Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/threechances01sall 
 

 7/% 
 
 a.''. 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 , -A*'^ 
 
 \" 
 
THE 
 
 THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHORESS OF " THE EMR CAREW." 
 
 You must speak louder, my Master is deaf. 
 
 Shakspeak'e. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 65, CORNHILL. 
 
 1858. 
 
 [The Fught of Translation is Reserved.'^ 
 
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 vw 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Page 
 
 INTRODUCTORY - - - - - - 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 TREATING OF AN OLD-FASHIONED THEME - - - 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? - - - - - - 28 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 DAMON TO PYTHIAS - - - - - - 46 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TILBURINA IN Y.'HITE SATIN, TO HER CONFIDANTE IN DIMITY - 56 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 nine-and-twenty divets - *• * - - 68 
 
 chapter vii. 
 blind-man's-buff - - - - - - 82 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MOONSHINE - - - - - - -118 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE GRASP OF THE STATUE - - - - - 127 
 
iV CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Page 
 
 OPINIONS DIFFER - - - - - - 143 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE JUDGMENT OF THE EYE - - - - - 147 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 LA SONNAMBULA ----__ I57 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 THE INNER-LIFE AT THE MANOR-HOUSE - - - 178 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGINE - - - - - 191 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE DIVETS' PET LAMB - - - - . 203 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ?----- 233 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 THE SHEPHERDESS MAKES A FALSE MOVE, CAUSING HER ADVER- 
 SARY TO CASTLE HIS KING - _ _ _ 252 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 A LECTURE ON LOVE ------ 269 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 AU REVOIR !------_ 291 
 
THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 There are certain maladies incident to the human 
 frame, which have been always held available for the 
 pm-poses of authorship, and made the vehicle of a vast 
 amount of ingenious and poetical embellishment. In 
 their selection and treatment they afford an unerring 
 indication of the writers' individual tastes ; some labourins: 
 to produce strong and startling effects, and revelling 
 sternly in descriptions of mortal suffering, grappling 
 with plague and pestilence, the gun-shot wound, and 
 cholera in its ^^ bluest " stages : their fevers end usually 
 in delirium ; and, when they touch on actual insanity, it 
 is of that sort which leads direct to the strait-waistcoat 
 and the padded chamber. 
 
 Others again, more feminine in sex or style, are often 
 found working industriously with the milder elements 
 of physical evil ; their province it is to trace the progress 
 of diseases strictly decorous, such as may be safely 
 paraded in the best society, and can never offend the 
 gentle reader by hmTying him unawares into low com- 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
"Z THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 pany, or scenes of questionable excitement. Authors 
 of this stamp eschew the surgeon s knife as carefully as 
 a lamb would that of the butcher, and content them- 
 selves and their readers with following in the wake of 
 the family physician ; whether death or recovery is to 
 be their culminating point of interest, still they set the 
 sick-room in order, and smooth the pillow of their 
 patient, and tuck him up in bed with a grace and discre- 
 tion not to be surpassed by any damsel in high latitudes. 
 
 But, under whatever aspect these descriptions are in- 
 troduced, they are evidently written with peculiar zest ; 
 and hence it results that few symptoms of the favourite 
 malady are spared us — not one howl of the author's 
 mad hero, nor the weakest cough of the authoress's 
 consumptive one. Nor can it be denied that the writers 
 of either class find justification as well as reward for 
 their labours, in the favour with which these are gene- 
 rally received : no description seeming too minute for a 
 sympathizing public, no dialogue too laboured or too long. 
 
 Encouraged by these evidences of success, therefore, 
 I do not hesitate to follow in some measure the ex- 
 ample set before me by so many of my contemporaries ; 
 though conscious that the theme I am attempting to 
 illustrate is far from being popular with either writer 
 or reader. Excellently as it has been described in Dr. 
 Kitto's autobiography, and some years ago in the lively 
 fiction of Wilkie Collins, neither the force of truth in 
 the one case, nor the talent of the novelist in the other, 
 has yet succeeded in investing the subject of Deafness 
 with any great share of sentimental regard ; and while 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 tlie world mingles a sort of reverence with its pity for 
 the victim of Blindness, whose woes have been dwelt 
 upon in many a poem and pathetic page, those of the 
 sister malady remain comparatively uncelebrated and 
 
 unsung. 
 
 For an explanation of this seeming contradiction, it 
 may be supposed that, as the disadvantages of the deaf 
 refer chiefly to the intellect, they make a less direct 
 appeal to our sensibiUty than those which are at once 
 encountered and apprehended by the eye. With our 
 own sensual organ we perceive the discomforts of him 
 who is deprived of the great power of sight, but we can 
 estimate the loss of hearing only by an effort of the 
 imagination. 
 
 I cannot tell whether these reflections would have 
 occurred to me with equal force, had I never become 
 acquainted with the person whose adventures I am 
 undertaking to record ; but I think there were few who 
 could look upon Mr. Frere without entering, for his sake, 
 into a deeper consideration of the calamity which con- 
 stituted the great trial of his existence. 
 
 At the time I was first introduced to this gentleman, 
 his troubles had already overtaken him ; but I was told 
 what he had been before the bolt was launched which 
 had buried itself in his inmost heart — how perfect his 
 prosperity had seemed to be ! how rich he had been 
 in all the gifts of Mature, and all that the world has to 
 bestow! 
 
 Young, wealthy, and well-born, with a fine person, a 
 mind highly cultivated, and manners that captivated all 
 
4 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 who approached him, there seemed but one thing re- 
 quisite to his felicity on earth, and even this was granted 
 him, in the attachment of one of the loveliest and most 
 charming of women ; a few weeks only were wanting 
 to the period of his marriage with this lady, when 
 Mr, Frere was struck with a sudden and almost total 
 loss of hearing. 
 
 How greatly his affliction was heightened by the en- 
 gagement which he had regarded as the crowning-point 
 of his auspicious career, might be traced in many of the 
 letters written by him at this period ; and, as I am aware 
 that the contents of these must afford the best index of 
 his feelings, and form a fitter introduction to his history 
 than any dry detail that I could supply, I will here 
 subjoin that portion of his correspondence which occurred 
 while he was yet a stranger to me. These letters are 
 addressed to the Kev. Kichard Cranston, Mr. Frere's 
 most confidential friend, 
 
