seeing him, and antipathy to the mention 
 of his name, were doubly increased by Lady 
 Won-al's injudicious eulogiums, at the expense, 
 as it were, of the dead; and more especially by 
 her acknowledgment of having jokingly alluded 
 to Mr. Russell of the possibility that the dead 
 should ever be forgotten. The ensuing Sunday 
 was looked forward to with pain : before it ar- 
 rived, however, the new vicar thought proper to 
 pay his respects at the White Cottage, and in spite 
 of Mrs. Wellford's many prejudices against him, 
 she felt her dislike thaw away under the influence 
 of his mild, pleasing manners. He entered easily 
 into conversation, spoke of their mutual friend 
 Dr. Pennington, and of Stoke Barton rectory, 
 which, it seemed, he had lately visited ; praised the 
 " bowery scenery" of Summerfield, then went on 
 
 c 2 
 
28 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 with English scenery in general, and compared it to 
 that of Portugal, where he said he had spent the 
 preceding winter with a beloved sister. Mrs. 
 Wellford, noticing an expression of melancholy 
 in his tone, enquired whether ill health had been 
 the motive of the journey. " Yes," he said, " his 
 sister had been ^in a decjine, and a milder air 
 had been recommended; but not even Cintra 
 could save her. He was left alone in the world." 
 Mr. Russell then cleared his throat, and spoke 
 of the noise, filth, and discomfort of Lisbon. 
 There was nothing to make it desirable for an 
 invalid, he observed, except the air. Were he in 
 ill health, he should prefer taking his chance at 
 home. Abruptly quitting the subject, he noticed 
 the pretty view of the church from the j^arlour 
 window, and asked Hannah whether she did not 
 think it would make a good sketch, and whether 
 she drew. He then spoke of the lower order of 
 his parishioners, and made several inquiries of 
 Mrs. Wellford respecting then* characters and 
 wants. Mr. Russell had too much tact to hint 
 how Sony, he was sure, she must have been to 
 have quitted the vkarage, but he expressed his 
 delight at the beauty and neatness of his new 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 29 
 
 residence, which he said he should have pride m 
 preserviiig in its present tasteful order ; offered to 
 take Rosina on his knee, for which he was re- 
 warded with a push, and asked Hannah for one 
 of her clov^ pinks, which were finer than any in 
 his own garden. 
 
 " I think, mamma," said Haunah timidly when 
 their visitor was gone, " Mr. Russell seems a 
 person whom we shall learn to like in time. At 
 first I was almost sorry, and, I am afraid, rather 
 envious when I heard people praise him — it 
 seemed as if they were robbing papa of his rights. 
 But now I begin to feel that we should be thankfvil 
 he has been succeeded by some one who can ap- 
 preciate the good he did among the poor, and 
 carry on his plans. How much more painful would 
 it have been if a red-faced, hunting, sjjorting 
 clergyman had been sent to us, like the rector at 
 Heeley !" 
 
 " I dare say you are right, my dear," said her 
 mother with a sigh. 
 
 Mr. Russell's character was in fact of a higher 
 class than that of his amiable predecessor. With 
 fewer shining qualities than Mr. Wellford, he 
 possessed greater grasp of mind. He had fewer 
 
30 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 accomplishments, less taking manners, but stronger 
 sense. He appealed seldomer to the passions and 
 more to the understanding. To one accustomed 
 to the sunshiny hilarity of Mr. Wellford's coun- 
 tenance and manner, Mr. Russell, especially while 
 still suffering from a domestic calamity, necessarily 
 appeared grave iand reserved. His disposition 
 was excellent, yet where Mr. Wellford would have 
 acted from the spontaneous impulse of the heart, 
 Mr. Russell often acted from principle. Mr, 
 Wellford's disposition was essentially social ; he 
 had no higher enjoyment than that of conversing 
 vdih his wife, his children, and his parishioners. 
 Mr. Russell had greater sources of happiness 
 within himself. It sometimes cost him an effort 
 to lay down a favourite author and visit a sick 
 cottager; but the volume teas always closed and 
 the peasant always visited ; and the consequent 
 glow of self-api^robation amply repaid the exertion 
 of rousing himself from luxurious indolence. 
 
 Mrs. Parkinson, who had written more than 
 one condoling letter to her sister, now re-urged 
 her sending one of the girls to Park Place. Mrs, 
 Wellford's sphits became very low at the thought 
 of parting with any of the deai* members of her 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 81' 
 
 tliminished circle, and she long endured all the 
 discomfort of irresolution ; but recalling to mind 
 her last conversation with her husband to whose 
 sentiments and wishes she now attached a species 
 of sacredness, she at length made up her mind to 
 pai't with her little Rosina, and wrote the tardy- 
 answer to her sister's invitation. With fond self' 
 deception, she avoided fixing any specific time, 
 talcing advantage of such phrases as " tlie next 
 opportunity," " a trusty escort," &c. ; but Mr. and 
 Mrs. Good being summoned to London by the 
 death of a relation that very week, they offered to 
 deposit the little girl at Stoke Bartpn in their way, 
 and the proposal was too unexceptionable to be 
 refused. The suddenness of the resolution pre- 
 vented much time for regret ; Rosina was in high 
 spirits to the last moment, and it was not till the 
 windows were drawn up and the stage whisked 
 tlirough Summerfield, that the luckless little dam- 
 sel began to roar at the top of her lungs. 
 
 Without minutely describing the adventures of 
 a heroine in her eighth year, during the course of 
 a forty miles' progress over a Macadamized road, 
 it may be necessary to state that the evening of 
 the same day saw her safely consigned to a pow- 
 
32 VILLAGE BELLES, 
 
 dered footman at the lodge of Park Place. Roslna^ 
 with silent awe accompanied him to the house, 
 beneath the portico of which stood a middle-aged 
 gentleman who honoured her with a kiss, saying 
 " So you are my little niece, are you ? I am sure 
 you seem a very nice little maid." Thence she 
 was conducted to the drawing-room, where sat 
 Mrs. Parkinson and old Mrs, Diana. She was 
 welcomed by the former with a delight such as a 
 child might display at the acquirement of a new 
 toy. 
 
 " And how is your mamma, love ? " cried the 
 lady, untying her niece's bonnet — " Lord, what a 
 fine child ! do look at her, aunt Diana." 
 
 Rosina was indeed well worth looking at. Her 
 auburn locks, let them be combed or brushed 
 which way they might, persisted in resolving 
 themselves into spiral ringlets ; her large laugh 
 ing eyes were brilliant hazel, and her cheeks of 
 the colom* and softness of a peach. Mrs. Parkin- 
 son smothered, her with kisses, and Mrs. Diana 
 observed that she was " an uncommon fine child 
 indeed." 
 
 This evening, every body was pleasant and 
 pleased. The next was not quite so agreeable. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 33 
 
 Rosina had been noisy all day, and in the after- 
 noon had enticed her uncle to swing her in the 
 garden. Mrs. Parkinson fretful at beuig deprived 
 of a plaything of which she was nevertheless al- 
 ready becoming tired, summoned them in-doors : 
 they returned in high spirits and renewed the 
 romp in the drawing-room, and then she began to 
 be jealous that Rosina, whom she had got for her- 
 self, should so visibly prefer the company of the 
 gentleman. She declared she could bear such a 
 noise no longer, so Miss Rosina was sent to bed. 
 
 After she was gone, Mr. Parkinson sat down, 
 took up a newspaper which he had read before, 
 and commenced the following dialogue with his 
 wife. 
 
 " Well, my dear, how did Mr. Curtis find you 
 to-day?" 
 
 " He said, Mr. Parkinson, that I've a great 
 deal of feverish heat about me, and am far from 
 well." 
 
 " So far well. I am glad to hear it." 
 " Glad to hear what, Mr. Parkinson ?" (raising 
 her voice and speaking distinctly,) " He says I'm 
 far from ivell" 
 
 c3 
 
S4 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Oh, far from well — that alters the case ; I'm 
 sorry to hear it." 
 
 " I don't think you care much about it." 
 
 " What a sturdy little thing that Rosina is ! it is 
 astonishing what strength she puts out." 
 
 " That's no answer, Mr, Parkinson, to my ob- 
 servation." 
 
 " What obser^'ation, my dear ? I did not hear 
 you make any." 
 
 " No, I dare say not. Such a fine uproar as you 
 have been making ever since tea! It would be just 
 the same, I dare say, if I were dead." 
 
 " Deaf, my dear ? No such thing." 
 
 " Dear me, Mr. Parkinson, who said you were? 
 I said dead, not deaf" 
 
 " Oh ! was it so ? My dear, I am thinking that 
 if you took as much pains to pronounce your con- 
 sonants as your vowels, I should hear you per- 
 fectly Avell. You have got into rather an indistinct 
 way of speaking, the last year or two." 
 
 " Well, I never ! To lay the fault of your 
 
 hardness of hearing to my articulation ! " 
 
 " My dear, I hear Rosina perfectly welL" 
 
 " Yes, because she halloos." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES* 35 
 
 " It does not appear so to me." 
 " Because you 're deaf!" 
 
 " I'm sure her voice went through my head this 
 evening," observed Mis. Diana. 
 
 " Oh, and mine too. She's very lovely, cer- 
 tainly, but no one would take her for a gentle- 
 man's child. It will be the ruin of her if vve 
 continue to let her go on as she has done to-day. I 
 must endeavour to bring her into some sort of order." 
 This was spoken in Mrs. Parkinson's ordinary 
 tone of voice; and drawing her chair towai'ds Mrs. 
 Diana, she left her husband to enjoy his deaftiess 
 and his newspaper together. 
 
 " Should not you call on Mrs. Pennington 
 soon?" said Mrs. Diana. 
 
 " Yes, I think I ought, though I've a good 
 mind to punish her for her abominable haughty 
 independent manner, by staying away a little 
 longer. What a terribly large family that is ! 
 To be sure the Doctor has a handsome income, 
 but I can hardly imagine how he will provide for 
 them all." 
 
 " Oh ! the eldest son and daughter are settled." 
 "Yes, but then there are the two next girls 
 nearly ready to come out, who most likely will 
 
S^ VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 not many so well as Mrs. Ponsonby. Then there 
 are Lewis and Marianne. I'm sure their father 
 would do much better to send them to good schools 
 than to bring them up at home, for they are very 
 noisy, unformed young people. But there's so 
 much talk of their superior education ; and, when 
 one goes there, one hears so much about experi- 
 ments and air jtumps and electrical machines, 
 that it makes one quite sick. There did not use 
 to be any of this nonsense when I was a girl. It 
 was but last week the Doctor let them send up a 
 fire balloon. I told him I thought it was very 
 dangerous."^ 
 
 " Ah, they'll rejDcnt it some of these days," said 
 Mrs. Diana. 
 
 " So / say," rejoined Mrs. Parkinson. " But, 
 dear me, did you hear Mr. Curtis's story of Major 
 Webster, that used to dine here in my fathe/s 
 time, dropping down dead ? It was very shock- 
 ing, really. He was not older than Mr. Parkinson, 
 and much the same sort of looking man, of a 
 full habit and florid complexion. I should not be 
 surprised at his going off in the same way some of 
 these days, for he has a great many of the symp- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 37 
 
 toms Mr. Curtis mentioned, and so I said to Mr. 
 Curtis; and he said if any thing of that tind 
 should ever occur, the best thing would be " 
 
 " For him to marry my widow," said Mr. 
 Parkinson in his usual quiet voice. 
 
 " La ! Mr. Parkinson," cried his wife, looking 
 vexed and confused, "who would have thought 
 of your hearing what we were talking about?" 
 
 " What you were talking about, my dear, you 
 mean; for I did not perceive aunt Diana's lips in 
 motion." 
 
 "Well, all I know, is," said Mrs. Parkinson, 
 " that it's very disagreeable to live with a person 
 that sometimes is deaf and sometimes is not." 
 
 "My dear, the fault is not m my deafness, 
 which is never so great as you will persist in 
 maintaining it is, but in your having got such a 
 habit of speaking in a shrill key that you don'^t 
 know when you are making use of it." 
 
 " / speak in a shrill key ? Why, not long ago, 
 you accused me of muttering." 
 
 " Only of speaking indistinctly, my love, which 
 prevents my benefiting by your agreeable con- 
 versation, and then you^fancy I am deaf." 
 
38 VILLAGE BELLE3. 
 
 " Well, there really is no pleasing you, one 
 way or tlie other," cried Mrs. Parkinson very 
 crossly, and retreating with a bed candlestick as 
 she spoke ; " I think, deaf or not deaf, you are 
 enough to tire the patience of Job! '^ 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 89 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ABSENT WITHOUT LEAVE. 
 
 There being no necessity for minutely tracing 
 little Rosina Wellford's history during her abode 
 at Park Place, it need merely be stated that Mrs. 
 Pai'kinson soon discovered her grievous mistake in 
 supposing she could learn to be fond of children, 
 and that the system of management pursued by 
 her was such as to have a ruinous effect on her 
 protegee's temper and happiness. Injudicious 
 indulgence was shortly followed by injudicious 
 severity, or rather by a com'se of petty thwartings 
 and teazings as difficult to beai* as the tyrannical 
 exercise of power on a larger scale. One circum- 
 stance, indeed, ameliorated Rosina's fate. Mrs. 
 Parkinson, flimsily educated and without taste or 
 talent for communicating or acquiring knowledge, 
 was ill qualified to teach her chai'ge more than 
 she knew already j and a temporaiy illness in- 
 
40 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 duced her to accept Mrs. Pennington's friendly 
 proposal that the little girl should be sent to the 
 rectory every nioming to take her lessons with 
 Lewis and Marianne. Mrs. Pennington made the 
 offer, in fact, more in compassion to the niece 
 than the aunt; but Mrs. Parkinson found herself 
 so much the gainer by three hours' daily quiet, 
 that though she jealously commanded Rosina to 
 return the instant lessons were over, she allowed 
 the plan to be pursued after the ostensible motive 
 for its adoption had ceased, satisfying her pride 
 and her conscience by the reflection that it was no 
 great favour from the Penningtons after all, as 
 Mr. Wellford had been the Doctor's second 
 cousin. Rosina regularly poured forth her woes 
 in confidence to her sympathizing young compa- 
 nions, who deeply resented her wrongs, and 
 looked upon Mrs. Parkinson as the greatest tyrant 
 that ever lived. Commiseration, however, though 
 it alleviated, could not heal her childish giiefs; as 
 she increased in years and understanding, her 
 dependent situation, instead of growing more en- 
 durable from habit, became more intolerable. A 
 warm heart, warm temjier, and quick apprehen- 
 sion, gave keener edge to the sarcasms which INIrSr 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 41 
 
 Parkinson when in an ill temper, (and that was 
 sometimes seven days in a week,) levelled at her 
 mother and family — sarcasms, much harder to 
 bear than the restraint on her activity and noisy 
 spuits, which had formerly called forth her child- 
 ish tears. There were other methods of making 
 her feel dependent and degi*aded. Every year 
 Mrs. Pai'kinson now made a point of sending her 
 sister a silk gown; no very great gift, certainly, 
 considering the affluence of her own circumstances ; 
 but unceasing as were the allusions ostentatiously 
 made in all companies to this annual present! 
 *'Ah! that is a pretty sarcenet of yours, Mrs. 
 Pennington; just the colour of the last I sent 
 poor sister Wellford — no, I tliink her's was more 
 of a slate — she has not long been out of mourning, 
 you know, and in her circumstances, it's best to 
 have sometliing that will hide the dirt. I didn't 
 buy her a figured one, because a plain silk will 
 turn. I dare say she'll make it last" (in a confiden- 
 tial tone) " till I send her another. I wish I could 
 do more, but you know I have this girl to keep." 
 — " Mrs. Jones, may I trouble you for a pin ? 
 Ah, your pin cushion is off the same piece as a 
 gown I bought yesterday for Mrs. Wellford, I do 
 
42 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 believe ! You got the silk at Mr. Price's, I dare 
 say ; ah, yes, four and threepence a yard, the 
 very same." It was almost as intolerable to be 
 pointed out to every morning caller as " one of 
 poor sister Kate's children. A ten-ible large fa-* 
 mily ! — left quite unprovided, so that she took her 
 entirely out o^ charity." Poor Rosina learnt 
 *' how salt is the savour of another person's bread, 
 and how hard it is to climb another person's 
 stairs." Often the burning tears moistened her 
 daily portion of needlework ; and often they wet* 
 ted her sleepless pillow as she lay thinking of the 
 home, despised, as it seemed, by all others, but 
 deal" beyond measure to her who had been sent 
 from it to prove the wretchedness of splendid de- 
 pendence. Not unfrequently she was deprived 
 of her only consolation, the society of the young 
 Penningtons, till she had humbled herself for 
 some real or imaginary fault, which, to a temper 
 like hers, was gall and wormwood. Rosina at- 
 tained her twelfth year, and her disposition ap- 
 peared to be gi'owing reckless and sullen. Her 
 letters to her mother were always submitted to the 
 censorship of Mrs. Parkinson, whose temper was 
 not ameliorated by time, while Mr. Parkinson was 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 48 
 
 of too passive a nature to attempt interference ; 
 and Mrs. Diana, if not so cross, was even more 
 formal and fidgetty than her niece. Affairs at 
 length came to a crisis. Rosina took an extra- 
 ordinary resolution and acted ujjon it. She ran 
 away 1 
 
 Her aider and abettor in this daring step was 
 Lewis Pennington. He it was who, fired by the 
 recital of her wrongs at a moment when her heart 
 was full almost to bursting, declared that if he 
 were in her place, he would endure such tyranny 
 no longer, shewed the feasibility of a return to 
 Summerfield, lent her a guinea to pay her coach 
 hire, hailed the stage as it passed the shrubbery 
 gate, saw her safely placed in it, wished her good 
 luck and called out " all right." He returned to 
 the rectory with the bold confidence of a boy of 
 fifteen, not without a spice of mischief in his com- 
 position, and ready to endm^e whatever punish- 
 ment might await him for having fi-eed innocence 
 firom thraldom ; while Rosina, terrified almost out 
 of her senses at the hardihood of the enterprize, yet 
 trembling with delight at her emancipation, shrank 
 into one of the comers of the stage as it passed the 
 lodge of Park Place, and turned pale with alarm 
 
'44 VILLAGE BELLES, 
 
 when it drew up at the hin to receive parcels and 
 passengers. The door was abruptly opened, and 
 she started, with the apprehensiveness of guilt, in 
 the expectation of seeing some member of her 
 uncle's household ; but it was only the coachman, 
 who jerked in a brown paper parcel and then re« 
 mounted his box. They clattered over the bridge 
 which separated Stoke Barton from the adjoining 
 parish ; trees, houses, and steeples faded in the 
 distance ; and the agitated girl began to hope that 
 now, unless some very cross accident indeed 
 should happen, she was beyond the reach of pur- 
 suit; but there was still sufficient uncertainty 
 hanging over her fate to prevent her feeling com- 
 fortable. The possibility of her mother's dis- 
 pleasure haunted her mind, and by the time she 
 had reached Summerfield, this source of appre- 
 hension had worked her up to such a state of agi- 
 tation that, on entering the room where Mrs. 
 Wellford and Hannah sat at tea, she could only 
 reply to their eager and anxious inquiries by a 
 torrent of tears. When at length she could speak 
 articulately, she gave an account of all her griev- 
 ances, the recapitulation of which again choked 
 her utterance, and she murmured an almost inau- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 45 
 
 dible request that her mother would not send her 
 again to Park Place. 
 
 "To Park Place?" repeated Mrs. Wellford, 
 whose cheek glowed with a hectic colour, " No, 
 Rosina, did I even wish it, there is no likelihood 
 that yoiu' aunt would receive you again. The 
 doors of that house we may consider as closed 
 against us for ever. You have certainly acted 
 daiingly and imprudently in taking so important 
 a step as quitttng a home in which your friends 
 had placed you ; however, that is past now and 
 cannot be recalled. You have, I fear, been inju- 
 diciously treated, and now that we are once more 
 imited, no consideration on earth shall tempt me 
 to consent to a second sepai'ation. It has been 
 painful enough to both of us." 
 
 Tears fell from the mother's eyes, as she stooped 
 to kiss Hasina's cheek. " I hope your flUure con- 
 duct will prove to me," said she, " that what has 
 passed has been more attributable to adverse cir- 
 cumstances, and your aunt's imperfect knowledge 
 of the management of children, than to the hasti- 
 ness of your own temper." 
 
 Rosina sighed, and secretly resolved that 
 whatever the faults of that temper had hitherto 
 
46 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 been, they should be seen no more ; and now that 
 the dreaded explanation had taken jjlace, and she 
 was received into favour, she had leisure to kiss 
 Hannah again, and observe with wonder how 
 much she was grown and improved. 
 
 Hannah was at this time between sixteen and 
 seventeen; and like Thomson's rural heroine, — 
 
 " Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self." 
 
 It might be said of her features that they re- 
 minded you of the Grecian contour, though not 
 strictly conformable to it; and they completely 
 harmonized with the calm, pure, and chastened 
 spirit that shone through them. Her countenance, 
 if seldom radiant with vivacity, was generally 
 smiling and tranquil; and her dark blue eyes, if 
 they did not sparkle with genius, at least beamed 
 with intelligence and sweetness. 
 
 Hannah was as much struck with Rosina's 
 growth as Rosina was with Hannah's beauty; 
 and now that " the absent had returned, the long, 
 long lost was found," there was much to be told 
 and enquired into on both sides, liosina enjoyed 
 the consciousness of being once more at home, 
 though every thing looked very small to her, and 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 47 
 
 her sj^irits rapidly rose, albeit her mirth was ra- 
 ther hysterical. She ran into the kitchen to see 
 her old favourite, Betty; and Betty nearly re- 
 called her lachrymose propensities by enquiring 
 " how in the world she came from Park Place;" 
 but the choking in her throat soon subsided, 
 and before her gossip was half at an end, she was 
 called off by the sound of her brother Matthew's 
 voice. Matthew, now a fine boy of fifteen, M^as 
 serving his time with Mr. Good, under whose 
 roof he lived, though he ran down to the White 
 Cottage whenever he had an opportunity. He 
 welcomed his younger sister with noisy joy, was 
 inquisitive into the story of her wrongs, indignant 
 at Mrs. Parkinson's ill usage, and pitied her so 
 much that Rosina went to bed impressed with 
 the pleasing conviction that she had been a he- 
 roine in distress, Mrs. Wellford saw the miS' 
 chievous tendency of Matthew's commendations, 
 and was sorry for it; but was more indignant at 
 her sister's conduct than in Rosina's presence she 
 had thought fit to express. 
 
 In the course of the follov*'ing morning, Rosina 
 ran in from the garden, exclaiming " That tire- 
 some Mr. Russell is coming down the hill!" 
 
48 VILLAGE BELLeS. 
 
 "Tiresome!" repeated Hannah with surprise, 
 " nobody thinks Mr. Russell tiresome now." 
 
 " Dear me ! " cried Rosina, " wh}^ none of us 
 could bear him when I went away." 
 
 " True, my dear," said her mother, " but that 
 was because we did not know him. Mr. Russell 
 is an excellent young man, and does great good 
 among the poor." 
 
 " He may be very excellent," said Rosina, " but 
 I'm sure he is not very young. However, here he 
 comes," 
 
 Mr. Russell entered with several books under 
 his arm. " Well, Hannah," said he, smihng, 
 " here is Hayley's Life of Cowper for you at last. 
 Good morning to you, Mrs. Wellford. Ah, Ro- 
 sina, how do you do?" 
 
 All ^vere surprised at the quietness of this last 
 salutation. " Are you not astonished," said 
 Mrs. Wellford, " to see Rosina among us once 
 more ? " 
 
 " No," said he, " I was astonished to hear of 
 it; but news travels fast in country villages. Mat- 
 thew looked in upon me on his return to Mr. 
 Good's, and communicated the intelhgence." 
 
 " She did not follow quite the usual routine 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 49 
 
 observed by young ladies in setting out on their 
 travels," said Mrs. Wellford. 
 
 " So I hear," returned Mr. Russell, looking 
 gravely at Rosina, who felt rather abashed. After 
 enquiring for his friends the Penningtons, he 
 proceeded to talk about books, and one Abel 
 Trueman, a village prodigy, who had made some 
 astonishing discoveries in mechanics; to the sur- 
 prise and mortification of Rosina, who had ex- 
 pected him to shew some curiosity respecting her 
 adventures. She thought him a more disagreeable 
 person than ever, and wondered how Hannah 
 could read his stupid books. 
 
 In the afternoon, a furious letter came from Mrs. 
 Parkinson, accusing both Rosina and her mother 
 of meanness, insolence, and ingratitude, saying 
 that all Stoke Barton was crying out at Rosina's 
 unheard of conduct, and that the young Penning- 
 tons were in high disgrace for having connived at 
 her absconding. She added that this was the last 
 time she would hold any communication with a 
 branch of her family so wholly undeserving of her 
 patronage. 
 
 Mrs. Wellford burnt the letter without shewing 
 it to her daughters, merely teUing them that their 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 aunt Parkinson, as might natm-ally have been ex- 
 pected, was exceedingly angiy, 
 
 Every one being now thoroughly well informed 
 that Miss Rosina Wellford had run away from 
 Pai'k Place and returned to Summerfield, she soon 
 sank into the insignificance of a little girl of 
 twelve years old, and quietly resumed her usual 
 employments. In the course of a week, she re- 
 ceived a letter from Marianne Pennington, in 
 answer to one which her mother had allowed her 
 to send in a parcel, remitting a guinea to Lewis, 
 Marianne hoped she was well and had found her 
 mamma and sister so likewise, and stated that 
 both she and Lewis had been in sad disgrace, but 
 were now forgiven. The rest of the epistle was 
 about birds, flowers, and the French governess 
 Mademoiselle Mackau. Thenceforward, as neither 
 of the young friends had much money to expend 
 in postage, the coiTespondence was renewed only 
 at distant intervals. 
 
TILLAGE BELLES. 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FEMALE ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
 
 It is sometimes possible to run away from a bad 
 habit. An individual who in some particular cir- 
 cumstances is conscious he has deserved the re- 
 prehension of his acquaintance, has the power and 
 often the inclination, on entering a new society, of 
 commencing a refoimation without the annoyance 
 of its being generally known that reform is needed. 
 He turns over a new leaf — in short, with a voltisubito. 
 This was partly the case of Rosina, who, consci- 
 ous of her faults of temper, resolved that they 
 should never betray her now that she was once 
 more in her dear home where every one was kind 
 and good humoured. The acting on this prudent 
 determination, together with her mother's gentle 
 system of management and the infrequency of 
 temptation, effected a considerable improvement, 
 
 D 2 
 
52 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 though her faults were yet far from being eradi- 
 cated. Inconsideration both in speaking and 
 acting was the faihng which oftenest required her 
 mother's coiTection ; and, next to this, a want of 
 apphcation to any pursuit when it ceased to be 
 amusing. 
 
 Rosina had been so well gi'ounded in the ele- 
 ments of many feminine accomplishments by the 
 Penningtons' Parisian governess, that it only re- 
 quu-ed her own diligence to attain excellence in 
 almost any pursuit she chose to undertake ; and 
 Mrs. Wellford was very anxious that she should 
 adhere to the plans already commenced with so 
 much success. Rosina's style in every thing she 
 undertook bore an accurate likeness to her own 
 disposition. Her handwriting, for instance, was 
 more free than is usual at her age, but wanting in 
 neatness. Her drawings were bold, sketchy, and 
 incorrect. She would often cover a sheet of paper 
 with odd groups of knights en-ant, ladies, pages, 
 squires, and long robed sigTiors, which reminded 
 one of Cervantes, or Ariosto, or Spenser's Fairj- 
 Queen, and which excited wonderful admiration 
 and pleasure in the mother and sister ; but on ex- 
 amination it was generally found that one had no 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 53 
 
 neck, another's head was twisted hind part before, 
 arms and legs were put on where they were 
 never known to grow, some were standing in the 
 air, and others .«o aslant that it was impossible 
 they should keep their balance — faults by no 
 means uncommon in the hit-or-miss school. On 
 their being pointed out by the matter of fact critics, 
 Rosina generally observed that " it was much 
 easier to give advice than to mend ; " an unde- 
 niable fact ; — and that " she was tired just then, 
 but would correct the faults another time;" 
 which time never came. With respect to music, 
 again, Rosina had a sweet voice, quick finger and 
 excellent ear, and could play off any easy piece 
 at sight ; but her execution wanted finish. At 
 Summerfield, indeed, she had not much ojDportu- 
 nity of keeping up her practice ; for she had left 
 all her music behind, and the only instrument in 
 the house was an old square piano-forte, which 
 her father had bought, years ago, for fifteen 
 pounds at a sale. On this divine instrument 
 Rosina flourished over all the lessons she could 
 recollect in the absence of her notes ; and if she 
 stuck in the middle of a troublesome variation, she 
 changed the key, and went off" to something else ; 
 
54 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 till she was completely tired of all her old tunes. 
 Lady Worral then lent her half a dozen heavy 
 volumes of Handel, Gluck, Piccini, &c., half of 
 which were unintelligible, being printed in score. 
 Mrs. Good also rummaged out some reels and 
 country dances and a collection of Vauxhall songs; 
 but even with the free use of these, Rosina's 
 music soon came to a stand. 
 
 Hannah had no claim to the title of " an ac- 
 complished young person." Music she had never 
 had an opportunity of learning, and she had a 
 taste, rather than a genius for drawing. She was 
 fond of botany, and sometimes endeavoured to 
 copy the outline of a flower in pencil ; but her 
 attempts, though neat, were cramped. Her hand 
 was not what artists call " sufficiently untied." 
 But in the culture of her garden-flowers, in long 
 rambles among the green bowery lanes and over 
 the spirit-reviving heath, in needlework and in 
 reading, Hannah found sufficient resources with- 
 out the assistance of music or painting. Her 
 threaded steel was remarkably felicitous in its 
 execution of 
 
 " buds, and leaves, and sprigs, 
 Wrought patiently into the snowy lawn j" 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 55 
 
 and her delicate hemstitch and satinstitch formed 
 tlie only ornament of her neat and simple dress. 
 Poetry was a source of keen enjoyment to her; 
 not indeed the love-rapine-and-murder school, 
 of which no specimens had come to her know- 
 ledge, but the descriptive, contemplative, and 
 moralizing class of ^\Titers, among whom may be 
 instanced, as two of her bosom favourites, Thom- 
 son and Cowper. She had also enough mind to 
 understand and delight in Milton. At first her 
 reading was confined to the often turned over vo- 
 lumes of her father's moderate collection ; but in 
 after-times, Mr. E-ussell, whose study shelves were 
 amply furnished with standard works, and who 
 subscribed moreover to a town library, continually 
 supplied her with a change of useful and amusing 
 literature. Hannah understood French perfectly 
 when she read it to herself, but having principally 
 leanit it by sight, was diffident of her accent. 
 Rosina, on the conti'ary, had always had a mortal 
 aversion to grammars, French or English ; but her 
 excellent ear had enabled her completely to 
 catch the Parisian pronunciation of Mademoiselle 
 Mackau, who had insisted on French being inva- 
 riably spoken in school hours. She therefore 
 
56 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 gladly abandoned her needlework to read Voltaire's 
 Charles XII. and Pierre le Grand to Hannah 
 every afternoon, as long as they lasted. 
 
 In so confined a neighbourhood as Summer- 
 field, of course there was not much change of so- 
 ciety; but in the small round of visits which were 
 periodically exchanged, Mrs. Wellford was always 
 accompanied by her daughters. Lady Worral 
 loved a game at whist, and generally invited the 
 Goods and Mrs. Wellford every week or ten days 
 to make up a rubber. On these occasions Mr. 
 Russell, though he never played cards, sometimes 
 looked in and chatted with the girls at their work, 
 or challenged one of them to a game of chess. 
 Mrs. Good and Mrs. Greenway also, had little tea- 
 parties, which sometimes concluded with a dance ; 
 and at Farmer Holland's there were famous sylla- 
 bubs out of doors in the summer, and all sorts of 
 noisy Christmas games in the winter. Such was 
 the gaiety of which Hannah and Rosina partook; 
 and in the daily exercise of their domestic occu- 
 pations, months and yeai's followed each other, 
 productive of much peaceful enjoyment and leav- 
 ing little mark behind, while the futm-e promised 
 to be as much like the past as possible. Nobody 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 67 
 
 seemed to alter or grow much older, except the 
 young; there were few deaths and fewer mar- 
 riages. Mrs. Wellford at forty was as clear and 
 delicate looking as she had been ten years before, 
 and Lady Worral seemed to wear as well as her 
 everlasting brown satin pelisse. The three Miss 
 Hollands, who had formerly been village belles, 
 were still single, and had gradually become stout, 
 buxom, middle-aged women, retaining all the good 
 humom* and hilarity of their youth. There seemed 
 ever}^ prospect of the two Miss Wellfords likewise 
 spending their existence in single blessedness ; a 
 prospect which Hannah, at the calm age of two 
 and twenty, contemplated with the most perfect 
 composure, though Rosina, on the borders of 
 ^seventeen, considered the subject with rather more 
 imjmtience. Frequent consultations with her 
 looking-glass, which told her that she was an ex- 
 tremely pretty girl, had awakened in her a certain 
 portion of vanity. This had as yet little opportu- 
 nity of displaying itself, save in the somewhat 
 self-complacent expression of her countenance, 
 and the janty way of putting on her bonnet; 
 though in after times it involved more serious re- 
 sults. She was devotedly attached to Hannah, 
 
 D 3 
 
58 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 and now and then fretted herself a little that so 
 much beauty and sweetness should be wasted on 
 the desert air ; but in vain she invoked the heroes 
 of ancient and modem romance, for, like Glen- 
 dower's spirits, they did not come when she did 
 call for them. At one time, from the frequency of 
 Mr. Russell's visits, she really began to suspect 
 him of intending to make Hannah an offer, on 
 which she immediately discovered him to be en- 
 dowed with a thousand good qualities to which 
 she had heretofore been blind. He was not so 
 very old, after all, and certainly not at all old 
 bachelorish in his ways ! But the offer was not 
 made, and Rosina wondered how she could have 
 changed her opinion of him, for he was just the 
 same prosy good sort of a man as ever. Then he 
 began to pay Rosina more attention than formerly, 
 seemed suddenly aware that the " young lady" 
 was rising into the " young woman," took the 
 liberty of telling her of a few of her faults, at first 
 playfully, then seriously ; was evidently much gra- 
 tified by her improving on some of his hints, and 
 vexed and even cross at her shghting his advice 
 on some other points. What could all this in- 
 terest in her character mean ? He had become 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 59 
 
 such an habitual visitor at the White Cottage, that 
 it was looked on as something remarkable if two 
 days passed without seeing him. Was it possible 
 that Rosina could be the attraction ? That was 
 too ridiculous ; — yet it was better, at least more 
 entertaining, for a man to be even ridiculous than 
 merely solemnly stupid. There would be some 
 eclat in refusing him ; all the village would know 
 it, and be astonished at her, and pity him. Nay, 
 the poor man was so amiable that she really be- 
 lieved she should pity him herself. Poor Mr. 
 Russell ! 
 
 However, poor Mr. Russell continued to eat, 
 di'ink, and sleep as well as usual, quite uncon- 
 scious of the bold step that was expected from 
 him; and Rosina felt half ashamed of herself for 
 having indulged in such silly and imjjrobable 
 specidations. It was plain that he was in love 
 with neither of them ; most probably he had been 
 disappointed in early life. There was no one else 
 whom even her fertile fancy could convert into a hero. 
 An old college friend, indeed, of Mr. Russell's, 
 one Dr. Black, was occasionally known to be at 
 the vicarage, and he even drank tea at Lady 
 
60 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Worrars and Mrs. Wellford's, but this man Rosina 
 particularly detested. It was to no purpose that 
 Mr. Russell bespoke favour for him on the score 
 of his amiability, his deep learning, and varied 
 powers of mind — he had a grating voice, a figure 
 not unlike that of Dr. Syntax, a pair of legs in 
 every body's way; he dissolved nine lumps of 
 sugar in every tup of tea, played with keys, 
 scissars, or whatever lay within his reach while 
 speaking, and sometimes, in his fits of abstraction, 
 dropped the aforesaid keys or scissars into his 
 immense pocket. It was impossible to endure 
 Dr. Black. Then, the Hollands were visited by 
 occasional troops of odd looking cousins from 
 London, whose manners even Rosina's inexpe- 
 rience knew to be underbred ; and Mr. Good had 
 two nephews in the next market town, one ar- 
 ticled to a solicitor, the other an usher in a public 
 school, who dined with him every Sunday, 
 and as often on week days as he thought proper 
 to invite them. Sam, the articled clerk, was pert 
 and disagreeable; Edwin, the usher, pale and 
 pragmatical. Neither could, by any stretch of 
 fancy, be coaxed into heroes, though they did 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 61 
 
 tolerably well for partners in an occasional dance. 
 So witb the conviction that in due time, she and 
 Hannah would add two to the much abused sister- 
 hood of old maids, Miss Rosina Wellford was 
 obliged to remain contented. 
 
62 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A BApHELOR's TEA TABLE. 
 
 Man is an ambulatory animal. He walks to and 
 fro, Avliether to digest his thoughts or his dinner, 
 either in his study, in his garden, on his teiTace, 
 or wheresoever fate is kind enough to afford him 
 room for stretching his legs. The Greeks and 
 Romans were luxurious people. They had actual 
 ambulatories built of marble, sheltered from the 
 weather, and adorned with pillars and statues. 
 
 The Reverend William Russell was not so well 
 off — his library was fourteen feet by sixteen, with- 
 out deducting for the bookcases; and five strides 
 brought him from one extremity to the other, 
 even if he took the diagonal of the square. So he 
 bought himself a library chair; and when his 
 thoughts required shaking, he stepped out into 
 the churchyard, where there w^as a lime-tree walk. 
 Summerfield church, it cither has or ought to 
 
Village belles. 63 
 
 have been stated, stood on the brow of a hill. 
 When Mr. Russell passed through the little garden 
 gate which opened into the church -yard, he might, 
 if he turned to the right, behold a very pleasing 
 prospect. Towards the east was seen the steep 
 straggling street which composed the village, a 
 confused and picturesque mixture of white -washed 
 and red-brick tenements, projecting gable-ends 
 and tall chimney-stacks, beneath elm, poplar, and 
 horse-chesnut trees ; Lady AVon-al's grounds ris- 
 ing immediately behind, and in the extreme 
 distance, a range of chalk hiUs, at the foot of 
 which ran the high road. 
 
 Yet towards this view, pretty as it was in itself, 
 Mr. Russell seldom turned when leisure allowed 
 him to choose between his right hand and his left. 
 On the south side of the church -yard lay his fa- 
 vourite gravel walk shaded by limes, where he 
 could digest the secondly s and thirdly s of his 
 sermon, or pause to gaze in pleased reverie on the 
 scene below. The valley on this side was deeper 
 than that towards the village, and completely 
 shut in by a chain of hills. The scenery was 
 essentially rm-al, not a single habitation being in 
 sight, though the smoke from Mrs^ Wellford's 
 
64 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 chimneys rose from behind a clump of trees. The 
 valley was intersected by a stream, and chiefly 
 used for pasture. In one spot, therefore, might 
 be seen a Cuyp-like group of cows either grazing 
 or standing mid-leg in the water, whOe at a Uttle 
 distance, a snow-white flock of sheep cropped the 
 grass: and the milkmaid's call and the shepherd 
 boy's whistle were in perfect harmony with the 
 accessories of the picture. Occasionally too, 
 Hannah might be seen watering the flowers in 
 the neat garden, which, though closely hedged, 
 was from the height on which the churchyard 
 stood, completely overlooked; and in the perfect 
 stillness which reigned around might even be 
 heard the distant tones of Rosina's guiish voice as 
 she sat at her Avork beneath the walnut tree. 
 