 " You reproach me with my unusual silence, and say 
 truly that, from the commencement of our intimacy until 
 now, so long an interruption has never occurred in a 
 correspondence almost feminine in its minuteness and 
 regularity. I would that I could attribute my seeming 
 negligence to any of the frivolous causes you allege for 
 it — but unhappily I have a more valid excuse. Far 
 otherwise has my time of late been occupied than at 
 balls or theatres — Splaying Strephon to the fairest of 
 Phillises ' — so runs your reading of the riddle ; or in 
 * choosing fiu'niture of the most approved modern- 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 5 
 
 antique, to trick out the rooms of tlie old house, and 
 form a fitting bower for my Beauty.' Oh, Cranston, 
 what a vision of happiness you bring before me in those 
 few words, and how unHke to it is the frightful reality ! 
 I wish — I cannot help wishing — that you were already 
 acquainted with what has befallen me ; it was this that 
 delayed my writing — the hope that, in the first instance, 
 you might hear of it from any one rather than myself, 
 so that you might be prepared for the wretched details I 
 have to give ; for I cannot tell from what weakness it 
 arises, but I can hardly overcome my repugnance to 
 entering upon the subject, even to you. It must be 
 told, however, and now the sooner the better. I suppose 
 the victims of every human calamity say the same ; but 
 it seems to me I could have borne with more firmness 
 the amount of my affliction had it been laid upon me in 
 any other possible form — the entire loss of fortune, for 
 instance, or the infliction of bodily torture, howe\er 
 hopeless and excruciating. Misfortunes such as these 
 seem tangible — they are evils to be wrestled with, and 
 manfully resisted ; there is sympathy in every honest 
 heart for the bold and energetic, who go forth to battle 
 with the world at large, with nothing beside their trust 
 in Heaven, and their own indomitable spirit to help 
 them. And then for all physical ills, why, the greater 
 the suffering of our mortal frame, so much the nearer 
 stands the Ano^el of Death beside the bed of torment. 
 Rebuke me not — not yet at least — for these repinings ; in 
 time I hope to be more resigned, but now I declare to 
 you I would rather be a leper than the thing I am 
 
b THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 become — better to be openly shunned and driven from 
 the haunts of men, than remain amongst them, the object 
 of their forced toleration and secret annoyance. 
 
 " Do you remember a conversation which occurred 
 (and a singular coincidence it was !) the very last time 
 we met in London, in which we were instituting a 
 comparison between the Blind and the Deaf ? !Most of 
 the company — (it was at the Torringtons, and the party 
 a large one) — were warmly advocating the loss of hearing 
 rather than sight ; the men especially were unanimous 
 in preferring any bereavement which left them freedom 
 of movement and action, to one which should render 
 them grateful for the guidance of even a child or a dog. 
 
 " I alone attempted to maintain an opposite opinion, 
 though sensible to a sort of shame in doing so ; for it 
 seemed almost like decrying that attribute of indepen- 
 dence which, amongst the very tamest and meekest of our 
 sex, is held to be something inestimable. But oh, 
 Kichard, in what a spirit of thoughtless levity, as I now 
 feel, did we discuss and illustrate a subject so infinitely 
 important to hundreds and thousands of the human race ! 
 You, I recollect, were particularly brilliant in the raillery 
 with which you assailed me ; for, in a mere trial of wit, 
 such as this dispute very soon became, it is always tlie 
 most intimate friend that hits you the hardest blow. 
 
 " But, though I might be silenced by numbers, my 
 opinion remained unshaken ; for it was a lifelong senti- 
 ment not to be affected by ridicule, or the trite arguments 
 of any that were assembled there. 
 
 " From my very childhood, I have entertained a horror 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 7 
 
 of deafness. To siicli a degree have I feared and loathed 
 it that I begin to apprehend there must have been sin 
 in the thought — the arrogance of a spirit pampered into 
 pride and impatience by a course of almost uninter- 
 rupted prosperity ; what else could have engendered this 
 morbid disgust at an infirmity to which so many better 
 than myself are subjected ? and, if so, it is a just sentence 
 which dooms me to bear the very burthen I abominated. 
 For, Cranston, it has fallen upon me in all its awful 
 weight — Deafness entire, and by human means pro- 
 nounced incurable ! 
 
 " From the earliest indication of the disorder I had a 
 full presentiment of what was eventually to be my lot ; 
 and it was to satisfy others rather than myself, and to 
 avoid the reproach of a senseless fatalism, that I sub- 
 mitted to the experiments of the surgeon and aurists, 
 and tried every means of relief. To you, my friend, I 
 may add that these efforts were accompanied by suppli- 
 cations for a higher assistance, such as those only who are 
 in fear of the frightfulest punishments can pour forth. 
 But utterly vain have been all endeavours to remove or 
 even lighten the curse. It clings to me, and will con- 
 tinue to do so to the end of existence. From henceforth 
 I am utterly cut off from holding free communion with 
 my fellow mortals. Never again, Kichard, shall I hear 
 your pleasant voice ! Never — never more will the sound 
 of lier's bless me with its enchanting melody ! 
 
 " I thought T had nerved myself to this recital, but can 
 carry it no further to-day. Having acquainted you with 
 the worst of my miserable story, I would indeed willingly 
 
8 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 stop liere, for it is a subject tliat affords little scope for 
 the egotism of letter-writing — it is a torment, and no in- 
 dulgence, to enter into the humiliating details ; but I 
 know you would not rest contented with a cursory notice 
 of what affects me so nearly. 
 
 " For yoUj then, my best and truest friend — my trustiest 
 confident, my wisest counsellor — for your sake I will rouse 
 myself from the apathy of despair, and recount what 
 happened to me from the moment I was struck, from 
 the time when I walked as an equal amongst my fellow- 
 creatures until this hour of blank annihilation. Bear 
 with me, Cranston, if I appear to feel my infliction too 
 acutely, and, till to-morrow, farewell. — Ever yours, 
 
 " Manley Frere." 
 
 ITttter ^rconi). 
 
 " And now, my dearest Cranston, I begin writing in a 
 fitter frame of mind than when I despatched my letter 
 of yesterday. Shall I tell you why I am strengthened 
 for the task ? for it is not altogether because my senses 
 are invigorated by a night's rest, though repose has 
 doubtless its renovating influence even on me. But the 
 truth is, that as yet my dreams partake more of the past 
 than the present. In sleep I seem still to hear ; and so 
 from the moment of my waking, till that which forces 
 me into contact with others, the blessed impression con- 
 tinues to predominate ; and though I know it all the 
 while to be a delusion, yet, weak as I am, the falsehood 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 9 
 
 soothes and cheers me ! Even this poor comfort must 
 soon be over : my very dreams will partake of my real 
 condition, and I shall see the visionary things of night 
 gliding like noiseless phantoms about my path : even in 
 sleep I shall be vainly watching the motion of their lips, 
 or the progress made by their pen, as it travels over the 
 cold insensible paper, which is destined henceforth to 
 constitute my best and quickest mode of communicatino* 
 with the minds around me. And so the sweet slumber 
 which is coveted and prized by all other unfortunates, 
 will ere long become embittered to me. Better, then, to 
 be Kehama's victim, who never slept at all ! 
 
 " You will ask me where is the firmer spirit in which 
 I professed to resume the narrative of what has befallen 
 me ? Let me, before I proceed with it, assure you that the 
 effeminate complaints I suffer myself to pour out in the 
 interchange of our unreserved confidence, are strictly con- 
 fined to yourself Once, and but once besides, have I 
 given utterance to the agony of my afiiiction— you may 
 well guess to whom that letter was addressed. After- 
 wards my conscience smote me for having racked her 
 feelings by dwelling too forcibly on my own ; but it 
 would surely have been something monstrous and 
 unnatural to have affected the least shadow of conceal- 
 ment from one who was to have been my second self; and 
 in fact, knowing the depth of my affection for her, 
 would she have been deceived by any false and laboured 
 expressions of resignation ? Besides, though at present 
 our sorrows seem almost equally shared, she may and 
 must recover : it is not in the nature of thino-s that her 
 
IG THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 regret should continue unmitigated ; for me there is no 
 relief ! Therefore it was that, in the selfishness of my 
 despair, I indulged myself in this cruel solace ; and all 
 the while I was taking a wretched sort of satisfaction in 
 aggravating her grief, I secretly writhed under the 
 conviction that that grief must one day cease. I knew 
 I was acting a fiendish part, yet still persisted, alleging 
 that it was the first and only time in the course of our 
 engagement that I could charge myself with having 
 given her voluntarily one uneasy moment. They say 
 my letter half killed her ; for up to that time she had 
 cherished hopes of my recovery. Yet even then I could 
 not repent having sent it. I suppose from that my 
 nature is brutalized already. Heaven knows what 
 strange anomalous thing I am destined to become ; for, 
 while I feel not the smallest temptation to amuse the 
 world at large with the history of my sufferings, or to 
 babble of them to the lukewarm and indifferent, what 
 am I doing but seeking to harrow the hearts of the two 
 beings I hold dearest in all the world — Barbara and 
 you ? If I spared not Jier, I am little likely to respect 
 your feelings ; so, if you are to have my story, you must 
 even take it with all its saddest additions. 
 
 " It was but a few days after that conversation at the 
 Torringtons, that I grew sensible of a slight difficulty of 
 hearing ; but I imputed it to a cold, and took little heed 
 to the symptoms. Not even when these became mani- 
 fested more decidedly, and the low murmuring in my 
 ears, which pursued me night and day, swelled to a rush- 
 ing noise, which one might liken to the waves of some 
 
INTRODUCTOEY. 11 
 
 mighty ocean afar off, foaming, and chafing, and gaining 
 by degrees on some frail object which it was fated to over- 
 whelm and utterly destroy ; but I could not remain much 
 longer ignorant of what was brooding over me. I awoke 
 one morning without these distressing noises, and, 
 pleased with the sudden relief, I lay for a minute or two in 
 luxurious enjoyment of my calm condition. But it was 
 time to arise, and I looked at my watch. It pointed to 
 the hour of rising, but I said to myself it must be later 
 still, for the watch had evidently stopped : it ticked no 
 longer — twice I put it to my ear, and lo ! the thing was 
 dumb. Fool that I was ! I remember now feeling a 
 sort of pity for the old companion which up till then had 
 served me so faithfully, and which I concluded to be at 
 last wearing out. 
 
 " What could I do better at that early hour, the herald 
 of a busy day approaching, than meditate on the first 
 incident it had brought me in its progress—try what 
 could be made of even so trivial a subject, and ' improve 
 the occasion,' as they say in the language of cant ? So I 
 thought how often I had consulted those bright little 
 hands, in joy and in sorrow, in hope or anxiety — some- 
 times wondering to see how fast the minutes were flying ; 
 at others, chiding them that they went no faster ; and 
 many a light and laughing fancy twined in and out 
 amongst thoughts of a graver and more solemn 
 character. 
 
 " Then, remembering that this watch had been my 
 father's gift, I resolved that, though I must have a new 
 one, I never would part with the old. It should be stored 
 
12 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 with many another memorial of his affection for his 
 only child, and be carefully put by. Some day hence, 
 perhaps (for thus high grew my presumption), it might be 
 brought out to shew to some round-faced, ringleted 
 cherub, sitting on my knee, and he or she be told that 
 that had been ^ dear grandpapa's own watch/ and many 
 a little story of him be related, such as might suit their 
 young intellect, and interest their feelings. And thus 
 would I cause the memory of the good old man to be 
 hallowed in the hearts of his innocent descendants. 
 How long these fancies engaged me I hardly know ; but, 
 when I looked at the watch again, the time was altered, 
 the hands had moved some degrees forward upon the 
 dial — ^ I had condemned my old friend, then, too soon ; 
 it must be going still.' Once more I listened for its 
 voice, but listened all in vain ; and then the truth 
 burst upon me at once — I was deaf — utterly deaf ! 
 
 " I have told you that, from the time my infirmity 
 became apparent, I lost all hope — yet it was not alto- 
 gether so. I did indeed fall back upon my pillow con- 
 ^ .founded, as I well might be — lost in the intensity of my 
 horror ; but then I started up, refusing to believe the 
 fact, and wildly repeating every experiment that might 
 belie it — though the failure of each impelled me to the 
 verge of desperation. I seized a chair and flung it vio- 
 lently on the floor; it fell as if on velvet. I clapped my 
 hands — I spoke — I shouted. A strange vibration ac- 
 companied my actions, but neither word nor cry was 
 audible. As hope forsook me, I grew more earnest for 
 the full conviction which was to rob me of every human 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 13 
 
 solace. I flew to the window, pushed back its creaking 
 lattice (it creaked no longer now !) — the mornino- was 
 bright and beautiful, but its silence seemed that of the 
 tomb. The gardener was rolling the gravel under my 
 window, and another man who mowed the lawn was whet- 
 ting his scythe ; but they seemed to work on in dumb 
 shew, not one dear sound of rural life reached me where I 
 stood. The birds I had been used to feed from that 
 window came fluttering about it— I knew they must be 
 chirping as usual ; and further off, on a bough of the old 
 pear-tree, there sat the thrush for whose mornins" sono- 1 
 had often left the lattice open, that it might be the first 
 thing I should hear. I watched now with straining eyes 
 the motion of his open bill and quivering throat, but the 
 delicious notes with which I saw he greeted me were 
 never more to rejoice my benumbed senses. 
 
 " I spare you any minute account of what followed 
 this fearful discovery— how, though not without effort, I 
 mixed with the family (it was at the Fieldings I was 
 staying), and had to encounter their wonder and mute 
 questioning, for so it seemed to me — their pity and 
 advice ; seeing them moving about more like the figures 
 of a magic lantern than creatures of flesh and blood. 
 The only course to be taken was to set off immediately 
 to London for surgical advice ; but, though I was eager 
 for change, wherever I went the same unbroken silence 
 still of course prevailed, to shock me with its unnatural 
 strangeness. For be assured that, as long as we are 
 blessed with the power of hearing, how profound soever 
 our sense of solitude and silence may seem to be, it is a 
 
14 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 perception totally distinct from that which encompasses 
 the deaf. Not a sound may seem to you to penetrate 
 your darkened chamber — the wind may be hushed 
 without — the crackling fire be quenched upon your 
 hearth ; yet the mere movement of your finger, the very 
 emission of your breath, is enough to draw the broad line 
 of separation between your case and mine — a distinction 
 as complete as that which exists between the sleeper and 
 the dead. 
 
 " I would gladly have made this journey alone ; but 
 the Fieldings, both John and William, insisted on 
 accompanying me. It was a trial wellnigh beyond my. 
 strength to have to play the part which propriety assigned 
 me — that of the calm, resigned, and even hopeful patient, 
 lending a courteous attention to signs and demonstra- 
 tions which could only be guessed at. I need not tell 
 you whose image mingled in every new phase of mj 
 wretchedness — trust me, Cranston, my regrets were never 
 wholly selfish. I knew the worst that could befall me ; 
 but Barbara, still ignorant and happy, what would be 
 her anguish when the news reached her ! I wish now 
 she had been with me at Dornton ; but the original 
 arrangement, which would have kept us together almost 
 till the wedding-day, had been, as I think you know, 
 prevented by her mother's sudden illness, which recalled 
 her to Norfolk a fortnight ago. Thus it was agreed we 
 were not to meet again till a few days before the cere- 
 mony. You see how calm I am become. I can write 
 this word with a regular pulse and a firm hand ; and 
 yet your own honourable nature must assure you, that 
 