 Such was the scene which Mr. Russell loved 
 full well to contemplate, and which, one fine July 
 evening, after some hours of close study, he 
 stepped forth to enjoy. The valley was in all 
 its beauty; the sun threw its slanting beams 
 on the varied green of the foliage and the rich 
 purple of the distance ; the milkmaid in her red 
 petticoat and white apron, was driving home her 
 cows and singing as she went, the shepherd-boy 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 65 
 
 was peeling a willow wand and whistling loud and 
 clear ; " the insect world were on the wing " and 
 the air was loaded with happy sounds of life. 
 Hannah too, in her white gown, was sitting be- 
 neath the walnut-tree, apparently sympathizing 
 with the feelings which made Dr. Paley exclaim 
 " It is a happy world after all !" and Mr. RusseU's 
 eyes, after taking the circuit of the valley, were 
 gradually returning to dwell on its gentle heroine, 
 Avhen he became aware that another was also 
 drinking in its beauties. 
 
 On a grassy bank at a short distance from the 
 church-yard and rather below it, commanding a 
 view of Mrs. Wellford's cottage as well as of the 
 surrounding country, sat a young man very in- 
 tently engaged in drawing what was probably a 
 sketch of the scene before him, as he frequently 
 regarded it attentively for a few minutes and then 
 resumed his occupation. The bold, rapid motion 
 of his hand and arm conveyed the idea of a 
 masterly touch, yet he seemed dissatisfied with his 
 success, for he now and then paused, shook his 
 head, and wistfully reconsidered the prospect. 
 Mr. Russell, who was unable to see his face, 
 judged him from his figure and occupation to be a 
 
6Q VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 stranger; and after watching his movements a 
 httle while with considerable interest, had enough 
 of the Paul Pry in his composition to open the 
 gate and walk towards him : perhaps he thought 
 it might be Turner or Glover. As he approached 
 from behind, the young stranger all at once gave 
 up his attempt, changed his position to one of entire 
 unconstraint, an4 threw his sketch-book on the grass, 
 so that Mr. Russell nearly stumbled over it. Foot- 
 steps, and a little exclamation scarcely amounting to 
 a word, made the artist aware of his vicinity ; he 
 started from his luxurious half-recumbent position, 
 and stretched out his arm to remove the impedi- 
 ment with a good-natured " I beg your pardon." 
 
 " No pardon is necessary, sir — Allow me — " 
 said Mr. Russell, stooping to assist him to collect 
 numerous little scraps of paper which fluttered 
 from the leaves of the sketch-book, some of which 
 he honourably took pains not to see were poetry. 
 
 " Pray do not trouble yourself, sir — I am an 
 awkward fellow," said the stranger, scrambling 
 together the fugitive pieces. — "I am infinitely 
 obliged to you"— as the last of the covey, evi- 
 dently a fine drawing, was restored by Mr. 
 Russell. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 67 
 
 " I wish," said the vicar smiling, " I could be 
 bold enough to hope that my little service might 
 be rewarded by a sight of -the tantalizing waif I 
 have had the pleasure of restoring." 
 
 The young man gave him a good-humoured 
 but searching look with a pair of brilliant black 
 eyes. " Oh, certainly, if you wish it," returned 
 he, after bestowing a second glance on his draw- 
 ing — " You guess it, I suppose, to be a view of 
 the valley before us. You are welcome to see the 
 sketch, though I fancy it is very different from 
 what you expect to find it." 
 
 Mr. Russell eagerly examined the drawing 
 which was held out to him ; and to his great sur- 
 prise, beheld not only a view of the scenery im- 
 mediately surrounding the White Cottage, but 
 Hannah herself seated on her garden-chair be- 
 neath the tree. A few clever touches had given 
 the easy outline of her figure and the general form 
 of her simple drapeiy; and imagination easily 
 supplied the profile of the sweet and thoughtful 
 face resting on her hand, beneath the graceful 
 braiding of her light brown hair. 
 
 " That figure comes in well, I think ?" said the 
 artist interrogatively. 
 
68 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Mr. Russell looked at it long and intently ; at 
 length lie replied with an accent of much pleasure, 
 " Yes, she comes in well, as you say. You have 
 caught the lady's resemblance, sir, cA^en better 
 than that of the scenery ; and I may say in the 
 words of Milton, 
 
 ' Much I the place admire ; the person more.' 
 
 Your representation of place and person, I mean. 
 It is excellent." 
 
 " Odd enough," cried the young man with a 
 delighted look, " that the same, or nearly the same 
 passage should have occun-ed to both of us ! It 
 was but a minute ago that I was silently applying 
 to myself the beautiful simile which immediately 
 follows the line you have just quoted. You 
 doubtless remember it ?" 
 
 Mr. Russell looked as if he did not remember 
 it ; and the artist with at least as much energy as 
 the occasion required, repeated the following 
 lines 
 
 " ' As one who long in populous city pent 
 
 Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
 Forth issuing, on a summer's day ; to breathe 
 Among the pleasant villages and farms 
 Adjoined, from each thing met conceives delight, 
 The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 69 
 
 Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound, — 
 If chance with nymph-like step fair maiden pass, 
 What pleasing seemed, through her now pleases more ; 
 She most, and in her look sums all delight.' " ' 
 
 " Imagine, sir," continued the enthusiastic 
 speaker, after having very pleasingly enunciated 
 this difficult passage, — " Imagine, sir, the force 
 with which these lines must be felt by a man pas- 
 sionately fond of nature in all her varied forms, 
 compelled by his profession to pass half the year 
 in the feverish excitement and pestiferous atmos- 
 phere of London, and who, escaping at length 
 from his bondage, plunges into the country and 
 comes all at once on such a scene as this !" 
 
 " It must indeed be delightful," said Mr. 
 Kussell. 
 
 " It is almost intoxicating ! " exclaimed the 
 stranger, who paused, apparently inclined to laugh 
 at his own warmth of expression. He tied the 
 strings of his portfolio, and added in a more tem- 
 perate tone, "I assure you that when I sprang 
 oiF the coach-box half an horn' ago, and strolled 
 into the churchyard to look about me while the 
 horses were changing, the view, which unexpect- 
 edly presented itself, filled me with such delight 
 
70 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 that no words could have given expression to my 
 feehngs. Being without aim or object, except to 
 find subjects for my pencil, I hurried back to the 
 inn, took my portmanteau from the stage, and re- 
 solved to remain here till I had exhausted the re- 
 sources of the neighbourhood. Perhaps you, who 
 appear a resident in this part of the world, can 
 tell me how ^oon that period is hkely to ar- 
 rive." 
 
 " We have abundance of fine scenery around us," 
 
 said Mr. Russell, " and I think it will be some 
 time before you will complain of want of materials 
 
 for your pencil. Meanwhile, if my services are 
 
 worth acceptance as a cicerone" — 
 
 " Thank you," replied his new acquaintance, 
 
 " I shall gladly avail myself of your kindness. I 
 
 am, as you may have guessed from my sketching, 
 
 an artist." 
 
 " From the excellence of your sketching," said 
 
 Mr. Russell. " May I have the pleasure of know- 
 
 ing ?" 
 
 " Huntley, sir," said the young man, a second 
 
 time forestalling him — " My name is Huntley. 
 
 You may probably have seen my father's name in 
 
 the papers, some years ago — an officer who dis- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 71 
 
 tinguislied himself in the American war. He 
 has long been dead." 
 
 Mr. Russell did not recollect the name of Cap- 
 tain Himtley, till the stranger reminded him of 
 some striking circumstances which instantly 
 brought to his memory that officer's unavaihng 
 bravery and melancholy death. Pleased with the 
 rencontre, and with the naivete which had led the 
 young artist to speak thus unreservedly of himself 
 and his connections, he invited him to drink tea 
 at the vicarage. 
 
 The invitation was accepted as frankly as it was 
 given. Mr, Huntley put his portfolio under his 
 arm, and before he turned away, gave a parting- 
 look at Mrs. Wellford's cottage. " That is a pretty 
 little place," said he — " I can hardly tell what to 
 make of- it. In spite of its roses, hollyhocks, and 
 garden-seats, I should set it down for the tene- 
 ment of some small farmer, or bettermost sort of 
 labourer ; and yet the lady — " 
 
 " Is a lady, I assure you," said Mr. Russell ; 
 " that cottage is inhabited by the widow and 
 orphans of an excellent man who was my pre- 
 decessor in the vicarage." 
 
72 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Indeed !" cried Mr. Huntley — " Have I then 
 been sketching a lovely young Lavinia ? 
 
 " ' She with her widowed mother, feeble, old. 
 And poor, lived in a cottage far retired. — ' " 
 
 " No ! Miss Wellford's mother is still a pretty 
 vroman, and neither in ill health, neglected, nor 
 sunk in poverty." 
 
 Mr. Huntley laughed, and followed his new 
 acquaintance to the vicarage. " This is more 
 like an adventure," cried he with animation, " than 
 one often meets with in these steam-engine days, 
 when minds and roads are equally Macadamized." 
 
 On entering Mr. Russell's parlour, his quick 
 eye instantly glanced round to discover whether 
 it were decorated by any specimens of art. A 
 little miniature of Fanny Russell, the young 
 woman who had died at Cintra, a fine engraving 
 from Da Vinci's Last Supper, and another of the 
 Madonna della Seggiola, were all that met his 
 view. The new publications which lay on the 
 windov/-seat afforded a more fertile svibject of con- 
 versation, and by the time Mr. Russell had ma- 
 nufactured his bachelor's essence, the two ac- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 73 
 
 quaintance seemed to understand each other's 
 minds as well as if they had been intimate for 
 years. They trod the classic field together, and 
 discussed men, morals, and manners. Thence 
 they diverged to the arts. Huntley asked his 
 new friend if he had seen the last Exhibition. 
 
 " No," said Mr. Russell. " Strange as it may 
 seem to you, during the ten years I have held this 
 vicarage, I have only visited London three times, 
 and always on business." 
 
 "That does seem strange.— How a man with 
 talents and tastes such as appear to be yours 
 should be content to vegetate in a country place 
 like this, pretty as it is, seems hardly so extraor- 
 dinary as, — pardon me, — that in such a confined 
 neighbourhood you should preserve such freshness 
 and vigour of mind. How have you prevented 
 your colloquial powers fi-om rusting?" 
 
 " Nay, sir, you compliment — it is likely enough 
 that they have a little rust : a country parson has 
 too many allurements to slovenly indolence to be 
 always proof against temptation ; yet strange to 
 say, though self-indulgence generally grows upon 
 us, I am far less insensible to the claims and 
 
 E 
 
74 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 pleasures of society than I was some years ago. 
 ^\^lell I first came here, I had a morbid dehght in 
 soHtude ; it was the greatest of luxuries to me to 
 shut myself up with my books, and to brood over 
 them and my own melancholy speculations. Death 
 had recently broken up the beloved circle which 
 in old times had gathered round my father's 
 hearth. However, I convinced myself at length 
 that this yielding to regret was not only weak but 
 inexcusable ; I looked abroad among my flock, 
 and found many members of it more comjjauion- 
 able than I had at first supposed. Few of them 
 are very refined, I grant— but when we take to 
 study human nature as a science, all varieties of it 
 have something interesting or entertaining." 
 
 " As have all varieties of the human counte- 
 nance," said Huntley. " I never saw a face yet, 
 however vulgar or ordinary, the study of which 
 might not benefit a painter." 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Huntley, do you make landscape or 
 figures your study ?" 
 
 "Oh, I belong to the historico-picturesque 
 school. That may be tomed, you know, the 
 melo-drama of painting. Nothing comes amiss to 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 75 
 
 me — houses, men, women, children, animals, old 
 ruins, shattered trees, gipsy tents, antique furni- 
 ture, — all turn to account in some way or other." 
 
 " You speak very enthusiastically of your pro- 
 fession." 
 
 " Is it not a profession, to demand enthusiasm ? 
 Only think of the stores of mind and memory 
 that must be brought to it, if Ave would pursue it 
 witli a hope of success ; only think of the manner 
 in which it claiifies the vision to every thing that 
 is grand and beautiful ! A painter must have all 
 the knowledge of history and anatomy that books 
 and professors can teach, together with an origi- 
 nality of combination, (for invention is nothing 
 more,) that can never be taught ; he must under- 
 stand moral as well as physical anatomy — I mean 
 the dilFerent forms in which passions express 
 themselves, so as to be able to represent human 
 beings under their influence. What laborious 
 thought and practice this supposes! And when 
 labour has won the victory, there remains the 
 business of hiding the traces of that labom* — the 
 raking over the ploughed clods, to make all look 
 fir'-shed and even. Wliat says Tasso? 
 ' L'arte che tutto fa, nulla si scopre.' 
 
 E 2 
 
76 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Is not enthusiasm necessary to carry a man 
 through all this ? Talking of the anatomy of the 
 mind, what incomparable opportunities, sir, must 
 your Roman Catholic brethren have of attaining a 
 knowledge of it through the medium of confes- 
 sion! What must it be to see man's heart laid 
 bare to the view! to hear all the impulses and 
 suggestions that led to crime described with the 
 eloquence of remorse! — Pretty young penitents, 
 on the other hand, showing their purity of mind 
 by their contrition for some venial fault — some 
 harmless piece of coquetry, or trick played on the 
 old duenna ! — Truly, it Avould be amusing enough 
 to have a week's play at father confessor." 
 
 " Taking his own fasts and penances into con- 
 sideration ?" 
 
 "Why yes, I think so. — He quits his hard 
 pallet before daybreak, with less reluctance, of 
 course, than if it were of eider-down, joins a pro- 
 cession of his brethren, which, if he have the 
 smallest taste for the picturesque, must be very 
 gratifying to his imagination, accompanies them 
 to a splendid chapel, hears a mass of the most 
 divine nnisic, adores some master-piece of Raf- 
 faelle or Correggio, then retires again to his cell 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 77 
 
 to whip himself with a small knotty cord, which 
 is the least agreeable part of the business, I grant, 
 though it must be remembered that the degree of 
 severity with which he inflicts the stripes is en- 
 tirely optional ; and some, we may guess, wield 
 the scourge with considerable gentleness. Then 
 comes his breakfast! A glorious one, nine times 
 out of ten, it is, and even if it be a fast day, one 
 may have something worse than fish. After break- 
 fast, he and a brother monk take a walk ; and if 
 we may judge from Pinelli's etchings, they do not 
 object to stop before a puppet-show, a saltareilo, 
 or whatever amusement may be going on. They 
 say " benedicite " to every pretty contadina, come 
 home to a second mass, cany the host, perhaps, 
 to some dying sinner in a marble palace, dine, and 
 sing mass again. Then, for his afternoon amuse- 
 ment, our monk steps into his confessional, where 
 a second Schedoni possibly comes to afford him 
 ten times the excitement of Mrs. Radcliffe's best 
 novel, or without being a second Theodosius, his 
 vanity is gratified by tlie confessions of a Con- 
 stantia." 
 
 " Still, Mr. Huntley, custom " 
 
 " Oh sir, your servant ! — I only said for a 
 week." 
 
78 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 A pause now ensued, such as the most clever 
 and talkative cannot always prevent; which was 
 broken by Mr. Russell's asking Huntley whether 
 he were acquainted with a young painter, a kins- 
 man of his, by name Frank Russell. 
 
 " Do I know honest Frank ?" cried Huntley 
 gaily — " Frank Russell, the most industrious of 
 punsters, the idlest of students, the prince of good 
 fellows? Not to know him would argue myself 
 unknown. He is to be found, manufacturing 
 mirth in every studio." 
 
 " Yoiu' description of him is likely enough to 
 be exact," said Mr. Russell, " and accounts, I am 
 afraid, for his not making any very rapid advance 
 in the arts." 
 
 " I will tell you the secret of Frank's slow pro- 
 gress, sir. He does not want talent, but he is in 
 too easy circumstances. He w^ants poverty, to 
 make him a good painter. Nothing like a little 
 starvation, or the dread of it, to spur genius. So 
 long as he does not depend on the sale of his 
 pictures for his daily bread, he Avill not care that 
 no one offers to buy them. He only puts his hands 
 in his pockets and laughs. Tell him that he has 
 committed some egregious fault in di-awing, and he 
 replies that it does not signify. He copies well. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 79 
 
 He makes a fine show at the British Gallery, 
 where he generally chooses some picture that 
 has plenty of background. Background is his 
 forte — a Rembrandt with only a nose and a tri- 
 angular piece of cheek standing out from a mass 
 of black, suits him exactly. He once set about 
 an original historical composition on a large scale. 
 So sanguine was he of success that before the 
 group was half painted in, he bought an expen- 
 sive frame for it. Afterwards, he became dissatis- 
 fied with his work, thought it too diffused, paint- 
 ed out the subordinate figures, and contracted the 
 principal mass till nothing but a little island of 
 light re'mained. On this his vast ocean of back- 
 ground gradually encroached till the little island 
 was finally swallowed up, and nothing but a lai'ge 
 mass of blackness was left. Meanwhile, Frank 
 had invited some professional friends to sup with 
 him, so nothing else would suit the whimsical 
 fellow than to mount this total eclipse without 
 sun or moon into his magnificent fi'ame. Every 
 one, of course, no sooner saw it than they were 
 convulsed with laughter ; and their mirth was in- 
 creased by his gravely telling them that it was an 
 allegorical piece, representing the moral darkness 
 
80 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 of the Gentile world. He placed it in the same 
 class with Con-eggio's ' Notte.' Poor Frank! 
 notwithstanding his weakness for backgrounds, 
 he is a very talented, as well as gentlemanly fel- 
 low—every body likes him ; and there is more 
 beneath the surface than many suppose. Though 
 the waves are frothy, the ocean is deep." 
 
 Before Mr. Kussell and his new acquaintance 
 parted for the night, an arrangement was made for 
 their visiting the remains of an old monastery at 
 a few miles' distance on the following day. The 
 appointment was kept ; the weather, the scenery, 
 and the associations connected with monastic 
 ruins conspired to kindle Huntley's enthusiasm and 
 render him a more agreeable companion than be- 
 fore. They again met in the evening, and drank 
 their coffee at the large lattice window of Mr. 
 Russell's study, through the open casement of 
 which came the mingled perfume of sweet-briar 
 and mignionette. 
 
 " I like the air of this old vicarage exceedingly," 
 said Mr. Huntley. " Though not positively pic- 
 turesque in itself, it becomes so from the scenery 
 in which it is embowered, and the graceful mantle 
 of trailing plants flung over it." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 81 
 
 " The vicarage owes the latter attraction," said 
 Mr. Russell, " to those who were preA^ented from 
 reaping the reward of its beauty. Mrs. and Miss 
 Wellford planted the clematis and sweetbriar just 
 before I came to enjoy the improvements which 
 resulted from their taste." 
 
 "Miss Wellford?" repeated Huntley. "That 
 was the young lady we met to-day in the lane." 
 
 " No, her elder sister. When I first came here 
 and saw so many minute evidences of care and 
 orderly arrangement on every side, I could hardly 
 help considering myself a supplanter; and felt 
 somethiijg like remorse when 1 beheld an oi*phan 
 family thrust into a cottage scai'cely superior to 
 that of a common labourer, that I, a single man, 
 might sit down surrounded by su^Dcrfluity of 
 room." 
 
 " That must have been a painful feeling to a 
 generous mind. But are the family you speak of 
 reconciled to the change in tlieir situation ? " 
 
 " Completely, I believe, so far as pecuniary cir- 
 cumstances are concerned. Their tastes, refined 
 and yet simple, are fully satisfied ; and the uni- 
 versal rush and struggle for wealth and luxmy is 
 never more sm*prisiiig to me than when I hare 
 
 E 3 
 
82 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 just been witnessing how much happiness is com- 
 patible with an income as limited as theirs. Mrs. 
 Wellforcl has always preserved the respect that 
 was originally her due as the vicar's wife ; and, 
 from my being unmanied, has never had occasion 
 to relinquish the duties of that station. She is a 
 very chai-ming woman." 
 
 " Tastes refined and yet simple ? " repeated Mr. 
 Huntley, after musing on the vicar's description. 
 " How seldom they are to be found ! I should be 
 cmuous to see union of refinement and simplicity." 
 
 " Come," said Mr. Russell with more than usual 
 alertness, " what say you to a visit to the White 
 Cottage } I should like to shew you that the 
 union does not exist merely in my own fancy. 
 You robbed the Miss Wellfords of their guest last 
 night, so it is but fair that this evening they should 
 have two." 
 
 " With all my heart," said Huntley, quitting his 
 seat with alacrity. They accordingly left the 
 vicarage together. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 83 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AN A. R. A. 
 
 RosiNA, in her morning walk, had encountere'd 
 Mr. Russell and Mr. Huntley. The former, 
 without offering to introduce his companion, had 
 merely smiled and said, " good morning, Rosina;" 
 leaving" her to marvel exceedingly as she pro- 
 ceeded dowTi the lane, who the intelligent look- 
 ing young man could be by whom he was ac- 
 companied. She had heard of a Mr. Frank Rus- 
 sell, and of a younger brother of Dr. Black's. But 
 there was as much dissimilarity between Mr. Rus- 
 sell's old crony and this yoimg unknown as be- 
 tween black and white. She was sony she had 
 on her old bonnet, and on her return home re- 
 lated to her mother and sister what she persisted 
 in calling " the adventure." 
 
 " Really, Rosina," said Hannah, much amused, 
 " I cannot call your passing Mr. Russell and pro- 
 
84 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 bably some cousin or college friend of his, much 
 of an adventure." 
 
 " You may laugh," said Rosina, " but seldom 
 as we see a new face in Summerfield, it is a kind 
 of adventure nevertheless." 
 
 In the evening, as she was reading beneath 
 her favourite walnut tree, Rosina heard animated 
 voices in the laiie, and recognized the tones of 
 Mr. Russell. Guessing that he was coming to 
 call on her mother, accompanied by his unknown 
 friend, she started up without exactly knowing 
 why, and leaving her book on the seat, ran into 
 the house. In another minute she perceived 
 through the parlour casement that the two gentle- 
 men were actually in the garden, and communi- 
 cated the remarkable intelligence to her mother 
 and sister, feeling very thankful that she had put 
 on her jaconet frock instead of her cambric- 
 muslin. 
 
 As they passed the garden seat, Huntley pointed 
 to the book Rosina had forsaken in her flight, and 
 which had a sprig of myrtle between its leaves ; 
 saying with something of Charles Kemble's ex- 
 pression in Hamlet, — 
 
 " ' Do you see nothing there ?'" 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 85 
 
 " Yes, indeed do I," cried Mr. Russell, taking 
 up the volume, " I see my Greenfield's Essays 
 lying out of doors exposed to tlie chance of bad 
 weather or theft, for which I shall take the liberty 
 of scolding Miss Rosina." 
 
 Accordingly he entered the parlour with the 
 accusing witness in his hand, exclaiming, " So, 
 Rosina, this is the way you treat my books I" 
 Huntley's introduction then took place, and while 
 Mrs. Wellford was receiving his prefatory remarks 
 on the weather and the scenery very politely, Mr. 
 Russell found an opportunity of \\hispering to 
 Hannah, " A young artist, — a surprising genius 
 with whom I fell in yesterday by chance. I know 
 little of him except that he is well acquainted with 
 a cousin of mine, and has evidently had the edu- 
 cation of a gentleman ; but I think you will find 
 him quite a rara avis."'' 
 
 Hannah looked towards the stranger with inter- 
 est and cm'iosity. At the same time, Mr. Huntley 
 turning to address himself to her, gave Mr. Russell 
 an opportunity of which he presently availed him- 
 self, of repeating nearly the same aside to Mrs. 
 Wellford. 
 
 " What an enchanting spot" began Huntley, 
 
86 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " you have chosen for your delightful retirement ! 
 Here you seem to have every thing around you 
 which the poets tell us is necessary or accessory 
 to perfect happiness. ' Retirement, rural quiet, 
 friendship, books,' And I may add music, may 
 not I ? You have an instrument, I perceive." 
 
 " 1 neither sing nor play," replied Hannah, 
 " but my sister does both." 
 
 " She has a charming resource' then. I can 
 hardly imagine how ladies fill up their time with- 
 out music. But perhaps you pursue the sister 
 art ? You are fond of painting ? " 
 
 " Very fond of looking at drawings," said 
 Hannah, " but unfortunately I have no genius, 
 and never made a tolerable drawing in my life. 
 My sister draws, however " 
 
 " How much she is to be envied for having two 
 such delightful talents ! Music and painting are 
 twin sisters and ought never to be separated. But 
 is it possible you admire both these fascinating 
 arts, yet have made no efforts in either ? I fancy 
 the denial is owing to your modesty— or perhaps 
 poetry is your engrossing study } " 
 
 Rosina's wondering eyes turned from the smil- 
 ing proposer of these sifting questions, whom she 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 87 
 
 could hardly tell whether to believe an actual 
 quizzer or not, to her sister, who replied with 
 perfect simplicity, — 
 
 " Yes, I am very fond of poetry, though I hope 
 I do not allow it to become my engrossing pursuit." 
 
 " Pursuit! oh then, you write ! " 
 
 "Oh, dear, no!" 
 
 " Nor your sister ? " inquired he, looking archly 
 towards Rosina, who with a little colour and a 
 little laugh, replied in the negative. 
 
 " After all," said Mr. Huntley, " we must allow 
 fine taste to be the most attractive attribute in a 
 woman. Genius implies a more masculine grasp 
 of mind, and is hardly suitable to the delicacy of 
 tlie sex. They sink under it, like Erminia be- 
 neath the spaikling armour of Clorinda. Now 
 and then we find a lady strong enough to poise 
 the heavy lance of the amazon, but such a phe- 
 nomenon is uncommon and perhaps not very 
 pleasing — and yours is the sex, you know, ' ne 
 pour plaire. ' " 
 
 " No," said Rosina, " we are of 
 
 ' the sex whom man was born to please.' " 
 " But does not one quotation contradict the 
 
88 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 other, Rosina?" interposed Mr. Russell. " For 
 my own part, I believe that the most important 
 business both of men and women is to please." 
 
 " Indeed ! " cried Rosina with surprise, " I 
 should never have suspected you of thinking 
 so." 
 
 " Yes, Rosina, the grand, the important business 
 is to please. Thd only question on which people 
 split is, whom are they to please ? Some say, them- 
 selves, you Icnow ; others, the world; others are 
 old fashioned enough to say — their Maker." 
 
 " I might have guessed a moral was coming," 
 said Rosina smiling, " though I acknowledge that 
 it is a very good one. But surely, ]\Ir. Huntley, 
 you are rather severe towards us poor ladies, in 
 denying that we can possess the smallest particle 
 of genius without becoming disagreeable." 
 
 " No, no," he replied, " I did not deny that. 
 No, I love and admire every indication of talent 
 in women ; but the most attractive degree of it is 
 perhaps what ]\Iarmontel happily calls ' ce demi- 
 talent qui sollicite 1' indulgence, et qui' — stay, I 
 hope memory will not play me false, — ' qui, ob- 
 tenant de 1' estime et se passant de gloire, amuse 
 les loisirs d' une modeste solitude.'" 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 89 
 
 " That is a very beautiful quotation," said Mrs. 
 WeUford. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Russell, " and it completely 
 embodies my ideas of what feminine accomplish- 
 ments ought to be ; it denotes the subjection in 
 which they should be kept to higher pursuits, to 
 render them hannless or even pleasing. However, 
 I must do you, Rosina, the justice to acknowledge 
 that without being disagreeable, you have more 
 than a demi-talent fov drawing." 
 
 " Indeed .'' " cried Huntley, assuming an air of 
 such perplexity that Hannah and Rosina could 
 not refrain from smiling, — " Where am / then, 
 what will become of me, after all the treason I 
 have been uttering ? " 
 
 " You must recant," said Mr. RusseU. 
 
 " Ay, so that you will but dictate the form," 
 returned Himtley, " but who will ensure the ac- 
 ceptance of my recantation ? I have involved 
 myself in an awkward scrape. There is one hope 
 left. — Perhaps you deceive yourself, Mr. Russell, 
 or wilfully deceive me in saying that this young 
 lady really has more than a demi-talent for draw- 
 ing. Pray help me out of my difficulty," added 
 he, turning to Rosina, " by she\^ing me your port- 
 
90 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 folio, that I may satisfy myself you draw very 
 badly." 
 
 Rosina laughed, but shook her head. Huntley 
 was not discouraged, and after some general dis- 
 cussion of the news of the day, renewed the attack. 
 
 " Ai-e you quite resolved not to make me 
 easy ? " 
 
 " Yes, indee5." 
 
 " I see you are very implacable. I dare say 
 you will never forget what I said about demi- 
 talent." 
 
 " No, I dare say not." 
 
 " Are there no hopes for me, even of distant 
 forgiveness } " 
 
 " Oh, forgive and forget are different things." 
 
 " Yes, but like hare, and currant-jelly, they 
 usually go together. I am afraid I am a lost man. 
 My case is quite hopeless. If you felt the least 
 relenting, you would not refuse me a little speci- 
 men, if it were but a mere sketch. — So trivial a 
 favour — " 
 
 " And yet is it worth so much asking ? " 
 
 " A slight one for you to grant, but a great one 
 for me to receive. I wisli your sister would in- 
 tercede for me — " 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 91 
 
 '' Oh, it would make no difference." 
 " What ! are you so little accustomed to grant 
 her requests ? Are you on such bad terms with 
 each other? How people may be misled by 
 countenances ! To think that the minds of two 
 such apparently amiable young ladies should be 
 occupied by the evil passions of hatred, envy, and 
 malignity, or at best by freezing indifference !" 
 
 Rosina laughed again, and thought Mr. Huntley 
 very odd. He afterwards turned to reply to an 
 obsenation of Mrs. Wellford, and remained for 
 some time unusually silent, apparently listening 
 to her chalogue with Mr. Russell, but actually 
 occupied in admiring the delicate tints of Hannah's 
 complexion, and considering with what colours it 
 could be imitated. It seemed to him the very 
 complexion which Sir Joshua Reynolds had at- 
 tempted to describe when he desired his pupils 
 to " think of a pearl and a peach." It was neither 
 red nor white, but composed of a gradation of 
 hues more beautiful than either. Wishing at 
 length to induce her to speak, he re-commenced 
 the subject of his dialogue with Rosina. 
 
 " May I ask, in what style your sister draws ? " 
 " In all styles, I think," said Hannah. 
 
9'2 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " That is — 1 hardly know what you mean by a 
 style — whether the word applies to the subject or 
 the manner of treating it. — She draws any thing 
 that strikes her in reading, or that she sees in her 
 walks." 
 
 " Tliat is no common talent." 
 
 " How can you have the perversity, Rosina," 
 cried Mr. Russell, " to let Mr. Huntley fish by 
 the hour together with the industry of an Isaac 
 Walton, without having to boast of so much as a 
 nibble? Drawings are meant to be shewn, as 
 bread is meant to be eaten. Come, let me add 
 my entreaties to his, that you will favour us with 
 a sight of your portfolio. — I am very much mis- 
 taken if Mr. Huntley will not take the liberty 
 which I sometimes take, of telling you of a few of 
 your faults — if you give him encouragement." 
 
 " Which you never require,'' said Rosina, laugh- 
 ing. " Well — my poor little portfolio shall be 
 untied, though it contains nothing worth seeing." 
 
 And with a mixture of dread and self-compla- 
 cence, she spread her little collection before the 
 artist. Huntley was surprised to see, instead of 
 the formal, mounted copies which are usually found 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 93 
 
 in young ladies' drawing-books, a variety of original 
 designs, some on scraps of card or drawing-paper, 
 some on letter backs, varying in their degrees of 
 merit, full of faults, but displaying considerable 
 power of imagination and freedom of execution. 
 
 " Here is no half-talent," said he, as he turned 
 over the contents of the portfolio, " here is real 
 genius, even though it be uncultivated. May I 
 criticise freely ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Rosina. 
 
 " My daughter will be grateful to you, Mr. 
 Huntley," said Mrs, Wellford. 
 
 " Well then," he resumed, " to begin with this 
 little group, which seems, from the quotation be- 
 neath it, to represent the aiTest of Mary, Queen of 
 Scots." 
 
 And he pointed out its merits and defects, 
 shewing what she must avoid and liow she must 
 avoid; with many striking illustrations of the pre- 
 cepts he was instilling. The whole of his little 
 lecture contained such evidence of talent and good 
 sense that Mr. Russell and Mrs. Wellford clearly 
 saw that he was master of his subject. To eluci- 
 date some position he was laying down, Mr. Hunt- 
 ley produced what he called his pocket album, a 
 
94 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 little volume scarcely exceeding a memorandum- 
 book in size, and neatly fastened with a button 
 and string. Here were many first-thoughts hastily 
 jotted down, odd physiognomies caught in the 
 streets and in stage-coaches, picturesque fragments 
 of various kinds, and several musical airs writ- 
 ten out on fairy-like lines. Rosina's eye was 
 caught by thes^ miniature songs, and as the book 
 was freely handed from one to another, she asked 
 permission to examine Mr. Huntley's little selec- 
 tion of music. He immediately offered to lend it 
 to her. 
 
 " Most of these songs are Italian, I see," said 
 Rosina, " that is a language of which unfortu- 
 nately I know nothing." 
 
 " You will like that little air of Paesiello's, how- 
 ever," said Huntley, " even if you content youi'self 
 with merely playing it." 
 
 " Les us hear the air, Rosina," said Mr. Russell. 
 She was sure she shoidd find it too difficult; 
 but Huntley had moved a chau* towards tlie piano- 
 forte, and raised the music-desk. The first trial 
 was not quite successful. Mr. Huntley hummed 
 the song to set her right. The second time it was 
 better played, and every one admired it. Mr. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 95 
 
 Huntley pleaded, liowever, for a little more ex- 
 pression, and Mrs. Wellford asking whether he 
 could not sing, he laughed and said " Oh no ! " 
 Notwithstanding which, he immediately accom- 
 panied Rosina with a balmy, penetrating voice, 
 such as she had never heard before. Hannah 
 looked expressively at her mother, and Mr. Rus- 
 sell began, for the first time, to believe in stories 
 of universal geniuses. 
 
 " It is sweet, but monotonous," said Huntley 
 abruptly turning from the piano. 
 
 " Very sweet," said Mrs. Wellford. 
 
 " And yet, as you observe, Mr. Huntley," conti- 
 nued Mr. Russell, " the air is monotonous. Now, 
 an idea strikes me, — I dare say I am wrong, for I 
 know nothing of music — not so much as the dif- 
 ference between A sharp and B flat." 
 
 " I should wonder if you did," thought Rosina. 
 
 " But," he continued, " it seems to me that 
 monotonous music, when sung by a fine rich 
 voice, has a deeper effect on the mind than music 
 which has more variety." 
 
 " Undoubtedly it has," said Huntley, " on a 
 mind which is either wholly without cultivation, 
 or which has amved at the highest pitch of refine- 
 
96 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 ment. The untutored ear can relish none but 
 simple melodies : when the ear begins to be cul- 
 tivated, it also becomes vitiated, and takes plea- 
 sure in variety and apparent difficulty. It must 
 even be kept from satiety by discords. As we go 
 on, the taste refines itself", and we reach our ori- 
 ginal love of simplicity — we find we have travelled 
 in a circle, and that when we fancied ourselves 
 farthest from ignorance, we were at exactly the 
 same distance from perfection. It is the same 
 with every thing — dress, eating, books, manners, 
 habits of life. The coquette comes back to her 
 white gown, the epicure to his boiled chicken, the 
 man of fortune to his cottage. We take great trou- 
 ble to acquue factitious tastes and then have to 
 unlearn them." 
 
 While Rosina was considering how much of 
 this was true, and how much new, she found that 
 her mother's guests were taking leave. Much 
 pathos was there in her farewell curtsey to Mr. 
 Huntley, and very sony was she to receive his 
 parting bow. As soon as he was fairly gone, her 
 raptures clothed themselves in words. 
 
 -" My dear mamma! My dear Hannah! Did 
 you ever know such a channing person ? Did you 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 97 
 
 ever meet with sucli a universal genius ? Such an 
 enchanting voice, and such wit, and such eyes ! " 
 
 " Softly, softly, Rosina, unless you would have 
 us think, that, like King Leai*, ' your wits begin 
 to unsettle.' " 
 
 " But seriously, mamma, did you ever know any 
 body at all to compare with this Mr. Huntley ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear." 
 
 " Ah, you are thinking of poor papa. But you, 
 Hannah, you who are impartial, do not you think 
 of him as I do ? " 
 
 " He seems very clever indeed," said Hannah, 
 " though I cannot go so far with you as to admire 
 his eyes. He looks one out of countenance." 
 
 " Oh, my dear, that was only the natural con- 
 sequence of his admiring you so much. I like 
 him the better for it — " 
 
 " Wliat! for looking people out of counte- 
 nance ? " 
 
 " No, mamma, for admiring Hannah. You 
 know he paints portraits, and portrait painters are 
 obliged to study people's faces so constantly, that 
 it must necessarily become a habit. / did not 
 observe that he looked any one out of counte- 
 nance. Well!— I must say I am sm-prised at 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 VILLAGE BELLES, 
 
 you both. I thought you seemed so delighted 
 with him," 
 
 " My deal" Rosina, because we steady old ones 
 cannot quite keep pace with your raptures, there 
 is no reason Avhy you should set us down as in- 
 sensible to the merits of your hero. His conver- 
 sation was amusing, his singing delightful, and 
 his manners quit^ superior for a drawing-master." 
 
 " A drawing-master ! my dear mother, what are 
 you saying ? Mr, Huntley is no dramng-master ; 
 Mr. Russell says he is a first-rate artist, a Royal 
 Academician or Associate, I forget which — I dare 
 say he would be quite affronted at any one's of- 
 fering to engage him as a teacher." 
 
 " Though he offered to teach you gratis. Ah, 
 Rosina ! the case is plain. You are kindred souls, 
 and have mutually fallen over head and ears into 
 love, at first sight." 
 