INTFwODUCTORT. 15 
 
 when it was made certain that my recovery was hopeless, 
 and every surgeon of eminence had given up the case as 
 incurable^ I never for an instant contemplated exacting 
 from her the fulfilment of a contract formed under such 
 very different auspices. As long as there lingered a 
 shadow of hope, or one clever aurist remained uncon- 
 sulted, I would not suffer her to be told of what was 
 hanging over us. In this reserve I acknowledge myself 
 to have been wrong ; its outward excuse was an anxiety 
 to preserve my darling from what — if Heaven had 
 proved merciful to us — would have caused her but useless 
 alarm ; but, besides this, I am now conscious there was a 
 feeling on my part which ought never to have occurred 
 between us. Whatever I may experience with respect 
 to ordinary society, towards her — my true-hearted love — 
 I ought not to have harboured the false pride which 
 makes me — I confess it — ashamed of the kind of afflic- 
 tion with Avhich the Almighty in his infinite wisdom has 
 seen fit to chastise me. But so it was — I can perceive 
 it plainly now. Wonder at me — blame me if you will, 
 for I deserve your censure ; but my very soul revolted 
 from letting her know that the man she had honoured 
 with her choice, was deprived for life of one of the finest 
 faculties of his nature — that in sober truth I was no 
 longer the being she had chosen — that there was scarcely 
 one of her acquaintance who would not make her a more 
 fitting companion than the Manley Frere whose quick- 
 ness of intellect and facility of comprehending her softest 
 accent had, as I well knew, formed his chief merit in 
 her eyes. 
 
16 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 " Therefore it is tliat at certain seasons — and especially 
 when selfishness gets the upper hand — I half repent that 
 she was not earlier informed of this calamity : Had she 
 been at Dornton when it happened, and in constant 
 association with me, who knows in what liirht her 
 heavenly nature might not have induced her to regard 
 an event which, to common minds, must seem the de- 
 struction of all conjugal happiness ? But I must be 
 careful how I dwell on that idea, or allow myself to 
 contemplate such a sacrifice as her becoming my wife — 
 it must not, ought not to be ! The more acutely I feel 
 the disadvantages inseparable to my altered condition, 
 the firmer ought to be my determination to save her 
 from the misery of sharing them. Kichard, would it 
 not be barbarous to sacrifice the gay enjoyment of her 
 youth to the chilling void of such a companionship 
 as mine has now become ? Her bright intellect to be 
 wasted upon a wretch unable to seize the precious 
 thought as it fl.ows from her lips, who cannot even guess 
 it till it is forced upon his clouded faculties by signs 
 and written words, and to whom every lively and 
 pleasant fancy must be chilled and mangled before it 
 can be transmitted ? and this for Barbara, of all women, 
 who, quick and brilliant as she is herself, prizes beyond 
 every endowment that of a ready comprehension in 
 others. 
 
 '^ How many an evidence of this (wliich, but for my 
 altered circumstances, would have passed unregarded) 
 now rises to distract me, by evincing beyond a doubt 
 how little we are fitted to live together — her acute per- 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 17 
 
 ception of any thing like dulness in those who conversed 
 with her ; her horror of the Grants and the Flemings, 
 and the whole family at the Grove ; and her impatience 
 of poor Erskine, who never can be made to comprehend 
 a joke till every body else has grown tired of it — in short, 
 her studied avoidance of a ' bore ' in any shape ! I have 
 often heard her mother blame her for what she called 
 her too fastidious taste, and rightly perhaps did she 
 name it. While I, presumptuous wretch ! upheld the 
 uncharitable doctrine, and employed all my sophistry 
 in her defence, to prove that 'like should dwell with 
 like,' and that it was best, for so I argued (and though 
 it passed for a jest, and a playful exaggeration, I fear 
 my stubborn heart dictated the unfeeling sentiment,) 
 it was better for the dull to herd together, than that 
 they should engross the time and attention of their 
 superiors in intelligence. Am I not justly punished for 
 all this ? But she, my sweet confederate — gentle and 
 kind in the midst of all her pretty satire — she must not 
 be made answerable for a few playful words, or be 
 doomed to pay the heavy penalty which a lifelong union 
 with me would ensure her. 
 
 " And yet, Cranston — for I will own all my weakness 
 to you — though convinced of the reasonableness of what 
 I have just written, and while I repeat it to myself con- 
 tinually, and add a hundred arguments for the propriety 
 of our separation, I am still selfish enough to shudder 
 at the prospect. I would not lift a finger to ratify the 
 engagement ; but you cannot conceive the dread with 
 which I look forward to its final rupture. I have, I 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
18 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 trust, not ill fulfilled the duty incumbent on me. I have 
 restored her freedom, the troth she plighted me in 
 happier hours ; and have laid before her, as honestly and 
 forcibly as possible, the reasons which justify her re- 
 nouncing me ; and now nothing remains but to await 
 her decision as resignedly as I can. But a wild thought 
 still crosses and tempts me — women are so self-denying, 
 and their love, if not so passionate as our's, is proverbially 
 so much more generous in its nature. What, if resisting 
 all the rational and worldly motives that may be urged, 
 she were to refuse to give me up, and persist in clinging 
 to this lost one — this ruin of a man ? Only to you, my 
 friend, would I breathe a whisper of this, yet it haunts 
 me like — no, not like my shadow — that cold undefined 
 thing which is trembling on the wall while every thing 
 about it is radiant with sunshine ; the hope, faint as it 
 is, floats around me like an angel of light ! I picture 
 her, in the boundless charity of her love, flying to my side 
 to console and reassure me, vowing that no mortal tribu- 
 lation shall suffice to tear us asunder. Ah, how different 
 would my lot then be from the dreary future over which 
 I am now shuddering ! I see her presiding in my home, 
 the dispenser of every consolation vouchsafed to me. I 
 see her moving about the house with her own unequalled 
 grace, her step as light as ever, her eyes as bright, and 
 those dear eyes still turning on me with unwearied affec- 
 tion. She sits at the head of my table, shedding joy and 
 gladness on the guests who are gathered round it, for 
 then I should not need the hermit-life I have been 
 planning ; it would be my pride to behold her filling, as 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 19 
 
 it were, the place of both of us, the promoter of every 
 hospitable duty and cheerful diversion. I, too, might sit 
 there unable to hear a word that was spoken, but no 
 churlish repining would then arise ; I should be satisfied 
 in the reflection of the happy faces assembled round 
 me, and the mortifications which now perpetually rufiie 
 my temper, and make me at the same time despise my- 
 self for being so moved, would little annoy me, so long 
 as I watched that beaming countenance, and saw in it 
 the blessed assurance that, with all my infirmities, I was 
 still her dearest — first consideration upon earth ! And 
 then, Cranston — to vary this picture of Love's own 
 sketching — my darling comes before me in a holier 
 character, as the dispenser of my charities, the enlightened 
 medium through which my half-benighted faculties 
 would be awakened and informed. Without this sweet 
 influence prevailing, I might, perhaps, grow suspicious 
 and unjust — always dreading to be imposed on, and mis- 
 trusting those who best deserved my confidence. Not 
 so if Barbara were there fulfilling each household duty 
 — the impartial mistress of my servants — the ready pro- 
 tectress of the oppressed — perhaps the mother as well as 
 the wife and mistress — leading my children, through the 
 strength of her own devotion, to cherish their half-help- 
 less father, till, imitating her sweet ways, they would 
 learn in their turn to communicate with me ; I might 
 never hear their innocent voices, but a smile, a touch 
 from those dear ones would suffice, and ere long we 
 might comprehend each other as quickl}^ and as well as 
 those who have each the full command of their senses. 
 
20 THE THKEE CHANCES. 
 
 " Am I wholly inexcusable in indulging such dreams as 
 these ? Before you can answer me, Cranston, the ques- 
 tion will be set at rest. This morning I expected to 
 have had her decision — to-morrow it must arrive. Still, 
 unaccustomed to this dreadful deprivation, I was silly 
 enough to listen for the postman's knock, as I had done 
 so often when expecting a letter from her. Then re- 
 membering that sight not sound was all I had henceforth 
 to trust to, I threw my window open and watched for 
 his approach, sickening with suspense as he passed be- 
 neath it ; for he did go by, and the reprieve rejoiced me ! 
 Another day at least was rescued from the certainty of 
 desolation. I might be disturbed with vain fancies, and 
 doubts that are akin to despair ; but what are the w^orst 
 of these compared to the extinction of every feeble hope 
 that now supports me ? 
 
 " If I have news to send you — good, blessed news — you 
 shall hear by the next post. Should no letter reach yon, 
 my dear Cranston, you must guess my fate ; I shall 
 have no heart to tell it." 
 
AN OLD-FASHIONED THEME. 21 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 TRKATING OF AX OLD-FASHIONED THEME. 
 
 The writer of this melancholy letter did not over- 
 estimate the intense interest with which it would be 
 read. Between Manley Frere and Richard Cranston 
 there subsisted a friendship of long standing, and no 
 ordinary character. The society of the wealthy and 
 well-born Frere had been sought by many a one 
 who, in outward circumstances, seemed as likely to 
 ensure a permanent regard as the companion of his 
 choice ; but while most of these school or college 
 acquaintanceships had dwindled to indifference, or been 
 extinguished altogether, the intimacy between these two 
 young men held on its steady course, warm and un- 
 changed ; absence only strengthened its growth — time 
 did but perfect it. 
 
 So secret and subtle are the influences which govern 
 all human partialities, that in our desire to assign an 
 appropriate reason for them, we are often driven to at- 
 tribute their apparent singularity to causes the most im- 
 probable and inefficient ; and such 1 take to be the vul- 
 gar assumption, so often repeated as an established fact, 
 that persons are mostly attracted to each other by a 
 
22 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 striking opposition in taste, opinion, or pursuit. In 
 many parts of their character such violent contrasts may 
 be observable ; yet it is not from any of these that the 
 friendship really springs, but from some point of simili- 
 tude which, being less open to observation, is lying un- 
 suspected. This hidden likeness it is, and no myste- 
 rious affinity of opposite sentiments, which seals the 
 bond of union, and constitutes the friend or the lover 
 for life. 
 
 And here I would say a word more on this hackneyed 
 theme of friendship ; not of the source from which it 
 emanates, for there I might meet universal contradic- 
 tion, but in celebration of its great worth and singu- 
 larity, a point whereupon the world mast surely be 
 agreed. There is something, then, so sacred in the name, 
 so noble in its abstract idea, and so tender in the images 
 of disinterested elevation which it calls up, that even the 
 sternest of us will be found to entertain a sort of indul- 
 gence for all old acquaintanceships, let their origin have 
 been what they may. We occasionally see men grow- 
 ing grey together in a course of daily intimacy, which 
 has really nothing in it which ought tJ engage our sym- 
 pathies, or command one sensation of ^respect, and yet 
 to a certain point our feelings go with them. 
 
 Look at those two money-getting old men, who are 
 tottering towards the grave together ; a strong suspicion 
 of roguery has clung to them all their lives, insomuch 
 that you feel pretty certain, as you pass them by the way- 
 side, that the ^chuckling whisper and asthmatic laugh 
 which accompanies their confidential chat, has reference 
 
AN OLD-FASHIONED THEME. 23 
 
 to some reminiscence of past days, illustrating tlie skill 
 with which, when they possessed strength and opportu- 
 nity for the feat, they contrived to overreach — perhaps 
 to ruin — their neighbour. 
 
 Such may be your impression as you regard them, and 
 still you find yourself looking with a kind of compla- 
 cency upon the old fellows, who have stuck so fast together 
 through the manifold vicissitudes of life, and involuntarily 
 give them credit for more virtue than they could ever 
 have laid claim to. 
 
 It must be for its rarity that we are led to respect 
 what in itself is so little estimable — the durability rather 
 than the nature of the fellowship ; for it is certain that, 
 when we observe two young men associating day by day, 
 their duality in idleness or vice excites no particular in- 
 terest or indulgence. But let these same good-for- 
 nothing men grow grey in each other's company, and 
 still be seen clinging together as brothers — based though 
 the attachment may be on some of the most exceptionable 
 features of their character — we allow it to pass as a 
 specimen of wdiat, for lack of a fitter terra, we are con- 
 strained to denominate "friendship." Fidelity in a 
 mongrel form, but still fidelity. Other men, as empty- 
 headed or unprincipled as themselves, have often joined 
 company with them, yet these two alone remain firm in 
 their alliance. 
 
 Ill enough does it speak for humanity in general, that 
 we should be found ready to welcome this principle of 
 f lithfulness even in its most degraded state, simply be- 
 cause it is so scarce a quality. For there can be no 
 
24 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 doubt, that if every old rogue of a merchant or stock- 
 jobber had a prototype constantly to bear him company, 
 and every hoary gambler and withered beau who lounges 
 up St. James's Street had an Achates of precisely the 
 same stamp inseparably linked to his side, we should 
 acquire but an increased aversion to each individual ; 
 but the virtue of stability being so uncommon, we seize 
 upon it, adulterated though it may be, to invest it with 
 a faint gilding, the far-off reflection of something divine, 
 and — as regardless of truth as consistency — give it the 
 desecrated name of " friendship," and salute it with some 
 portion of applause. 
 
 And if, in even this degraded form, the power which is 
 capable of assimilating two immortal souls engages 
 some reluctant sympathy, how should we not respect it 
 when it shines forth in the union of such men as Cran- 
 ston and Frere ! A friends! lip springing from congeni- 
 ality in all the highest qualities of humanity ; a brother- 
 hood not in idle pursuit, low craft, or grovelling 
 tendencies, but in all that can ennoble the heart of man, 
 in religious faith, in purity of life, intellectual cultiva- 
 tion, taste and feeling. 
 
 Such were the ties which bound these young men 
 together. The experience of a tenderer attachment on 
 the part of Mr. Frere, proved in no degree injurious to 
 their friendship ; the new connection tended rather to 
 confirm the old, by opening a fresh field for the exercise 
 of a perfect and unrestricted confidence. Cranston, 
 though not intimately acquainted w^ith her, thought 
 highly of the beauty and accomplishments of the lady 
 
AN OLD-FASHIONED THEME. 25 
 
 whom Frere had chosen, and was ready, in his capacity 
 of friend, to take on trust all the fine endowments of 
 heart and mind (and where was the limit to any of 
 them ?) which it pleased Manley Frere to attribute to 
 his beloved. 
 