 " Oh, I am not to be laughed out of my opi- 
 nion in that way; nor need you. Miss Hannah, 
 look so provokingly arch. I shall be gratefiil to 
 Mr. Russell as long as I live, for having intro- 
 duced such a charming acquaintance to us. Ah ! 
 here is his dear little book, I declare! I did 
 not think it had been left behind. I shall carry 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 99 
 
 it up stairs with me, out of Betty's reach, and I 
 wish you two insensible ladies a very good night, 
 which I have no doubt you will enjoy. No drowsy 
 indifference for me ! " 
 
 The following day, Rosina was trying over Mr. 
 Huntley's songs, admuing his sketches, and cor- 
 recting her drawings according to the advice he 
 had given her, till dinner-time. More than once 
 she went to the wdndow, and looked up the lane 
 to see if any body were walking down it ; but was 
 disappointed, for Mr. Russell had carried Huntley 
 to a beautiful view six miles off. In the afternoon, 
 Rosina declared she must walk to Heeley to buy 
 some new bonnet-ribbons, for her old trimmings 
 were quite shabby, and she tried to persuade Han - 
 nah that her's were the same. Hannah was not to 
 be convinced against the evidence of her own eyes, 
 though, as her sister was bent on making the pur- 
 chase, she consented to accompany her, notwith- 
 standing the heat of the weather. Along two 
 miles of the dusty, shadeless high road, therefore, 
 they proceeded ; the patient Hannah making no 
 complaints ; and on their arrival at the Httle shop, 
 they had the gratification of finding the services 
 of all the shopmen bespoken by their Saturday 
 
 F 2 
 
100 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 customers. Hannah was glad to rest herself on 
 the summit of one of the high stools which had 
 often excited her sister's ridicule ; while Rosina, 
 less tired, or not choosing to own it, had the plea- 
 sure of receiving a smirking bow from Edwin 
 Good, as he passed with a file of schoolboys, 
 trying to look as if he were independent of them. 
 The blue ribbon was at length bought, and also a 
 pretty pair of French gloves, which Hannah in 
 her own mind set down to tlie Himtley account ; 
 but she made no remark, and they toiled home, 
 looking, as their mother told them with a smile, 
 " very unbecomingly hot." To Rosina's prodi- 
 gious vexation, she learnt that Mr. Huntley had 
 called in their absence, not even Mrs. Wellford 
 having been at home. The walk had given Han- 
 nah a head-ache, and she sat languidly turning 
 over the leaves of a book at the open x^andow, 
 while Rosina, her whole soul intent on the new 
 trimming of her bonnet, was snipping, pinning, 
 and placing, and lamenting that she had not 
 bought another half yard. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 101 
 
 CHAPTER VHI. 
 
 A SUDDEN CONVEET. 
 
 Sunday morning arose clear and bright, and Ro- 
 siua, nicely dressed, accompanied her mother and 
 sister to chm'ch with feelings of great complacence. 
 She could not help stealing a furtive glance around, 
 to see in whose pew Mr. Huntley might be sit- 
 ting; but no Mr. Huntley was to be seen, a 
 circumstance not inimical to her devotion. After 
 service, Matthew ran to divide his mother and 
 eldest sister, and accompany them down the lane ; 
 and Sam Good, in the glory of a new blue coat 
 with bright metal buttons and a primrose waist 
 coat, walked by the side of Rosina, flourishing liis 
 cane, drawing up his pert little figure, and observ- 
 ing that the weather was " uncommonly charm . 
 ing." He came on Matthew's invitation, to lunch 
 at the White Cottage; and then, to Rosina's relief' 
 they set forth on a walk. 
 
102 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 There was a poor lame boy, named Hemy 
 Neale, who lived m a small cottage on the chalk 
 hills which bounded the valley opposite to the 
 church, to whom, as he was unable to attend the 
 service, Hannah always went to read for half an 
 hour before dinner on Sundays. Thither she was 
 now accomj)anied^ by Rosina, and as they were 
 proceeding doT^ai the lane, Mr. Huntley crossed a 
 stile which brought him immediately in their path. 
 He looked pleased at the rencontre, bowed, hoped 
 Mrs. Wellford was quite well, and took the same 
 direction as that which they were keeping. 
 
 " I have had a delightful morning," said he, " on 
 these downs ! " 
 
 " You were not at church then?" said Hannah. 
 " No, That was very wicked of me, was it 
 not?" said Mr. Huntley, laughing, and looking 
 at her as if he did not expect to be judged very 
 severely. " I have been lying under a venerable 
 tree. Miss Wellford, — listening to the harmony of 
 the birds and the distant tolling of the village bell, 
 and watching the various picturesque groups of 
 peasantry as they crossed tlie hills. How much 
 more enjoyable is a Sunday in the country than in 
 London! There you are jostled by strings of 
 
VILLAGE BELLES, 103 
 
 elaborately dressed, unintellectual looking people, 
 pouring from churches and chapels, or nearly run 
 over by cockneys in their one-horse chaises, setting 
 out on expeditions to Highgate or Hampstead." 
 
 " You speak of meeting the congregations face 
 to face, Mr. Huntley," said Hannah. " Are we to 
 understand, then, that you do not add one to their 
 number?" 
 
 " That is a veiy satirical inference," he replied, 
 smiling. " Oh, I assure you, I go to church — 
 sometimes. However, I will acknowledge that my 
 attendance might be more regular. But shall I 
 also own to you that the green hills and the clear 
 blue vault of heaven form, in my humble opinion, 
 a fitter temple for the worship of their Maker than 
 the most gorgeous building which man can raise ? " 
 
 Hannah looked at liim in quiet surprise. 
 
 " I am an idle fellow, and talk a great deal of 
 nonsense, I dare say ; but there is to me so much 
 of formality, of mind-crushing repetition, in the pre- 
 scribed service, so much of the tiresome or ridicu- 
 lous in the manner in which it is usually per- 
 fonned, as to deaden, or at any rate, inteiTupt 
 feelings of devotion. A Hturgy is a good thing ; 
 an estabhshed liturgy there ought to be ; I agree 
 
104 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 with you there — those that have no ideas of their 
 own to express, must have words put into their 
 mouths — but the helps which are given to slug- 
 gish piety are ineihcient, and real piety wants 
 none. A miserable chorus of charity children, ojften 
 a droning preacher, always a bad clerk, are the 
 chosen substitutes for the majestic trains of priests 
 and melodious choirs who presided over the wor- 
 ship of the ancients. Surely," continued he more 
 earnestly, and stooping as he spoke, to gather a 
 tuft of flowers, " more real advantage may be de- 
 rived from moralizing over one of these campa- 
 nulas wdiich spring beneath our feet, than in 
 drowsily listening to one of those well-paid gen- 
 tlemen who 
 
 ' reading what they never wrote, 
 
 Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, 
 And with a well-bred whisper close the scene ! ' " 
 
 " You should hear Mr. Russell ! " said Hannah 
 with energy. 
 
 " Yes, he is a man of talent, and doubtless 
 preaches well; but will you not allow that, in 
 general, my idea is correct .'' " 
 
 " I — I dare say that the study of the cam- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 105 
 
 panula may awaken some very good feelings, 
 but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " Should we rest there ? That does not amount, 
 does it, to more than the religion of nature ? " 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 Hannah paused, and Huntley for a moment 
 looked triumphant. 
 
 " Well ! " repeated he, " what have you to say 
 against the religion of Nature ? " 
 
 " Nothing against it — only that there are six 
 days in the week on which we may study cam- 
 panulas ; the seventh requkes — something more." 
 
 " You are right," said Mr. Huntley, looking 
 pleased; and after a short pause, he added, " I 
 like to hear women plead for religion as if it were 
 something intimately connected with themselves." 
 
 Tliey had now reached Henry Neale's cottage; 
 and Rosina, who had attentively hstened to the 
 dialogue between her sister and their new acquaint- 
 ance, opened the garden gate. 
 
 " You are bound on some errand of charity, I 
 sujipose," said Mr. Huntley, as he glanced at the 
 mean exterior of the cottage, — " Well, Miss Well- 
 ford, I am a thorough convert. You may believe 
 
 f3 
 
106 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 me, I assure you. See ! here goes the campanula ! 
 And this afternoon, I shall make a pomt of hear- 
 ing your Mr. Russell." 
 
 " Every body's Mr. Russell," said Hannah. 
 
 " Nay, the pronoun was plural, and embraced 
 the whole parish. Till I have the honour, Miss 
 Wellford, of a more intimate acquaintance, the 
 monosyllable you must occasionally comprise all 
 Summerfield, while we stands for the busy world 
 of London, with myself as one of its inhabitants." 
 
 Mr. Huntley bowed respectfully and gracefully, 
 and passed on. " What a study she would make ! " 
 thought he. " If I could but persuade her to give 
 me a few sittings '. — " 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 107 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A VILLAGE SOIREE. 
 
 *' Girls," said Lady Worral, entering Mrs. 
 Wellford's parlour the following morning, " I'm 
 come to tell you, — oh, my poor breath ! When 
 shall I get it again ? This nasty hill of your's — 
 I wish to goodness you'd stayed at the vicar- 
 age!" 
 
 " What was your Ladyshijj going to tell us .? " 
 inquired Rosina, as soon as their visitor appeared 
 in a speaking condition. 
 
 " That you and your mother must come and 
 drink tea with me to-night, for the Goods have 
 promised me, and moreover they are going to 
 bring Matthew ; and there'll be Margaret and 
 Phoebe Holland. Bessy can't be spared, on ac» 
 count of her father's rheumatism. But I've a 
 stranger coming, whose name I shan't tell you 
 beforehand." 
 
108 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 "Oh! how can your ladyship be so cruel? 
 Won't you even say whether it is a gentleman or 
 a lady?" 
 
 " No, no, no, not a word. Perhaps it's the Mrs. 
 Barker you've heard me talk so often about, and 
 ]oerhaps it's my neiDhew, the captain —perhaps it's 
 neither. Heyday, Rosina, what are you doing 
 with that bonnet? Untrimming it again ? / took 
 notice of your new ribbons yesterday, I assure 
 you. You have cut the strings too short in allow- 
 ing too much for the bow, but that can't be helped 
 now — you wiU only make matters worse. Satin 
 ribbon always frays ; and why could not you have 
 bought white, to be like yom' sister ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't see why sisters should always 
 dress alike, especially when they have different 
 complexions. White suits Hannah very well, but 
 really my brown skin requires something brighter 
 to set it off. It stands to reason that what is 
 becoming to a fair person must be unbecoming to 
 one who is dai'k." 
 
 " Upon my word ! And how long have you 
 paid such attention to the becoming and unbe- 
 coming? I thought your mother had taught you 
 to consider only what was neat!" 
 
VILLAGE BELLES, 109 
 
 Rosina coloured. " This comes," pursued her 
 ladyship in high dudgeon, " of letting such young 
 girls have allowances ! When I was a cliild of 
 your age, I had a guinea to keep in my pocket, 
 and never was allowed to buy myself so much 
 as a box of patches. And as to a calash, or a 
 
 polonaise ! " 
 
 " Pray, Lady Worral, what kind of things may 
 those be ? I never heard of them before." 
 
 " Pshaw ! pretend never to have heard of a 
 polonaise or a sacque.? Come to me, some morn- 
 ing, and I'll shew you what they are. I'll shew 
 you the primrose pattysway that I was married in, 
 when I only measured twenty-one inches round 
 the waist: one of your good old pattysways that 
 would last a woman's lifetime, not like the flimsy- 
 things they make up now; and I might wear it to 
 this day, if I could but get into it. Why is your 
 mother always out when I come.^" 
 
 " She could not guess that your ladyship meant 
 to call upon her this morning. She has only gone 
 to speak to Dame Stokes." 
 
 " Ah, she may perhaps stay gossipping with her 
 for an hour. Molly Stokes has no objection to let 
 her irons get red-hot before the fire while she is 
 
no VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 telling all the news of the village. It was always 
 her character. I remember her as a housemaid to 
 Mrs. Greenway, about fifteen years ago, a strap- 
 ping rosy-faced girl as you'd wish to see, and she 
 was always gossipping at the shop or running 
 over to the "NVTiite Hart. She had a flu'tation 
 with Simon, the baker's man, and every body 
 thought a matcR would come of it, but I knew 
 better. So at last, you see, she was obhged to 
 take up with Timothy Stokes. That's almost 
 always the way with beauties; they think they 
 may have whom they like ; and plume themselves 
 upon it, till they are obliged to sit down with 
 worse luck than their neighbours. Mind that, 
 young ladies. But it's of no use for old folks to 
 talk, for young folks won't mind them. There 
 was Mr. Russell read us a fine chapter yesterday 
 about young women not clothing themselves in 
 pearls and costly array, but I dare say Sam Good 
 put it all out of your head, Rosina, before you 
 had walked half down the lane." 
 
 " I am sure Sam Good had not the power of 
 making me think of any thing but his own extreme 
 disagreeability," said Rosina scornfully. 
 
 Lady Worral took a pinch of snufi", and then 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. Ill 
 
 said, " Well, I may depend on seeing you early, 
 for of course you've no other engagement; and, 
 Rosina, be sure you make yourself very smart for 
 your new beau." 
 
 " Oh, it is a gentleman, is it ? " 
 
 " There, I've let the cat out of the bag. But 
 it's no one you have ever seen," 
 
 " Surely, Lady Worral, you may as well tell 
 us all now. It can't be Captain Worral, for 1 
 know he's at Naples." 
 
 " No, he isn't, he's at Sorrento. No, this is 
 the grandson of an old flame of mine, whom 1 
 danced with, many's the time, when I was a girl. 
 I fell in with this young man an hour ago, when 
 he was taking a sketch in my ]3ark." 
 
 " Mr. Huntley ! " said both of the girls. 
 
 " Yes, it is, but how do you know any thing of 
 him?" 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Russell introduced him to us on 
 Friday, and we were all quite delighted with him. 
 So then you know all about him ? " 
 
 " AU about him ? I did not know the lad was 
 in existence; for the last time I saw Captain 
 Huntley was at an officers' ball in the year — let 
 me see — no matter, — we were both of us single 
 
112 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 then. That was the grandfather, you understand — 
 a very fine man ; he wore the willow for me two 
 or three years, and then manied a Miss Hutchin- 
 son. His only son grew up to be a fine young 
 man too, and he bought a commission for him; 
 but then, you see, this son thought proper to 
 marry without his father's consent ; and afterwards 
 he was killed in America. So now you know all 
 that I can tell you. TJiis young man is as like 
 his grandfather as possible, allowing for the dis- 
 advantage of his not wearing powder; and it 
 seems that he has been brought up to painting. 
 Bless me ! if old Captain Huntley could look out 
 of his grave, and see one of his descendants taking 
 money for pictures ! However, he's disowned by 
 all his father's relations; notwithstanding which, 
 I don't see any harm in having invited him to 
 tea." 
 
 " Well ! " cried Rosina, when Lady WoiTal was 
 gone, " it seems he is a gentleman by descent at 
 any rate ! " 
 
 In the evening, or rather afternoon, when Mrs. 
 AVellford and her daughters entered Lady Worral's 
 drawing-room, they found Mr. Huntley already 
 anived and smilingly listening to an account of a 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 113 
 
 public breakfast at which his gi'andfather had 
 figured fifty years ago. He gave up his chair to 
 Mrs. Wellford, and manoeuvred to get a seat next 
 to Hannah", in which, however, he was disap- 
 pointed; and before he had had time to suffer 
 much from his loss, the three Miss Hollands 
 amved and a voluble explanation took place, how 
 that Bessy was able to come after all, because 
 Aunt Patty had unexpectedly come fi'om town, 
 and papa had always fancied Aunt Patty's nursing 
 more than that of any one else. They were soon 
 followed by Mr. and Mrs. Good and by Matthew 
 Wellford. Matthew was a good-humoured and 
 good-looking young man of about twenty, fair- 
 hau'ed, and uniting something of Hannah's coun- 
 tenance to Rosina's thoughtless spirits. Miss 
 Phoebe Holland often condescended to bestow a 
 few smiles on him, to which Matthew gratefiilly 
 replied by some first-attempts at easy compliment ; 
 though he often complained to his sisters with 
 much pathos, that " there was not a woman in 
 Summerfield worth speaking to." Matthew, with 
 considerable good taste and keenness of appre- 
 hension, was not free from mauvaise honte; and 
 when he had nothing to say, he made up for it by 
 
114 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 a laugh. Plis communications to Rosina, which, 
 let them have been separated for ever so short a 
 time, were always very fluent, he whisperingly 
 conveyed to her this evening in the following 
 manner. 
 
 " We got a new patient to-day. A famous rich 
 old fellow — Mr. Kippis, who lives at the Grove, 
 you know, abdUt eight miles off. He always 
 used to have Parker of Heeley, but Parker was 
 out of the way, so the servant came on to us, and 
 it's my opinion that now we've got our foot in 
 there, we shall keep our ground. Parker is a low- 
 bred, disagreeable fellow, disliked by all the 
 ladies, and nothing would have got him into such 
 practice but a false opinion of his skill. He's 
 nothing ! nothing at all, as people will find out at 
 last. Well, and so as Mr. Good was obliged to 
 go off to the Grove, you know, / was obliged to 
 step over to the Miss Hinckleys at Hundleford, 
 and very pretty girls they are, I assure you. 
 There was one playing the harp. The old lady 
 seemed at first rather dissatisfied at iJie masfer^s 
 not going over himself, but I explained how that 
 was, so then all was right, and w^e got on famously. 
 I went on the mare. Oh, by the by, what do 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 115 
 
 you think ? Sam Good smuggled me over " The 
 Last of the Mohicans ! " So 1 have dipped into it 
 once or twice behind the surgery coimter, and to- 
 night I mean to coax cook out of a long piece of 
 candle, and have a good spell of it. Don't you 
 envy me ? You shall have it when I've done with 
 it, if you like." 
 
 " Thank you, but I don't think mamma would 
 like my borrowing novels of Sam Good." 
 
 " Oh, but I needn't tell Sam — He's in no hiury 
 for it. But do as you like." 
 
 " Does it seem very interesting } " 
 " Oh ! beyond every thing. The hero is a 
 black. I mean a red. A red Indian ! What do 
 you think of that .? " 
 "How frightful!" 
 
 " Not at all. He is very handsome. So " (low- 
 ering liis voice) " that is the Mr. Huntley you were 
 telling me of. He seems a lively little fellow. 
 How he is running on to Hannah ! He makes 
 himself quite at home. These are London man- 
 ners, I suppose ; I wish. I could rattle away in that 
 manner ; but I don't know how it is, I never can 
 find any thing to say. Don't laugh, now; I mean 
 
116 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 except to you and Hannah. To-day, for instance, 
 all the way to Hundleford, I was thinking how I 
 should make myself agreeable, and settling just 
 the easy kind of way I should go in, and the easy 
 kind of things I should say, all quite pat; but 
 when tlie time came, I could not bring one of 
 them in. Was not that tiresome ?" 
 
 Mr. Russell at this moment made his entree, 
 and appeared surprised, though pleased, to find 
 Huntley in the circle. Matthew seemed disposed 
 to renew his confidences to Rosina. 
 
 " The worst of it is, Rosina, I shall never have 
 an opportunity of improving my manners in this 
 wretched neighbourhood ; and manners are of 
 such immense consequence in a medical man ! 
 There's Parker, now, might cany off all our busi- 
 ness, if he had but good manners. Look at that 
 Mr. Huntley ! He's laughing and joking with 
 Mrs. Good and Lady AYorral, and yet, you 
 know, he is not acquainted with any of their con- 
 nexions, so that one would think he could have 
 nothing but the weather to talk to them about. 
 I think I shall go and profit by his agreeable 
 nothings." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 117 
 
 Matthew quitted his seat, but before he attained 
 the object of his journey, he was arrested by Miss 
 PhcEbe Holland. 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Matthew, / saw you ride by to-day 
 on your mare ! "Where were you going ? " 
 
 " To see some very pretty young ladies, I can 
 tell you, Miss Phoebe." 
 
 " Some very pretty young ladies ? Well, who 
 could they be ? I don't think there are many 
 pretty young ladies in this neighbourhood." 
 
 " Oh, pardon me, Miss Phoebe, I think I could 
 name two or three." 
 
 " Dear me, could you .? " said she, laugliing, and 
 evidently thinking that she must be included in 
 the number. " Well now, really, with the excep- 
 tion of your sisters, I should be puzzled to find 
 any. Fanny Good, to be sure, will be a beauty 
 some of these days, but she's so very young yet. 
 I should hardly think you alluded to any young 
 ladies that weren't in their teens." 
 
 " Oh, but indeed I did — to one."- 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! — Well, at any rate your pretty 
 young ladies this morning were not in the imme- 
 diate neighbourhood, or else you woiUd not have 
 gone on horseback." 
 
118 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " That's a clever guess of yours. Now try then, 
 if you can guess their name." 
 
 "Let me see. The Fields?" 
 
 " You don't call them beauties, I hope ? "" 
 
 " He, he ! Oh, there's no accounting, you 
 know, for tastes — I dare say they have their ad- 
 mirers. Well then — the Joliffes ? " 
 
 " Out again.'' 
 
 " The Miss Petersons ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Tell me in which direction you rode — east, 
 west, north, or south ? " 
 
 " Oh, that would be telling you at once." 
 
 " Not the Petersons ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor the Joliffes?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Nor the Fields?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, I o-ive up." 
 
 " The Miss Hinckleys." 
 
 " Was it indeed ! 
 
 Matthew had now exhausted his " agreeable 
 nothings," so he walked off. 
 
 After tea. Lady Worral made up her card-table, 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 119 
 
 and the young people gathered before the open 
 window, which looked out on a terrace. 
 
 " Wliy should not we take a turn in the 
 grounds } " said Matthew, " it would be pleas- 
 anter, this hot evening, than staying in doors." 
 
 " Yes, it would be delightful," said Rosina, run- 
 ning down the steps. 
 
 "Be prudent, young ladies," cried Mr. Good 
 from his card-table — " there is an insidious air 
 stirring this evening. It is very disinterested of 
 me to give you warning." 
 
 " Yes, but very sly of you, Mr, Good," returned 
 Mr. Russell, " to bring out a young pupil whose 
 temptations to imprudence are hkely to meet with 
 more attention than your warnings. Come, shall 
 we be imprudent enough to follow the general ex- 
 ample .'' " added he, offering his arm to Hannah. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Russell," cried Lady Worral, 
 " you had better follow the youngsters, to keep 
 them in order. I'm sorry, young ladies, there's 
 no chaperon for you — however, Bessy Holland is 
 only a year younger than Mrs. Wellford, so she'll 
 do quite as well." 
 
 Miss Holland laughed as gaily as she could, 
 
120 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 and took Matthew's offered arm. " Which way 
 shall we go ? " said she. 
 
 " What is that curious old building I see among 
 the trees ? " said Huntley. " Is it a ruin } " 
 
 " That is the belfry," said Rosina ; " Sir John 
 Worral rung many a peal in it ; and after his death 
 the country people used sometimes to fancy on 
 stormy nights, that they heard his ghost still try- 
 ing the chimes." 
 
 " Indeed ! I should like to have a nearer view 
 of it." 
 
 Huntley placed himself between Rosina and 
 the youngest Miss Holland ; and Hannah and 
 Mr. Russell soon found themselv.es left be- 
 hind. 
 
 " I was not a little astonished," said Mr. Rus- 
 sell, " to find Mr. Huntley domesticated here this 
 evening. Has he some spell which opens the 
 doors of people's houses ? How did Lady Worral 
 become acquainted with him ? " 
 
 " She met him sketching in her park this morn- 
 ing," said Hannah, " and as ceremony seldom pre- 
 vents her from accosting any one who comes in 
 her way, they entered into conversation, in the 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 121 
 
 course of which she discovered him to be the 
 gi'andson of an old acquaintance. 
 
 " An old acquaintance ! So far, so good," said 
 Mr. Russell, " I don't think Mr. Huntley would 
 impose on the old lady — " 
 
 " Impose ! surely not," said Hannah. " Besides, 
 she says he so closely resembles his grandfather 
 that she should have known him any where for a 
 Huntley." 
 
 " That is another lucky circumstance," ob- 
 served he, " for Lady Worral has a quick eye and 
 a good memory. Well, I am glad to have some 
 one's authority besides his own, for the respecta- 
 bility of his connexions. His manners indeed, 
 speak for themselves. Yet prepossessed as I was 
 by them, I could not help having a few misgiv- 
 ings, when it was too late, as to the propriety of 
 having introduced him to you while so shghtly 
 acquainted with his character. There is an appa- 
 rent candour, indeed, about him, which makes it 
 difficult to believe him other than what he seems ; 
 but so many virtues are requisite in the man 
 
 whom we admit into female society " 
 
 " I think you are unnecessarily apprehen- 
 sive," replied Hannah ; " Lady Worral confirms 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 liis assertion of respectable birth, and your cousin 
 Frank's intimacy with him relieves him from the 
 suspicion of being a bad moral character. His 
 varied talents render him a very amusing com- 
 panion, and that is all we shall ever think of 
 him." 
 
 " How can you be sure of that ? " said Mr. Rus- 
 sell. " From what Huntley said this evening to 
 Lady Won-al, it seems he means to stay in Sum- 
 merfield as long as he finds any thing here to 
 amuse or interest him. May not there be more in 
 that than meets the ear ? You see he is no longer 
 merely my acquaintance, but will be able to visit 
 here and at your mother's on his own ground. 
 The degree of intimacy which will follow will be 
 entirely voluntary ; and the more fascinating his 
 talents, the more firm will become his footing, tilit 
 
 at length it may be rather difiicult to " 
 
 " I know whom you are thinking of now, Mr. 
 Russell," said Hannah with an ingenuous expres- 
 sion of countenance, " but you need not alarm 
 yourself. There is no fear of Rosina." 
 
 " None, I believe ! none ! " returned Mr. Rus- 
 sell smiling with a relieved air. " Here is the 
 belfry," he presently obsen^ed, " but where are our 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 123 
 
 village belles ? In what direction, I wonder, 
 have Matthew and Mr. Huntley run away with 
 them, or have they run away with Matthew and 
 Mr. Huntley ? I am not so quick-witted as an 
 Indian, in following a trail." 
 
 " I think I hear Miss Phcebe Holland's voice to 
 the left," said Hannah. " Most likely they have 
 walked up the hill. See, here is a rose which has 
 dropped, or been thrown away." 
 
 " You would follow a trail better than I should. 
 Well, and has Rosina been very industrious with 
 her pencil ever since the lecture Mr. Huntley read 
 her on Friday night ? " 
 
 " Yes, she has endeavoured to improve on his 
 hints." 
 
 " And you also ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I have almost given up drawing. My 
 pursuit of success in that amusement always meets 
 with disappointment." 
 
 " With disappointment, does it ? Ahem ! Do 
 you know the genealogy of Disappointment ? I 
 will tell you her history. She was the daughter 
 of a certain couple called Ignorance and Expec- 
 tation ; but when Ignorance died, his widow mar- 
 ried an honest gentleman named Moderation, who 
 
 G 2 
 
124 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 carried her off to his country seat; and from 
 that day, Expectation never saw Disappointment 
 again." 
 
 " So, if we are moderate in our expectations, 
 we shall never be disappointed ; that is the moral 
 of your allegory, is it not ? " 
 
 " Stay, I must tell you what became of Disap- 
 pointment when she was thus unfeelingly deserted 
 by her mother. Miss Disappointment, being left 
 to her own devices, began, like other young ladies, 
 to look out for a husband. Now it so happened 
 that in the very garret adjoining her own lodged a 
 young poet, whose name — whose name was Al- 
 eander — and whose days and nights were devoted 
 to the composition of an epic poem. Well, 
 Hannah, Disappointment, artfully veiled, continu- 
 ally placed herself in his path — poets, you know, 
 love adventure and mystery — Alcander's curiosity 
 was excited, and he began to enquire who this 
 veiled fair one could be. Ask whom he would, he 
 could obtain no information, his friends shook 
 their heads and knew nothing about her: at last, 
 teazed by his importunity, one of them, a wag, 
 and rather an ill-natured one we must allow, told 
 wim her name was Success." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 125 
 
 " Oh, poor Alcander ! I see what is to happen 
 now. Under this mistake, you will make him 
 marry Disappointment. Well, pray go on." 
 
 " You are angry with Alcander's friend? but what 
 can one do when some pert young author is 
 continually troubhng one with his manuscript el- 
 fusions, but advise him to favour the world by 
 their publication ? Yes, Alcander, as you guess, 
 married Disappointment, his poem was rejected 
 by the booksellers, and poverty stared him in the 
 face. However, his wife proved herseir a useful 
 though mifavoured helpmate ; for she pointed out 
 to him the faults of his MS., assisted him in cor- 
 recting them, and gave him much valuable advice ; 
 so that, in time, he began to look on her hai'sh 
 features with composure, if not with affection. At 
 length he became one of the first writers of the 
 age ; Disappointment died ; and after a mode- 
 rately short courtship, he manied Success, whose 
 smiles conferred on him all the happiness a young 
 poet could desire. There, Hannah, have not I 
 wound up my story in the true novel like ipan- 
 ner?" 
 
 " I wish Rosina had been here ! " said Hannah. 
 
126 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Could not you write out that pretty allegory for 
 her, Mr. Russell ? " 
 
 "Write it out? Ah, Hannah, my days for 
 writing poetry are over, and it would cut a shabby 
 figure in plain prose. No, no, if you mean her 
 to benefit by the moral, she must have your own 
 version of the stgry." 
 
 They now came in sight of the rest of the 
 party, who were standing on the brow of the hill. 
 *' How composedly you two steady folks have 
 climbed up to us!" cried Rosina. "I dare say 
 you prefer a moral dissertation to the finest sunset 
 in the world." 
 
 " I repel such an accusation with scorn," said 
 Mr. Russell. "Yes; such a sunset as this, is 
 indeed worth seeing ! " 
 
 "Worth seeing! what an unpoetical phrase! 
 Mr. Huntley has been talking almost in blank 
 verse about those glorious gold and purple clouds. 
 Oh, they are beautiful ! most beautiful ! " 
 
 " Beautiful !" repeated Mr. Russell, " I am very 
 glad we do not hve in a slate-colour world," 
 
 " A slate-colour world I What an exceedingly 
 odd idea I " cried Miss Phoebe Holland. " Only 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 127 
 
 fancy how droll it would be to see skies, trees, 
 faces, water, and every thing slate-colour!" 
 
 "Ay, or yellow, as people do who have the 
 jaundice," said Matthew. 
 
 " A fine Claude-Lorraine effect, no doubt," cried 
 Huntley, laughing. 
 
 "And there are more unhappy victims still," 
 remarked Mr. Russell, " who labour under a moral 
 jaundice, and see every thing the sickly colour of 
 their own tempers. They are the most to be 
 pitied." 
 
 " Well, I'm sure we may be very thankful," 
 said Miss Holland, " that none of us are affected 
 by these horrible diseases bodily or mental." 
 
 "What amazing variety there is," said Mr. 
 Russell after a pause, " in those western clouds ! 
 Cannot you look at them till you fancy you behold 
 a fairy land of snow-white palaces and mountains, 
 golden lakes and sapphire streams ? " 
 
 " Often have / indulged in such dreams, I assure 
 you," said Huntley, " and sighed to awake to the 
 remembrance that we were not made to be the 
 tenants of such heavenly scenery," 
 
 " Not till the ' cloud-capped towers and gorgeous 
 palaces' of oiu: present residence are whelmed 
 
128 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 in final ruin ; but who knows ? we may then find 
 ourselves the denizens of a new land combining 
 the substantial beauty of the planet we now in- 
 habit with some of that fairy splendour which 
 mocks our grasp in the fleeting vajjours. — 
 
 ' What if earth 
 Be but the shadow of heaven, and things therein 
 Each to other lik§, more than on earth is thought?' " 
 
 " Well," said Miss Phoebe, after a pause which 
 to some of the party was awkward, and to others 
 full of thought, " I'm sure I always thought in the 
 future world we were to walk upon clouds." 
 
 " Had we not better think of returning ? " cried 
 Miss Margaret, " it's dangerous standing about." 
 
 " I think so too," said Miss Phoebe — " La ! there's 
 a cloud just the shape of a gigot sleeve ! — do let 
 us have a run down the hill " 
 
 She seized Rosina's arm as she spoke, and 
 darted off, followed by Miss Margaret and Mat- 
 thew. Mr. Russell offered an arm to Miss Holland, 
 and Huntley placing himself on the other side of 
 Hannah, easily managed to detach her from her 
 older escort as the path narrowed. 
 
 " Much character peeps out," said he in a low 
 voice, " even in passing remarks on a cloud. The 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 129 
 
 golden mists which supply the painter with hints 
 for canvasses yet unstretched, and the preacher 
 with glimpses of paradise, remind some ladies of a 
 gigot sleeve ! Oh, ' most odorous ' comparison ! " 
 " Dear me ! " cried Phcebe Holland at the same 
 instant to Rosina, as she stood fanning herself 
 with her handkerchief at the foot of the hill, " Mr. 
 Russell is a very nice sort of a man and very 
 good and so on, but he's always bringing in 
 speeches about heaven and that sort of thing, isn't 
 he? And really I think it's rather ill-bred, for 
 it stops one from laughing and one don't always 
 know how to answer him." 
 
 "I think you are rather severe on poor ]Mr. 
 Russell," said Rosina, who never could bear 
 agreeing with Phoebe Holland in any thing of 
 higher concern than the colour of a ribband ; " no 
 one can accuse him of quoting Scripture out of 
 season ; and as to his similes and speculations, I 
 think they are very pleasing and striking; and 
 mamma thinks so too." 
 
 " Well, well, but let me just give you an in- 
 stance of what I mean," resumed Miss Phoebe: 
 
 " suppose Mr. Russell " 
 
 *' Who speaks of Mr. Russell ?" cried he, a few 
 
 G 3 
 
130 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 paces in the rear, " take care, Miss Phoebe, that I 
 overhear no secrets." 
 
 " La, Mr. Russell ! how fast you and Bessy- 
 have come down the hill ! Listeners, you know, 
 never hear any good of themselves." 
 
 " Don't they, though ?" cried Matthew.—" Re- 
 member, Miss Phcebe, what / overheard between 
 two certain ladies, one night, at Mrs. Green- 
 way's ! Do you recollect ?" 
 
 " Oh, Mr, Wellford, for goodness' sake, don't 
 tell that silly story now, I beg ! If you do, I'll 
 never forgive you !" cried she in distress, partly 
 real, partly affected. 
 
 " Well, I'll be upon honour," replied he, with a 
 triumphant smile. 
 
 " I'm sure I hope," whispered Phoebe Holland, 
 pulling Rosina back to let the others pass, " that 
 Mr. Russell did'nt overhear us. He made me 
 start, did he not you ? He has such a keen, sly 
 way of looking at one sometimes, just as if he 
 could see into one's thoughts ; and one likes to be 
 on good terms with the clergyman, especially 
 where there's so little change of society. Do you 
 know I sometimes fancy he thinks seriously of 
 Bessy, for he pays a great deal more attention to 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 181 
 
 her than to either of us young ones. I wonder if 
 any thing will ever come of it. But, my dear, do 
 tell me who that agreeable Mr. Huntley is. It 
 seems you have met him before." 
 
 Poor Rosina was always extremely annoyed 
 when she fell into the clutches of Phoebe Holland, 
 for whose weak understanding and frivolous con- 
 versation she had very little tolerance. Miss 
 Phoebe had a sort of instinctive awe of Hannah's 
 quiet, gentle dignity, but she chose to fancy 
 there was a great similarity of tastes between 
 herself and Rosina, who found some difficulty in 
 checking her attempts at confidential intimacy. 
 Most girls have been exposed to the advances of 
 some such undesirable acquaintance, and they are 
 happy who are able to draw a hue which gently, 
 but steadily, intimates to the fair intruder that so 
 far she may come but no further. On the present 
 occasion, Rosina, upon her return to Lady Wor- 
 ral's drawing-room, was unwilHngly detained from 
 the group formed by her brother and sister, Mr. 
 Russell, Mr. Huntley, and the elder Miss Hol- 
 lands, by a long detail of Phoebe's concerning the 
 how-and-about of the approaching maniage of 
 Sophia Jane Browne, one of her vulgar cousins, to 
 
132 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 a Mr. Higgs or Briggs. All very interesting to 
 the parties concerned, no doubt ; but what indif- 
 ferent person could be expected to Hsten with 
 satisfaction, or even patience, to the courtship 
 between a Miss Browne and a Mr. Briggs ? Rosina 
 listened with divided attention as she caught 
 snatches of the distant repartee and tantalizing 
 laugh. At lengthf Mr. Huntley approached her, 
 followed by Matthew. 
 
 " Would it be treason," said he, " to break in 
 on such confidential and intellectual intercourse 
 as you two ladies are doubtless sharing, wp.- a 
 request for a little music V 
 
 " I am afiraid, Mr. Huntley, you are very 
 satirical. You do not give us credit in your heart 
 for conversing in a manner either confidential or 
 intellectual." 
 
 " Upon my word I do. Why else have you 
 ' sat apart' like Milton's angels, without deigning 
 to listen to the innocent trifles at which Miss 
 Wellford and Miss Holland have been laughing? 
 In the midst of their mirth and of my folly, I 
 could not help glancing occasionally towards this 
 bow- window, where, I conjectured you were en- 
 tertaining 'thoughts more elevate' and holding 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 133 
 
 debate on — what shall I say ? — not on fate and 
 fore-knowledge, but on 
 
 Broken hearts and vows, sleeves, bonnets, caps, 
 Bills registered, and expectations sure. 
 
 Was I far fi-om the truth ?" 
 
 " I shall not tell you. Why should ladies be 
 unable to talk of any thing better than bonnets 
 and caps?" 
 
 " I do not question the ability, — only the will. 
 They may talk of better things — they cannot talk 
 of prettier things — unless they talk of them- 
 seh'-.." 
 
 Miss Phoebe laughed. Matthew thought the 
 last turn very neat. 
 
 " But with regard to bonnets," continued Hunt- 
 ley, sitting down by Rosina, "there may be a 
 gTcat difference of tastes between us. Now, I 
 once had a conversation about bonnets with a 
 Royal Academician " 
 
 " With a Royal Academician !" 
 
 " Yes ; why not ? Is there anything so very 
 odd in a Royal Academician's condescending to 
 analyze the beauty or deformity of a bonnet ? 
 We agreed that the more colourless, battered, and 
 mis-shapen it could be, the better." 
 
134 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " The better !" 
 
 "Yes — for pictorial purposes. I was painting 
 a fancy portrait of a young lady sitting out of 
 doors, and we had down all my mother's and 
 sister's bonnets to see which would come in 
 best. There was a black silk, and a white satin, 
 and a Dunstable straw, and a pink crape. Not 
 one of them was picturesque. We had up the 
 maid servant's — her best and her worst. — Still too 
 good. At that moment, a little beggar-girl hap- 
 pened to be hanging over the rails. We threw 
 up tlie window, concluded the bargain in two 
 minutes for ninepence, and took in the old hat on 
 a stick. It was the essence of shape and colour! 
 My dainty lady-sitter would, however, by no 
 means put it on, so we fitted it on a block. It 
 was tlie admiration of all Somerset House ! — After 
 this, madam, do not suppose it beneath a man's 
 genius to think of a bonnet !" 
 
 Huntley paused, and then renewed his request 
 for music. 
 
 " Have you any idea on what sort of an instru- 
 ment you are inviting me to play ?" said Rosina. 
 
 *' No, its outward appearance is certainly rather 
 antique, but is it so miserable a piano ?" 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 136 
 
 " A harpsichord of the worst description. The 
 first chord I should strike on its jingling keys 
 would make you run out of the room." 
 
 " Oh tenible ! I certainly think people are not 
 justified in inviting acquaintance to their houses 
 unless they are provided with some means of 
 entertaining them." 
 
 " Why, as to that," interposed Matthew, " if 
 people are but got together, no matter how, I 
 thmk they may always entertain themselves." 
 
 " By laughing at each other?" 
 
 " No — by talking, as we are doing now." 
 
 " Oh — entertaining themselves by entertaining 
 each other. Why, as to talking as we are doing 
 now, that is beyond the power of some. People 
 are so foolish as generally to set about talking on 
 those tilings of which they know least. A musi- 
 cian tries to discuss soups and pdtis very scien- 
 tifically with an epicure, the epicure makes blun- 
 ders about crotchets and graves. A lady talks to 
 a gentleman of politics, and he returns the com- 
 pliment by expatiating on bonnets." 
 
 " Well, and in this way you get a great deal of 
 general conversation." 
 