 There were few things that vexed Mr. Cranston more 
 than the remarks which a somewhat worldly-minded 
 mother of his was continually repeating to him, on the 
 instability of young men's friendships, especially when a 
 marriage on either side intervened to widen and weaken 
 the circle of attachment. " It is all very well," she 
 would say, as she saw her son breaking the seal of some 
 letter of Frere's, full of his daily proceedings, his hopes, 
 anxieties, and anticipations of approaching happiness ; 
 " It is all mighty fine, Kichard ; but depend on it, my 
 dear, you two will never be half nor a quarter the cronies 
 you are now when once Manley Frere gets him a wife. 
 He may look out for a better living for you, and I trust 
 he will ; but as for these long-winded letters that pass 
 between you every two or three days (what you can find 
 to say to each other so often, it passes my poor wit to 
 imagine !) and all the wonderful regard he professes for 
 you just now, between ourselves, Dick, I would not 
 have you reckon on its lasting over the honeymoon, I 
 ^vould not indeed, my dear ! I never saw an instance to 
 the contrary, and you may have heard your poor father 
 say the same scores of times. No, no, Richard, directly 
 there's a Mrs. Frere in the case, away flies all the 
 husband's friendship for you ; and if I were in your 
 place, my dear, I would lose no time in giving a hint 
 
26 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 (and a pretty broad one, too) about that living of 
 Micklesliam-Basset. Only manage to get his promise 
 for that when it becomes vacant, in writing mind ; be 
 sure to have it down in black and white, Dick; and then 
 1 may allow that this schoolboy intimacy has done you 
 some service." 
 
 Her warm-hearted son, on the other hand, would in- 
 dignantly repel every suspicion of his friend's fidelity. 
 
 "I may not for the future be all that I have been to 
 him, changed as his position in life may be ; I neither 
 expect nor desire it. Frere must have employments and 
 duties when he settles down as a married man, which 
 must prevent his paying so much attention to me ; but 
 that there will ever be any diminution in our esteem or 
 confidence I never will believe." 
 
 " Well, well, we shall see how it will all turn out 
 some of these days. But take my advice about Mickle- 
 sham-Basset, that's all ; get his word for it, either under 
 his own sign-manual or before witnesses ; and then I 
 shall say there has been no great mischief done either 
 one way or the otlier. Why, what's the matter with 
 you now, I should like to know ?" 
 
 ^* Matter, ma'm I I cannot bear to hear you talk in this 
 mercenary manner!" and the dialogue would end by 
 the young man flinging out of the room to read his 
 friend's letter, in an atmosphere distinct from that 
 breathed by his only surviving parent ; leaving her to 
 enlarge at her leisure on the ingratitude of children 
 generally, and the special undutifulness of her own son, 
 who had not long since resigned a fellowship at College, 
 
AN OLD-FASHIONED THEME. 27 
 
 and with it a life of literary tranquillity, adapted 
 thoroughly to all his tastes and disposition, in order to 
 provide her and the two giddy girls, his sisters, with a 
 more comfortable home than they could have com- 
 manded elsewhere. 
 
 Conversation like this was recurring pretty often at 
 the Parsonage, for the sordid spirit of ]Mrs. Cranston 
 displayed itself more or less in every subject discussed 
 by her : yet, so powerful is the force of habit, and the 
 need (to most men) of woman's sympathy, that as soon 
 as the young rector had learnt what had befallen his 
 friend, and recovered from the first shock of the intelli- 
 gence, his immediate impulse was to communicate it to 
 his family; to accomplish which purpose he set forth 
 to meet the chaise, which at a certain hour would, ac- 
 cordino; to his calculations, be convevins: his mother and 
 sisters home from the house of a neighbouring friend, 
 where they had spent the preceding week. 
 
 Yes — though it was but a few days since mother and 
 son had parted in considerable dudgeon, the result of 
 strong opposition of opinion, and even of principle ; this 
 sensible man, so rightly judging in things disconnected 
 from his own domestic sphere — so clearly discerning the 
 shoals and breakers which threatened the vexed course 
 of other human vessels, and incapable of piloting his own, 
 went out to tell his griefs to one who, never since he had 
 grown out of pinafores, had responded to his feelings in 
 the manner he looked for and desired. 
 
28 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 CHAPTER ni. 
 
 FAITHFUL OR FALSE 1 
 
 In this same filial blindness, assuming that he was 
 in some way to be comforted by the sympathy of Mrs, 
 Cranston and her daughters, Richard felt disappointed 
 when the httle open carriage containing them did not 
 arrive in sight at that point of the road from whence 
 he expected to see it approaching, and he murmured 
 to liimself— " Always too late ! Ever behind-hand, 
 whether it be business or pleasure that engrosses their 
 giddy minds. And, after all, poor things ! I don't know 
 why I should be so eager to cloud their satisfaction with 
 my dismal tidings. But there is no consistency left in 
 this forlorn world, and why should I pretend to more 
 of it than my neighbours? Except Frere himself, I 
 never knew one who was invariably considerate of the 
 feelings of others — strictly just in small things as well 
 as great. And he, poor fellow ! Ah, who can tell if the 
 very excellence of his nature may not be in some sort 
 a disadvantage to him now ! A man of inferior stamp 
 could not feel this stroke with equal severity — one of a 
 vain and commonplace character would find a hundred 
 sources of consolation too trifling and ignoble to satisfy 
 
 7 • " 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? 29 
 
 Thus, sorrowfully philosophizing, Mr. Cranston saun- 
 tered by the wayside till the family drag appeared in 
 view, and caused him to quicken his steps. 
 
 " What's the matter now, my dear .? " inquired the 
 elder lady, seeing her son advancing with an expression 
 of unusual seriousness. And young voices from the off- 
 side of the jaunting-car exclaimed, " Law, Dickey, what 
 can it be ? " 
 
 Cranston shook his head. " Bad news, mother ! Sad, 
 sad news, my dear girls ! The worst we have heard for 
 many a day ! " 
 
 " Now don't frighten me, Richard," his mother rejoined, 
 " or 1 shall think that Saunders has killed the wrong 
 porker, or that something has happened to the cow." 
 
 " Hang the cow, she is well enough ! '' was the some- 
 what testy reply ; and, for fear of further guessing, 
 Cranston hastened to tell the cause of his dejection — 
 the great calamity which had befallen the excellent and 
 well-beloved Manley Frere. 
 
 Then, to do his audience justice, there was no want of 
 interest in the story, or of exclamation shrill and fast, 
 such as the female tongue delighteth to utter on most 
 occasions, sometimes to the purpose — sometimes not. 
 
 " And going to be married so soon, too ! Only think I " 
 cried one of the girls. 
 
 Her brother answered her despondingly. " Oh, that 
 is as may be hereafter ! Your sex, Bessey, are not always 
 patterns of fidelity any more than ours." 
 
 "Oh, never you fancy that T' said Mrs. Cranston. 
 "Manley Frere is much too well off in this world's 
 
30 ' THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 goods to be refused only because be is a little hard of 
 hearing. The Girdlestones are infinitely too wise in 
 their generation for that sort of nonsense, or I am much 
 mistaken in the principles of the family/' 
 
 " But my dear Kichard," said Bessey. " Won't it be 
 an odd sort of a wedding? Funny, eh ? Why, poor 
 Mr. Frere won't know when or where to make the 
 responses. I declare it will be hardly legal. Do you 
 remember marrying that deaf old farmer, and making 
 us all laugh so with the account of the ceremony when 
 you came home ? " 
 
 Her brother answered her in a tone of self-upbraiding. 
 '• Ah, Bessey, I shall know better than to laugh at such 
 a scene again ! " 
 
 The young lady had delicacy enough to appreciate 
 Cranston's newly-awakened scruples ; not so the mother 
 that bore her, who simply suggested that it was not 
 likely her son would have such another queer ceremony 
 to perform. 
 
 " For I would not have you flatter yourself," said she, 
 '' that you will be asked to read the service on this 
 occasion, notwithstanding you and the bridegroom are 
 such mighty friends together. Never expect it, my dear. 
 Those Girdlestones will be sure to get a Bishop by hook 
 or by crook — nothing less than a cZ/^-nified divine will go 
 down with them. Unless, indeed, you may be invited to 
 assist" (which word came hissing out of Mrs. Cranston's 
 mouth with all the contempt it deserved — for it must be 
 confessed that the term thus applied cannot be con- 
 demned too severely.) " Oh yes, my dear, I dare say 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? 31 
 
 you may be requested to assist his lordship in his diffi- 
 cult duty ! But (changing her tone) if I were you, 
 Kichard, I would see every one of them at Jericho before 
 I'd be brought into the tail of an advertisement." 
 
 And the spirited sentiment was unanimously supported 
 by the other side of the car. The old lady continued 
 to expatiate on this topic a little longer ; but it is evident 
 that her speech must have diverged a trifle from the 
 main argument, as it ended with a rather severe remark 
 on the limpness of her son's shirt-collar, and its manifest 
 want of starch. 
 
 Mr. Cranston fell back and allowed the chaise to 
 get considerably ahead of him. Away it jogged, the 
 thoughtless laughter of the girls vexing his sensitive ear, 
 and still more the sensitive mind within him, which was 
 rebelling sorely against the state of things, and bringing 
 full upon his recollection the quiet rooms at College, 
 where once he had dwelt a bachelor in the complete 
 and comfortable sense of the word : for, in his present 
 mode of life, he was experiencing many of the pains, 
 without any of the pleasures, of matrimony. 
 
 But the young clergyman was as free from selfishness 
 as one so susceptible could well be ; and, almost before 
 that provoking giggle had died away, he had reasoned 
 down his irritability, and when, in place of such heartless 
 sounds, the voice of the cuckoo stole unmolested on his 
 ear, he sank again into his previous musing, forgetting 
 himself and his own troubles in the greater affliction of 
 his friend. 
 
 It might be there was something in the song of the 
 
32 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 bird which encouraged gentle thoughts ; so often as he 
 had stood with that friend listening to the note, which 
 was a favourite with Manley Frere. A dreamy charac- 
 ter attaches to it — a something, too, of mystery, arising 
 from the shy habits of the songster, which struck Mr. 
 Frere's poetical taste. He was enthusiastic in his love 
 for the singing of birds, and had a host of fanciful no- 
 tions upon the subject. Many of these, half serious half 
 whimsical, occurred now to Mr. Cranston, who mentally 
 pledged himself that he would from thenceforth treasure 
 these reminiscences of his friend — reflections which, 
 whether valuable or not, could never again be uttered 
 with the same free and joyous spirit in which they were 
 originally poured forth. 
 
 Frere loved, especially, to assert the antiquity of this 
 music above all other descriptions of melody. Cranston 
 well remembered the feeling with which his friend had 
 spoken as they were once wandering through some ivy- 
 covered ruins, undoubted vestiges of a period far remote, 
 but the actual date of which had afforded speculation 
 to many an ardent and industrious antiquary — " Hark \" 
 Frere had suddenly exclaimed, interrupting their dispute 
 when it was at the highest, " Cranston, do you hear 
 the bird that is warbling in the bushes there ? Here 
 are we, cavilling about a trifle of a century or two — for 
 the question of date as to these old walls embraces no 
 more — and that bird traces his generations by thousands 
 upwards; and the self-same strain that is agitating his 
 little throat, has been sung by his feathered forefathers 
 — who shall say how far back in the history of the 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? 33 
 
 creation, or place the limit to the antiquity of that 
 strain ? The efforts of the oldest musician on record are 
 modern compared with his ; even David's psalms and the 
 song of Miriam. And then to think how dry and 
 meaofre are the oriorinal themes which have been handed 
 down to us, to be worked out painfully age after age, 
 cue master after another, bettering the subject till it 
 grew to be something worth listening to — not so the 
 birds, for they are heaven- taught !" 
 
 Cranston had disputed that notion, at least had 
 denied the possibility of ascertaining its truth. " Who 
 could tell," he asked, '^ how many, or how few, notes the 
 nightingale had originally possessed ? Her present rich 
 variety might, for ought they knew, have been gathered 
 together like the ideas of human professors, who seldom 
 scrupled at stealing from their brethren, especially when 
 they could do so undiscovered ; a trill, perhaps, had been 
 adopted from this antediluvian fowl of the air, a cadence 
 from that, till, through the lapse of countless ages, the 
 melody had reached its present point. And that which 
 we term perfect of its kind, may still require a period 
 which, to our human arithmetic, would seem little else 
 than eternity before it shall have obtained its ultimate 
 perfection." 
 
 But Frere repelled the idea ; for it charmed him, he 
 said, to believe, as he roamed the woods, that the same 
 individual melody was sounding in his favoured ear 
 that had been chanted on the morning of creation, even 
 at the moment when the angels shouted for joy to see 
 the world so fresh and beautiful. " You are almost 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
34 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 as bad, Cranston" — it was thus he went on — " as a stupid 
 fellow I fell in with last year, as I was walking through 
 Brittany, who wished that the birds had a new song 
 every spring, ^ like the girls at the Opera,' for he pro- 
 fessed himself tired to death of the old ones. Then did 
 I extol the wisdom of nature, who, in granting us such 
 an accompaniment to our meditations amongst her 
 works, keeps it sacred from our wretched attempts at 
 improvement. We may destroy — if it so pleaseth us — 
 for we have dominion over the lives of the feathered crea- 
 tion — we may kill the bird and stop his singing ; but as 
 long as that song is permitted to gladden earth and skies, 
 our blundering efforts to better it can neither add too 
 nor detract one note from the gamut. If man could 
 meddle with such things, imagine the direful improve- 
 ments that would be heard amongst the high trees and 
 creeping trellis-work ! "What ill-conceived harmonies 
 would be bursting from every bosky brake ! But here 
 he is happily foiled : he may follow out his giant 
 schemes, pierce rocks, turn rivers from their time-worn 
 courses ; the little birds defy him still ; the smallest 
 thing that flies from twig to twig, may look down on 
 the animal, boasting himself her master, and chirrup at 
 her own discretion, never — Heaven be praised for it a 
 thousand times ! — never at his ! " 
 
 As Cranston's memory, quickened by the connecting 
 influence of this solitary note, recalled to him the image 
 of his beloved friend, his animated look and gesture, 
 as he had thus discoursed upon a topic which, trifling as 
 it then seemed^ now took an interest of a deeper and 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? 35 
 
 more peculiar character ; he felt as if, for the first time, 
 all the truth and bitterness of Frere's reflections came 
 upon him in their full reality. Yfas it indeed possible 
 that that ear, once so susceptible of the exquisite power 
 of sound, was never again to be blest with what it had 
 so delighted in ? And oh, worse still ! was their inti- 
 macy to be deprived of what Mr. Frere had justly pro- 
 nounced the greatest charm of perfect confidence, '' the 
 power of hearing and estimating the same idea at the 
 same moment of time." His soul sickened, and the 
 sunlight seemed to depart from his own earthly course, 
 as he grew more and more sensible of the bleakness which 
 must for ever hover over the prospects of his friend. 
 