 " Yes, they do well to stick to generals, for not 
 
136 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 one of them is competent to descend into par- 
 ticulars. To prevent their finding out each other's 
 deficiencies, there ought to be the requisites for 
 music and dancing, portfohos of prints, or cos- 
 tumes for proverbs and charades — " 
 
 " Charades ? what are they ? " inquu'ed Miss 
 Phcebe. 
 
 " Is it possible 'you have never seen an acted 
 charade ? Oh, it is the prettiest amusement in 
 the world, and allows the fi-eest scope imaginable 
 for fine wit, fine dresses, and fine attitudes. Could 
 not we get one up now ? These folding doors 
 would be very convenient, and I should think 
 Lady Worral's wardrobe would fimiish a most 
 amusing assortment of costumes." 
 
 " Yes, for old aunts and gTandmothers," said 
 Rosina, " but are the actors' speeches extempore ? 
 It must be very difficult — " 
 
 " Oh, by no means — even the Bourgeois Gen- 
 tilhomme could speak prose without knowing it ; 
 and as for blank verse, — if you are at no loss for 
 sentiments, the metre will come of itself" 
 
 " I doubt that," said Matthew, taking a deep 
 breath. 
 
 " 'Tis the easiest thing in the world," cried 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 137 
 
 Huntley. " Why, I could talk to you in blank 
 verse for an hour together if you would listen to 
 me, no matter the subject. Lend me your 
 ears- 
 He talked in metre, for the metre came ; 
 Not like the coach of Chronouhotonthologus 
 Which came not when 'twas summoned, for the metre 
 Came without calling. Therein was the difference ; 
 And judgement's shewn in shewing differences, 
 As wit in shewing likenesses. 
 
 Miss Phoebe, how do you like my speaking in 
 blank verse ? " 
 
 " Oh, excellent, excellent ! " cried she, laughing. 
 " Pray do it again." 
 
 " 'Tis gone ! " said Huntley, waving his hand, 
 " the spirit has passed." 
 
 " But do tell us more about these charades, 
 Mr. Huntley," said Rosina. " Cannot you de- 
 scribe one to us ? " 
 
 " Not, I fear, so as to give you any idea of their 
 spirit. But I wiU just sketch you an outline. 
 Imagine us all to be sitting here in darkness, as 
 spectators, while those folding doors shut out half 
 a dozen actors from our view. Well ; the door 
 opens ; we see an extemporaneous shop-counter, 
 with a tradesman behind it setting out his wares, 
 
138 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 consisting of cutlery. In comes a very dandified 
 customer. " Ah ! — hum — ha ! — my fine feller — 
 what did you mean by impertinently furnishing 
 me with — a — hum — ha ! — a perfectly useless com- 
 modity ? ' — ' A parfactly useless commodity, sar, 
 I don't understand what you mean.' — ' Come, 
 come, Mr. a — razor-stropper, if — a — you make 
 any difficulty in taking back your bad goods and 
 restoring me my money, I shall — a — take the dis- 
 agreeable trouble of ejecting you and your manu- 
 factures into the street ' — ' Sar ! let me tell you, 
 sar, I won't put up with no such language, sar, 
 firom no man, neither will I return your money, 
 nor permit you to haul me over my counter.' — 
 * Why, what, what, what, what (stuttering with 
 rage,) do you mean by this impertinence ? ' — ' Sar, 
 'tis you sar, that are impartinent.' — ' Your razors 
 are totally without edge, they are good for no- 
 thing ' — ' Sar, you mistake, they answer the pur- 
 pose they were made for parfactly well.' — ' Why, 
 you old Jew ! you won't tell me that to my face, 
 ^vill you ? What are razors made for, if not to 
 cut ? ' — ' Sar, they are made to sell.^ On this, a 
 scuffle ensues and the scene closes. Can you 
 guess the syllable ? " 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 130 
 
 " Jew ? razor ? " 
 
 " No — no. Well, in the next scea\e, we have a 
 lady sitting down to dine without her husband, for 
 whom she has vainly waited, and at the same time 
 a couple of poor cousins drop in, who are not 
 above taking rather mean methods of procuring an 
 invitation to dinner. Mrs. Smith, the lady of the 
 house, has a cutlet for herself, as she cannot touch 
 her husband's favourite dish of mackarel, of which 
 her cousins profess themselves immoderately fond. 
 Tliey apply themselves to the fish, but their appe- 
 tites, which a moment before had appeared very 
 keen, are now visibly damped. Cousin Peter 
 calls for a bone-plate, and watching his opportu- 
 nity, places it on his knees beneath the tablecloth. 
 He and his wife exchange wry faces. The con- 
 versation proceeds with a good deal of humour 
 and equivoque, when the hostess is called from 
 table by a lamentable accident in the nursery — 
 possibly one of her children has fallen into the 
 fire, or out of window. No sooner has she hastily 
 quitted the apartment than Cousin Peter and his 
 wife begin their lamentations — ' My dear, did you 
 ever taste such mackarel?' — 'Taste, my love? 
 
140 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 The smell has been enough for nie — it is in what 
 our worthy friend Pat Brady would call the high- 
 est state of petref action.'' — ' Then how did you 
 manage to ask for a second helping ? ' — Peter pro- 
 duces the plate from between his knees, they 
 laugh, and the scene closes as he proceeds to 
 throw its contents out of window. Cannot you 
 guess now?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I think your brother has guessed. Well, now 
 for the finale. Enter Mrs. Germaine to her dear 
 friend Lady Mary, who is always willing to per- 
 form good-natured actions when they give her no 
 maimer of inconvenience. ' My dear Lady Mary, 
 I am come to beg a little favour.' — ' Oh, dearest 
 Mrs. Germaine, pray name it; I am always so 
 
 happy ' ' Why, my dear creature, it is merely 
 
 this. I have a family of country cousins come to 
 spend a week with me, and as I wish to make 
 their time pass pleasantly, I shall be excessively 
 obhged to you if you will lend us your opera box 
 to-night.' ' Why really, my dear Mrs. Germaine, 
 I should be delighted to do so, but it happens 
 that to-night it will be particularly inconvenient, 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 141 
 
 ■ — for — I have a new hat which I have set my 
 heart on weaiing, — and — I expect to see Colonel 
 Jonquil, who will bring me information about the 
 sweet little French poodle he promised to buy for 
 me, — so that really, — you see, my dear creature, 
 how I am situated.' ' Well, dear Lady Mary, I 
 own 1 am disappointed, as you have so often said 
 your box was at my service, — however, perhaps 
 on Saturday,' ' Saturday ? oh certainly — though, 
 now I recollect, there is a new opera coming out 
 on that night, and you know I am so passionately 
 fond of music ! But I will keep a place for you ! ' 
 ' Thank you, but I cannot leave my cousins.' — 
 ' Well then, any evening after this week.' — 
 ' I am much obliged to your ladyship, but my 
 guests leave me on Monday.' ' How very annoy- 
 ing! Well, I'm sure I am amazingly provoked 
 at being unable to oblige you, but you see it is so 
 completely out of my power.' ' Oh, pray make 
 no excuse.' ' Any thing else,'' ' Yes, yes, I un- 
 derstand your ladyship.' ' Or any other time.^ 
 * Certainly, certainly, I feel your kindness. The 
 disappointment is of no consequence.' — (Aside, as 
 she goes out. ' I shall know, in future, how to 
 value the goodnature of Lady Mary.') " 
 
142 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Oh, Mr, Huntley ! I have guessed ! It is 
 sel-Jish, is not it?" 
 
 •' Undoubtedly." 
 
 " How excellent ! how entertaining ! Do let 
 us ask Lady Worral's consent to a charade. Lady 
 Worral, will you grant us a favour ? " 
 
 " Let us hear it first," said her Ladyship, with- 
 out looking up from her cards. 
 
 " Mr. Huntley has a charming amusement to 
 propose. It is something like a play — " 
 
 " And where is he to find actors, scenery, and 
 dresses ? " 
 
 " Mr. Huntley ! do you hear ? " 
 
 " Oh, your ladyship's furniture and wardrobe 
 will be amply sufficient for the two latter, and as 
 for the actors, I doubt not some of the present 
 company will lend their assistance, with your 
 ladyship's permission." 
 
 " My ladyship will permit no such thing," re- 
 plied Lady Worral bluntly. " A fine thing, in- 
 deed, for my dresses and furniture to be pulled 
 about by a set of racketty young people, and for 
 unmanied young ladies and clergymen to act 
 stage-plays! No, no; the Miss Darevilles' act- 
 ing in the Fair Penitent and She Stoops to Con- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 143 
 
 quer thirty years ago, gave me a sickening of 
 private theatricals. Miss Rosina will favour us 
 with a song, I dare say." 
 
 " I am terribly hoarse," said Rosina. 
 
 " Then your voice would never do for the 
 stage," observed Lady Worral. " Come, come, 
 open the harpsichord; and if you won't play, 
 perhaps Phoebe Holland will." 
 
 Miss Phcebe only required a little pressing from 
 Matthew and Mr. Huntley to consent; and she 
 favoured them with a ballad which though it had 
 been ground for six months on the London 
 hand-organs, had not yet lost its novelty in Sum- 
 merfield. She maintained her seat at the in- 
 strument till Huntley began to repent his original 
 proposal for music. Rosina made some amends 
 by singing ' Come unto these yellow sands,' in a 
 young, rich voice that might have suited Ariel ; 
 and Mr. Good joined Huntley in supplying the 
 chorus. In another half-hour, the whole party 
 were returning through the park. 
 
 At the park-gates, the Goods and Hollands 
 wished their companions good night. Mr. Rus- 
 sell and Mr. Huntley, who had walked beside 
 Mrs. Wellford and Hannah, proposed seeing them 
 
144 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 home; and Matthew, who led the way with 
 Rosina, soon left the more leisurely pedestrians 
 behind. 
 
 " What a pleasant evening this has been !" said 
 Rosina. 
 
 " Famous ! " said Matthew, " I only wish Sam 
 Good had been with us." 
 
 " I am sure I wish no such thing," said Rosina. 
 
 " Sam is a good fellow," replied Matthew, 
 " though, I allow, not equal to this Mr. Huntley. 
 And yet we might have been as merry, if instead 
 of him, we had had Sam." 
 
 " Oh, Matthew ! how can you think so ! " 
 
 " You are all for new faces, Rosina — I am more 
 steady to old ones. What do we know of this 
 fine rattling gentleman ? There is a something 
 about him, certainly, which I feel I want — a kind 
 of ease, oif-handedness, lightness, brilliancy, what 
 French people call je ne sgai quoi — and yet I 
 can't recollect any thing he said which was par- 
 ticularly clever — nothing equal to that bon-mot of 
 Sam's " 
 
 " Oh, Matthew, do not give me any of Sam's 
 bon-mots to-night." 
 
 " Very well — you are punishing yourself, for 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 145 
 
 the bon-mot was a veiy good one. Here we are. 
 How brightly the moon shmes ! What an im- 
 mense time they are coming down the lane ! 
 Well, good night ; you know I am impatient to 
 return to * The Last of the Mohicans. ' " 
 
 VOL. I 
 
146 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DRAWING LESSONS, GRATIS. 
 
 Mr. Huntley was indefatigable in the practice of 
 his art. He rose with the lark, and, sketch-book 
 in hand, roamed daily in search of the pictur- 
 esque, till scarcely a tree or tenement, cottage or 
 cottager, but had found a place in his portfolio. 
 The rural housewives were pleased with the clever 
 young gentleman who praised the beauty of their 
 children, asked leave to copy their old tables and 
 chairs, and shewed them the views he had aheady 
 taken of the church and the vicarage. They 
 were proud that he should think it worth his 
 while to copy anything of theirs into his book, 
 and remarked to one another that whereas they 
 had 'heard say' that painters got great sums 
 of money from gentlefolks for drawing their pic- 
 tures, this young painter was another guess sort 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 147 
 
 of body, for he gave half-pence and sixpences 
 to folks for letting their likenesses be taken. 
 Huntley viewed with complacence the heads of 
 John Giles, and Joe Barton, and Mary Smith, of 
 which he had thus been enabled to make studies ; 
 but there was a darling wish of his soul yet un- 
 satisfied — every time he saw Hannah Wellford, he 
 was more and more struck with her Madonna- 
 like loveliness ; and his desire to paint her por- 
 trait was increased rather than diminished by the 
 improbability of obtaining her consent. He often 
 tried to sketch the outline of her placid features 
 from memory, and as often gave up the attempt 
 in despair. 
 
 Huntley frequently spent his evenings at the 
 vicarage ; and the knowledge that Mr. E,ussell was 
 ' V ami intime'' at the White Cottage would have 
 induced him to have requested his intercession, 
 had not a certain indescribable feeling persuaded 
 him that Mr. Russell would be the worst person 
 in the world to entrust with such an office. 
 " I shall remain here a little longer, however, for 
 the chance," thought Huntley ; and his two or three 
 days at the White Hart accordingly lengthened 
 into two or three weeks. 
 
 H 2 
 
148 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 One morning, soon after the party at Lady 
 WoiTal's, Huntley called at the White Cottage, 
 ostensibly to ask Rosina for his little book, if she 
 had no longer any need of it. The two young 
 ladies and then* mother were seated at a table 
 covered with work and drawing materials ; and 
 Rosiua, at his earnest entreaty, was prevailed on 
 to shew him the sketch which she had coiTccted 
 according to his directions Huntley was surpnsed 
 and pleased at the intelligence with which she had 
 acted on his hints; he spoke to her with real 
 interest and enthusiasm of his art; not as if he 
 were dressing his thoughts to please the idle fancy 
 of a mere common-place young lady, but as if he 
 felt he was addressing himself to one who could 
 appreciate sense and genius. Not only Rosina, 
 but her mother, and sister, listened with delight. 
 " This is a surprising young man," said Mrs. 
 Wellford when he was gone. " I hope you will 
 have the good sense, Rosina, to improve by iiis 
 instructions without being spoilt by his praise." 
 " Certainly, certainly," replied Rosina hastily, 
 " you see, mamma, he speaks to me as if I were 
 a reasonable being. He tells me my faults." 
 Hannah thought this was the first time her sister 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 149 
 
 had ever mentioned that circumstance in any one's 
 commendation. 
 
 The next day, and the next, and the next, 
 Mr. Huntley "looked in," as he said, "just for a 
 minute," to direct Rosina's pencil ; and the minute 
 was lengthened into an hour, often passed in 
 nearly unbroken silence, but silence tliat spoke. 
 A word, a direction, set Rosina to work with an 
 industry and interest in her subject which pre- 
 cluded her joining in conversation: Huntley cast 
 the drapery or placed the bust which she was to 
 copy, in the right light, and then sat half behind 
 her chair, watching his pupil's progress with real 
 interest, and speaking from time to time to Mrs. 
 Wellford or admiring Hannah's profile as she bent 
 over her work. The quiet and orderliness of these 
 academical proceedings, in which Mrs. Wellford 
 always took a share, prevented her fi'om infusing 
 any coldness into her manner when the young 
 artist with a whimsical, hsflf-apologetic tone dail}'^ 
 entered with, " Well, madam, here I am again, 
 you see, punctual as the clock — there will be no 
 breaking off my bad habit unless you fahly turn 
 me out." 
 
 " So, Rosina ! " said Mr. Russell one afternoon 
 
150 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 as he passed the garden gate and saw her just 
 within it, collecting some columbine seed, "you 
 are taking regular drawing-lessons, I find." 
 
 " Who told you so ? " said she, blushing. 
 
 " What does that signify ? Would it alter the 
 case? I suppose you will be a Mrs. RafFaelle 
 some of these days." 
 
 Whether Mr. 'Russell used these words in the 
 sense in which Rosina took them, remains to be 
 proved, but certain it is tliat she blushed ama- 
 zingly. 
 
 " Did a little Italian boy come here this morning, 
 with some plaster casts ? " pursued he, worrying 
 off a twig of sweet briar as he spoke. 
 
 " Oh yes," cried Rosina starting up and letting 
 fall her columbine seed, " I bought half his re- 
 maining stock. Luckily Mr. Huntley was here, so 
 that he told me which were worth buying and 
 which were not. The boy was quite a model for 
 a painter, was he not? Mr. Huntley had a great 
 mind to take his likeness, and he talked to him 
 for some time in Italian. I was so sorry I did not 
 understand Italian ! But Mr. Huntley told me the 
 boy said his name was Domenico and that he 
 came fi'om Lucca." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 151 
 
 "Which perhaps the urchin might have told 
 you, if you had asked him in Enghsh. However, 
 it is a very good thing to be able to speak Italian. 
 Have you finished the first volume of Dr. Clarke's 
 Remains ? " 
 
 " Not quite. Are you in want of it ? " 
 
 " No, there is no hmTy — I shall not retmii it 
 till Mr. Huntley goes to town, which I suppose 
 wiU be tliis week or the next. Most probably he 
 will be polite enough to take charge of a pai'cel. 
 Good afternoon, Rosina ; you have an hour's 
 work before you, I see, in picking up that colum- 
 bine seed." 
 
 Huntley often wished that Hannah had pos- 
 sessed Rosina's genius, or Rosina, Hannah's 
 beauty. Fate seemed to oblige him to be most 
 occupied with the sister who attracted him least. 
 It was always Rosina whose drawings he had to 
 correct, to whose accompaniment he was to sing, 
 and to whose sallies he was to find suitable 
 repartees : and thus, without the smallest inten- 
 tional deceit, it was natural for both sisters to be- 
 Ueve that Rosina was preferred. How it happen- 
 ed that Hannah's tranquil countenance and man- 
 ner should have more charms for the artist than 
 
152 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Rosina's glowing complexion, brilliant eyes, and 
 quickness of intellect, can only be accounted for 
 on the principle that people irequently are most 
 attracted by their opposites. Hannah's want of 
 genius in Huntley's favourite art vexed him no 
 farther than as it prevented his having so much 
 direct intercourse with her as with her sister : " it 
 would not heighteii her beauty " thought he, " nor, if 
 she should, some happy day, become a painter's 
 wife, would it be necessary or desirable that both 
 of us should pamt. — Easel of my easel and brush 
 of my brush would soon cease to be either con- 
 venient or entertaining." So Huntley contentedly 
 returned to watch Rosina's progress. 
 
 The very best efforts of a female pencil or 
 brush must always fall far below those even of 
 many second-rate masters. "The mind," as Dr. 
 Johnson said of Barry, "does its part;" but the 
 hand fails. The knowledge of anatomj^ is want- 
 ing, and even Angelica Kauffmann, who went 
 through an ordeal to which no woman of delicacy 
 would submit*, can only claim the merit of being 
 a graceful artist ; a painter among ladies, but 
 only a lady among painters. Demi-talent is all 
 
 * Her father used to take her to the Academy in boy's clothes. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 153 
 
 that is granted us. If the hand is mechanically 
 obedient to the eye, grasp of mind and accurate 
 knowledge of the human figure ai'e wanting: if 
 the imagination is brilliant, the mind is willing, 
 but the hand is found to be weak. How should 
 it be otherwise ? When it is considered that art 
 is long, but life is short, that the painter must 
 rise early and study late, scarcely let an hour pass 
 without a line, try chemical experiments for 
 the improvement of his perishable materials, 
 have an eye in all societies and situations for 
 draperies, physiognomies, lights, shades, and 
 happy effects ; and that all these must be worked 
 out on his canvass with patient labour, in spite 
 of temptations to pleasure or idleness, — that art, 
 in fact, besides the requisites of a cultiv^ated mind 
 and vigorous imagination, demands as complete 
 an apprenticeship as any handicraft trade, — it 
 must be seen that no woman with the thousand 
 breaks in on her leisure to which she is liable, can 
 hope to amve at perfection in this channing 
 pm'suit, consistently with the duties becoming 
 her sex; nor would any but the most egregious 
 vanity induce her to suppose that her casual 
 efforts could attain that which costs men of 
 
 H 3 
 
154 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 genius a lifetime. Nevertheless, without an un- 
 justifiable sacrifice of time, a female artist may 
 proceed to a certain point brilliantly, and excite 
 both pleasure and surprise, without provoking 
 envy. We are always struck at beholding eflfects 
 produced by apparently inadequate means ; and 
 intelligent artists, who are perfectly aware of the 
 gulf between them and their female competitors, 
 are always ready to yield indulgent praise to their 
 graceful compositions ; while the ladies are gene- 
 rally too proud that one of their sex should seem 
 likely to share the wreath with haughty man, to 
 be jealous at being individually excelled in so 
 quiet a pursuit. 
 
 Mr. Huntley watched Rosina's progress in the 
 same manner as a lettered sage might watch a 
 clever little girl learning to read ; feeling curious 
 to know how far she would proceed at the same 
 pace, though pretty certain she would never 
 gain the lofty eminence on which he himself 
 stood. Huntley's manner combined the indul- 
 gence and respect due to the sex of his scholar, 
 with the sympathy of one who knew every step of 
 the path she was treading ; and the satisfaction 
 with which he conversed with her on his favourite 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 155 
 
 ai't, contributed to prolong the mistake into which 
 the sisters had fallen. 
 
 There was a beautiful view to be seen from 
 Heeley Common, at about four miles' distance 
 from Summeriield, which Huntley had not yet 
 discovered; and Mrs. Wellford, finding herself 
 unable to give him an exact direction to the spot 
 in consequence of the vaiiety of tracks which 
 crossed the heath, proposed to shew him the way 
 in the afternoon. The distance was allowed to be 
 too great for female feet, but a donkey-chaise 
 could be borrowed of the Miss Hollands, by means 
 of which they might all have an agreeable excur- 
 sion. The young people were charmed with the 
 plan ; and soon after an eai'ly dinner, the donkey- 
 chaise was sent for and obtained. Mr. Russell 
 passed the cottage at the moment that the rural 
 equipage drew up ; and on learning the object of 
 the expedition, he said he would gladly form one 
 of the party. The sketch-books were safely 
 stowed beneath the seat ; and Mrs. Wellford, as- 
 suming the office of charioteer, asked which of the 
 young ladies intended to favour her with her com- 
 pany. 
 
 Rosina, for reasons well known to herself, had 
 
156 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 decided on walking ; and she said so much more 
 than the occasion required, about being an ex- 
 cellent pedestrian, never feeling tired, scorning 
 donkey-chaises, &c., that Hannah, without more 
 ado, took the vacant seat, and the party set off". 
 
 Mr. Russell offered his arm to Rosina, Huntley 
 walked next to her on the opposite side, and for 
 some little time, the whole party continued to- 
 gether, exchanging desultory remarks on the 
 scenery and the weather ; but presently coming to 
 a steep cart-track, Huntley ran forward to support 
 the chaise, which seemed to liim in imminent 
 danger of losing its balance, and he continued to 
 keep his hand on the side rail while answering 
 some inquiry of Mrs. Wellford's. Arrived at the 
 end of the lane, a fine turfy down opened before 
 them ; the donkey began to trot and Huntley to 
 run, still keeping his hold on the chaise elbow and 
 continuing his laughing dialogue with the ladies, 
 which, from the rattling of the wheels was ne- 
 cessarily carried on in a raised tone of voice. The 
 clear fresh air of the heath heightened the com- 
 plexions of Hannah and Huntley, each of whom 
 thought they had never seen the other look so 
 handsome; and the race continued till a slope in 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 157 
 
 the downs carried them out of sight of Rosiiia and 
 Mr. Russell. Hannah looked back after them 
 once or twice, and asked her mother if they had 
 not better wait. 
 
 " That is easier said than done, Hannah," re- 
 plied Mrs. Wellford, smiling, as she vainly pulled 
 the rein, " Our magnanimous donkey seems to 
 have snuffled inspiration from the breezy air." 
 
 " Is this your best driving, madam ? " asked 
 Huntley, gaily, " I thought you had been a better 
 whip. Ah, give him the rein ; you are hurting 
 your gloves more than his mouth. This un- 
 wonted speed will soon abate, depend upon it ; 
 and we may as well await our distanced com- 
 panions at the foot of the next hill as any where 
 else." 
 
 Acting on this resolution, they half traversed 
 Heeley common. 
 
 Rosina, in the mean while, had been rather an- 
 noyed at being left behind with Mr. Russell. 
 " He had joined them," she said to herself, " with- 
 out being wanted by any body, and now had 
 completely broken up the party." 
 
 •' Had not we better walk faster.?" said she. 
 
158 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 gently dragging him forward as she spoke : " they 
 will be out of sight presently." 
 
 But no : Mr. Russell hung heavy on hand. 
 
 " We cannot keep up with them," said he com- 
 posedly, " and I dare say they will wait for us at 
 the bottom of the slope." 
 
 " Oh, don't t^List to that," cried Rosina eagerly, 
 " for I know the Hollands's donkey of old, and 
 when it once takes to trotting on Heeley-heath, it 
 never stops till it reaches the foot of White-thorn 
 hill. 
 
 " In that case," replied Mr. Russell, " there is 
 still less chance of our keeping up with them ; so 
 you see, Rosina, it was a lucky thing I fell in 
 with you, or you would have been left to yourself." 
 
 " No, that 1 should not, I am sure," cried Ro- 
 sina, indignantly tossing her chin. " Don't you 
 think," resumed she, again endeavouring to impel 
 her companion a little faster, " that we had better 
 tiy to gain the slope at any rate, before they are 
 out of sight, that we may see which track they 
 take?" 
 
 " Oh ! " continued Mr. Russell, " I know my 
 way to the brow of the hill perfectly well." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 159 
 
 " But I am not so sure tliat mamma does," in- 
 terrupted Rosina. 
 
 " If she loses her way," replied he drily, " we 
 are not answerable for it ; since she has run away 
 from us, not we from her. However, we shall 
 all meet at our journey's end, I make no doubt." 
 
 Rosina could not help letting her lips betray 
 that note of impatience which can only be imper- 
 fectly implied on paper by the syllable " tut ! " 
 The vexation was increased by her imperturbable 
 companion's coming to a full stop, apparently for 
 no other purpose than to scent the reviving air. 
 
 " Delightful!" exclaimed he at length, with a 
 tone and countenance of keen enjoyment. " Here, 
 indeed, as your favourite Cowper expresses it, the 
 sense is regaled 
 
 ' With luxury of unexpected sweets.' " 
 
 " My favourite Cowper ! " repeated Rosina with 
 contempt, " Hannah's favomite Cowper, if you 
 please. I have no taste for such dull, prosy 
 \\T.-iters, who instead of giving airy nothings a 
 local habitation and a name, describe just what 
 is before their eyes and no more, with the accu- 
 racy of a camera obscura. The ' Lay of the Last 
 
160 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Minstrel' is worth all that a thousand Cowpers 
 could write. 'The Task' too! Such a name! 
 Enough to sicken one at the very outset. There 
 is a great deal in a name, though Juliet chose not 
 to think so ; and Cowper fixed on one equally 
 hateful to teacher and scholar." 
 
 " Very good, Rosina ! " said Mr. Russell laugh- 
 ing, there is much originality in what you say, 
 and I always derive amusement from your ideas, 
 though they are not — or more projierly, because 
 they are not in exact accordance with my own. 
 As to your opinion on the subject of names, I 
 agree with you that Miss Juliet Capulet was very 
 unadvised when she exclaimed, ' What's in a 
 name?' and that she would have been compelled 
 to answer ' a great deal,' if it could have been 
 proved that the so-called Signor Romeo Montague 
 had no right to any other appellation than plain 
 Stokes or Stubbs. Her love would speedily have 
 been nipped in the bud, we may be certain. I 
 myself am not a little proud of a name which 
 revives associations with the noble, the brave, and 
 the patriotic ; and Mr. Huntley would fall five per 
 cent, in your estimation, I dare say, if he were to 
 turn out a mere Smith or Williams." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES, 161 
 
 " Some people," said Rosina, " have more to 
 boast of than their names." 
 
 " Wliy, that is true, too," rejoined Mr. Hussell, 
 " and 1 think you, Rosina, are among the num- 
 ber; for Wellford is not a very striking name. 
 Rosina is pretty and Itahan-hke enough, but 
 Wellford has not much to recommend it. Take 
 my advice, therefore, and change it as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Russell " exclaimed Rosina 
 
 very pettishly. 
 
 " Really what, Miss Rosina ? " 
 
 " Why. you sometimes sicken me of sense ; but 
 your nonsense is ten times worse." 
 
 Mr. Russell laughed with such thorough good- 
 humour at this speech, that Rosina, fearful of 
 having rather exceeded the bounds of propriety, 
 began to think she might as well treat him with a 
 little more consideration. She was also aware that 
 she was exposing herself to ridicule by displaying so 
 much vexation at having been forsaken by Huntley. 
 For the next ten minutes, therefore, all was smooth 
 and agreeable. 
 
 At the expiration of that time, our walkers 
 gained the top of the slope, and could perceive no 
 
162 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 traces of their companions on the wide extended 
 heath before them. Rosina's irritation now re- 
 turned, and she declared that it was ill-natured of 
 her mother and Hannah to leave her behind, as 
 she was growing very tired. 
 
 " Indeed ? " cried Mr. Russell, " then you sadly 
 over-rated your^ powers when you said you were 
 sure you could walk to Heeley-hill and back with- 
 out fatigue ! Bless me, what can be done in this 
 emergency ? How came you so to deceive your- 
 self? But perhaps," added he, gleaming slyly at 
 her delicate chaussure and the pretty French glove 
 that rested on his arm, "perhaps your fatigue in 
 some measure depends on who is your com- 
 panion." 
 
 Rosina was too much provoked to answer. 
 
 *• Well then," pursued the abominable Russell, 
 " as silence gives consent, I am to infer that 
 Huntley is the happy man. Poor me! What 
 shall I do to render myself less obnoxious ? Shall 
 we turn back? I am entirely at your disposal. — 
 No ? — Well then, let us make the best of our way 
 forward, and I will make myself as agreeable as I 
 can. Shall 1 carry your parasol for you? — you 
 wont let me — come, then, that little bag; I long 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 163 
 
 to be of service. Are there any sand\\dches in 
 it.?" 
 
 "As if I should carry sandwiches!" said Rosina 
 half-laughing. 
 
 " It might be worse fiUed, though — this air is 
 what Mr. Green way calls 'very appetizing.' Are 
 you quite sure you are not deceiving me ? No — 
 here ai-e a cambric handkerchief, a smelling-bottle, 
 and some keys — oh, I understand; pockets are 
 gone out of fashion." 
 
 " You are mistaken, there are no keys." 
 
 " Are there not ? I thought there were. By the 
 by, Rosina, I have some news for you." 
 
 "Have you.?" 
 
 " Yes — concerning an old flirt and favourite of 
 yours. Can you guess whom I mean.?" 
 
 " No indeed." 
 
 " Try." 
 
 " An old favourite ? " 
 
 " And flu't too — very, very old." 
 
 " I am sure I cannot imagine," said Rosina, 
 carelessly, " unless it is Lewis Pennington." 
 
 " Unless! that is a lucky guess of yours, Rosina. 
 Yes, Lewis Pennington it is. I had a letter from 
 him this morning. He has left Oxford, and writes 
 to tell me that — what do you think ? " 
 
164 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " How can 1 tell what to think ? ' Lewis and I 
 used to be very good friends when we were child*- 
 ren, but really that is so long ago, that I have 
 nearly forgotten him. How can 1 guess what he 
 has written about .? " 
 
 " ' What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba? '" 
 repeated Mr. Russell ; " but indeed, Rosina, you 
 must shew a little more curiosity respecting my 
 intelligence before I communicate it. News, you 
 know, is a London staple ; and as silks, ribbons, 
 bobbins, every thing from the great metropolis, 
 has a neat little profit tacked on to it by the coun- 
 try retailer, so news is by far too scarce an article 
 in a small hamlet, to be disposed of for nothing. 
 Come, guess, guess ! — I had nearly said ' an' thou 
 lovest me.'" 
 
 Certainly Mr. Russell seems a little touched 
 this morning, thought Rosina: what can have 
 made him so exceedingly absurd? 
 
 " I suppose," said she with as unconcerned a 
 tone and look as possible, " Lewis is going to be 
 manied. If that is not it, I have nothing else to 
 guess. Whatever it is, I care very little about it." 
 
 " Can that be true, Rosina ? " 
 
 " Quite true, I assure you, Mr. Russell." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 166 
 
 "Oh, very well!" said he with a mischievous 
 smile, " I will not waste my news on a person 
 who does not care for it; and if, as I shrewdly 
 suspect, this indifference is only assumed, you 
 will deservedly punish yourself. Take care, how- 
 ever, that the news, when it does reach you, as 
 reach you it certainly will, does not come on you 
 like a thunderbolt." 
 
 " A thunderbolt! how absurd!" said Rosina. 
 
 " We shall see ! " said Mr. Russell, smiling. 
 
 He then continued to walk on, silently knock- 
 ing about the flints and pebbles which lay in the 
 path with his cane ; till Rosina, who was secretly 
 curious to know his mighty intelligence, asked 
 him if he expected, like the Duke in " As you 
 like it," to find a sermon in the stones. 
 
 " Why, possibly this flint," said Mr. Russell, 
 picking one up fi'om beneath his feet, " might, if 
 it had a tongue, chatter quite as much to the pur- 
 pose as many bipeds. ' For what reason,' we may 
 imagine it to exclaim, ^ am I left here in inglorious 
 solitude, wedged in coarse marie, or kicked out of 
 tlie way by every clouted peasant that crosses this 
 patb to pursue his daily labour, when many other 
 flints, by no means so comely as myself, are se- 
 
166 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 lected by the partial hand of man to raise the cot- 
 tage wall, or emit the generous spark ? ' Ah, fool- 
 ish flint! you know not of what you complain. 
 Borne hence in the object of your ambition, viz., 
 the flint-gatherer's basket, you would find your- 
 self exposed to many rude buffets in that world 
 which, at distaijce seen, so allures your inexpe- 
 rienced imagination. Hard blows from the work- 
 man's trowel, or stunning thumps against the 
 sturdy steel, administered by the greasy hands of 
 acookmaid; and even in repose— what repose! 
 the filthy darkness of a kitchen drawer! Be 
 grateftil to me, mistress Flint, for restoring you to 
 yom' inglorious but peaceful abode in the footpath, 
 where the soft breeze blows over you, the blue 
 sky shines above you, and the gorse and heather 
 bloom at your side ; and know that your fate is a 
 type of many a charming fair who sighs for the 
 gaiety of high life, but is luckily condemned to 
 remain in that seclusion where, would she but 
 discover it, the truest happiness is to be found! 
 Well, Rosina, have I discoursed most eloquent 
 nonsense ? " . 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Russell," said she, smiling, as 
 she felt her ill-humour rapidly tha-v\'ing away, " you 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 167 
 
 are a very odd sort of person, and though you like 
 teazing a little sometimes, it is impossible to be 
 out of temper with you long together." 
 
 " Out of temper !" exclaimed he; " 'do you con- 
 fess so much? Give me thy hand!' Come, E-o- 
 sina, answer as Brutus did, 
 
 ' And my heart with it ! ' 
 
 I will put no unfair interpretation on the words, 
 I promise you. You won't? Well then, I must 
 say that you are a very odd sort of person too, 
 and that it is impossible to be out of temper with 
 you long together. We have made up our recon- 
 ciliation just in time; for sure enough there is the 
 donkey chaise where you said it would be, at the 
 foot of the white-thorn hill. So now it will be but 
 fair that Hannah and Huntley should be left to 
 toil in the rear as we have done, while Mrs. Well- 
 ford, you, and I ascend the hill with the speed of 
 the wind." 
 
 Not even the conclusion of this speech could now 
 put Rosina out of humour. She walked forward 
 briskly, and they soon came up with the donkey- 
 chaise party, who looked the pictiu'e of content. 
 
168 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Huntley ran towards Rosina as she approached, 
 and offered her his arm. Thus supported on either 
 side, she told Hannah she could very well walk 
 up the hill, though her late complaints to Mr. 
 Russell shamed her from again maintaining that 
 she felt no fatigue. They all proceeded to their 
 place of destination; Rosina conversing with 
 Huntley in high spirits, and in the overflowing of 
 her satisfaction, bestowing many smiles and hvely 
 sallies on Mr. Russell. 
 
 " Aha !" thought he to himself, " my young 
 lady is fairly caught for the present; but it will 
 not last long, and I know why ! " 
 
 Without stopping to search into the meaning of 
 this mysterious " I know why," we must proceed 
 to the summit of the hill, where Mr. Huntley, as 
 all had expected, was much struck with the view 
 which opened before him. It was too extensive, 
 however, he said, to be a fit subject for a sketch : 
 it was vast, but not picturesque. Much was dis- 
 cussed, learnedly and unleamedly, on coufs (Tteil, 
 grand masses, broken foregrounds, light and shade. 
 At length Mrs. Wellford proposed returning, 
 
 " Mr. Russell does not seem quite ready to go," 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 169 
 
 observed Rosina. " See how pensively he stands 
 with folded ai'ms, quite absorbed in meditation ! 
 What are you considering, Mr. Russell?" 
 
 " Nothing veiy particular," replied he, turning 
 round with a smile, " I was merely letting myself 
 be breathed on by this delicious wind; or if I was 
 thinking at all, I believe it was that I felt rather 
 hungry." 
 
 " What a poetical confession ! " exclaimed Ro- 
 sina; " I expected to find you had been engaged 
 in some very sublime speculation." 
 
 " Give me leave to ask, Miss Rosina Wellford, 
 have you dined ^ " 
 
 " Yes, I have." 
 
 " Well, I have not ; therefore, the next time we 
 compare the relative sublimity of our ideas, pray 
 let us start fair on this point. At present, you 
 have the advantage of me." 
 
 The laugh was now against Rosina. Hannah 
 offered to walk, and her younger sister seated her- 
 self in the chaise without complaint. The walkers 
 and riders kept more together on their return than 
 they had done before ; and on reaching the White 
 Cottage they separated with mutual expressions 
 of satisfaction at their excursion. 
 
 I 
 
X7ii VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 PAINTING AL FRESCO. 
 
 The request was made and finally granted. Hunt- 
 ley, whose secret admiration of Hannah was daily 
 acquiring greater warmth and reality, at first play- 
 fully, then seriously, entreated her to sit to him 
 for her picture, and begged Mrs. Wellford to add 
 her persuasions to his own. The mother's pride 
 in her daughter's beauty was gratified ; she was 
 also gained by Huntley's manner; which seemed 
 to attach just sufficient, without too gTeat, import- 
 ance to the favour — respectful and unpresuming, 
 though tinctured with enthusiasm. Hannah was 
 astonished at the proposal, and shrunk with natu- 
 ral aversion from deliberately sitting to be looked 
 at; but when Huntley smilingly said he would 
 not insist on her fixing her eyes on his ugly face, 
 lamented the difficulty of finding good studies, 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 171 
 
 and in conclusion, proposed some fancy subject in 
 which he might also introduce the portraits of her 
 mother and sister, Hannah softened, and at length 
 yielded a reluctant consent. The subject was 
 rapidly chosen by the enthusiastic painter. It 
 should be the departure of Ruth and Naomi for 
 the Holy Land, and their parting trom Orpah. 
 Hannah's exquisite head was not of the oriental 
 style, but no matter; its character admirably ex- 
 pressed the moral beauty, grace, dignity, and 
 devotedness of the lovely Moabitess. Ilosina's 
 darker complexion would suit the affectionate 
 though inconstant Orj^ah excellently well; and 
 Mrs. Wellford's deeply shadowed eyes and expres- 
 sive countenance beneath a Jewish head-dress 
 could not fail to give interest to Naomi. Rosina 
 was enchanted with the subject, and her mother 
 and sister were scarcely less struck with Hunt- 
 ley's genius, when they saw his rough sketch 
 from the text, "Orpah kissed her mother-in- 
 law, but Ruth clave unto her." The woman 
 of many son-ows was seen turning her cheek to 
 the retiring Orpah, while Ruth, supporting her 
 arm and waist, looked up in her face with tender 
 devotedness as she prepared to lead her faultering 
 
 I 2 
 
172" VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 steps through the scorching desert which opened 
 before them. In the distance, amid pahns and 
 terebinths, were seen the walls and towers of the 
 city to which Orpah was retrnming, while over- 
 head was the glowing sky of an eastern climate. 
 Nothing had been forgotten which was necessary 
 to the complete developement of the scene. Ro- 
 sina saw at a glance, that Huntley's sketch of her 
 figure possessed much of the beau ideal, and at- 
 tributed to his partiality what she should rather 
 have laid to his science. The pannel, colours, 
 and brushes, arrived in a few days from town : 
 the former not exceeding the size of a cabinet 
 picture, as Huntley maintained that what would 
 be gained by increased space, would be lost in 
 delicacy, and that grandeur of design might as 
 well be compressed into a gem as expanded on an 
 altai'-piece. The question now became, where 
 should the sittings take place } The parlour was 
 too small to render the apparatus of oil-painting 
 very convenient or the smell very endurable ; be- 
 sides which, the casement-window, clustered with 
 jessamine, did not admit a sufficiently broad 
 light. It was unanimously resolved to place the 
 easel in the garden beneath the huge walnut tree. 
 
I 
 
 VILLAGE BELLES. 1173 
 
 The hedge was so high and thick, as to prevent 
 much chance of being overlooked ; but with the 
 assistance of Betty's clothes-props, lines, and 
 pegs, a sufficiently picturesque drapery was 
 stretched beneath the greenwood-tree to screen 
 them entirely from observation, and prevent the 
 fluttering of the leaves from interrupting the light. 
 Rosina, delighted with the romance and novelty 
 of the plan, the more so that it had been suggested 
 by the painter himself, thought of many little im- 
 provements, which she effected with great in- 
 genuity and self-approval. Behold, then, the 
 artist-lover, the walnut-shade his studio, the sun 
 and air the ready dryers of his colours, and the 
 green foliage and purple distance the appropriate 
 back-ground of his ' tableau mvante? Rosina 
 twined her mother an exquisite tm'ban from Hunt- 
 ley's fancy sketch ; the sketch was improved from 
 the tmban, and the tm'ban again from the sketch, 
 so that no head-dress could be more faultless. It 
 seemed a sin to cover more of Hannah's silky 
 tresses than was absolutely necessary, with a 
 muslin veil, carelessly thrown back ; and Rosina 
 wound a crimson scarf around her own dark braids 
 in a manner which she defied Mr. Huntley to 
 
174 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 prove had never been tlie fashion in Moab, and 
 which was too becoming for him seriously to cavil 
 at. An hour was spent in arranging every thing 
 conveniently ; in making the easel stand fom on 
 the uneven gi'ound ; in picking the teazing little 
 flies out of Huntley's oils and paints ; and in con- 
 triving that the sun should shine on the ladies 
 without tanning or blinding them. All these dif- 
 ficulties being mastered, Huntley commenced his 
 work with the most commendable alacrity. Of 
 the three sitters, or rather standers, Rosina had 
 certainly secretly felt by far the greatest pleasure 
 at the idea of having her picture taken by Mr. 
 Huntley ; yet, sooth to say, she was first to feel 
 tired. Vvliat she would have liked would have 
 been to sit in a chair, so that she could see the 
 artist, and every other minute to jump up and 
 watch his progress : instead of which, till the out- 
 line was got in, Huntley begged them all to stand 
 as still as possible, in easy attitudes, which, as she 
 truly observed, " were mighty difficult," her lips 
 on the point of touching her mother's cheek, and 
 her figure in such a graceful twist as to give her 
 an intolerable pain in the side. To do him jus- 
 tice, Huntley allowed them a momentary change 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 175 
 
 of posture every five minutes, and promised to 
 relieve two of the three in a quarter of an hour : 
 but his often repeated " one minute more " lasted 
 much longer than he had led them to believe, and 
 the earnestness with which he woi'ked made him 
 terribly silent. At length the ladies were released 
 from their purgatory ; the general effect, he told 
 them, was obtained ; and they gathered round the 
 easel to wonder and admire. Their encomiums 
 were such as might have satisfied any man not 
 bent on insisting that his admirers should be 
 thoroughly competent judges of his art ; the pic- 
 ture was " lovely," " striking," " astonishing." 
 Huntley now began to bring up the back-gTound 
 to the same state of forwardness with the 'figures ; 
 during which time, the ladies, much interested in 
 the novel handling of a kind of colours entirely 
 new to them, watched his progress and expressed 
 their delight at every new effect. Hannah went 
 away, and presently returned with some beautifiil 
 raspben'ies. Rosina obsen^ed it was a good 
 thought, and ran off to gather enough for the 
 whole party. Meantime, Hannah had given a few 
 to her mother, and was going to offer the re- 
 
176 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 mainder to Mr. Huntley, when she blushed 
 slightly, and said she would fetch a plate. 
 
 " As if," said Huntley, stopping her and looking 
 expressively, " the finest china would make them 
 more accejjtable ! " 
 
 Hannah coloured again, but gave him the fruit 
 with perfect simplicity ; and Rosina soon returned 
 with a more abundant supply. They carelessly 
 laughed and chatted till all tlie raspberries were 
 eaten, and Huntley then returned to his work, 
 which he pursued till the village clock warned 
 him and his charming companions that they must 
 separate for dinner. In the afternoon, Mrs. Well- 
 ford desired her daughters to cany a trifling 
 message to Mrs. Greenway. They were just quit- 
 ting the cottage when they met Mr. Huntley at 
 the door. " He had just looked in," he said, " not 
 to paint, but to see his morning's work with fresh 
 eyes." They all accompanied him to the walnut- 
 tree, beneath which it still stood, that the sun 
 might dry it quickly; and notwithstanding his 
 resolution, the pallet offered itself so temptingly 
 to his hand that he could not resist touching up 
 something which it would be a pity to leave in its 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 177 
 
 present state. Once with the magic brush in his 
 fingers, it seemed impossible to lay it clown ; and 
 Hannah deceived at first into the behef that his 
 one minute would literally consist only of sixty 
 seconds, aroused herself from her trance and re- 
 minded Rosina of their mission. 
 
 " Are you going ? " said Huntley pathetically. 
 
 "Indeed, Mr. Huntley," said Mrs. Wellford, 
 who had never seen painting thus taken by 
 storm, and began to be alarmed for his health, " 1 
 think it would be much better for you to lay 
 aside your brushes and take a walk also. You 
 have painted many hours and 1 am sure your 
 mind must want unbending." 
 
 Huntley's brushes were immediately relinquish- 
 ed. Whether Mrs. Wellford had intended that 
 his walk should be in the same direction with 
 her daughters', or not, he chose to understand 
 that it was to be so, and the pallet was instantly 
 cleared. He requested the young ladies to grant 
 him one more minute's patience ; and as soon as 
 his brushes were washed, he accompanied them 
 on their walk. A lovely day was now giving 
 place to a still more lovely evening, and the spi- 
 rits and tempers of the trio were in happy time. 
 
 I 3 
 
178 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Kosina's first enquiry was, " Pray, Mr. Hunt • 
 ley, are you a prophet ? " 
 
 " Not that I am aware of," replied he alertly, 
 as if preparing for an encounter of wits. — " If I 
 were, I would tell your fortune immediately ; but 
 what occasioned the question ? " 
 
 " Simply because the prophets of old used to 
 reckon years as days ; and your minutes seemed 
 to me to bear the same proportion to ordinary 
 estimates of time." 
 
 Huntley laughed, though he did not appear 
 exactly to know to what she referred. 
 
 " Mr. Huntley does not understand you, Ro- 
 sina," said Hannah, with a quiet smile that seem- 
 ed to say ' / do.' 
 
 " Why, have you not often threatened me with 
 a minute's drawing-lesson," pursued Rosina, 
 " which has as often been lengthened into an 
 hour? and did you not cheat poor Hannah into 
 standing twenty minutes in a most uncomfortable 
 position by telling her she should be released 
 from it in a moment ? Did you not mean to paint 
 only a miimte this afternoon, and to be occupied 
 another minute in washing your brushes ? " 
 
 Huntley now laughed gaily. "The fact is," 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 179 
 
 said he, "that it is impossible to take note of 
 time in the Misses AVellfords' society." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Huntley, I dare say you use all your 
 sitters just as unfairly." 
 
 " Perhaps I do, — when they fascinate me 
 equally, — I leave you to decide how often that is 
 likely to be the case." 
 
 " Painting must be a very fascinating pursuit," 
 said Hannah, trying to turn the conversation to 
 generals. 
 
 " Undoubtedly it must be," said Rosina — "Oh I 
 there is Mrs. Greenway, I declare! Just going 
 into Mrs. Good's. I must try to deUver mamma's 
 message before the servant opens the door." 
 
 Away she ran, leaving Hannah and Mr. Hunt- 
 ley to follow her at their leisure. They did so in 
 perfect silence, though Huntley longed to speak. 
 Just as he had thought of something to say to 
 his beautiful companion, they were rejoined by 
 Rosina. 
 
 " This is certainly too wami weather for run- 
 ning!" exclaimed she. 
 
 " There is no need of our going to Mrs. Greeii- 
 Avay's now," said Hannah. " What shall we do? 
 Go home?" 
 
180 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 "Home!" exclaimed both her companions at 
 once. 
 
 " Surely not," said Huntley. 
 
 "Where shall we go then?" inquired Han- 
 nah. 
 
 " Let us sit down on the bench just beneath 
 the churchyard," said Rosina, "tOl I have re- 
 covered myself, and then we can go into Okely 
 Park. We have scarcely walked half a mile." 
 
 They accordingly proceeded to the seat, which 
 had been erected by some forgotten emulator of 
 the Man of Ross. It was nearly at the point 
 where Mr. Russell had first seen Pluntley. 
 
 " How pleasant rest is when we are tired ! " 
 said Rosina. 
 
 " Yes, and how pleasant recreation is when we 
 have earned it by industry !" said Huntley. " Even 
 alone, such weather and scenery as this would be 
 delightful ; but with companions, feminine com- 
 panions! — One is so glad, too, of having gained a 
 point : I began to be afraid, at oiie time, Miss 
 Wellford, that I should leave Summerfield with- 
 out having painted your picture." 
 
 Hannah felt she was expected to speak, yet 
 knew not exactly what to say. She was not so 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 181 
 
 ready in framing playful disclamatory speeches as 
 her sister, 
 
 " It was a bold project, certainly," pursued 
 Huntley. " How many arguments and per- 
 suasions, how many little arts was I obliged to 
 use, before I could attain it ! " He looked at her 
 with a smile full of earnest meaning, and Hannah's 
 eyes sank to the ground. Rosina saw the look. 
 ' I am glad — yes, I am glad,' thought she, ' that 
 he does justice to Hannah's beauty— no painter 
 could fail to admire that sweet countenance ; but 
 his conversation, his instruction, and his playful 
 wit, are all reserved for me.' While trying to 
 convince herself that this was really the case, she 
 was unconscious how long they had sat in 
 tlioughtful silence, when quick cheerful voices, at 
 no gi'eat distance, roused each of them from their 
 reveries ; and looking round, they perceived Mr. 
 Russell and another gentleman passing through 
 the church -yard gate. " Another rara avis?^'' 
 thought Hannah, as she rose to pursue her walk ; 
 while Rosina gave a look, first of careless inquiry, 
 and next of half-doubting surprise, at the stranger- 
 He was a tall, striking looking young man of 
 about one and twenty, with a prepossessing coun- 
 
182 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 tenance, which at this moment was beaming with 
 gaiety and good humour. " Hannah ! Hannah !" 
 exclaimed Ilosina, in a suppressed but energetic 
 tone, " I think, — yes, I am sure, — it is Lewis 
 Pennington !" 
 
 Lev, is, who could hardly have recognized 
 Rosina, had he not been told by his companion 
 that the two young ladies before him were the 
 Misses AVellfords, approached with a gladness of 
 manner equally free from embarrassment and ex- 
 aggeration. " Rosina ! " said he, half doubtful of 
 being remembered. Her bright glance instantly 
 shewed that she knew him perfectly well, and she 
 held out her hand with a smile of pleasure, as she 
 said, " ^Vho would have thought of seeing you in 
 Summerfield, Mr. Pennington ? " She immediately 
 introduced him to her sister, and named to him 
 Mr. Huntley, whom Lewis Pennington measm'ed 
 with his eye from head to foot, as he bowed to 
 him with great grace but a little haughtiness. 
 
 " This spot seems destined for the scene of 
 pleasant meetings," said Mr. Russell to Huntley 
 with a smile. Then turning to Rosina, " Well," 
 said he, did not I serve you right in not telling 
 you that your old playfellow and preux chevalier 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 183 
 
 was coming to the vicarage ? You remember the 
 provocation." 
 
 Rosina coloured. " We were just coming to 
 call on you," pursued Mr. Russell; " shall we all 
 proceed to the White Cottage together, or have 
 you any other plan in view ? " 
 
 " We will return, by all means," said Hannah. 
 Huntley immediately offered her his arm, and she 
 accepted it with a sUght blush ; wondering 
 whether Mr. RusseU would think it strange. 
 Lewis and Rosina led the way, he drawing her 
 arm beneath his with the security of an old fiiend, 
 and marvelling at the growth and exceeding pret- 
 tiness of the little girl whom he had so often 
 tempted into or extricated from scrapes, as events 
 might happen ; while she, with a thousand ques- 
 tions relative to Stoke Barton acquaintance hover- 
 ing on her lips, scarcely felt sufficiently at ease 
 with him to give them utterance. Five minutes 
 sufficed to shew however that if Lewis had 
 added some inches to his height and some man- 
 hood to his countenance and carriage since they 
 had last seen each other, his manners were nearly 
 as carelessly boyish as ever. Meanwhile they 
 
184 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 were putting a gradually increasing space between 
 themselves and the more leisurely walkers behind. 
 
 " What was that Mr. Russell said about i)roro- 
 cation ? ■" said Lewis, smiling archly after answer- 
 ing a few of her inquiries respecting his family. 
 
 " Provocation ? " repeated Rosina, affecting for- 
 getfulness. 
 
 " Yes, something in connexion with you and 
 me, was it not ? Ah, you remember it, I see, by 
 your blushing." 
 
 " Blush, Mr. Pennington ! " said Rosina dis- 
 dainfully, " I assure you I do no such thing." 
 
 " Nay, no offence, Rosina," replied, he with per- 
 fect complacence. " Even if I judged wrongly, 
 you know the mistake did not amount to a crime. 
 Dr. what's his name — the oracle of you ladies — 
 Dr. Gregory says, that a blush is the most power- 
 ful charm of beauty. At least I have Marianne's 
 authority for saying so, for you may be siure 1 
 never read his precious stuff about friendship, 
 love, and mati'imony, myself. But Mr. Penning- 
 ton ? What do you mean by that.? Not to affront 
 me, I hope. \ ou know we ai'e cousins ; and I 
 do not mean to relinquish my cousinly privilege 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 185 
 
 of calling you Rosina, 1 assure you. And I hope 
 that to you I shall always be Lewis, as I was in 
 old times. Dear old times, I was going to call 
 them; but they were not very dear to you who 
 were so brutally treated by Mrs. Parkinson. By 
 the by, that woman, whom I have never forgiven, 
 has left Park Place, time indefinite, to wander up 
 and down the face of the earth, felicity hunting, 
 with her poor worn-out husband and old Mrs. 
 Diana. A charming party to travel over the con- 
 tinent with ; don't you think so ? I was rather 
 astonished they did not invite Mr. Curtis to make 
 a fourth, for Mrs. Parkinson can scarcely bear 
 him to be out of her sight ; but perhaps Curtis 
 was wise and preferred peace and quiet to an an- 
 nuity." 
 
 " But Lewis, you have not told me a word of 
 dear Marianne." 
 
 " Oh, Marianne is as much altered as you are, 
 though the girl will never be handsome. How- 
 ever, she is sharp and good-humoured, which does 
 quite as well for a sister. My father is not a day 
 older than when you saw him, and as lively and 
 indulgent as ever. I was the envy of half the 
 men in Oxford, in that respect. Nothing to do 
 
186 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 but to write for money, and it was sui'e to come 
 without any sermonizing. To be sure, he once 
 made me feel rather ashamed of myself — " 
 
 " How was that ? " inquired Rosina. 
 
 " Oh," said Lewis laughing, and switching the 
 hedge with his cane, " the long and the short of 
 the business was, that I had been extravagant ; 
 and actually felt myself blushing as red as fire 
 when I wrote for fresh supplies. 1 half expected 
 they would not be remitted : however, the letter 
 came with the needftil inclosure, and a line to 
 say that Dr. Pennington had great pleasure in 
 paying his son's necessary expenses, though the 
 poor must this winter suffer for it, and that, to 
 be sure, the repetition of such a demand as the 
 last would oblige him to put do\^Ti his caniage, a 
 very needless luxury to a hale old man and four 
 healthy females. How hot I felt at that moment! 
 Bills must be paid, you know ; there was no help 
 for that ; but I was as stingy as Harpagon all the 
 rest of the term ; and the next time I saw my fa- 
 ther, I wrung his hand and vowed 1 never would 
 exceed my allowance again. He hoped I should 
 keep my promise, wished he could afford me more, 
 and we were as good fiiends as ever." * 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 187 
 
 " Dear, excellent man ! But your mother, Lewis, 
 and your brothers and sisters — " 
 
 " Oh, Ned is at Madras ; Sophy and Isabella 
 are with Caroline at the Isle of Wight, recruiting 
 their complexions after a London campaign, and 
 the young ones are pursuing the same routine 
 under Mademoiselle Mackau as we did before 
 them. By the by, that Frenchwoman wears 
 uncommonly well. What with her rouge and 
 false hair, nobody would suppose her more than 
 thirty; and she dresses with as much coquettish 
 precision as ever." 
 
 " Rouge! has Mademoiselle Mackau taken to 
 rouge ? " 
 
 " My father and mother cry ' pshaw ! nonsense ! 
 no such thing ! ' but Marianne and I am convinced 
 of it. You know what teeth and eyes she has. 
 Wlien I first came home. Mademoiselle positively 
 looked so handsome that I had a gi'eat mind to 
 strike up a flirtation ; but considering that she had 
 helped me through the hard words in ' L'Ami 
 des Enfans,' it proved too ridiculous. However, 
 we still often have a little scene. Mademoiselle 
 stands secm'e in the consciousness of having refused 
 
188 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 several good offers, and has no objection to a little 
 harmless rattle." 
 
 "We have quite outwalked Hannah and Mr. 
 Russell," said Rosiua, looking back ; " shall we 
 not wait for them ? " 
 
 " Certainly we will. Wliat a sweet countenance 
 your sister has! And who is that Mr. Hunter? 
 Are they engaged?" 
 
 "Oh dear no!" 
 
 " Oh dear no ? " repeated he, laughing, " that 
 look and tone give me reason to suspect something 
 in another quarter." 
 
 " You may suspect whatever you like, but you 
 are talking quite at random." 
 
 " Oh, I shall be more au fait by and by : 
 I have pretty quick eyes, and shall make my silent 
 observations." 
 
 " Silent observations ! horrible ! " exclaimed 
 Rosina. " Pray do not trouble yourself to do any 
 thing so disagreeable." 
 
 " Oh, I shall not mind its being disagreeable," 
 said Lewis. 
 
 " But I shall, I assure you," cried Rosina, " for 
 notliincr is so — " 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 189 
 
 "So what?" 
 
 She did not reply, and he maliciously continued, 
 " Oh, I shall keep a good look-out on this Mr. 
 Hunter. Is he one of the neighbouring gentry ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Where is he staying then ? " 
 ~ " At the inn." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 At this moment, the person in question, together 
 with Hannah and Mr. Russell came within ear- 
 shot. They were speaking of Huntley's picture, 
 which Mr. Russell was curious to see. 
 
 " What is this picture they are talking of? " in- 
 quired Lewis of Rosina as they pursued their 
 walk. 
 
 " Oh, a beautiful painting of Mr. Huntley's, in 
 which he is introducing all our likenesses." 
 
 " Soho!" cried Lewis, raising his eyebrows, 
 " then he is nothingbut a portrait painter after all !'^ 
 
 " Hush, Lewis, he will overhear you. You aie 
 mistaken." 
 
 " What, is he only an amateur, then ? " 
 
 " Why, — not exactly. — He is a very distin- 
 guished artist." 
 
190 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " I never heard his name," observed Lewis 
 drily. 
 
 " You will, some of these days," said Rosina 
 with quickness ; " Mr. Russell says he is a very 
 great genius." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," replied Lewis. 
 " As a proof of it," continued Rosina, " he not 
 only paints but is extremely well read in poetry 
 and the classics, knows a great deal of history, 
 and sings delightfully. I am even not quite sure 
 that he does not write verses." 
 
 " So much the worse for his painting," said 
 Lewis. 
 
 " Not at all," cried Rosina, " an artist, as well 
 as every one else, must have occasional recrea- 
 tions ; and how much better are these than gam- 
 bling and associating with low company } " 
 " Perhaps he may do that too." 
 " I am certain he does not." 
 " Oh," said Lewis with a smile," I see you are 
 talking of Mr. Hunter. I thought you were 
 speaking of artists in general. Heaven forbid 
 that I should accuse or suspect a man of whom 
 I know nothing, and who may be better than 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 191 
 
 myself. It would be ill-bred as well as illiberal 
 for me to pretend to judge of Mr. Hunter — " 
 
 " Mr. Huntley." 
 
 " Huntley, I beg his pardon. — Of Mr, Huntley's 
 merits or demerits. Wliat do I know of liim ? 
 By the by, that is a pretty little cottage — " 
 
 " That is our cottage," said Rosina, feeling 
 rather ashamed of it for the first time. " It is very 
 small—" 
 
 " But quite large enough for happiness, without 
 doubt. Oh, I am quite an advocate for cottages, 
 I assure you. To say truth, I went through a 
 pretty severe course of novels last winter, when 
 I had a sprained ancle." 
 
 " Ah! mamma has had the tea things placed 
 under the walnut tree ! " cried Rosina joyfully. 
 " How very pleasant." 
 
192 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A TEA-PARTY UNDER A WALNUT TREE. 
 
 Mrs. Wellford had expected Huntley to return 
 with her daughters, but she was rather surprised 
 to see an addition of two gentlemen to the party, 
 and still more surprised to be introduced to Lewis 
 Pennington. As the son of an old and highly 
 valued friend, and in some sort as a relation, 
 she gave him a most cordial reception, and im- 
 mediately expressed her hope that he and Mr. 
 R'dssell would join their little tea-party. Every 
 one was pleased with the idea of drinking tea 
 out of doors ; and Hannah, having laid aside her 
 bonnet and parasol, took her accustomed seat as 
 president. 
 
 So many inquiries after Stoke Barton friends 
 required answers from Lewis, that the picture 
 was at first forgotten. Mr. Russell at length 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 193 
 
 looked round for it, and Huntley brought it from 
 the house. 
 
 Mr. Russell was even more struck with the 
 painting than had been expected, and seemed 
 scarcely to know which most to praise, the de- 
 sign or the execution. Huntley was gratified by 
 his criticisms, which were those of a man of 
 taste though not a connoisseur. Lewis was 
 disposed to be pleased with every thing, yet 
 he could not make due allowances for the first 
 stage of colour, and cavilled at the brickdust hue 
 of Orpah's complexion. He said he should like 
 to have been reminded of Sir Joshua Reynolds's 
 colouring, rather than of the dirty Jewesses in 
 Monmouth-street, and advised Mr. Huntley to in- 
 quire of Fuseli where " a velvet brush dipped in 
 honey" was to be found. He should paint Miss 
 Rosina Wellford's portrait with no other. Rosina 
 said " pshaw ! " but Lewis did not think she looked 
 very angry. They were now summoned by Han- 
 nah to the tea-table. 
 
 " And pray, Lewis, how came Summerfield to 
 be honoured by your presence?" inquired Mrs. 
 Wellford ; " was this excursion premeditated, or 
 nl im proviso ? " 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 He laughed and replied, " Oh, there was no- 
 thing to keep me at home, and Russell had written 
 such fluent praises of this part of the country, 
 that I thought I should like to come and look 
 about me. Next year I shall travel; and it is 
 foolish of a man to go abroad before he has seen 
 his own country." 
 
 " Are you going then, to make the tour of 
 England ? " 
 
 " Why — I don't exactly know about that — I 
 shall probably go a little further west, and loiter 
 about for a few weeks, here and there, wherever I 
 find any thing to please me." 
 
 '' How extremely like he is to his mother!" 
 said Mrs. Wellford to Mr. Russell. " The same 
 
 eyes 
 
 " Not quite," said Lewis, " her's are dark blue, 
 and mine are grey. I do not wish my eyes to 
 deceive you, ma'am, even in colour." 
 
 " And yet, again, your nose is certainly some- 
 thing of the doctor's " 
 
 " 1 had rather be like him in any thing else," 
 observed Lewis slily. " What do you say, Ro- 
 sina? You have seen my father since Mrs. Well- 
 ford has. Are our noses ahke ? " 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 195 
 
 " I am sure I do not know," said Rosina, in a 
 tone as if she had never seen a nose in her life. 
 
 " ' Betwixt eyes and nose a strange contest 
 arose,'" said Lewis, laughing; " and I deny- 
 that mine has that venerable arch in the middle, 
 or that rotundity at the lower extremity which 
 characterizes my father's organ of scent. Nay, if 
 I have any vanity, it is of this very feature ; and 
 when I swear, (which I assure you, ladies, is but 
 seldom,) it is always ' by my nose.' " 
 
 " You need not be affronted, Lewis, at being 
 thought like your father, for at the time I married, 
 he was a very handsome man." 
 
 " So he is still, for his age ; but my mother, I 
 think, is more altered, though her manner is as full 
 of cheerfulness and sweetness as ever. Her's has 
 been a life of more anxiety and care ; she has had 
 a large family to attend to, and a great deal of ill 
 health. Thank God, she is now tolerably well, 
 but I do not know what she would have done 
 with us all if it had not been for Mademoiselle 
 Mackau." 
 
 " Your mother was a charming woman when I 
 knew her." 
 
 " So she is, ma'am, to this day. I did not always 
 
 K 2 
 
196 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 know her value. Rosina may remember that, as 
 children, we always had her rather more in dread 
 than my father. Well, when I had been fi"om 
 home a few months, I began, like many other 
 fools, to think it was exceedingly weak of me to 
 be held any longer in j)etticoat thraldom, and re- 
 solved quietly to throw aside the yoke at the first 
 opportunity. Will you believe it? — on returning 
 with my tastes somewhat matured, and my know- 
 ledge of men and women more enlarged, I found 
 myself for the first time capable of appreciating 
 this admirable mother, and aware of the distinc- 
 tion of possessing her fiiendship. Stay, surely 
 she charged me with a letter to you. I believe it 
 is in my portmanteau. Is this it ? — Oh no, this is 
 one to you, Rosina, fi'om Marianne, which had 
 slipped my memory. I now recollect her stuffing 
 something into my pocket just as I was mounting 
 my horse, with some injunction which I had not 
 time to listen to." 
 
 "For shame!" cried Rosina, tearing it open, "I 
 dare say you have forgotten some message which 
 I should have thought of great importance." 
 
 " If I had known it had been for you," replied 
 he, " I would have paid more attention to her, 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 197 
 
 certainly, but I thought she had merely been 
 giving me some biscuits to prevent my stai'ving on 
 the road. Marianne has always so many ' last 
 words' when I am on the point of setting out on a 
 ride, either a charge to scold the woman at the 
 library for not sending her the last volume of some 
 novel, or a message to the milliner, or a note to 
 drop at aunt Margaret's, that I now only hear her 
 mechanically, and cry ' ay, ay, depend upon 
 me,' without being quite clear whether I am to go 
 to the aunt's, the milliner's, or the librarian's." 
 
 " You do not deserve such a sister as Marianne, 
 I am afraid, Lewis," said Mr. Russell. 
 
 " Nobody deserves her ! " replied he with energy. 
 
 " Nobody in Stoke Barton, you mean. I hope 
 she is not of your way of thinking." 
 
 " Pretty nearly so, I believe — she is inexorable." 
 
 " Hosina used to describe you and your sister 
 Marianne as nearly inseparable," said Hannah. 
 
 " So we are still, when I am at home," replied 
 he. " My father says that Marianne-and-Lewis 
 seem always connected with hyphens." 
 
 " Quite like Viola and Sebastian," said Huntley. 
 
 " Not exactly," said Lewis — " their resemblance 
 
198 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 was more of person than mind — ours is more of 
 mind than person." 
 
 Rosina had now hastily skimmed the contents 
 of her letter. A few lines towards the conclusion 
 made her blush rosy red ; and ^\^shing to appear 
 unconcerned, she said as she folded it up, " You 
 seem to have had a very gay spring at Stoke 
 Barton." 
 
 " Such gaiety as a country town always affords," 
 answered Lewis — " a regular succession of parties, 
 beginning with the Sewards and ending with the 
 Trotters." 
 
 "Seward? Trotter?" repeated Mrs. Wellford— 
 " there were no such names in the town when I 
 left Park Place." 
 
 " And yet we count them among our old estab- 
 lished set now. Oh, there are many among us, 
 compared with whom, the Sewards and Trotters 
 are quite antique. I dare say, Mrs. Wellford, 
 you would hardly know Stoke Barton again— four 
 or live-and-twenty years in these stirring times 
 make an immense difference. I myself can recol- 
 lect when we had neither circulating librar}'^, music 
 shop, nor savings' bank; when Cotton Row was 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 199 
 
 not built; when there was only one pastry-cook's, 
 one Imen-draper's, and one tallow-chandler's ! 
 Now we have two handsome inns, two apothe- 
 caries, a physician, and a silversmith ! Does not 
 that speak for the growing importance of Stoke 
 Barton ? But you would see no alteration in Park 
 Place. It stands aloof from the town with the 
 same demure dignity as ever, and the stately old 
 trees have not as yet become the prey of a thrift- 
 less heir. Young James Parkinson perhaps, may 
 make the axe play among them freely some of 
 these days." 
 
 " I hope not," said Mrs. Wellford. 
 " So do I," said Lewis, " for I have lain so 
 often under their shade, that I look upon them in 
 some measure as my own property." 
 
 " If such a claim as that could be made good in 
 a court of law," said Huntley, " I should have as 
 pretty an estate as any man in the kingdom," 
 
 " Possession is nine points of the law," said 
 Lewis, " and there is many a rock in the woods of 
 Park Place which I and the squiri'els have hitherto 
 had to ourselves ; — a certain bank, in particular, 
 that win always be associated in my mind with 
 Froissart," 
 
200 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Ah ! how often have I wished to read Frois- 
 sart!" exclahned Rosma. 
 
 *' I think you would be disappointed in him," 
 said Huntley. 
 
 "Disappointed in Froissart!" exclaimed Lewis. 
 " I can only say that / devoured his pages with 
 the keenest delight, and that his chronicle appeared 
 to me the most vivid and entertaining picture of 
 the times that could well be imagined." 
 
 " And what times were they.?" rejoined Hunt- 
 . ley. " Times when every public and private duty 
 was violated and the most atrocious crimes com- 
 mitted without exciting surprise." 
 
 " Times full of romantic incident, however," 
 said Lewis. 
 
 " Yes, the incidents were romantic ; but Frois- 
 sart has a dry, uninteresting way of telling them. 
 How much more he might have made of some of 
 his stories, by inserting some particulars and 
 omitting many others ! " 
 
 " You are difficult to please, sir. To me, I 
 must confess, his gossipping style has ..something 
 quaint, racy, and delightful. He tells you the 
 whole aflair from beginning to end, so that it 
 seems to rise before your eyes — how that Sir John 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 201 
 
 Cliandos sat at meat when young Earl Pembroke's 
 page, after a night of peril, brought him the token 
 ring— how he washed his hands, and sat moodily 
 deliberating before he resolved to forget old af- 
 fronts and go to the earl's assistance. All this 
 gives a great deal of spirit and life — " 
 
 " But does not argue much more genius for 
 naiTation than that possessed by every old nurse. 
 — He makes no selection. A modem writer would 
 select." 
 
 " And leave nothing but the bare skeleton," 
 said Le\^ds. " I like dead heroes to stand before 
 me in all the reality of flesh and blood. How I 
 revelled over the exploits of that old Sir John 
 Chandos ! And how I loved the pleasant stories 
 of Sir Espaign de Lyon as he and Froissart rode 
 at a bridle pace beside some fair river ! How I 
 enjoyed the gossipry of the gallant squires and 
 pages, as they sat roimd the fire at the court of 
 Beam, each man telling his tale of Avar or love ! 
 How my blood curdled at . the murder of little 
 Gaston de Foix! Do you find any thing more 
 poetical in Chaucer ? Ah ! a man must be fasti- 
 dious who cannot relish Froissart! How say yoii, 
 Russell?" 
 
 k3 
 ♦ 
 
202 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " To tell you the truth, Lewis," replied Mr. 
 Russell, " I never read Froissart ! " 
 
 The tea equipage being now removed, Hannah 
 brought her mother's work-bag and her own nett- 
 ing from the parlour, and accepted Lewis's oflfer 
 of holding the skein of silk she was about to wind. 
 On looking round when his task was half finished, 
 Lewis perceived that Mr, Huntley was helping 
 Rosina to water her flowers, and he immediately 
 began to wish himself at liberty. As soon as he 
 was released, he walked towards the flower bor- 
 der, and seeing a pretty rose, he stopped to ga- 
 ther it 
 
 " Oh Lewis," cried Rosina, in teiTor, part real 
 and part affected, " you positively shall not have 
 that Proven9e rose ! it is the only one I have. — 
 Any other that you will, moss, damask, or Chi- 
 na." 
 
 " With all my heart," said Lewis ; " a rose, 
 gathered by myself, woidd do only to smell twice 
 or thrice and throw over the hedge ; whereas one 
 presented by you will have an extrinsic value." 
 
 " It is a Spanish compliment you know, to give 
 a rose to a stranger." 
 
 " Are you resolved to call me one ? " 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 208 
 
 " Well, which colour will you have ? " 
 
 " The colour of the lips of a young lady of my 
 acquaintance — no ; not that — it is too pale." 
 
 " How can I tell what colour you mean ? " said 
 Rosina, stooping over her roses ; " will this do ? " 
 
 " Yes," said he softly; taking the rose, and 
 playfully approaching it to her lips. Rosina hast- 
 ily turned away and nearly ran against Mr. Hunt- 
 ley, who was returning with her replenished wa- 
 tering pot. 
 
 " Are you giving away flowers. Miss Rosina, 
 like another Perdita } " said he. " I am sure I 
 have earned one." 
 
 " No, no," said Lewis, laughing, " they are all 
 for me." 
 
 " How can you say so?" said Rosina sconi- 
 fiilly. " Mr. Huntley has earned one very fairly. 
 Here, Mr. Huntley, is a perfect beauty! You 
 deserve one for filling my watering-pot." 
 
 " Tliis is lovely enough to inspire a troubadour," 
 said Huntley ; and he immediately began to hum 
 
 " Oh ! my love is like the red, red rose ! " 
 
 His balmy voice reached the party under the 
 wahiut tree; Mr. Russell called out to beg he 
 
204 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 would " go on;" and laughing, " as though he 
 scorned himself for" singing, Huntley continued 
 with more emphasis though still in an apparently 
 careless sotto voce manner, to run through the se- 
 cond verse of the ballad. No woman, musical 
 enough to appreciate simple melody, and youth- 
 ful enough to believe in the possibility of her 
 having excited interest in the young painter's 
 heart, could have listened unmoved to his enun- 
 ciation of 
 
 " And I will love thee still, my dear, 
 • Till the sands of life are run." 
 
 Its pathos was attested by a gentle sigh from 
 the bosoms of each of the younger ladies; and 
 Lewis with an impatient suspiration, wished fate 
 had enabled him to sing as well ; and then quieted 
 himself by doubting whether it were a manly ac- 
 complishment. Rosina, after having with unusual 
 benevolence, watered Hannah's flowers as well as 
 her own, returned quite tired but in unexhausted 
 spirits, to rest beneath the walnut tree. Tlie 
 moon presently rose brightly fi'om behind the hills, 
 and Mrs. Wellford thought it time to return to the 
 house. This movement was received by the gen- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 205 
 
 tlemen as a hint to wish good evening, which 
 they accordingly did, after waiting to see the 
 moon enter a fleecy cloud, and to make rival quo- 
 tations from Milton, Byron, and Pope. The last 
 " good night" was said and smiled ; Lewis still 
 lingered to utter more last words, while Mr. Kus- 
 sell led the way up the lane and called Huntley's 
 attention to the glow-worms sparkling on the 
 banks. 
 
 " What an entertaining day this has been ! " 
 exclaimed Rosina, as she laid her head upon her 
 pillow. 
 
 Lewis's opinion of it had not been very dissimi- 
 lar. " What a smile Rosina Wellford has!" ex- 
 claimed he abruptly, after Huntley had quitted 
 them. " She is so much altered since I last saw 
 her that I should scarcely have known her again. 
 As for her mind, that is altered too ; however, I 
 have watched its developement in her letters — " 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Mr. Russell with surprise, 
 " did you correspond ? " 
 
 " No, no; her letters to Marianne, which I 
 often saw, though without Rosina's guessing it. 
 Why, they were living pictures ! Not a corner of 
 this village, not a creature who inhabits it, not a 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 tea party at Lady Worral's, or a visit from you, 
 Russell," added he laughing, " that was not re- 
 corded." 
 
 " I have often thought," said Mr. Russell rather 
 gravely, " that Rosina was inclined to be satirical, 
 but 1 did not imagine she allowed her liveliness to 
 carry her these lengths." 
 
 " But not a word of ill-nature in them," inter- 
 posed Lewis. " They were faultless in that res- 
 pect; and the ardent affection they discovered 
 towards her mother and sister, 1 have this evening 
 seen displayed with my own eyes. I like the 
 elder sister too ; she reminds one of Milton's des- 
 cription of Melancholy, though there is nothing 
 melancholy about her. She seems 
 
 ' devout and pure. 
 Sober, stedfast, and demure.' " 
 
 " Hannah's character desen^es all those epithets 
 except the last," said Mr. Russell, " which in 
 common parlance stands for a sort of affected mo- 
 desty, whereas hers is completely woven into her 
 mind, and is too intrinsic to be worn as a mere 
 ornament. Rosina has more natural vanity — " 
 
 " She has more to be vain of," observed Lewis. 
 
 " And often says, does, and fancies things," 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 207 
 
 continued Mr. Russell, " which would never enter 
 Hannah's imagination; but her innocence of mind 
 and natural vivacity of disposition, fonn, I think, 
 her best apologists; and as her experience and 
 power of reflection increase, she will, if she has 
 sufficient strength of mind to correct her little foi- 
 bles, become a very enchanting character." 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you ! " cried Lewis with 
 energy ; " yes, yes, she will, as you say, become 
 an enchanting character; and I hate a perfect 
 woman ! " 
 
208 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 NUT CRACKING. 
 
 This had been a day of unusual excitement at the 
 White Cottage ; nor did it seem likely that events 
 would very soon return to their former sleepy 
 course. Huntley's picture and Lewis Penning- 
 ton's aiTival formed ample subject for conver- 
 sation at Mrs. Wellford's breakfast table the en- 
 suing morning ; and before eleven o'clock, \he 
 artist came to request his sitters to resume their 
 attitudes. Lewis soon arrived with his mother's 
 letter, and was delighted to watch Huntley's pro- 
 gi'ess ; and in the course of the afternoon, Mat- 
 thew and Sam Good looked in to enquire what 
 was going on. 
 
 Matthew laughed heartily at what he called his 
 fsistcrs' masquerade dresses, and then entered into 
 fluent conversation with Lewis Pennington, who 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 209 
 
 pleased him exceedingly. Sam was meanwhile 
 employed in asking Huntley a thousand absurd 
 questions, and paying Rosina foolish compliments. 
 At length the young men set out on their walk, 
 and Lewis was with some difficulty persuaded by 
 Matthew to accompany them. 
 
 The painting scheme completely inteiTupted the 
 usual routine of feminine occupation. Mr. Russell 
 and the Goods were eager to look on and give 
 tlieir opinion, so that, for the first week, Mrs. 
 Wellford's garden was a perpetual rendezvous, 
 and Huntley found his progress greatly impeded 
 by the admiration, criticism, and small talk of the 
 by-standers. The charm of variety, however, he 
 knew would soon cease, and then he should be 
 left in comparative quiet. Till that coveted period 
 arrived, he postponed the luxury of painting 
 Hannah's portrait, and occupied himself with his 
 study of Rosina. This flattered her imagination, 
 and awoke both the interest and jealousy of Lewis, 
 who at first was angry with him for not doing 
 justice to her prettiness, and then, for dwelling, as 
 he fancied, enamoured on her features. 
 
 Lewis Pennington's character was not such as 
 one sees every day. His disposition was ardently 
 
210 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 affectionate, his imagination lively, and his mind 
 tinctured with a spice of romance which, united 
 to manners of boyish gaiety and sincerity, was 
 rather apt to make the sedate and cautious give 
 him less credit for strength of judgment and prin- 
 ciple than he really deserved, while it remarkably 
 endeared him to those by whom he was intimately 
 known. To hint that he came to Summerfield on 
 purjyose to fall in love with Rosina Wellford, would 
 ruin my hero irreparably in the opinion of his 
 judges, although such a result might appear the 
 natural and proper consequence of his visit. The 
 motives which had actuated him, however, were 
 thoroughly characteristic of himself. 
 
 Rosina's childish beauty had had as little effect 
 as might have been expected on his boyish imagi- 
 nation; but in after years, his pai'ents' partial 
 reminiscences of her, and the snatches of her 
 clever letters which Marianne occasionally read 
 aloud for the Doctor's amusement, kept alive his 
 remembrance of her, and excited some degree of 
 curiosity to know whether this lively and secluded 
 young beauty were all that his imagination pic- 
 tured. Summerfield was thought of by Lewis as a 
 little nest of loveUness, where the trees were 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 211 
 
 greener and the air sweeter than anywhere else; 
 and he could not help considering himself the 
 originator of the happiness which breathed through- 
 out Rosina's letters, since he it was who had 
 contrived the scheme of her elopement from Park 
 Place, an achievement which, in spite of the 
 disgrace it had entailed on himself, he always re- 
 membered with amazing satisfaction. He resolved 
 that if he should ever make a tour through the 
 western counties of England, he would take Sum- 
 merfield in his way ; and on quitting college, 
 idleness soon gave a substantial form to the plan 
 which had once or twice floated through his brain. 
 He told his father he should like to unbend his 
 mind and recruit his health by a little excursion 
 through some of the neighbouring counties, and 
 that he thought he might as well begin by spend- 
 ing a week or ten days with that honest fellow, 
 Russell. Dr. Pennington looked at his blythe, 
 arch countenance and elastic figure, and could see 
 no ravages made either by sickness or over-study ; 
 however, he had no objection to the boy's having 
 a little change, and was well convinced he could 
 learn no harm of Mr. Russell. So, on a good 
 
212 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 horse, and with a fifty pound note in his pocket, 
 Lewis started for Summerfield. 
 
 Here he found himself so exceedingly comfort- 
 able, that he thought, for the present, the western 
 counties might take care of themselves. Mr. 
 Russell was a most hospitable host, with enough 
 love of humour to relish all Lewis's pleasantries, 
 and of indulgence to sympathize in much of his 
 romance. Their breakfasts and dinners were 
 discussed with the utmost harmony : for the rest 
 of tlie day, Mr. Russell was quite as much at 
 liberty as ever, to write in his study or visit his 
 parishioners ; for Lewis either rode about the 
 country or lounged the sultay hours away at Mrs. 
 Wellford's. Here he was always sure of smiles, 
 and a little coquetry into the bargain. 
 
 Rosina could not be prevailed on to acknow- 
 ledge tlie contents of the postscript which she had 
 torn off Marianne Pennington's letter before she 
 gave it to her mother and sister. That it contained 
 some laughing innuendo concerning Lewis was 
 rendered as probable from her confusion as from 
 the enthusiasm and romance which made Marianne 
 so closely resemble her brother. If Marianne, 
 
VILLAGE BELLP:S. '213 
 
 however, had possessed as much judgment as 
 kindness, she would have left the postscript un- 
 written; since Rosina, induced by it to fancy 
 Lewis a lover from tlie outset, shrank from his 
 advances with a feeling of consciousness which 
 not even her inclination to coquetry could over- 
 come. Her vanity made her undoubtful of the 
 effect of her charms ; her modesty made her 
 shrink, even while she longed for admiration, ft'om 
 the language of love; and thus, there were as 
 many pretty blushings, and starts, and retreats, 
 and trepidations, as a mischievous bystander could 
 desire for amusement. Lewis was puzzled, at- 
 tracted, and deceived: he became interested in 
 the pursuit, and little doubtful of success. Yet 
 he was not without his vexations. 
 
 He was at first uncommonly charmed with the 
 daily sittings under the walnut tree, which afforded 
 such opportunity for pleasant idling, and looking 
 to and fro between the picture and Rosina; but 
 he soon began to discover that these regular pro- 
 ceedings were monotonous and tiresome, and pre- 
 ventive of pleasant tete-a-tete rambles through the 
 gi'een lanes; while, if he contented himself with 
 escorting the ladies in their evening walk, and 
 
214 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 took a ride in the interim, he thereby left the field 
 occupied by a rival whose genius sadly balanced 
 against his own good looks. This conviction, 
 when it first broke upon him, was mortifying. 
 That Huntley, his inferior in station, fortune, and 
 education, perhaps also in character, three inches 
 shorter, and a mere painter to boot, should actually 
 be his rival ! Lewis's contempt for him seemed in 
 a fair way of changing into dislike. He was 
 pacified, however, by thinking that the picture 
 would soon be finished, and the artist recalled by 
 his business to London. Vain thought! Huntley, 
 with the whole summer before him, and a picture 
 in hand to which he was resolved to give the 
 nicest finish, was in no hurry to depart; and as 
 living at an inn was too expensive, he engaged a 
 lodging at a little cottage in the valley, where he 
 might remain all the autumn if he were so minded. 
 Thus settled at his ease, he pursued his occu- 
 pation in the most leisurely manner imaginable, 
 touching and retouching Orpah's face and figure 
 till they possessed the finish of a miniature ; appa- 
 rently, as it seemed to Lewis, for the purpose of 
 tiring him out, and remaining victor by his mere 
 tenacity of the ground. As Lewis had no tolerable 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 215 
 
 pretence for remaining at Summerfield longer 
 than a fortnight or three weeks, this plan seemed 
 beyond the patience of mortal to bear; and he de- 
 voutly wished he could find some London ac- 
 quaintance who had a pretence for taking out a writ 
 of habeas corpus against the indefatigable artist. 
 
 If Lewis were thus alternately lapped in Ely- 
 sium by Rosina's blushes, and chafed by her pre- 
 ference of his rival, Huntley was happier than he 
 had ever been in his life, though not irom the 
 cause which Mr. Pennington suspected. He was 
 engaged on a picture which pleased him ; he was 
 daily in the enjoyment of refined and pleasant 
 society ; he was shone on by the smiles of beauty, 
 and had hourly opportunities of improving his ac- 
 quaintance with the charms of Hannah's mind, 
 while the delight of finishing her portrait was yet 
 in store. He was now on speaking terms with 
 every one in Summerfield: the Wellfords pleased 
 him most; but he also liked Mr. Russell, Lewis 
 Pennington, and Mr. and Mrs. Good; while par- 
 tiality threw a halo round the other inhabitants 
 of the village who had less to recommend them. 
 On the first Simday which Lewis spent at Sum- 
 merfield, Huntley strolled, after morning service, 
 
216 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 along the banks of the httle river which wound 
 through the valle}'. It was a hot day m August; 
 and the willows and ashes which hung over the 
 sti'eam, formed a pleasant shade. Huntley fell 
 into reverie, and the subject of his thoughts was 
 Hannah. He felt that he loved her from the bot- 
 tom of his heart, and that the beauty which had 
 at first attracted him, was enhanced by the love- 
 liness of feminine virtues which no splendour of 
 intellect or fashion could excel. While he dwelt 
 on the gradually unfolded charms of her character, 
 with unalloyed pleasure, the doubt occurred to 
 him that possibly all his own endeavours to excite 
 attachment might be ineffectual. Huntley was 
 not without the pride of intellect, but he was not 
 vain. He gave his personal recommendations no 
 undue preponderance in the scale; and felt that 
 Hannah must be conquered by the power of mind. 
 While pursuing the same chain of thought, and 
 debating whether he could really afford to marry, 
 he threw himself on the ground, beneath the shade 
 of a little clump of trees. Scarcely was he seated, 
 when his ears were saluted by a tapping sound, 
 not unlike that of a woodpecker; soon after, some 
 one coughed, and then sneezed; and looking round, 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 217 
 
 Huntley perceived Sam Good seated at a little 
 distance, cracking nuts. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Mr. Huntley ? " said Sam, with 
 the ease of an old acquaintance, edging himself 
 nearer as he spoke : " I saw you in chm-ch this 
 moniing." 
 
 " Did you," said Huntley, 7iot inteiTogatively. 
 
 " Yes ; this is a fine day, is n't it ? " 
 
 " Very," replied Huntley. 
 
 " But very hot. How hot it was in church to 
 be sure! You and I have picked out a nice 
 cool place." 
 
 " I am hardly satisfied with it," said Huntley, 
 " I think I shall soon be moving." 
 
 " You won't better yourself if you do. How 
 goes on your picture .'' Ah, Mr. Huntley ! you 
 have a lovely subject." 
 
 " Yes, I think I have," said Huntley, growing 
 more interested in the dialogue. 
 
 " Sweet ! " said Sam, cracking a nut. " WiU 
 you have some filberts } They're hardly ripe, 
 though. Oh, I envy you, I assure you. She's a 
 pretty little thing, Rosina." 
 
 " Oh," said Huntley with mortification, " I 
 thought you were speaking of Miss Wellford." 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
218 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Hannah ? no. Rosina for my money. Such 
 ci peachy kind of complexion, such a dimple, and 
 such eyes. 
 
 " Yes," said Huntley, " Miss Rosina Wellford 
 is exceedingly pretty, but her sister is by far the 
 more beautiful girl." 
 
 " Rather an old girl, I think," said Sam. 
 
 " Old!" cried Huntley, looking as if he could 
 have knocked him down. 
 
 " Yes, old," repeated the pert little articled 
 clerk, " she looked as womanly as she does now 
 when I was leaving school, and was a tall girl 
 paying visits wdth her mother when I used to run 
 about in pinafores. I'm sure she can't be far from 
 three and twenty; and that, for a girl, I call 
 old." 
 
 Sam, finding he had all the conversation to 
 himself, soon afterwards walked off; and Huntley 
 remained throwing stones into the water; and 
 pondering on a young girl growing up in beauty 
 without its being seen and admu'ed by any one — 
 without even dreaming, herself, of her own ex- 
 ceeding fairness. There was something which 
 interested his fancy in the speculation. He won- 
 dered at Sam's audacity in calling Hannah by her 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 219 
 
 Christian name. It was a privilege lie had envied 
 Mr. Russell; but then, Mr. Russell had known 
 her from a child, and was almost old enough to 
 be her father ; at any rate, her uncle. Sam Good's 
 impertinence was unbearable ! 
 
 l2 
 
220 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SUSPICIOUS APPEARANCES. 
 
 " Well, how go on affairs in general, Rosy.?" said 
 Matthew, one afternoon as he opened the garden 
 gate. 
 
 " Affairs in general," repeated she, laughing, 
 " that is just like Sam Good. Come and see." 
 
 She led him towards Mr. Huntley's picture. 
 
 " Oh capital ! Upon my word, Mr. Huntley 
 is quite a — a what shall I say ? A second Apelles- 
 Only, don't fancy. Rosy, that you are half so 
 handsome as your picture." 
 
 " To be sure I shall not," said she, removing 
 his saucy fingers from her chin. " But I wish 
 you would leave off calling me Rosy. Lewis 
 Pennington does it, and I don't like it at all." 
 
 " By the by, where is Lewis .? I thought I should 
 find him here." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 221 
 
 "' He is riding somewhere, I suppose — I cannot 
 presume to say where." 
 
 " Can't you ? I should have thought you would 
 have known at any rate. What a fine, spirited, 
 open-hearted fellow he is ! " 
 
 " So I think, Matthew," said his mother; " I 
 am glad you seem to like each other." 
 
 " I am glad you think he likes w?e," said Mat- 
 thew. 
 
 " Dear ! why should he not ? " cried Rosina, 
 " Lewis Pennington need not be fastidious." 
 
 " No man had better be fastidious, but if any 
 one has a right to be so, surely Lewis has." 
 
 " I do not know why. He is not particularly 
 clever." 
 
 " Not deficient, either, Rosina, and particularly 
 pleasing, at any rate." 
 
 " He never says any thing very brilliant." 
 
 " Oh, as to that, how few people do ! The 
 most agreeable companions are not those who 
 are always striving to shine. Indeed, the very 
 effort has something disagreeable in it." 
 
 " Ah, Matthew, but clever people can be bril- 
 liant witliout effort." 
 
222 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " How long is Lewis going to stay there ?" said 
 Matthew, taking hold of one of Rosina's ringlets. 
 
 " How should I know ? How should we 
 know ? " said she quickly. 
 
 Matthew examined the pictiu:e for a few minutes, 
 and then suddenly exclaimed, " I can tell you a 
 piece of news if you like to hear it." 
 
 " What is it ? " inquired Hannah. 
 
 " Guess," returned he. 
 
 " What a tiresome way that is of answering ! " 
 cried E-osina; "just like Mr. Russell." 
 
 " Wliy, Hosy," said Matthew goodhumouredly, 
 " first you accuse me of imitating Sam Good, next, 
 Lewis Pennington, and next, Mr. Russell. To 
 hear you talk, one would think I picked up all the 
 east off bad habits of the parish. Have I learnt 
 any thing of Mr. Huntley ? Hey ? " 
 
 She blushed, and said, " Well, whom does your 
 news relate to ? " 
 
 " None of the present company," said Matthew. 
 
 "Sam Good.?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " The Miss Hinckleys of Hundleford, then. I 
 suppose one of them is going to be mamed," 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 223 
 
 " You girls must always be thinking of wed- 
 dings," said Matthew. " Oh, you are quite out. 
 It is nothing so serious as matrimony. Mrs. 
 Shivers has returned to the Pleasance ! " 
 " Is that all ? " 
 
 " All ! You would have thought a great deal of 
 it a month ago; but lately, these paintings and 
 visitings have made you so dissipated that you 
 can't be sui-prised at any thing only a little out of 
 the common. Yes, she has come back from the 
 continent at last ; and Mr. Good was sent for, this 
 morning, to attend the housekeeper ; but as it is 
 only the housekeeper, I dare say I shall go to the 
 Pleasance to-morrow. Don't you envy me ? " 
 " Envy you ? No ; why should I ? " 
 " You have often said you should like to see 
 the house and grounds." 
 
 " Oh ! — yes ; but not in that kind of way." 
 " That kind of way ! Let me tell you. Miss 
 Rosy, there is nothing disreputable in that kind of 
 way, as you call it. A medical man is on equal 
 terms with his patients — " 
 
 " But your patient is only a housekeeper." 
 " But Mr. Good saw Mrs. Shivers herself, and 
 lunched with her into the bargain. Don't be high 
 
224 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 and mighty, Rosy, — Rosiua, I mean ! You had 
 not these fine airs till lately. And what right have 
 ■we to fine airs, any of us ? " 
 
 " Excellent, Matthew," said his mother with a 
 smile. 
 
 Circumstances seemed to conspire mifortunately 
 against the success of Lewis's wooing. Rosina's 
 fancy, and as she believed, her heart, were com- 
 pletely ])re-occupied by his rival : she made fre- 
 quent comparisons between them, and Huntley's 
 genius and accomplishments always bore the 
 palm. Even the honhommie and guilelessness of 
 heart which formed the greatest charm of Lewis's 
 character, were against him under present circum- 
 stances, since they were completely opposed to the 
 austere grace and mysterious dignity which she 
 considered could alone atone in a hero for the 
 absence of the fire of genius. His wit only 
 amounted to pleasantry, and he rarely affected sen- 
 timent, even for her sake. To -amuse and be 
 amused seemed with him a greater object than to 
 shine : his partiality for her was too openly and 
 boyishly expressed ; and to sum up his delinquen- 
 cies, he had now and then, when tempted by a 
 little extra kindness, ventured to call her Rosy ! 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 225 
 
 How was it possible to endure such an ignomini- 
 ous abbrevation, even from a second-cousin ? or to 
 believe that the person who voluntarily so ad- 
 dressed his mistress, could have a spark of 
 chivalrous or impassioned feeling in his compo- 
 sition ? Instead of exalting her into a goddess, it 
 was dragging her down to the level of a milkmaid ! 
 Rosina was even perverse enough to be secretly 
 angry that Lewis should be better looking than 
 Mr. Huntley, and she would never allow the fact 
 to her mother and sister, saying that they might 
 seek in vain for Huntley's genius in Lewis's eyes. 
 Indeed her conversation had generally so much 
 direct or indirect reference to Huntley, that this 
 very circumstance might have taught her that hers 
 was not the sweet silent passion of the heart, 
 but merely a feverish dream of the imagination. 
 Hannah was well persuaded of it, and was even 
 convinced that Huntley's admiration of her sister 
 had little depth, though she was unaware of the 
 stronger feeling which she had herself excited. 
 Mrs. Wellford and the young painter were almost 
 the only persons who had not penetrated or guessed 
 what Rosina fancied the secret of her heart. From 
 the latter she had skill and delicacy enough to 
 
 L 3 
 
226 VILLAGE BEIlE^j 
 
 enable her successfully to conceal it ; and of her 
 mother she was sufficiently afraid to beware of 
 laying herself open to raillery and reproof. Mr. 
 Russell was much more aware of all that was going 
 on than she suspected ; and Lewis, whose vision 
 Iras sharpened by jealousy, saw a good deal both of 
 what did and what did not exist. In the first place, 
 he was puzzled to decide Mdiether Rosina's conduct 
 sprang from coquetry, from unconsciousness of 
 his attachment, or from actual preference of his 
 rival ; but the conduct of that rival appeared much 
 less doubtful. The intensity of expression in 
 Huntley's eyes when he looked at Hannah, and 
 the softness of his voice in addressing her, con- 
 vinced Lewis that much more was here than 
 simple politeness, and he believed that Huntley 
 was playing a double part towards the sisters. Of 
 this, Huntley was indeed guiltless ; but appear- 
 ances were against him, and as it was impossible he 
 should marry both, Lewis believed he was only 
 trifling with either, and boiled with indignation 
 at the thought. His suspicions were also awa- 
 kened in another quai'ter. When we have looked 
 long on a bright object, every thing else seems, to 
 our dazzled eyes, to wear the same hue. Lewis 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 227 
 
 began by considering what an excellent match 
 might be made between his two favourites, Mr. 
 Russell and Hannah, and arguing on rather un- 
 substantial premises, he at length persuaded liim- 
 self that the gentleman, at least, was not indifler- 
 ent ; and in fact, deeply though secretly in love. 
 Lewis could find no more work for the blind god 
 in Summerfield : to think of Matthew and Phoebe 
 Holland was too ridiculous. 
 
228 VILLAGE BELLES; 
 
 CHAPTER XV; 
 
 CIVIL IMPERTINENCES. 
 
 Mrs. Good gave a tea party; The Green ways 
 and Mrs. Wellford were invited to make up a 
 Ivhist table for Lady Worral ; and the young Well- 
 ibrds, the Miss Hollands, Mr. Russell, Mr. Hunt- 
 ley, and Lewis Pennington were free to amuse 
 themselves as they pleased with music or conver- 
 sation. Huntley was cut off from Hannah, by 
 Mrs. Good, Miss Holland, and Mr. Russell, who 
 formed a sociable little knot at one of the open 
 \\dndows ; therefore, au dernier ressort, he played 
 the agreeable to Rosina. 
 
 " Did you ever try the ' Sortes Virgiliange ? ' " 
 said he. " Supjjose we try our fortune." 
 
 He opened a book at hazard. The first sen- 
 tence that met his eye was "A woman, who from 
 a sloven, becomes neat, or from being neat, be- 
 eomes a sloven, is assuredly in love." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 229 
 
 " Aha, ladies ! who does that apply to ? " said 
 Matthew, looking round. 
 
 " Not to me, I am sm-e," said Rosina, meeting 
 his eye securely, " I never was a sloven." 
 
 "Oh! nor I," cried Miss Phoebe Holland, " I 
 would not be a sloven for all the world." 
 
 " Well, we will try again," said Himtley, taking 
 up another book — " perhaps the next random 
 shot may hit some of us more closely. The next 
 fehall be for me : — 
 
 ' Ah me, they little know 
 Under what torments inwardly I groan ! ' " 
 
 Huntley raised his eyes, hoping to meet those 
 o^ Hannah, but unfortunately they encountered 
 Rosina. 
 
 " Try for me," said Lewis impatiently. 
 
 Huntley re-opened the Milton, and read : — 
 
 " My sentence is for open war : of wiles, 
 More inexpert I boast not. " 
 
 " I hope that does not hit," said Huntley 
 laughing. 
 
 Not very far from the mark, however, thought 
 Lewis. 
 
230 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " I will dip again for you," continued Huntley. 
 "This time it shall be into Shakspeare: — ' There 
 are none of my uncle's marks upon you ; 
 he taught me how to know a man in love, 
 in which cage of rushes, I am sure you are not 
 prisoner — his marks were, a lean cheek, wliich 
 you have not; a blue eye and simken, which you 
 have not; and a beard neglected, which you have 
 not.'" 
 
 Rosina smiled ironically. " And here is another 
 for somebody," cried Matthew, reading over Hunt- 
 ley's shoulder — " ' By my troth, I was seeking for 
 a fool when I found ?/o«. '" 
 
 "Thank you," said Huntley goodhumouredly. 
 
 "Gently, Matthew," said Lewis Pennington, 
 " remember it is playing with edged tools." 
 
 "Yes, but the joke is," returned Matthew, "that 
 nobody must complain if they cut their fingers." 
 
 "Dear! I think it is very entertaining," said 
 Miss Phoebe. " Do let me try." She took up a 
 book and read, with amusing emphasis, 
 
 " Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke." 
 
 "Who is our duke?" inquired she, looking 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 231 
 
 round with an air of perplexity. Nobody could 
 tell her; and Matthew began to laugh. 
 
 " That is a very stupid one," said Phcebe, with 
 disappointment. She made two or three other 
 attempts, but they were equally unfortunate. 
 
 " Well, I cannot think how you do it," said she 
 laying down the book. 
 
 " All chance, ma'am," said Huntley. 
 
 " I think," said little Fanny Good, who had 
 been a silent but not unobserving bystander, " that 
 Mr. Huntley does not always read quite the first 
 \vords he sees, but that he looks down the page, 
 and that if he sees any thing like anybody, 
 he " 
 
 "Oh, hush, Fanny, hush," said Matthew, laugh- 
 ing heartily and drawing her away. 
 . " Oh, do let me go, Matthew," said she, strug- 
 gling, "and I won't say any thing again." 
 
 "What do you think of this, Rosina?" said 
 Lewis, in a low voice, pointing to a line in one of 
 Madame de Genlis's works, which he was not ma- 
 licious enough to read aloud — 
 
 " Une coquette se fait un jeu cruel d'inspirer des 
 sentimens qu'elle est decidee a ne partager jamais." 
 
 "Well!" said Rosina, hardily, though she 
 
232 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 coloured at the application. Lewis looked at her 
 and seeing nothing to hope for in her countenance, 
 sighed and turned away. " Pray dip for me, Mr. 
 Huntley!" cried she wdth assumed eagerness. 
 *^ you promised you would dip for me, and you have 
 not done so yet." 
 
 "Dip! ay, dive, if you will," replied he, "into 
 the depths of the ocean ! " 
 
 "That would be rather too cruel of me to 
 exact." 
 
 " And do not you love cruelty.?" said he expres- 
 sively. Rosina little thought that he was alluding 
 to Lewis. 
 
 " Come, here is something about Rosaline. 
 That may stand for Rosina, may not it? 
 
 ' Who sees the heavenly Rosahne 
 That, like a rude and savage man of Inde, 
 At the first opening of the gorgeous east, 
 Bows not his vassal head, and stricken blind 
 Kisses the base ground with obedient breast ? ' " 
 
 Rosina laughed. " Oh, pray dip for me, Mr. 
 Huntley !" cried Miss Phoebe. 
 
 " Certainly," he rejihed, again opening Milton, 
 
 " ' But who is this, what thing of sea or laud, 
 That ' 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 233 
 
 Ohj this won't do at all," cried he. 
 
 " Yes, yes, pray go on ! " implored Miss Phoebe. 
 Huntley resumed — 
 
 " Who is this, 
 That so bedecked, ornate, and gay. 
 Comes this way sailing, like a steady ship 
 With all her bravery on, and tackle trim. 
 Sails tilled and streamers waving ?" 
 
 " Deal- ! I'm sure I am not like a ship," said 
 Phcebe, glancing at her canary lutestring. 
 
 " No, not the least in the world ! I told you it 
 was quite mal-a-propos," said Huntley, turning 
 irom her, and exchanging an arch look with 
 Rosina. 
 
 " What game have you there, ladies and gentle- 
 men, which seems to entertain you so much ? " 
 said Mrs. Good. 
 
 " Sortes VirgiliansB, they call it," said Miss 
 Phoebe, approaching her with a rather dissatisfied 
 air. " It is very entertaining, a little of it, but one 
 gets tired of it in time." 
 
 " Will you favour us with a little music then ? " 
 said Mrs. Good, rising to open the piano. Matthew 
 hastened to save her the trouble, and having 
 
234 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 launched Miss Phcebe into a solo, returned to 
 Lewis. 
 
 " I agree with Miss Phoebe," said Lewis in a 
 low voice, glancing at the same time towards 
 Rosina and Huntley, who were deep in flirtation, 
 " that one may push Sortes VirgilianaB a little too 
 far. Mr. Huntley has, under their protection, in- 
 sulted or flattered almost every one of the party." 
 
 " And did not you take advantage of them to 
 push Rosy rather hard } " inquired Matthew. " I 
 saw her "blush pretty deeply." 
 
 The little party at the window being now 
 broken up, Hannah and Mr. Russell approached 
 the table. 
 
 " So you have been playing at Sortes Yirgili- 
 ange," said Mr. Russell. " Had you any clever 
 hits?" 
 
 " Some rather hard hits," said Matthew; "they 
 that play at bowls, — you know the rest." 
 
 Mr. Russell looked up from the book he had 
 casually opened, struck by some rather daring 
 speech of Huntley's. He glanced across the table; 
 saw Rosina, brilliant in beauty and reckless spirits ; 
 Huntley, whose back was towards him, rattling 
 
Village belles, 235 
 
 on ■with gi'eat animation and obvious encourage- 
 ment ; and Lewis biting his hp as he silently 
 tiunied over a portfolio of prints. He looked 
 down again on his book, but it was absently, 
 and he caught most of the conversation. INIiss 
 Phcebe coming to the end of her ' air variee, 
 Huntley's and Rosina's voices were sans accom- 
 paniment, and the flirtation paused in mid career* 
 Mrs. Good now asked Rosina to play. She re- 
 quired rather more pressing than usual, but at 
 length placed herself at the piano. She began 
 one of Lewis's favourite songs. Mr. Russell could 
 not help being amused by Lewis's movements. 
 First, he started at hearing the well-known sym- 
 phony, but continued turning over the prints — 
 then he paused with his eyes immoveably fixed on 
 the engraving before him, but evidentlj^ not thinks 
 ingofit; then he hastily looked round, but en- 
 countering a side view of Huntley resumed his 
 original position ; still however, intently listening: 
 at length, when the second verse commenced, with 
 a line of which he particularly admired the senti- 
 ment, Lewis arose, pushed away the prints, and in 
 another moment, was leaning over the piano. 
 "'Sweet Helen' has conquered !" thought Mn 
 
S36 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Russell ; and he turaed to see if Hannah had been 
 observing- the little scene ; but she was speaking 
 to Fanny Good. Fanny was called away, and 
 Mr. Russell approached Hannah with a book in 
 his hand. 
 
 " I have been trying," said he, " my luck at the 
 Sortes, but I have not opened yet, on a single 
 applicable passage. Let me make one more at- 
 tem23t, and if that is unsuccessful, I shall give it 
 up in despair." 
 
 He opened at hazard, and began to read. A 
 smile stole over his countenance. " This is pretty, 
 is not it?" said he; and sitting down by Hannah, 
 he read in an under tone the following passage. 
 
 " ' Happiness is the natural design of all the 
 world ; and every thing we see done is in order 
 to attain it. My imagination places it in friend- 
 ship. By friendship, I mean an entire communi- 
 cation of thoughts, wishes, interests, and pleasures, 
 being undivided : a mutual esteem, which naturally 
 carries with it a pleasing sweetness of conversation, 
 and terminates in the desire of making one another 
 happy, without being forced to run into visits, 
 noise, and hurry, which serve rather to trouble 
 than compose the thoughts of any reasonable crea- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 237 
 
 ture. I take you to have sense enough not to 
 thmk this romantic' " 
 
 " "Wliat do you think of it ? " said he. 
 
 " I think that it is romantic," said Hannah, 
 smihng, " but very beautiful, and not impossible." 
 
 " Do you think it not impossible, merely from 
 judging of your own mind, or from any example 
 you have observed in the conduct of others?" 
 
 Hannah considered, and replied, " From both. 
 My own feelings make me believe that I could be 
 happy in the cultivation of such a friendship; and 
 I also think that a friendshij? such as you have 
 described does exist, between my mother and 
 myself." 
 
 Mr. Russell's dark eyes said very flattering 
 things at that moment, if Hannah could but have 
 translated their meaning. 
 
 " But, Hannah," said he, " the friendship spoken 
 of in this book is supposed to exist between per- 
 sons of different sexes." 
 
 " In that case," said Hannah, slightly blushing^ 
 " would not the feeling be called love?" 
 
 Matthew here interrupted them by offering a 
 plate of sandwiches. There had been a little stir 
 
238 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 going on in the room for some time, on account 
 of the arrival of Lady Worral's carriage, and the 
 sujDper having consequently to be hurried. Her 
 ladyship never gave suppers, and was angry with 
 those who did ; she therefore cast an evil eye on 
 the cakes, jellies, and blanc-manges which Mrs. 
 Good's hospitality had provided, and which the 
 servants in their haste had set in wrong places, de- 
 claring she would not touch one of them, yet never- 
 theless tasting every thing Mr. Good put upon her 
 plate. She was duly cloaked, handed ojit, and 
 bowed away; and then Mr. Good, declaring he 
 had no notion of letting the old lady break up the 
 party, went his rounds with the various good things, 
 which he pressed every one to taste. The young 
 men followed his example, and Lems and Hunt- 
 ley, each bringing Rosina some trifle, nearly 
 broke a plate between them in trying which should 
 be first. 
 
 " / was the commissioned," said Pluntley, 
 laughing. 
 
 " And I had the merit of guessing the lady''s 
 wishes before they were named," said Le-wds. 
 
 " How silly to dispute about a trifle ! " cried 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 239 
 
 Rosina. " Lewis came first, therefore I command 
 you, Mr. Huntley, to eat what you have brought, 
 yourself." 
 
 " Oh, that all ladies' commands could be as 
 pleasantly obeyed ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " That is a double entendre," said Matthew ; 
 " do you mean that the peculiarity of the pleasure 
 exists in obeying the lady, or eating the trifle ? " 
 
 " What a question for a gentleman to answer 1 " 
 returned Huntley. 
 
 " ' Gentleman ! ' " said Lewis to himself. " He 
 is but a painter. Perhaps if he were a gentleman, 
 I might make him either answer it or answer 
 for it." 
 
 " Lewis, will you be so kind as to give me a 
 glass of water? " said Hannah, who saw that some- 
 thing had vexed him. 
 
 " With pleasure," said he, starting at the sound 
 of her gentle voice — " will you not let me put a 
 little wine in it?" 
 
 " None, I thank you." 
 
 " If you were any one but Miss Hannah Well- 
 ford," returned he, smiling, " I should accuse you 
 of having covertly reprimanded my negligence in 
 not having asked you to take wine with me." 
 
240 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " But, as I am Miss Hannah Wellford," replied 
 she, "you will, I hope, give me credit for not 
 meaning to affront, even when appearances are 
 against me — and perhaps" (in rather a lower tone,) 
 " you will extend your credit to others also." 
 
 " I wish all others were as single-hearted," said 
 he, quitting her to fulfil her request. 
 
 At the same moment, Rosina said, " Here, Mr. 
 Huntley ; as Mr. Pennington brought me the 
 plate, I shall insist on your replacing it on the 
 table." 
 
 " How evenly you hold the balances between 
 your slaves!" 
 
 "What is that about slaves?" cried Mr. Rus- 
 sell. " Are you discussing the slave trade, Mr. 
 Huntley.? There is a curious paragraph on it in 
 this paper." 
 
 Huntley, caught in the trap, was forced to 
 glance over the paragraph; and before he laid 
 down the newspaper, he perceived some intelli- 
 gence, which made him forget Rosina, and enter 
 into conversation with Mr. Good and Mr. Russell. 
 The party now broke up, and Huntley's lodgings 
 lying in the same way as Mrs. Wellford's cottage, 
 he accompanied them to the gate, walking at the 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 241 
 
 side of Mrs. Wellford, while the girls, arm in 
 arm, followed closely behind. 
 
 Lewis lighted his bed candle the moment he 
 entered thp vicarage parlour, " Good night, Mr. 
 Russell," said h e 
 
 " Good night, Lewis. I hope you have had a 
 pleasant evening." 
 
 "Very!" replied Lewis with strong emphasis. 
 " Milton might well call woman a ' cleaving mis- 
 chief!"* 
 
 " Come, come, Lewis," said Mr. Russell, " don't 
 go to your pillow in ^Tath. The fault was not all 
 the lady's." 
 
 " Huntley led her on, you mean ! Consummate 
 
 puppy! If " 
 
 " No ifs, Lewis, just yet," interrupted his 
 friend playfully — " 1 did not mean Huntley : I 
 was thinking of yourself." 
 
 " I ! what have I done " 
 
 " I will tell you. You have by your attention 
 and flattery turned the head of a very Uvely, inex- 
 perienced young girl, already too prone to vanity. 
 Her heart has had no time to imbibe any depth of 
 feeling; she is proud of her power over you, 
 
 and " 
 
 M 
 
242 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 "Huntley has it all to answer for; not I," said 
 Lewis — "but why should I be surprised? All 
 women are more or less coquettes." 
 
 " Now, you are falling into the vulgar error, 
 my honest friend, and prefer laying the fault of 
 an individual on the whole sex, to confessing that 
 individual to be less perfect than many others. 
 Nay, you are doing Rosina injustice in calling 
 her a coquette, though I own, her conduct to- 
 night deserved the epithet of coquetry. But many 
 circumstances, and your ill-concealed vexation 
 among the rest, conspired to make her act reck- 
 lessly and foolishly. Perhaps even by this time, 
 she may be sony for her levity. Endeavour to 
 judge of her less like a lover, and more like a 
 reasonable being, if possible; and neither exact 
 super-feminine perfection, nor degrade your god- 
 dess into a flirt — the most contemptible character 
 to be found among the sex." 
 
 Lewis sighed, and repeated his good-night. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A DAY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 The following day was Sunday. Lewis, the son 
 of a rector and the guest of a vicar, had no inten- 
 tion of awaking feelings at variance with the 
 duties of the day, by calling at the White Cottage; 
 and, far from cherishing sentiments of enmity to- 
 wards Rosina, he felt more kindly as he knelt by 
 her side and repeated the same prayers. 
 
 Who can be angry on a Sabbath ? Not those 
 who after a week of trouble and toil, wake to a 
 consciousness that the ringing of the anvil has 
 ceased, that the flail lies silent on the threshing- 
 floor, that the husbandman and the manufacturer 
 taste of the strange thing, leisure, and that the 
 bell is summoning rich and poor to leam the same 
 duties and crave the same blessings in the temple 
 of God. Not those who feel that whatever bad 
 passions they foster six days in the week, pride 
 
 M 2 
 
244 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 should be reined in and contention Imslied while 
 the air around them is yet musical with admoni- 
 tions to love and peace, and with the mingled 
 orisons of assembled multitudes. Not those who, 
 if they ever pause and think, in the midst of dis- 
 sipation's feverish career, it is on that day when 
 the laws of this country cause places of pubhc 
 amusement to be closed and commerce to stand 
 still, that the small voice of conscience and the 
 gayer cry of nature may for a few short hours be 
 heard. 
 
 Afternoon service was just beginning, when the 
 imusual sound of carriage wheels was heard with- 
 out ; and shortly after, a very pretty woman in a 
 very pretty bonnet, entered the church and ad- 
 vanced towards the vicai''s ample pew. This, as 
 Mr. Russell had no occasion for its use, had con- 
 tinued to be occupied by the Wellfords, who now 
 with silent smiles made room for the miexpected 
 visitant. This lady was Mrs. Shivers of the 
 Pleasance. Her country seat stood in the adjoin- 
 ing parish, but she Avas in the habit of coming 
 once or twice in the course of the summer, to hear 
 Mr. Russell's afternoon sennon. Only a sort of 
 bowing acquaintance had hitherto existed between 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 245 
 
 her and the Wellfords : on the present occasion, 
 however, Mrs. Shivers was disposed to be very- 
 friendly and gracious. During the two years she 
 had spent on the continent, Matthew and Rosina had 
 gro^^Ti from mere boy and girl, into very prepos- 
 sessing looking young people ; and she had heard 
 enough of Mrs. Wellford and Hamiah from Mr. Rus- 
 sell to make her resolve to improve their acquaint- 
 ance on the first opportunity. No sooner, therefore, 
 had the service ended than she shook hands all 
 round, mistaking Lewis for Matthew, and Matthew 
 for his younger brother Harry : (no wonder she 
 was surprised at his gi'owth !) and the mistake was 
 not thoroughly explained till they reached the 
 churchyard. Then, she laughed at her own blind- 
 ness, wondered she should have fancied a likeness 
 where there was no relationship, was corrected in 
 that particular, and finally invited the whole family 
 to spend a long day at the Pleasance. Mrs. Weil- 
 ford excused herself on plea of the chstance, but 
 Mrs. Shivers, increasing in earnestness in propor- 
 tion to the difficulties started, would take no re- 
 fusal, and offered to send her poney-caniage for 
 them on the following day, if they had no other 
 engagement. She smiled so winningly that it was 
 
246 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 impossible to refuse : Mr. Russell and Lewis were 
 included in the invitation, and the lady drove off, 
 after making captive at least half a dozen hearts. 
 
 " Charming woman ! " exclaimed Rosina warmly, 
 as they walked home. " How completely her man- 
 ners are removed irom hauteur and affectation, 
 while it is impossible not to feel that they are 
 those of high breeding ! " 
 
 " The best of it is," said Mrs. Wellford, " that it is 
 not mere manner which fascinates us in Mrs. Shivers, 
 but real kindness of heart. Mr. Russell tells me 
 he knows of no one possessed of more genuine 
 excellence of disposition. It is true she is fond of 
 the gaieties of a London spring ; and, formed as 
 she is to give and receive pleasure in society, who 
 can wonder at it? Enough of the summer, au- 
 tumn, and wmter still remains for her to have much 
 leisure for self-improvement, and for doing a great 
 deal of good among her poorer neighbours." 
 
 " Exactly the sort of woman I should like to be, 
 and the sort of life I should like to lead ! " said 
 Rosina. " With such good looks, such resources, 
 and such a fortune, a woman of her age may be 
 quite as happy, I should think, as in the bloom 
 of youth." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 247 
 
 " Who can doubt it?" said Hannah. 
 
 " No one so sage as you are, of course," returned 
 Rosina, laugliing; " but I, for one, have always 
 wished ' le jnintemps de la vie'' could be per- 
 petual." 
 
 " A very foolish wish, my dear," observed Mrs. 
 Wellford. " Happiness depends on the modera- 
 tion and gratification of our desires, not on the 
 number of years we have told." 
 
 " But suppose, mamma, those desires should 
 be for a continuance of youth, beauty, and admi- 
 ration ? " 
 
 " Then, Rosina, I should say the person that 
 had foniied them was very weak ; and as much au 
 object of contempt as pity." 
 
 " Very likely ; but still that does not prove that 
 the ' dark brown years' are naturally as happy as 
 those of youth." 
 
 " You just now said," interposed Hannah, 
 " that you thought a woman of !Mrs. Shivers's 
 age might be quite as happy as in the spring of 
 life." 
 
 " Ay, but how ievf Mrs. Shiverses there are ! and 
 even she in another ten or fifteen years will no 
 longer be enviable. If her sight fails, what will be- 
 
248 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 come of her reading? if she grows deaf, what 
 pleasure can she take in society ? or, if rheumatic, 
 what will become of her charming rides in her 
 poney phaeton ? " 
 
 " Even with all these calamities attendant on 
 old age," said Hannah, " she may yet be happy. 
 There is a passage which struck me last night — " 
 
 " Wliat! at Mrs. Good's?" 
 
 " Yes, in one of the books which had been used 
 for the Sortes Vigilianae. It was in one of Lady 
 Mary Wortley Montagu's letters, concerning the 
 comforts peculiar to old age. I cannot repeat it 
 to you word for word, but I will shew it to you 
 when we reach home." 
 
 Hannah remembered her promise, and looked 
 out the passage. " You must consider," said she, 
 " that Lady Mary was nearly seventy years of age 
 when she WTote this letter, in a foreign country, 
 removed fi*om all her family, and almost wholly 
 prevented by weak sight from reading : in her 
 youth she had been a wit, beauty, and coquette ; 
 few therefore, could have had a better opportunity 
 of comparing feverish exciting pleasures with those 
 of monotonous tranquillity ; yet what does she say ? 
 ' It was formerly a terrifying view to me that I 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 249 
 
 should one day be au old woman. I now find 
 that natiure has provided pleasures for every state. 
 Those alone are unhappy who will not be contented 
 with what she gives ; but strive to break tln*ough 
 her laws, by affecting a perpetuity of youth ; which 
 appears to me as little desirable at present as the 
 dolls do to you, that were the delight of your in- 
 fancy.' She was happy, you see ; yet she had no 
 very lively feelings of religion. She does not say 
 that * God has provided,' but that ' nature has 
 provided pleasures for every state.' If such eon- 
 tent and satisfaction are the result of mere philo- 
 sophy, what would be the increased happiness of 
 a woman of religion, one who could look back, 
 not on a youth of frivolity and vanity, but of well 
 sustained trial ? " 
 
 " Very well argued indeed ! " said Rosina. " Cer- 
 tainly, Hannah, you are cut out for a parson's wife. 
 What an excellent helpmate you would be to darl- 
 ing Mr. Russell ! You would not only make his 
 puddings, but make his sermons." 
 
 Hannah did not lose her composure, nor even 
 blush at this sarcasm. " I have no ambition to 
 fill the post you have assigned me," said she, 
 " nor do I think my interference would be wanted 
 
 M 3 
 
250 .VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 either in Mary AVhite's puddings or Mr. Russell's 
 sermons." 
 
 " Perhaps not," returned Rosina, " but remem- 
 ber, after all, Hannah, the old age you have been 
 describing is that of a wife or widow ; not even 
 you can soften the dismal fate of an old maid." 
 
 " Nay," said Hannah, " try the passage I have 
 been reading in another way. ' It was formerly a 
 terrifying view to me that I should one day be an 
 old maid. I now find that nature has provided 
 pleasures for every state—' It reads quite as 
 well." 
 
 "Ay, but it has never been written; it is no 
 result of experience," said Rosina. " Oh, my 
 dear ! the old age of a single woman must be very 
 forlorn." 
 
 "Why so?" said Hannah. "Unless she has 
 outlived all her friends, which, I grant, must be 
 melancholy enough in any state, she has the con- 
 nexions of her youth who have gi'own old with 
 her, the same useful and innocent j)ursuits, and 
 the same religious consolations." 
 
 " Ah, but my dear Hannah, the ridicule! — " 
 
 " For what? Do women always marry sensible 
 men ? " 
 
VILLAGE BELIES. 25l 
 
 " Oil, certainly not.'* 
 
 " What honour is there, then, in the addresses 
 of a fool? Surely the woman who accepts a 
 weak, worthless man, merely to avoid the name of 
 an old maid, is more ridiculous than one to whom 
 only the negative stigma attaches, of never having 
 had an offer. Is thai the indispensable requisite? 
 Ladies would do well, then, to pin a list of their 
 conquered knights on their sleeve. But I did not 
 know that the diamond of which dozens of idlers 
 have inquired the price, was more valuable than 
 those shut up in the jeweller's drawer, or sleeping 
 in their mine." 
 
 " My dear Hannah," exclaimed Rosina with 
 sudden energy, *' I am certain that if you should 
 have the misfortune to be an old maid, you will 
 be the best that ever lived ! " 
 
 Hannah smiled, but sat down to read without 
 replying. 
 
 The following morning was as fine as Hannah 
 had hoped and Rosina anticipated. In prepai'ing 
 to visit so stylish a lady as Mrs. Shivers, even 
 Hannah was obliged to devote twice as much time 
 as usual to the cares of the toilette. Mr. Huntley 
 was consequently disappointed of his sitters, for 
 
252 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Rosina could scarcely spare time to nm down 
 stairs to make their excuses. " Poor Mr. Hunt- 
 ley!" cried she as she was returning to the bed- 
 room where Hannah was unfolding muslins and 
 ribbons, "he looked so disappointed! What a 
 thousand pities he is not going to the Plea- 
 sance ! " 
 
 " Nay, it will be too ridiculous of you, Rosina," 
 said Hannah, " if you spoil your day's pleasure 
 by regretting the absence of a person you see 
 at least once in every twenty-four hours." 
 
 " Who would have thought of the philosophic 
 Hannah's quoting ridicule as an evil to be avoid- 
 ed?" said Rosina with some pique. 
 
 " You dread it so much sometimes," said Han- 
 nah, " that I thought I could urge nothing more 
 likely to frighten you into common sense." 
 
 " And do you really think, my dear Hannah, I 
 am so very deficient in common sense ? " 
 
 " I think you now and then discover uncommon 
 sense," said Hannah playfully. 
 
 " Hark ! there is Matthew calling to us beneath 
 the window," said Rosina, running to the case- 
 ment. 
 
 " Will some of you come down ? " cried he. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 253 
 
 "We cannot, Matthew, we are dressing. Wait 
 a little while." 
 
 " I cannot wait," he replied, " I have run down 
 the lane to tell you I shall not be able to go with 
 you to Mrs. Shivers's. Old Kippis has sent over, 
 express, for Mr. Good, so I can't be spared." 
 
 " Oh, Matthew ! What a disappointment." 
 
 " Yes, it is a disappointment ; however, I am 
 going in the first place to Hundleford. That, 
 you know, will make some amends," added he, 
 laughing. "Where is Hannah? I know site 
 can't have her hair in curl papers. Oh, there you 
 are, Hannah. Good by; give my love to. my 
 mother. Rosina looks quite like a Juliet; it is a 
 pity Lewis is not here to play Romeo. I am glad 
 you have such a cool day." 
 
 Matthew kissed his hand and ran off. 
 - Exact to the time appointed, Mrs. Shivers's 
 carriage arrived, and, to the ladies' praise be it 
 spoken, it was not kept v^^aiting. The five miles' 
 drive was extremely pretty ; and Rosina was en- 
 chanted with the scenery, the weather, and the 
 easy motion of the phaeton. A neat lodge gate 
 admitted them into Mrs. Shivers's grounds, and 
 
254 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 after passing through a winding plantation, they 
 found themselves at the Pleasance. 
 
 The house was such a mixture of all styles, 
 that it was difficult to say whether castle, cottage, 
 or villa predominated. No one would ever have 
 designed a wJiole, such as it now stood, and it 
 was evident that each improver had run up his 
 own portion of the edifice with more regard to his 
 own peculiar taste than to what already displayed 
 that of his predecessor: time had thrown its mel- 
 lowing hue over all, and a variety of creeping 
 plants connecting battlement, balcony, and bal- 
 lustrade, beautified what was seen, and hid what 
 was incongruous. 
 
 In a small Gothic hall lighted with coloured 
 glass, Mrs. Shivers was waiting to receive her 
 guests, accompanied by a pleasing young lady 
 "wiiom she introduced as her niece, Miss Paken- 
 ham. After bonnets and shawls had been laid 
 aside and preliminary subjects discussed, Mrs. 
 Shivers proposed a walk through the conseiTatory, 
 saying she thought it would be pleasanter to go 
 over the grounds in the cool of the evening. 
 
 " Are you fond of flowers.?" asked Miss Pa- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 255 
 
 kenham of Rosina, as tbey proceeded towards the 
 conservatory. 
 
 " Yes," said Rosina, " but Hannah is much the 
 best botanist." 
 
 " Perhaps you are hke me, and think it pleasanter 
 to smell and look at flowers, than to learn their 
 long names. I never could conquer the andrias 
 and folias of the botanical dictionary. Unluckily, 
 or perhaps luckily, in my superficial education, 
 the learned languages were neglected ; and I must 
 say I infinitely prefer the ])oetical and simple 
 names of our flowers to your unpronounceable 
 Latin technicalities. There is a great deal of 
 sentiment in many of them. What can be prettier, 
 for instance, than daisy, ' daye ' s eye, which men 
 call the eye of the daye ' .? Or heart's ease, which 
 in France, they call 'pensee'? Again, does the 
 ugly W' ord Myosotis convey any sentimental ideas ? 
 But 'forget-me-not' at once reminds us of the 
 flowery epitaph of the slain at Waterloo, and the 
 tale of the gallant knight who plunged into a 
 lake to gather a tuft of flowers for his lady-love, 
 and had only time to fling tliem on shore and 
 exclaim ' forget me not' when he was whelmed in 
 the wateiy deep." 
 
256 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 "Where did you find that romantic story, 
 Maiia?" inquired Mrs. Shivers. 
 
 " I read it in a book, aunt, I assure you, though 
 not in the Botanical Magazine." 
 
 " The lady must have been very passionately 
 fond of flowers, if she did not think them too 
 dearly purchased," said Mrs. Wellford. 
 
 " And the gentleman must have been a very 
 modest self-estimator, to have set his life at the 
 same value as a tuft of forget-me-not," added Mrs. 
 Shivers. 
 
 " Oh, you ladies view the matter in too straight- 
 forward a light. How could he take a better 
 method of proving how highly he valued her 
 slightest M'ishes ? " 
 
 " A method which we need not fear will become 
 too common." 
 
 " No, indeed. Every spark of romance is now 
 extinguished. I should like to tell the story to 
 Charles!" 
 
 " He would say the man did not mean to 
 drown." 
 
 " Or else question the authenticity of the story. 
 That is the shortest way, when people meet with 
 any thing which they cannot reconcile to their 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 25T 
 
 own ways of thinking and acting. Oh, I will tell 
 the story to Charles and Mr. Hope by and by, 
 and hear what they say to it." 
 
 So, thought Rosina, other guests besides Mr. 
 Russell and Lewis are expected. 
 
 " Do you visit the Hopes?" said Miss Paken- 
 ham, turning to Rosina. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Ah, I thought the distance must be too great." 
 
 Too great indeed, thought Rosina, but there 
 are distances of rank as well as of parishes. 
 
 " Chai'les can make only one objection to Mr. 
 Hope," pursued Maria, " that he does not employ 
 Stultz. He has offered to introduce them to 
 each other the next time he is in town. Only 
 think of an introduction being necessary to a 
 tailor!" 
 
 " Strange indeed ! Pray, who is Charles ? " 
 
 " Oh, my brother. I forgot you did not know 
 him by name. Charles is a great connoisseur in 
 dress. He has written some valuable notes, I 
 assure you, on the Neckclothiana. He says, if 
 he ever publishes, it shall be a little work which 
 he has long had by him and to which he is making 
 continual additions on the subject of hats. He 
 
258 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 wishes to create a standard of taste. Oh, you 
 laugh, but the manuscript really exists, and is 
 full of similies and quotations. Now do not let 
 me prejudice you against Charles by these little 
 anecdotes, for he is one of the best creatures in 
 the world, only a little inclined to satke and 
 dandyism." 
 
 Rosina and Miss Pakenham had made the 
 tour of the conservatory long before Mrs. Wellford 
 and Hannah had sufficiently examined half its 
 contents. " Shall we wait or proceed to the pic- 
 ture galleiy ? " said Maria. 
 
 " Oh, the picture gallery by all means," rephed 
 Rosina. 
 
 "This way then. To tell you the truth, I am 
 delighted to leave that suffocating atmosphere. 
 What can be more intolerable than a conservatory 
 at the beginning of September ? " 
 
 Maria led the way to the picture gallery. It 
 was neither very large nor very valuable; but to 
 Rosina, who had not seen ten paintings in her 
 life, it appeared magnificent. A dozen or twenty 
 family portraits, some pretty landscapes and small 
 pieces by modem artists, and several good copies 
 from ancient masters completed the collection. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 25^ 
 
 Rosina was delighted; aiid Miss Pakenham had 
 almost equal pleasure in acquainting her with the 
 subjects and the names of the artists, and in 
 pointing out their merits and defects. Pictures 
 afford abundant materials for conversation. They 
 compared English, Italian, and Dutch scenery, 
 recalled historical and mythological anecdotes to 
 each others' memories, and detennined in what 
 respect di'ess had improved or decHned since the 
 days of Vandyke and Sir Peter Lely. When 
 these points had been discussed, they turned to 
 the long table which occupied the middle of the 
 gallery, covered with portfolios and books of 
 engTavings. There was an easy gaiety in Miss 
 Pakenham's manners which generally secured 
 her pleasing and being pleased; and she and 
 Rosina seemed drawn by instinct into speedy 
 acquaintanceship. Maria quickly discovered that 
 Rosina was better read and possessed of greater 
 talent than herself; but she neither felt any 
 shadow of jealousy on that account, nor contempt 
 for her unacquaintance with many trifling things 
 that had become household words in the temple of 
 fashion. While Miss Pakenham was shewing 
 her companion some of her own drawings, and 
 
260 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 pointing out their glaring faults with perfect 
 unconcern and good humour, they were joined by 
 Mrs. Shivers, Mrs. Wellford, and Hannah. The 
 hour before dinner was pleasantly spent; and 
 before the gentlemen had arrived, ]\Irs. Shivers, 
 to Rosina's delight, invited her to spend a few 
 days at the Pleasance. 
 
 " Maria's eyes seem to thank me for the propo- 
 sal," added she, smiling. 
 
 " I only fear you will turn my country girl's 
 head, with yom- kindness," said Mrs. Wellford. 
 
 " No, no, ladies do not turn each other's heads — 
 there is no fear. Let me see. How stand our 
 engagements ? The Forsters and Hamiltons are 
 coming to us to-morrow, with a train of servants, 
 so that I shall not have a bed unoccupied ; but 
 they will only remain a week, or ten days at the 
 longest, in their way to the sea-side, after which, 
 Maria and I shall be quite by ourselves ; when I 
 hope, my dear, Mrs. Wellford will spare you to 
 us. I must not dare to run away with both her 
 daughters — " 
 
 Rosina was smiling with embarrassed pleasure, 
 when Mr. Charles Pakenham entered the gallery. 
 He was neither handsome nor plain, but gentle- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 261 
 
 manly in manner, and Rosina fancied he looked 
 satiiical. She would not have known that his 
 dress was the height of fashion, had not his 
 sister hinted at the fact ; since not Pelham, the 
 prince of coxcombs, could have been freer from 
 every symptom of finery likely to attract vulgar ad- 
 miration ; and it was only the initiated who could 
 duly appreciate the easy and graceful fit of his 
 costume, the finished tie of his cravat, and the 
 negligent disposition of his hair. All these niceties 
 were lost on our village belles, who only saw that 
 he was pale, had light eye-lashes, and rather 
 highly arched eyebrows. 
 
 " What can make Mr. Russell so late, Charles ? " 
 said Mrs. Shivers. 
 
 " Really, ma'am, I cannot presume to say. 
 
 Possibly he wishes to exculpate himself fi-om the 
 
 charge of stupidity, for one of our poets tells us 
 
 that 
 
 ' Dullness ever must be regular. ' " 
 
 " I half expected Mr. Hope." 
 
 " Did you ? I did not." 
 
 " Why not ? You heard me ask him." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, so I have often j but, as Milton 
 
262 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 says, ' Hope never comes.' I suppose he is airaid 
 of Maria's bright eyes." 
 
 " What nonsense, Charles." 
 
 " So / think, Maria. I've stood their hghtning 
 a good many years, have not I, without being 
 hurt!" 
 
 " You know I did not mean that." 
 
 " What did you mean, then } " 
 
 " That you had assigned no good reason for Mr. 
 Hope's not coming." 
 
 " Good reason ? How do I know that he has 
 any ? Perhaps he does not wish to lunch three 
 hours before his usual dinner time. Perhaps he 
 does not patronize English cooks." 
 
 " 1 should hope," said Mrs. Shivers, " my cook 
 was good enough for " 
 
 " Hope ^ that's tautology. Do you patronize 
 tautology, Miss Wellford ? " 
 
 " I should hardly presume to patronize any 
 thing," replied Hannah smiling. 
 
 " That is very ^vl•ong. Veiy wrong indeed. 
 Perhaps you do not know that it has been the 
 fashion to patronize every thing, this season. In- 
 stead of talking of liking and disliking, the phrase 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 263 
 
 is ' I patronize this' — ' I don't patronize that.' It 
 is thought amazingly witty. Have you been 
 shewing off your drawings, Maria ? " 
 
 He sat down to examine them, and affected to 
 be struck with admiration. After turning over all 
 which lay on the table, he seized on a portfolio. 
 
 " There is nothing in it worth seeing, I assure 
 you, Charles," said Miss Pakenham. 
 
 " Allow me to satisfy myself on that point," he 
 returned. " You do youi* drawings injustice, my 
 dear; they display a great deal of originahty. 
 Here, Miss Wellford, you behold what at first you 
 might suppose a mere collection of scratches ; but 
 on nearer examination, you will find it to consist 
 of the various parts of Queen Mab's atomy phaeton. 
 These diverging lines, you perceive, represent the 
 waggon spokes made of long spiders' legs : this 
 little piece of scribble is the cover of grasshop- 
 pers' wings ; this acute angle is the cricket-bone 
 whip, while the faint uncertain marks in this di- 
 rection are a gi'and and original attempt to repre- 
 sent ' the moonshine's watery beams.'" 
 
 " How can you invent such nonsense, Charles ? 
 It is merely the scrap of paper on which I tried 
 my pencils." 
 
•264 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Is it?" said he, with a look of na'iVete. 
 
 " Here come Mr. Russell and Mr. Pennington 
 at last," said Mrs. Shivers. 
 
 Lewis appeared with a coimtenance of entire 
 serenity. He rejoiced in entering a society from 
 which Mr. Huntley was excluded ; and the smil- 
 ing looks of Rosina, whom he had never seen 
 dressed to so much advantage, completed his 
 satisfaction. Rosina was struck, in her turn, with 
 the perfect ease and good breeding which cha- 
 racterized his manner of addressing Mrs. Shivers 
 and the Pakenhams. As soon as politeness ad- 
 mitted, he secured a chair beside her, and began 
 to talk, merely for the sake of hearing her answer. 
 
 " So Matthew is not here." 
 
 " No; Mr. Good could not spare him. Pie was 
 obliged to go to Hundleford." 
 
 " Matthew won't have much objection to that, 
 will he } He likes going to Hundleford." 
 
 " Yes, but it was a disappointment neverthe- 
 less." 
 
 " Wliat sort of people are the Hinckleys ? " 
 
 " Oh, I only know them from seeing the young 
 men and women ride about on horseback. They 
 are very rich, and live in an old manor-house — " 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 265 
 
 " Something like a tea-caddy. I have seen it 
 in my rides. I asked a countryman whose house 
 it was, and he told me Mr. Hinckley's. There 
 are two yew-trees in the garden, one represent- 
 ing a peacock, the other a dragon. Did you 
 enjoy your ride here to-day?" 
 
 " Yes, very much. It was delightflil." 
 Dinner was now announced, and Lewis offered 
 her his arm. Every one else had been laughing 
 at some witticism of Mr. Pakenham's, which Ro- 
 siua wished Lewis had not prevented her hearing. 
 " You see I have made no strangers of you," 
 said Mrs. Shivers, as tlie first course of an elegant 
 but unostentatious dinner was uncovered. 
 
 " Is that an excuse or a boast, my dear aunt ? " 
 inquired Mr. Pakenham. 
 
 " Oh — perhaps a little of both. Why do you 
 ask?" 
 
 " Because the former is quite out of fashion, 
 and the latter might be made by the poorest per- 
 son in the kingdom." 
 
 " You are a saucy fellow," said his aunt good- 
 humouredly. " Pi"ay, Mrs. Wellford, is Lady 
 Worral ill, or absent from Okely Park? I missed 
 her yesterday in her accustom.ed pew." 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Lady Worral has a severe cold," said Mrs. 
 Wellford, " which she made worse by going home 
 late from Mr. Good's on Saturday." 
 
 " I rather wonder at Mr. Good's tempting her 
 to go out." 
 
 " His duties as an apothecary and a hospitable 
 neighbour were in opposition," said Mr. Russell. 
 " Mrs. Good's invitations were already issued, and 
 Lady Worral did not like to be disappointed of 
 her rubber. In such a case, you know, a medical 
 man could only say ' 1 think you had better not 
 come, though I shall be happy to see you.' " 
 
 " An odd time of year, this, to take cold," ob- 
 served Mr. Pakenham. 
 
 " Oh, people may have colds any time of the 
 year, in this changeable climate," said Maria. 
 
 " But the weather has not changed lately," re- 
 turned Charles. 
 
 " I can tell you how liady Worral caught her 
 cold, since it excites so much speculation," said 
 Rosina, laughing, " she has been very busy lately, 
 superintending the painting and whitewashing of 
 her house ; insomuch that the workmen, being 
 rather wonied by her constant interference, pre- 
 tended one day not to know she was underneath 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 267 
 
 the scaffolding, and upset a pail of water, which 
 deluged her from head to foot." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! A capital shower bath !" cried 
 Mr. Pakenham. 
 
 " But Rosina," said Mr. Russell, — " though the 
 pail was certainly overset, how do you know that 
 the men were wonied, and that it was not an ac- 
 cident ? " 
 
 " Oh, Lady Worral told me she was sure they 
 had done it on purpose ; and as to her woiTying 
 the men, I said she did so then, because she does 
 so always." 
 
 " Surely that was fair," said Lewis, glancing at 
 Mr. Russell. 
 
 " Poor woman ! " said Mrs. Wellford, " she was 
 very warm at the time, and, of course, unprepared 
 for the shock. Then, she stood scolding the men in- 
 stead of immediately changing her clothes, so that 
 it was no wonder that for three or four days she 
 should be seriously ill." 
 
 " And she might have been so to this day if it 
 had not been for the nursing of some very kind 
 young ladies," observed Lewis. 
 
 " The Miss Wellfords, of course," said Mr. Pa- 
 kenham. " And pray, Miss Rosina, may I be so 
 
 N 2 
 
•268 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 bold as to enquire how you entertained the old 
 lady ? Probably you read to her works of pious 
 instruction, and received from her lips those pre- 
 cepts of morality and propriety wliich experienced 
 age is so well qualified to give." 
 
 " For shame, Charles ! " said Miss Pakenham. 
 
 " No," said Rosina, smiling, " I used to read 
 the newspapers to her, and sometimes play a game 
 of cribbage : at other times, I took my work, and 
 told her whatever I could think of to entertain 
 her." 
 
 " Alias, a little innocent scandal, I presume," 
 rejoined Mr. Pakenham. " Talking of scandal — 
 there was an anecdote I heard the other day — 
 quite true, I can pledge my word for it, though I 
 won't name the parties. A certain dowager was 
 in want of a companion — in connnon jiarlance, a 
 toady. You know the species, don't you? One 
 that hears everlasting stories with indefatigable 
 patience, and keeps bowing and bowing in sign of 
 attention, and nurses the sick lapdog, and ar- 
 ranges the sofa cushions, and writes confidential 
 letters, and keeps accomits. Well, some one 
 thought the situation would be highly eligible for 
 the daughter of an insolvent banker — we won't 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 269 
 
 mention names — who was on the point of starva- 
 tion ; but doubted whether she would be quahfied 
 for it on account of her want of education. She 
 described the girl as proficient in nothing but 
 dancing and di'ess, and doubted even whether she 
 understood simple subtraction. ' Oh! nevermind 
 that,' said the gentleman whom she was consulting 
 on the subject, ' never mind her ignorance of sub- 
 traction; if she vmderstands detraction, I dare 
 say that will answer every purpose.' " 
 
 " Excellent," said Lewis. 
 
 " But not very politely brought in, I think," 
 said Mrs. Shivers. 
 
 Charles put on one of his incomprehensible 
 looks, which made every one laugh. Maria's 
 mirth lasted the longest. 
 
 " I cannot imagine what all this laughing is 
 about," said he, coolly. " Mrs. Wellford, may I 
 have the pleasure — I " 
 
 The ladies, anxious to avail themselves of the 
 fineness of the evening, did not linger over their 
 dessert, and the gentlemen were too gallant te 
 keep them long in waiting. They re-united on 
 the hall steps, and Mrs. Shivers led the Avay with 
 Lewis. 
 
270 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " There's old Caius Marius, done in lead, you 
 see," said Mr. Pakenham, pointing to a pedestal- 
 led figure with his cane. " Mighty cold the old 
 fellow looks, among the quivering aspens, and as 
 if he were a little ashamed of his Roman drapdry, 
 among our superfine cloths and French silks. 
 There, again, stands Mercury, good as new, and 
 quite handsome; but who the next effigy is in- 
 tended to represent, whether a Grecian lamp- 
 lighter, or Alexander, ' seizing a flambeau with 
 zeal to destroy,' I protest myself unable to inform 
 you." 
 
 " Silly Charles!" cried Maria, " do not you see 
 that it is Hymen with his torch ? " 
 
 " Is it ? Nay then, he should have been placed 
 next to Many-US. Is that bad, Miss Wellford ? " 
 
 " Miss Wellford, I beg you will not encourage 
 him by laughing. Charles sets up for a fine gen- 
 tleman, which he will nevQj." be as long as he- 
 makes bad puns. A punster is on a level with a 
 pickpocket." 
 
 " Prove it, prove it, Maria ! " 
 
 " Nay, I have Dr. Johnson's authority for say- 
 ing so. I leave proofs for gentlemen; assertion is 
 enough for ladies." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 271 
 
 " Luckily for them, sweet creatures, who would 
 often find it difficult to substantiate their asser- 
 tions." 
 
 " But the assertion in the present case was a 
 gentleman's," said Mr. Russell. " Can you favour 
 us, Miss Pakenham, with Dr. Johnson's reasons 
 for treating poor punsters with such severity ? " 
 
 " No, ]VIr. Russell, I do not remember that any 
 were stated." 
 
 " Nay, then, for the honour of our sex, we will 
 find some for him." 
 
 " Not I," said Charles, " for I vow I think 
 punning a very allowable recreation; and it is 
 sufficient for the world to know it is patronized by 
 myself and Shakspeare." 
 
 " Ego ei Rex mens ! " said Maria. 
 " Come and admire this pretty tablet," cried 
 Lewis, a little in advance. 
 
 " It was a whim of Maiia's," said Mrs. Shivers 
 — " the motto is happy, is it not ? " 
 
 " ' Negli boschi, la vera 
 Vertu alberga ; il cittadino stuolo 
 Sol la spoglia ha di quella, o il nome solo.' " 
 
 " Happy for countryfolks that choose to apply 
 
272 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 it, with a smirk, to themselves," said Charles — 
 " It rather cuts up us poor West-enders." 
 
 " What does it mean ? " asked Rosina of Mr, 
 Russell in a low voice. 
 
 " Let me see," said he, " I must rub up my 
 Italian. It means, I believe, 
 
 " ' The sha'des are Virtue's home ; her slough alone 
 Is found in cities ; sometimes but her name.' " 
 
 " Condensation condensed ! " said Mrs. Shivers. 
 " JNIetastasio uses so few superfluous epithets that 
 he cannot often be compressed ; but you have cur- 
 tailed half a line." 
 
 " And half an idea," interrupted Mr. Pakenham. 
 " Listen to my version, and judge which is most 
 faithful.— 
 
 " ' Virtue lives in the woods, and deeply loathes 
 
 The cits, who have her name and her old clothes.' " 
 
 " Exquisite poetry!" said Lewis. " How feli- 
 citous is the idea of cits walking to and" iro in 
 Virtue's cast off garments ! " 
 
 " Sneer at Metastasio, not at me," said Mr. Pa- 
 kenham, " Why, 'tis a sight you may see every 
 day in London streets ! Affectation in an old veil 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 273 
 
 of Modesty, Assurance in a cast off smtoiit of 
 Frankness, Bravado flourishing a cane that had 
 been dropped by Bravery, and so forth to the end 
 of the chapter, ' all a sham,' as Clara Fisher says. 
 Where are we going? To the water-side? — Sup- 
 pose we have a little row. Do you patronize row- 
 ing, Mrs. Wellford?" 
 
 They had reached the river side, where a wherry 
 was moored to a landing place. 
 
 "Are you afraid, Mrs. Wellford?" said Mrs. 
 Shivers. 
 
 " Not in the least," she replied. 
 
 " Let me hand you in, then," said Lewis. " I 
 see there are some nice sculls." 
 
 " Sculls," repeated Hannah. 
 
 " Yes, not dead men's bones, but little oars, or 
 oai"-ettes. Were you never in a boat before ? " 
 
 " No," said Hannah, " the river, you know, is 
 not navigable at Summerfield." 
 
 " Let me give you a word of advice, then. Do 
 not mistake the boat for a drawing-room, for if 
 you attempt to promenade in it, we shall infallibly 
 be upset." 
 
 " Is there any danger ? " said Rosina, drawing 
 
 N 3 
 
274 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 back her foot. " The seat seems very near the 
 water's edge." 
 
 " No, no ; no danger in the world," said Mrs. 
 Shivers. " I did mean to have had araihng made, 
 but we so long habituated ourselves to use the 
 boa,t without one, that we have no fear ; and the 
 water, you see, is so shallow, that the sand and 
 pebbles can be perceived beneath." 
 
 Thus re -assured, Rosina ventured to enter, and 
 as Charles and Lewis intended to row, Mr. R\is- 
 sell seated himself with the ladies. Rosina, find- 
 ing how evenly the boat was trimmed, began to be 
 ashamed of her fears, and bent over the water to 
 watch the fish darting to and fro, so as now and 
 then to alarm her mother, who begged her to sit 
 still. She fi'equently said, " Dear mamma, there 
 is no danger," and secretly wondered how any one 
 could be afraid. Tliere is something in the mo- 
 tion of a boat which disposes people to reverie, 
 and Mr. Russell and Hannah were unusually si- 
 lent. Not so the rowers, whose exertions began 
 to make them rather too wai*m. Having passed 
 the skirts of the pleasure ground, the river wound 
 among sloping meadows, and the ti'ees no longer 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 275 
 
 screened them from the south-west wind. Lewis, 
 who had been out of practice since his quitting 
 Oxford, found his hands rather stiff, and pro- 
 posed raising the sail. The ladies had no ob- 
 jection, and Charles prepared to act as steersman. 
 After flapping to and fro for a little Avhile so as to 
 alarm the Wellfords, the sail caught the ^^'ind, 
 and they glided rapidly forward. 
 
 " How delightful !" said Rosina. 
 
 Lewis raised his countenance, glowing with e^t- 
 ercise and animation. " Yes," said he, " this quick 
 yet easy motion is much more luxurious than the 
 regular jolt of rowing. You must take care, how- 
 ever, to sit still, Rosina, for every thing depends 
 on the trimming of the boat." 
 
 " More than on the trimming of a hat, I can tell 
 you," said Charles. 
 
 " Or of an M.P.," added Maria. 
 
 " Oh, there is no fear," said Rosina. 
 
 " My dear Rosina, pray attend to Lewis's di- 
 rections," said her mother," a little fear is prefer- 
 able to danger." 
 
 " Certainly," said Rosina smiHng ; and dipping 
 her pretty fingers in the water, she began to hum 
 
276 VILLAGE, BELLES. 
 
 * Merrily, merrily bounds the bark,' to which 
 Maria playfully added a second. 
 
 " I propose," said Mr. Pakenham, "that instead 
 of tantalizing us by singing sotto voce, you should 
 awaken the echoes with some boat glee sung in 
 right earnest." 
 
 " Take care, Charles, or you will run us aground. 
 We are coming to the shallows." 
 
 " Never fear," said he, " I know the river w^ell 
 enough. By the by, Maria, do you remember 
 that ridiculous accident which happened to old 
 Mrs. Wigmore when we were going up to Rich- 
 mond?" 
 
 " For shame, Charles. — ^The woman was almost 
 drowned." 
 
 " This Mrs. Wigmore," pursued Charles, laugh- 
 ing, '' measured nearly two yards in circumference, 
 and probably weighed a ton. How any one could 
 think of inviting her to partake of an aquatic 
 excursion, I cannot imagine. She was terrified 
 lest every barge and bridge on the river should 
 fall foul of us ; and when the Diana steamer went 
 by, good heavens ! how she was alarmed at the 
 swell! At length we hoisted a sail, — ha! ha! — I 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 277 
 
 think I see lier now — she shut her eyes, clenched 
 her hands, — ha ! ha ! ha ! — and thought every mo- 
 ment would launch her into eternity. At every 
 tack, she nearly fell into convulsions ; and at 
 len gth, — ha ! ha ! ha ! — at length, — ho ! ho ! — a 
 squall ^'^ertook us, — she set up one to match it, — 
 liu ! ho ! ho ! — and was launched into the deep ! " 
 
 " Shocking !" cried Mrs. Shivers, " and what be- 
 came of her ? " 
 
 " Her pelisse," continued he, " her orange 
 coloured pelisse, stiffened with whalebone and 
 buckram, for a time bore her up— her parasol — 
 ho ! ho ! ho ! — which she grasped vigorously with 
 both hands, caught the wind, and conveyed her 
 like a majestic barge, right towards the Wands- 
 worth coast; rich, as you know, in slime and 
 rushes ; and there, among the congregated mud of 
 ages, she was safely deposited, howling most pite- 
 ously, while all who beheld her were in convul- 
 sions ! " 
 
 " Pray, Maria," said Mrs. Shivers," how much 
 of this tale may we credit ? " 
 
 " Indeed, aunt," said Maria, laughing, " nearly 
 the whole of it is true. We were not far, how- 
 
278 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 ever, from shore, and the parasol was an umbrella, 
 so that the adventm-e was not quite so miracu- 
 lous." 
 
 " And did none of you fine gentlemen try to 
 save her ?" inquired Mr. Russell. 
 
 " Not one of us," returned Charles, " she wo- >*^ 
 have sunk any one who had taken her in tuw. I, 
 indeed, thought of jumpir-s- in, just for the 
 look of the thing ; but by the time I had taken 
 off and fol ^od up my coat and waistcoat, she was 
 safely stranded. Good lack, what a pickle she 
 was in ! " 
 
 " Indeed she was !" ejaculated Maria. " Such 
 a pelisse !" 
 
 " And such legs !" 
 
 " Poor woman !" said Hannah. 
 
 " How very ridiculous !" said Rosina. 
 
 " I begged her umbrella as a memento of the 
 catastrophe," said Mr. Pakenham, " and the print 
 of her nails is to be seen in its handle to this day." 
 
 " Oh, Charles, Charles !— " 
 
 " To finish the scene, she lifted up her voice 
 and wept so vociferously that the households of 
 Lord Egremont and the Archbishop of Dublin 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 279 
 
 ruslied down to the water side to see what was 
 the matter." 
 
 " Charles ! Charles !" 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! Ho ! ho !" shouted Mr. Paken- 
 hani, laughuig convulsively, " I shall never forget 
 that day. The party was unique in every respect. 
 Mrs. Wigmore's husband was a puny little fellow 
 that put one exactly in mind of a Vauxhall sand- 
 wich. Then there was a girl who played off a 
 great many fine airs on me, and was continually 
 placing her foot in my way, for no other reason 
 that I could perceive, than to show me that for 
 once she had on silk stockings ; for she had pro- 
 digiously thick ancles. There was a pair of lovers 
 too, billing and cooing amazingly, of which I, 
 sitting directly opposite, had the full benefit ; and 
 never was I more annoyed in my life — I don't 
 patronize love-making." 
 
 " I thought the ladies were going to favour us 
 with a song," said Mr. Russell. 
 
 " Will you join us in a glee, Charles V said 
 Maria. 
 
 " You know," he replied, " what poor assist- 
 ance I can give you— Perhaps Miss llosina Well- 
 ford—" 
 
280 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Oh, indeed, indeed I cannot sing !" interrupt- 
 ed Kosina. 
 
 " That, of course," returned Mr. Pakenham ; 
 " I never expect to obtain a song from any young 
 lady, not professional, with less than half an hoiu-'s 
 entreaty. I will take out my watch. Now for it. 
 Pennington ! mind the turn of the river — Ahem ! 
 Miss Rosina Wellford — " 
 
 As he spoke, the sail, catching the breeze in a 
 new direction, changed sides so suddenly as to 
 excite a scream fi'om all the females. Lewis ex- 
 claimed, " Sit stiU !" but Rosina, on the side un- 
 expectedly lowered, imable to control her alarm, 
 started uj), lost her balance, and was precipitated 
 into the river. The boat would assuredly have 
 upset, had not Mr. Russell saved it by immediate- 
 ly rising, while Le^vis, with a hasty interjection, 
 sprang into the water after Rosina. It was little 
 more than breast high, therefore not very danger- 
 ous, and Lewis, whether by SAvimming or wading, 
 soon conveyed his hapless mistress to the shore, 
 where, still supporting her drenched and trembling 
 form, he looked at her with a mixture of partiality 
 and reproach, as he said, " Did not I advise you 
 to sit still ?" They were both too much agitated 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 281 
 
 to have even heard the cry of terror which arose 
 from their companions at the moment of Rosina's 
 submersion. Charles, who had hastily scrambled 
 over the ladies from his post at the rudder, seized 
 one of the oars, while Mr. Russell took the other, 
 and a few vigorous strokes brought them to the 
 side of the dripping pair. The three minutes which 
 had seemed interminable to Mrs. Wellford and 
 Hannah, appeared less than a moment to Lewis. 
 
 Rosina, wet, forlorn, and temfied, had not yet 
 lost so much of her usual self as to be quite insen- 
 sible to ridicule. She hastily released herself from 
 Lewis's arms, cast a fearful glance at her mother, 
 whom she expected to look angry; and at Mr. 
 Pakenham, whom she expected to look satirical ; 
 then turned half-reluctingly towards Lewis, whom 
 she knew not how to thank, and burst into tears. 
 Hannah was at her side in an instant ; and Lewis's 
 arm, in the fervour of the moment, again thrown 
 round her waist, while every oaie's countenance 
 expressed sincere concern. But Rosina again 
 quickly put back Lewis's offered support, wiped 
 her eyes, and with many blushes assured her 
 friends that she was very silly and had been very 
 much frightened, but not at all hurt. The only 
 
282 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 remaining fear was of her catching cold; and it 
 was therefore rapidly resolved, that she should 
 return to the house on foot as fast as she could, 
 accompanied by Hannah and Maria, while the 
 elder ladies walked home at a more moderate 
 pace, and Mr. Russell and Charles took back the 
 boat. Lewis made the best of his way to Mr- 
 Pakenham's dressing-room, where he obtained a 
 temporary change of clothing; and Charles re- 
 turned to the boat, looking extremely concerned, 
 since it makes a great difference whether the 
 person submerged be a pretty young woman, or a 
 fat matron weighing a ton. Rosina knew not the 
 sincerity of his commiseration; and though her 
 mother's " how could you be so foolish, my 
 dear?" had more of pity than displeasure in it, 
 she dreaded that the time would come when she 
 should be both scolded and quizzed. Her vaunts 
 of not being afi'aid had been very ignominiously 
 contradicted ; and various little circumstances 
 which she doubted not had been noticed by Mr. 
 Pakenham's quick eye, made her regard her pre- 
 server with no very grateful feelings. Neither 
 was it excessively pleasant to be completely wet 
 through, and to have one's best clothes clinging 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 283 
 
 about one with the tenacity of a bathing gown, to 
 say nothing of the mud they had collected. To 
 cry, too ! before strangers ; and such strangers ! 
 people to whom she so particularly wished to 
 appear in her best and most lady -like colours! 
 All these untoward circumstances made poor 
 Rosina's heart swell almost to bm-sting; and her 
 attempt to speak in an unconstrained tone to 
 Hannah and Maria nearly ended in a sob. They 
 pitied her too much to expect her to talk ; and as 
 soon as they anived at the house, Maria had her 
 own bed warmed, and assisted Rosina in undress- 
 ing. A fire was lighted, at which Hannah dried 
 her sister's clothes, and Miss Pakenham ran down 
 stairs to make her some tea as quickly as possible. 
 Once in bed, Rosina's woes gradually subsided: 
 she regained the command of her voice, and was 
 able to speak cheerfully and gratefully to Miss 
 Pakenham on her return, and to blame her own 
 foolish conduct with a very good grace. Her 
 mother now entered with Mrs. Shivers, who very 
 earnestly pressed her remaining at the Pleasance 
 for the night, which Mrs. Wellford seemed much 
 inclined to second; but Rosina, alarmed at the 
 thought of encountering the gay people who were 
 
284 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 to arrive on the following clay, declared she never 
 took cold, and made light of the whole affair. It 
 was therefore decided that she should in the even- 
 ing return to Summerfield with her mother and 
 sister, but in the mean time, remain by the fire in 
 Miss Pakenham's room. Mrs. Wellford and Han- 
 nah now accompanied Mrs. Shivers down stairs, 
 but Maria insisted on drinking tea with Roslna, 
 and by her cheerful kindness, rendered this almost 
 the pleasantest hour of a pleasant day. With the 
 moment of leave-taking, Rosina's uneasiness and 
 constraint of manner retmiied ; she remained 
 above stairs till the caniage was actually at the 
 door, and then descended, encumbered by a fur- 
 red cloak of Mrs. Shivers's, which she had been 
 compelled to weai* in addition to her own Avi'aps. 
 Lewis approached her with affectionate solicitude 
 in his look, and Mr. Pakenham, advancing at 
 the same moment, accosted her with " I shall 
 wish the wheny had been simk before we thought 
 of encumbering its unlucky planks. Miss Rosina, 
 if you suffer in consequence of your accident. My 
 lamentations are perfectly disinterested, you must 
 be aware, for of course it was highly gratifying to 
 us to behold you rising like Venus from the sea; 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 285 
 
 and as to Mr. Pennington, he was a hero and 
 Leander, both under one." 
 
 Rosina dreaded meeting his satiric eye; and 
 after bidding farewell to Mrs. Shivers and Maria, 
 who reminded her of her promised visit, she has- 
 tily cnrtseyed to Mr. Pakenham, and took Lewis's 
 offered arm. Charles accompanied them to the 
 carriage door, and could not help indulging, to 
 the last, in his ' dear wit.' " You had pleasant 
 weather for your bathing, you will grant," said he, 
 laughing, as they crossed the hall. " In future, 
 whenever you meet with a tallow-chandler adver- 
 tizing his ' short dips,' I dare say you will think 
 of the Pleasance. I should like to have been in 
 Pennington's shoes at one time. However, he is 
 in mine, at present, which amounts to the same 
 thing." 
 
 " Not quite," said Lewis, stealing a look at 
 Rosina's glowing cheek, and joressing her hand 
 fervently. She hastily withdrew it and entered 
 the caniage. Mr. Pakenham bowed, and she 
 thought irony lurked in his smile. So effectually 
 does an hour of pain damp a day of pleasure, that 
 Rosina took scarcely any part in the animated 
 conversation of her mother and sister on the 
 
286 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 events of the day, and spent the greater part of 
 the ride m ruminating on the mischances of the 
 afternoon. She had scarcely said or done any- 
 thing that she did not now wish altered. She 
 fancied she heard Mr. Pakenham describing the 
 catastrophe of the water-party with as much zest 
 as the calamity of the unfortunate Mrs. Wigmore ; 
 she feared that to Mrs. Shivers she must have ap- 
 peared heedless and weak; to Mr. Russell, af- 
 fected ; and to Lewis, ungrateful. Pondering on 
 these topics, she scarcely felt the feverish throb- 
 bing of her head or the ague chills that ran through 
 her frame. Her night, however, was sleepless ; 
 and, on the following morning, she found herself 
 labouring under so severe a cold as to prevent her 
 from rising. 
 
VaLLAGE BELLES. 287 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 EFFECTS OF COLD BATHING. 
 
 " Russell ! " said Lewis Pennington, drawing 
 
 a deep breath that sounded excessively like a 
 sigh, as they walked home from Mrs. Shivers's, 
 " I certainly am in love !" 
 
 " That is a remarkable discovery !" returned Mr. 
 Russell, laughing. " Truly, it places you nearly 
 on a level with Newton and Mungo Park ! The 
 object of your visit to Summerfield is an>:.wered 
 then, I suppose ; for, in my poor judgement, you 
 came ready primed and loaded, and only required 
 a touch to go off." 
 
 " Do not laugh at me," said Lewis, stiU al sos- 
 piroso, " for I am very serious." 
 
 " Well, I will be serious too," returned his 
 friend, " and say that I think your love-affairs are 
 in a very flourishing train. Nothing could be 
 more lucky than your rescue of Rosina to-day ; 
 
288 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 and to-morrow, I dare say, you will have a violent 
 cold, which will work upon her compassion." 
 
 " She is more likely to take cold than I am, I 
 fear," said Lewis. 
 
 " Oh, do not despair," rejoined his companion, 
 " I perceive a very promising huskiness in your 
 voice already." 
 
 " As to my rescue, as you tenn it," pursued 
 Lewis, " the risk to myself was so slight that it 
 would be ridiculous to plume myself upon it ; and 
 I fear it made no very strong impression on her 
 whom I most wish to ])lease." 
 
 " Nay," interrupted Mr. Russell, " if Rosina is 
 untouched by the service you have rendered her, 
 her heart must be as hard as the nether millstone. 
 But I think differently of her. What a blush 
 glowed on her cheek when we reached the bank ! " 
 Lewis smiled, though the darkness prevented 
 Mr. Russell from seeing the momentary illumina- 
 tion of his countenance. " All might be well 
 enough," exclaimed he abruptly, " if it were not 
 for that confounded fellow, Huntley ! " 
 
 " I manoeuvred to walk with Rosina to-day," 
 said Mr. Russell, " in order to give her a little 
 lecture on her behaviour of Saturday night ; but 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 289 
 
 somehow the subject stuck in my throat, and, like 
 the man in the old song, ' never a word could 1 
 say.'" 
 
 " I am glad of it," said Lewis, " for I would 
 not owe any change in her manner to interference. 
 No, let her feel and judge for herself; though I 
 wish to heaven we were fairly rid of that sly, ma- 
 licious, double-faced, insinuating " 
 
 " My dear Lewis," interrupted Mr. Russell, " I 
 cannot hear poor Huntley thus abused. It is not 
 his fault that a lively, thoughtless girl should be 
 dazzled by his wit, genius, and varied power of 
 pleasing." 
 
 " Mr. Russell," said Lewis gravely, " it is fine to 
 preach moderation to another; but wait till your 
 own time comes — wait till he supplants yourself, 
 and then see what becomes of your patience! 
 Perhaps the trial may not be so very far off." 
 
 " I am at a loss to understand you," said Mr. 
 Russell. " Supplant »ie ?* In what manner? What 
 do you mean } " 
 
 Lewis laughed expressively, and replied, " We 
 lovers, Mr. Russell, are quick sighted." 
 
 " I had thought till now," rejoined his friend, 
 " that Love was blind." 
 
290 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " Yes, to the faults of his mistress,"" said Lewis, 
 still laughing, " but lovers, like free-masons, have 
 a wonderful knack of finding out each other." 
 
 They walked on in silence ; till Mr. Russell re- 
 sumed, with " But, Pennington, I wish you would 
 tell me what you alluded to just now — Supplant 
 me! — What could you be thinking of?" 
 
 " x4ha ! that sankles, does it ? " said Lewis. 
 " My meaning was full plain, I think." 
 
 " Obscure enough for a dull fellow like me to 
 miss it," said Mr. Russell, rather uneasily. 
 " Where I have advanced no pretensions, I do 
 not see how I can well be supplanted." 
 
 " Is not my cousin Hannah," inquired Lewis 
 with a smile, " almost as charming as her sister.?" 
 
 " Ahem ! " responded ]Mr. Russell, — " ' And is 
 not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of du- 
 rance ? ' " 
 
 " Very good, Russell ! I take ! " laughed Le^vis. 
 " You are very sly and very silent, and I am just 
 the reverse of both ; but take heed, I advise you — • 
 fair and softly do not always win the day." 
 
 Lewis found a letter from Marianne awaiting 
 him at the vicarage. At the head of the sheet was 
 written in Dr. Pennington's large, firm hand — 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 291 
 
 * Dear Son, 
 ' What are you doing at Summerfield ? ' 
 
 " I believe " said Lewis, as he read this laconic 
 inquuy to his friend, " my truest answer would 
 be— 
 
 ' Dear Father, 
 
 ' Playing the fool!'" 
 
 " Do you think, Lewis, your father would be 
 perfectly satisfied at your engaging yourself to 
 RosinaWellford?" 
 
 " I don't know," said Lewis gloomily. " Yes, 
 I think he would. He is not mercenary. Once, 
 when I used to flirt a good deal with a Miss 
 Edgar, an heiress, he said, ' I would rather be 
 pleased with my daughter-in-law's disposition 
 than her fortune.' " 
 
 " If you have any doubts, Lewis, now is the 
 time for acting with decision, and tearing yourself 
 from Rosina while her affections are apparently 
 her own. I have not spoken so plainly before, 
 because you never treated me with sufficient con- 
 fidence to excuse my doing so. You will attri- 
 bute my straight-forwardness to the right motive, for 
 I need hardly say, that the loss of such a guest as 
 
 o2 
 
292 VILLAGE BELLES 
 
 you are, will be excessively regretted by me, come 
 when it may." 
 
 " I must not linger here much longer," sighed 
 Lewis, twisting Marianne's letter into a thousand 
 shapes ; " September has come, and I am just 
 where I was in August, only some fathoms deeper 
 in love." 
 
 Here the dialogue ended. 
 
 Ilosina awoke on Tuesday morning, to a con- 
 sciousness of all the miseries of a severe cold. 
 Among her most praiseworthy habits was that of 
 rising early, like Dryden's Emilia, '' to sport and 
 trip along in cool of day;" and even indisposition 
 could not incline her to feel a day spent in bed in 
 any other light than that of a penance. Her mind 
 was quite on the alert ; and the sound of voices in 
 the parlour beneath, soon after breakfast, increased 
 her mortification at being kept in dormitorial con- 
 Unement. 
 
 " What has kept you so long ?" cried she, ra- 
 ther impatiently, as her sister re-entered her bed- 
 room. " Did not I hear voices down stairs ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Huntley called ; and I had to tell 
 him of your indisposition as an excuse for our not 
 sitting to him to-day." 
 
VILLAGE BELLES, 293 
 
 " It was very kind of you," said Rosina, " to 
 sacrifice yourself for me." 
 
 *^ Sacrifice myself," repeated Hannah, laughing. 
 " That is certainly rather a strong expression. I 
 do not feel it to be any sacrifice." 
 
 " I anl afi-aid I should, in your place," said Ro- 
 sina. 
 
 " I shall enjoy myself much more," said Han- 
 nah, " sitting by your bed-side and talking over 
 all that happened yesterday, than in sitting for 
 my likeness to Mr. Huntley. Dear Lewis' Pen- 
 nington ! I shall love him as long as I live. How 
 heroically he behaved !" 
 
 " So he did, certainly," said Rosina, — " and 
 yet the water was not very deep." 
 
 ^' That was not Lewis's fault," returned Hannah, 
 gaily, " and it was quite deep enough to drown 
 you, if he had not sprung to your assistance. No 
 body else in the boat would have acted with such 
 promptitude ; unless indeed, Mr^ Russell — " 
 
 ^' Oh, Hannah ! no man would stand by and see 
 a woman drown ! especially in the presence of 
 ladies—" 
 
 " Well, perhaps not," replied Hannah, " but 
 there are different ways of setting about a thing. 
 
294 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Mr. Pakenham would have stopped to fold up his 
 coat and waistcoat." 
 
 " My dear, you cannot conceive what a dread I 
 have of that man ! did not he frighten you exceed- 
 ingly ?" 
 
 " Not in the least," said Hannah. " His wit 
 amused me, and I felt myself far too insignificant 
 a person to attract his ill-nature. No gentleman 
 Would dare to ridicule a lady to her face ; and as 
 to what he might say of me in my absence, I shall 
 probably never see him again, therefore it does not 
 give me the slightest concern." 
 
 " How tranquil you are !" said Rosina, with a 
 sigh. " I wish I had half as much philosophy." 
 
 " The worst he could say of us," pm'sued Han- 
 nah, " would be that we were country girls with- 
 out wit or fashion, and where Vv^ould be the mighty 
 harm in that ?" 
 
 " They say," resumed Rosina, after a pause, 
 " that there is but one step between the sublime 
 and the ridiculous. Now, in a romance, it seems 
 Very grand for a lady to fall into a river, and for a 
 gentleman to bring her out again ; but when it 
 comes to be plain matter of fact, there are many 
 little things which a novelist takes care to leave out, 
 
VILLAGE EELLES. 295 
 
 and which, I am afraid, give the whole business 
 rather a ridiculous air." 
 
 " If that is the case," said Hannah, " eveiy one 
 was too much alarmed to notice it. Mrs. Shivers 
 was as pale as death, and Mr. Russell and Mr. 
 Pakenham rowed as if their lives depended on 
 every stroke. I thought I never saw any one look 
 more noble than Lewis did when he came up to 
 you ! — flushed with exertion, and glowing with 
 courage and affection and every honest feeling." 
 
 " I hardly dare ask you how / looked," said 
 Kosina, wistfully, 
 
 " Why, certainly," said Hannah, smiling, " I 
 have seeu you to more advantage. When you 
 first appeared from the "water, you were clinging 
 fast to Lewis's neck, and glad enough I was to 
 see you ; but when we landed, you were standing 
 with your back to him, looking very red and 
 very sulky, your frock covered to your knees with 
 mud, your hair di-enched, your bonnet out of 
 shape ; and in short, if Mr. Pakenham had been 
 inclined to laugh ." 
 
 " Oh, horrible ! I see myself exactly," cried 
 Rosina,, tossing on her pillow ; " do not go on, for 
 pity's sake ! " 
 
296 VILLAGE BELLBfi. 
 
 " Do you know," pursued Hannah, " I thought 
 you behaved rather unkindly to your preserver — " 
 
 " My preserver ! pshaw ! when the water was 
 not four feet deep ! " 
 
 " Well then, to poor Lewis. I can make al- 
 lowance for all awkwardness of feeling; but still, 
 instead of looking as if he had done you an injury 
 rather than a service, I should, in your place, have 
 tlianked him gratefully, and there would have 
 been an end of it." 
 
 " My dear Hannah, you always do no more 
 than just the thing you ought. I could not trust 
 myself to speak a syllable, so afraid was I of that 
 odious Mr. Pakenham." 
 
 " Still, ridicule, Rosina } " said Hannah. " What 
 a pity it is you allow yourself to be so much go- 
 verned by so weak a fear ! " 
 
 " Oh, Hannah ! I am too unwell to bear ser- 
 monizing to-day T)o fetch a book, there is a dear 
 girl, and rear :^, for I have thought enough 
 
 of these cross ac^^^cients all night." 
 
 Hannah complied with her wish ; and was de- 
 bating what book she should take up to her sister, 
 when she was again detained by a visitor. It was 
 Lewis Pennington. 
 
VILLAGE BELLEf5. 207 
 
 "Good morning, Hannah," said he. " How arc 
 you all, this morning ? and especially, how is Ro- 
 sina after her accident ? " 
 
 " I am Sony to say she is confined to her bed," 
 replied Hannah. 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Lewis, with a look of 
 alarm. 
 
 " But there is no need for apprehension," she 
 continued. " Rosina takes a fit of illness as she 
 does a fit of anything else; anger, for instance; it 
 comes on very suddenly, and goes off almost as 
 rapidly." 
 
 " A fit of anger," repeated Lewis, smiling. 
 " What a good-humoured sister you are, Hannah ! 
 But should not Rosina have advice ? " 
 
 " Oh, mamma knows perfectly well how to treat 
 Rosina's colds. We may be thankful that she has 
 escaped with nothing worse*" 
 
 " We may indeed," said I ' ; .. : 
 
 " And I hope you will no ^r your heroic 
 
 condtict," added she. " We sliall never forget it." 
 
 " Heroic ! you will make me ashamed of my^ 
 self," cried Lewis. " The wat^r was scarcely 
 breast-high." 
 
 " True ; but as we were observing just before 
 
 03 
 
298 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 you came, you did not pause to consider its depth. 
 Yours was the action of a moment." 
 
 " Did Rosina say so ? " asked Lewis, quickly. 
 
 " I think," said the truth-telhng Hannah, " the 
 observation was mine, and that it was Rosina who 
 assented to it." 
 
 At any rate, thought Lewis, complacently, they 
 hatve made the affair the subject of conversation. 
 " My dear Hannah," said he, drawing his chair 
 closer to hers, " to deal frankly with you who 
 have so much sincerity yourself, I was rather sur- 
 prised — Come, I must speak the truth — rather 
 hurt, at Rosina's conduct yesterday. As to thanking 
 me, or anything of the sort, that would have been 
 nonsense ; but without setting any inordinate 
 ■value on the little service I was able to render her, 
 Surely a wet jacket deserved a smile — hey, Han- 
 nah ? — a word or a look ? She would have given 
 as much as that, would not she, to Mr. Huntley, 
 if he had offered her an umbrella on a rainy day." 
 
 " Oh, Lewis ! " said Hannah, smiling, " you 
 must not be hard upon Rosina. You know her 
 chief, almost her only fault, is being too keenly 
 alive to ridicule. That satirical Mr. Pakenham, 
 Ivith his story of the fat old lady, so alarmed her 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 299 
 
 imagination, that she scarcely dared to look or 
 speak, for fear of exposing herself to his irony." 
 
 " Was that all ? " cried Lewis. " Insolent puppy ! 
 If he had dared to utter, or even look irony at 
 such a moment as that, I would have knocked him 
 down ! " And starting up, Lewis walked towards 
 the window, and bent through the open casement, 
 apparently occupied in inhaling the perfiime of 
 sweet peas and mignionette, which it admitted. 
 After a pause of some length, he exclaimed, 
 " What a sweet place this Summerfield is ! I envy 
 Russell the power of remaining in it." 
 
 " You would hardly wish, however, to change 
 situations with him, I should think." 
 
 " As to that, nobody, you know, would like to 
 give up their identity-; but distinct from such a 
 feeling, why do you think 1 should not be happy 
 to change with Mr. Russell } " 
 
 " He has a limited income, a small establishment, 
 uo wife or near relations, little congenial society, 
 and a variety of duties which he must regularly 
 perform, willing or unwilling." 
 
 " Still, Hannah, he is contented, and might be 
 happy, if he would but many " 
 
300 Village belles. 
 
 " Perhaps he thinks he is not rich enough." 
 
 " He has more than he can spend as a single 
 man, except in charity. An uncle left him four 
 or five thousand pounds last year." 
 
 " I suppose, then, he prefers a single life." 
 
 " Why, we must think so, for want of a better 
 supposition, and yet no one is more able to appre- 
 ciate really good female society. Perhaps, how- 
 ever, he is a despised man, or has reason to think 
 that he should be one." 
 
 " I can hardly think that." 
 
 Lewis looked at her earnestly. There was no 
 covert meaning to be detected in her face. Meet- 
 ting his eyes, however, and perceiving their pene- 
 trating expression, Hannah slightly blushed, at 
 the idea of having possibly said too much. Mrs. 
 Wellford entered at the same moment, followed 
 by Matthew, who shook Lewis heartily by the 
 hand. 
 
 " Pennington, you are a fine fellow!" said he. 
 " My mother tells me you have saved Rosina from 
 drowning." 
 
 Lewis made light of the affair. 
 
 " Well," said Matthew " T am glad you seem 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 301 
 
 none the worse for it ; but Rosina is in bed, I 
 hear. Shall I step up to her, mother.? I will 
 bleed her, if you like." 
 
 Mrs. Wellford did not consider this measure 
 advisable, and Hannah prepiired to return to Ro- 
 sina, now that her mother and brother could sup- 
 ply her place in the parlour. " Tell her, Hannah," 
 cried Matthew, calHng after her as she went up 
 stairs, " that if she likes to be bled, I'm no 
 bungler. I opened a vein for Mrs. Hinckley yes- 
 terday, therefore Rosina need not laugh at me. 
 I've practised upon the poor this twelvemonth ! " 
 
302 VILLAGE 3ELLES. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ALL IN THE WRONG. 
 
 RosiNA was SO much better, the next day, as to 
 be able to leave her bed, though her mother still 
 imprisoned her to her room. Her books and 
 drawing materials, and Hannah's society, left her 
 little to complain of; and a little rose-coloured 
 note of inquiry from Miss Pakenham, assisted in 
 raising her spirits. Voices in the parlour beneath 
 again provoked her curiosity; and while she was 
 debating whether the tones were those of Mr. 
 Huntley or Lewis Pennington, Hannah made her 
 appearance. 
 
 " Mr. Huntley and Miss Phcebe Holland are 
 down stairs," said she. 
 
 " Mr. Huntley and Phoebe Holland ! " repeated 
 Rosina. " What ! did they come together .'' " 
 
 " I believe they fell in with each other in the 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 303 
 
 lane. Miss Pha3be came to ask us to accompany 
 them on a gipsy party to-morrow. The Misses 
 Browns are staying at the Grange, and the Goods 
 are going to join them in a pic-nic." 
 
 " I suppose mamma will say I am not well 
 enough," observ'ed Rosina. " Is any one else to 
 be of the party ?" 
 
 " Mr. Russell and Lewis Pennington ; and now, 
 Phoebe has given a sort of joking invitation to Mr. 
 Hunaey." 
 
 " I should like to go, amazingly. Will mamma 
 let me, do you think? I am sure I am well 
 enough." 
 
 " Mamma at first refused outright ; but so much 
 was said about it, that knowing how quickly your 
 colds pass off, she began to waver, and sent me 
 up stairs to ask what you yourself thought about 
 it." 
 
 " The woman that deliberates is lost !" cried 
 Rosina, joyfully. " Since mamma wavers, you 
 may be sure she will let me go. My dear, tell her 
 I never felt better in my life." 
 
 " But, Rosina— " 
 
 " But, Hannah ! say no more about it ; I assure 
 you it is the fact. There was not the least occa- 
 
304 VILLAGE BELLES; 
 
 sion for my remaining up stairs to-day. Feel my 
 hands ; are they feverish ? I am perfectly weiL" 
 
 " I hope you are," said Hannah, slowly re- 
 tiring. 
 
 " Depend upon it, my dear. Make haste and 
 tell mamma I hope she will accept the invitation 
 by all means." 
 
 Rosina's spirits prevented her shewing any 
 signs of indisposition during the remainder of 
 the day. Lewis called, but only saw Mrs. Well- 
 ford. On the following morning, Rosina actually 
 fait quite well; but now an unforeseen obstacle 
 to the gipsy party presented itself. Mrs. 
 Wellford arose with a very bad headache, which 
 completely disinclined her to join the pic-nic. 
 The girls immediately gave up every idea of 
 leaving her, but though they said nothing of 
 their disappointment, their mother was vexed to 
 occasion it, and proposed tlieir accompanying 
 Mr. and Mrs. Good. She required no nursing;- 
 nothing but darkness and quiet ; and after a little 
 good-natured altercation, Hannah yielded, more 
 for Rosina's sake than her own. Accordingly, at 
 about one o'clock, to Mr. Good's they proceeded ; 
 and found Tom, William, and Fanny, who were 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 305 
 
 to be of the party, scampering up and down stairs 
 in high spirits. Matthew ran in from the surgery, 
 to have a kiss from his sisters and ten minutes' 
 gossip. He coukl not be spared to accompany 
 them ; he was going over to ' old Kippis of the 
 Grove ; ' and seemed so happy in his growing im- 
 portance as to have httle room for regret. He 
 told Rosina she looked feverish, wished Hannah 
 would wear smarter looking bonnets, but allowed 
 that as times went, neither of the girls were ugly ; 
 after which, with another kiss from each, he ran 
 away. Mrs. Good, in a new bonnet, was packing 
 up cold chicken, tongue, and apple puffs ; and 
 presently her husband drove up to the door, after 
 going his moniing rounds ; Matthew jumped into 
 the gig, received his parting instructions for the 
 Grove, and went off. Mr. Good was glad to find 
 every one and every thing ready to the appointed 
 minute, and the walking party proceeded to the 
 Grange. Here they found tongues clattering, pro- 
 visions packing, and silk bonnets popping in and 
 out of rooms and closets with prodigious rapidity. 
 The Miss Browns were old acqaintance; and 
 they seemed more voluble and more finely dressed 
 than ever. The want of punctuality in ' the beaux' 
 
306 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 was grievously regretted, Lewis at length made 
 his appearance, but had to apologize for the non- 
 attendance of Mr. Russell. He had not seen Ro- 
 «ina since the day at the Pleasance; and having 
 hunied through his excuses as speedily as pos- 
 sible, he approached her to hope that she had 
 entirely recovered from her cold. Rosina blushed, 
 and attempted to faulter her tardy thanks, but be- 
 came embaiTassed, and was glad that he inter- 
 rupted her with inquiries after her mother. Mr. 
 Huntley had made his entree immediately after 
 Lewis; and he no sooner perceived Rosina than 
 his dark eyes brightened, and he hastened to con- 
 gi'atulate her on her recovery. 
 
 " Your accident was truly alarming," said he. 
 " How fortunate it was that Mr, Pennington acted 
 with such courage and promptitude ! No man 
 ought to have done less, but few men have an 
 opportunity afforded them of doing so much ; and 
 you will pardon me, I think, for being thankful 
 that such is the case. I would hardly wish you a 
 second fall into the water, even that I might be 
 at hand to jump in after you." 
 
 Rosina smiled, and looking towards Lewis, who 
 was within hearing, saw him shrug his shoulders 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 307 
 
 and curl his lip. In another moment, he was at 
 her side, and had drawn her arm, with a smile, 
 within his own. The party were starting; and 
 Rosina, though she heaixl Huntley still making the 
 accident the subject of his discourse to Hannah, 
 felt that she ought not to complain of her fate. 
 
 The point of destination was a favourite spot on 
 Heeley Common, which the Miss Browns, who 
 loved to " set something going," had discovered on 
 the preceding Sunday to be a famous place for a 
 dinner. The donkey chaise was in requisition for 
 the children, as well as for the transportation of 
 camp-stools, shawls, and umbrellas ; and the walk- 
 ers proceeded in sociable little knots of two and 
 three, as it suited their pleasure. Huntley, to 
 his mortification, was entangled among the Miss 
 Browns and Miss Hollands, beyond the power of 
 escape or rescue ; Hannah followed Mr. and Mrs. 
 Good, and Lewis and Rosina, a few paces in arrear, 
 occasionally joined them in conversation, till, quit- 
 ting the fields, they entered a kind of little thicket, 
 iutersected by many small paths. Here they gra- 
 dually separated beyond speaking distance, and 
 finally lost sight of each other. 
 
808 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Lewis seemed unlike his usual self, plunged in 
 reverie, and speaking in monosyllables. After 
 walking tete-a-tete with Rosina for some time, he 
 became suddenly aware that a silence of awkward 
 length required to be broken ; but, like the ghosts 
 of yore, he seemed obliged to wait till she should 
 speak first. This she presently did, with a very 
 simple inquiry. 
 
 " Have you heard from home lately f " 
 
 " Yes, the night before last. My father asks 
 me, Rosina, — what I do at Summerfield." 
 
 " You must tell him then," said Rosina, forcing 
 a laugh, " that you save young ladies from drown- 
 ing." 
 
 Lewis was silent ; and, with a slight degree of 
 confusion, she resumed. 
 
 " Lewis, I am afraid — Hannah thinks that I — 
 1—" 
 
 " That what, Rosina ? Of what are you afraid ? — 
 Not of me — You Jieed not be — " 
 
 " I was only going to say, that, after all that 
 happened at the Pleasance, when you acted so 
 bravely and so generously, I feared I must have 
 seemed unsrrateful — ^" 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 309 
 
 *' Not in the least, E,osina— " 
 
 " At any rate, I ought to have thanked you ; 
 which I do now, very gratefully." 
 
 " Pray, say no more about it ; I was but too 
 happy to be of any service." 
 
 " You are none the worse, I hope — " 
 
 ^' Not in the least. No, Rosina, I look back on 
 that day with more pleasure than pain." 
 
 <' That odious Mr. Pakenham— " 
 
 " Ah, Hannah told me that you. were dreadfully 
 afraid of him ; and that I might thank him for any 
 little unkindness which had appeared in your man- 
 ner. But, Rosina, why would you allow the ac- 
 quaintance of an hour to have more influence over 
 you than an old attached friend } Why are you so 
 sensitive to ridicule ? It is not for your happiness. 
 I hope," added he earnestly, " that you will forgive 
 me for being so plain-spoken." 
 
 There was an accent of tenderness in Lewis's 
 tone which disarmed anger. 
 
 " Certainly, Lewis," she replied. 
 
 " 1 have been very bold to say so much," pur- 
 sued Lewis, in a more hunied manner ; " but I 
 must take shelter under the wide privileges of a 
 (iousin." 
 
810 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 Rosina laughed ; and Lewis, encouraged by this, 
 added, " You know, cousins venture to tell each 
 other of their little faults sometimes." 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said Rosina, " and now you 
 are going to lecture me a little on mine, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 She was thinking of the Pleasance ; he was 
 thinking of Saturday ev^ening. 
 
 " If I dared," said he, emboldened by her smile, 
 " I certainly would. Come, I will extend the 
 same privilege to you : we will confess our sins 
 and grant mutual absolution. Now tell me. Rosy, 
 what spirit of mischief inspired you that night at 
 Mrs. Good's?" 
 
 " None, that T know of," replied she, laughing, 
 with a little pique. 
 
 " Nay, Rosina," said he, more seriously, " do 
 not feign forgetfulness or misapprehension. You 
 know you meant to vex me." 
 
 " Vex you !— by what .?" 
 
 " By almost every thing you looked, did, and 
 said." 
 
 " Really, Lewis, I do not know what right you 
 have to accuse me of such intentions." 
 
 " The right, perhaps, may admit of more dis- 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 311 
 
 pute than the intentions," said he ; " but you 
 know I am only using my cousinly privilege. We 
 agreed to grant each other absolution." 
 
 " / agreed to no such thing, and I think ideas 
 of cousinly privilege may extend too fai\" 
 
 " Well, Rosina, do not let us cavil about trifles. 
 Question my right, if you will ; but yield to that 
 honest candour which generally distinguishes you. 
 Say that you are sony you gave me pain, and the 
 affair shall be at rest for ever." 
 
 " Sony I gave you pain ! How came you to 
 take offence so easily ^ By the manner in which 
 you put the question, you would imply that of- 
 fence was meant. '" 
 
 " And surely it was so." 
 
 " Nonsense !" 
 
 " Remember your blush when I showed you 
 that passage of Madame de Genlis' ! " 
 
 " I blushed with displeasure. What right had 
 you to apply the passage to me ?" 
 
 " Never mind the riffht, Rosina. The passage 
 did apply. You know you were inflicting pain on 
 one who loved you." 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Rosina, colouring; and wish- 
 ing much to run away. 
 
812 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 " True enough," said Lewis, who thought that 
 now or never should be the moment. " For you 
 to -pretend to think that I care no more for you 
 than one cousin does for another, would be as ab- 
 surd as to say that the sun does not shine, or the 
 grass gi'ow ; you do know that I love you, though 
 how much it is impossible you should know. That 
 point requires no settling ; but it is a most im- 
 portant one for me to know whether you really 
 have any serious regard for me or not. No wo- 
 man can be a coquette who truly loves." 
 
 " Upon my w^ord, Mr. Pennington," said Ro- 
 sina, whose cheeks were blazing, " you are talking 
 very strangely." 
 
 " Tell me, Rosiua !" exclaimed he, stopping 
 short, and dropping the little switch with which 
 he had been very industriously threshing the 
 underwood — '" Tell me, Rosina," said he, taking 
 her hand, " that my love is not quite hopeless 
 — that you can return such honest affection as 
 muie." 
 
 " I cannot," said she, snatching away her hand, 
 and walking on quickly. 
 
 " Oh ! how have I been deceived ! " exclaimed 
 Lewis. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 313 
 
 " Not by me," said Rosina. " I never feigned 
 more than I felt." 
 
 " Ungrateful girl !" cried he. 
 
 " How ungrateful ? " said Rosina. " We were 
 playfellows in childhood, and, within the last 
 month, you have been kind enough to bestow 
 much attention upon me ; but that does not neces- 
 sarily oblige me to retm'n your ajQfection, does it ? 
 Nay, are our affections in our own power? I am 
 sure they are not." 
 
 Lewis accompanied her silently for some time ; 
 and then, as if to himself, rather than her, mur- 
 mured — 
 
 " Is all the counsel that we two have shared, 
 When we have chid the hasty-footed time 
 For parting us, — oh ! and is all forgot ?" 
 
 He looked earnestly at her. Rosina breathed 
 quickly, but made no answer. Then, with sud- 
 den passion, he exclaimed — " Detested Huntley ! 
 it is he who has stepped between us ! Mark 
 my words, Rosina. You think he loves you, but 
 bitterly will you rue the mistake at some future 
 day. He is wholly unworthy of you. You know 
 nothing of him ; and it is astonishing to me how 
 your mother and Mr. Russell could ever allow a 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
314 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 man of his description to obtain such a familiar 
 footing among you. He is playing a double part ; 
 and if I had a brother's right to call him to ac- 
 count, he should atone for his conduct, or — I 
 would blow his brains out ! " 
 
 " Lewis ! Lems ! this is dreadful ! " cried Ro- 
 sina, temfied at a threat which would highly have 
 amused Dr. Pennington. " I could not have be- 
 lieved you capable of such vindictive jealousy. 
 Not half an hour ago, Mr. Huntley was warmly 
 praising you, who speak of him so unjustly. Let 
 us say no more of this — the subject had better be 
 at rest between us." 
 
 Lewis moodily obeyed, and walked at her side 
 in perfect silence. At length, after full ten mi- 
 nutes' endurance, he exclaimed, " I can bear this 
 no longer! Rosina, 1 must leave you. After what 
 has passed, how can we, — or at least, how can I 
 speak, look, or move, in the presence of those 
 people, with tolerable composure ? You must 
 necessarily wish for my absence. The Goods and 
 your sister are resting on that stile at the foot of 
 the hill. Will you dispense with my escort for so 
 short a distance ? " 
 
 " Willingly, — gladly," said Rosina. 
 
VILLAGE BELLES. 315 
 
 " Farewell then," returned he hastily, " tell 
 them I have a headache, heartache, what you 
 will. To be forced to sit laughing and talking 
 nonsense among a set of thoughtless boisterous 
 people, when one's heart is full of bitterness, — in 
 the presence of a rival, too! — would be intoler- 
 able. Farewell." 
 
 She thought, at that moment, of the instant 
 when the waters had closed over her at Mrs. 
 Shivers's. 
 
 " Lewis ! " said she, faulteringly. 
 
 " Ha! — what, Rosina?" cried Lewis with 
 eagerness. 
 
 " I only wished to say that, if I have spoken 
 more unkindly than the occasion required, I hope 
 you will forgive me — and that I shall never forget 
 the day at the Pleasance — and — " 
 
 " And what?—" 
 
 " Pray, Lewis, say nothing to my mother of 
 what has passed." 
 
 " Is that all?" said he, with a look of disap- 
 pointment. " You may depend upon me. Fare- 
 well." 
 
 In a moment he was gone. Luckily there was 
 no water to put him in mind of making a short 
 
316 VILLAGE BELLES. 
 
 end to his woes as he walked home. The par- 
 tridges sprang whirring from beneath his feet as 
 he returned through the cornfields ; but no pleas- 
 ing associations with pointers and Joe Mantons 
 did they awaken in his gloomy mind. He reached 
 the vicarage, and shut himself up in his bed- 
 room. 
 
 As for the author of his misery, she waited 
 till his retreating footsteps could no longer be 
 heard ; and then, when all the weeping of Niobe 
 could not have brought him back, she biust into 
 tears. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 G. Wocdfall, Printer, Angel Court, bkinner Street, Lcndon. 
 
A