 Mr. Cranston's next attempt at securing a sympathetic 
 auditor was more successful than his first. Old Mrs. 
 Jefcott, the governante of his small establishment, who 
 had once been his careful nurse and was now his faith- 
 ful housekeeper, was equally qualified by her long ser- 
 vices in his family, and her natural endowments, to take 
 the liveliest interest in all that concerned him. Often 
 had it occurred to the young rector, when pained by the 
 volubility of his sisters, or offended by his mother's 
 obtusity to every sentimental feeling, to find in the 
 homely but never vulgar conversation of this shrewd 
 old woman, a comfort not to be derived from any other 
 creature in his house. He might be tempted occasion- 
 ally to correct her English, but had seldom to find fault 
 with the sentiments it unfolded. The day did not close, 
 therefore, till Jefcott had been made cognizant of all the- 
 graver part of his anxiety, and had been intrusted 
 
36 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 besides with many more of the minor details than he 
 would have ventured to hazard to the w^andering atten- 
 tion and coarse remarks of her mistress. 
 
 Jefcott had seen enough of Mr. Frere to be interested 
 in him for his own sake ; and, had he been less engaging 
 than he really was, the warm friendship subsisting 
 between him and her master would have suflSced to en- 
 gage her unaffected sympathy. With the true aim of 
 a feeling heart, as well as a* discerning mind, her obser- 
 vations went straight to the point, " To think of him 
 beinsT struck at an asje like that ! for I think ]\Ir. Frere's 
 younger by a year or two than you, Mr. Richard. Dear, 
 dear ! so gay as he was the very last time as I see him ; 
 and here we are mourning over the poor young gentle- 
 man as if he was gone to his grave. When it overtakes 
 an old person — such a one as me we'll say — nobody won- 
 ders, and nobody cares ; and indeed, sir,' it seems to me 
 that deafness is sometimes rather a blessing than not 
 to us old folks ; it keeps us, you know, from hearing a 
 great deal that's very disagreeable. If old Jacob Green, 
 that lives near the churchyard, was a little more hard of 
 hearing, he wouldn't be always worrying and complain- 
 ing about the tolling of the church bells, and the crying 
 of his little grandchildren, poor little dears ; and if King 
 Lear liad been deaf, you know, Mr. Eichard, he'd never 
 have heard half the wicked thiogs them daughters of 
 his used to say about him ; but it's quite another thing 
 when it falls upon the young. And then there's Mr. 
 'Frere's young lady: what will she say to it, do you 
 think, sir ?" 
 
FAITHFUL OB FALSE ? 37 
 
 "What sliould she say to it?" returned her master 
 with some sharpness, and a suspicious glance at the oldi 
 woman, as she stood leaning over one of the high-backed 
 chairs in his little study, her broad wrinkled face and 
 deep set eyes turned steadily upon him. " What would 
 you imagine any woman in her predicament saying, but 
 that she was ready to follow her lover in sorrow as well 
 as in joy ; and that it would be her delight, no less than 
 her duty, to comfort and cherish him to the end of his 
 days ? Why surely, Jefcott, you, who have a heart your- 
 self, can never suspect that charming Miss Girdlestone 
 of wanting an article so essential to a young lady. You 
 do not suppose she would give my friend up only be- 
 cause he has lost his hearing ? No, no, no ! He, poor 
 fellow, may entertain a doubt, for he is full of modesty, 
 and the very soul of disinterestedness,* but no one but 
 himself — no one at least who knows and estimates 
 Manley Frere at his true value — can suspect her willing- 
 ness to fulfil their engagement." 
 
 Jefcott screwed up her lips, and giving her head three 
 separate and decided nods, replied, " Don't you be too 
 sure of that, Mr. Eichard ; I may be out in my reckoning, 
 and I hope it will 23rove so ; but something comes across 
 me that them two young people will never be man and 
 wife." 
 
 Her master, pausing in his contemplative walk across 
 the room, turned round at this, " Why, what on earth 
 makes you say that, you old raven ? " 
 
 " Ha, ha," said she, " you don't mean that for a com- 
 pliment, Mr. Richard ; but for my part I don't know a 
 
38 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 cleverer bird than a raven — young or old, lie's not one 
 of them as is to be caught with chaff, any more than 
 I, old and humble as I stand here, am like to be taken 
 in by a pretty face. Mind I don't say she luonH have 
 him, because that would be the height of presumption 
 — perhaps she may, and perhaps she mayn't ; but it 
 would no ways surprise me if Miss Girdlestone was to 
 give up Mr. Frere — I can't say as it would." 
 
 " Martha," said her master in an admonitory tone — 
 (it was singular, by the way, that while his mother's as- 
 surance that Miss Girdlestone would fulfil her engage- 
 ment with his friend annoyed him, he was not less dis- 
 turbed by the opposite opinion of his housekeeper that 
 she would not) — ^' Martha, you ought to have very sub- 
 stantial reasons for what you are saying, reflecting as it 
 does on the character of a young lady like Barbara 
 Girdlestone/' 
 
 " I don t know what you might think of my reasons, 
 Mr. Kichard, but they are enough for a simple body 
 such as me." 
 
 " Now, Patty, let me have none of that nonsense. I 
 observe that, whenever you are disposed to be mis- 
 chievous, you always preface your scandal with some 
 parade about your being a ' simple body ' as you call 
 it — as if your soul had not much more to do with the 
 question. Come, out with your story, for I want to go to 
 bed ! What wonderful matter is it that makes you think 
 this charming girl likely to turn out the falsest jilt in 
 Christendom ? " 
 
 " Oh, it won't seem consequential to you, Mr. Eichard 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? 39 
 
 — moonshine on the water you'll call it, or something 
 to that effect ; and next Sunday we shall have a sermon 
 against the sin of slandering our neighbour, as happened 
 you know not very long ago, just after I gave you that 
 little hint about Sally Groves and the recruiting ser- 
 geant ; — and a very fine discourse it was, sir, I don't 
 know as I ever heerd you preach a finer. Only you see, 
 Mr. Richard, after all, Sally was sent away from her 
 place without a character — wasn't she, sir?" 
 '^ Well, well, we'll not talk about that now." 
 " Oh, I only brought up poor Sally again because you 
 scolded me for judging her on light grounds ; and yet, as 
 things turned out, you were obleeged to own that the 
 old raven had some cause for her croaking, weren't 
 you, Mr. Richard.? But for all that, sir, I doubt when 
 you've heerd all I've got to say about Mr. Mauley's 
 young lady, v/hether you won't make just the same 
 objection ; however, I shall speak my mind, nevertheless." 
 ^' No doubt you will ! Well, now, let us have it." 
 " Do you remember the night of the great christening- 
 party up at the Warburtons.? Old Lady Warburton 
 was so kind as to ask me to come up to the Hall and 
 see the supper laid out — and a grand sight it was, to be 
 sure ; and afterwards, when she saw me amongst the rest 
 of the servants standing at the door of the ball-room 
 looking at the dancing, what did she do — she was always 
 a affable old lady — but make me come in, and give 
 me a place on one of the window-seats, where I could 
 see every thing quite nice, and not be in the way. That 
 was the only time I ever set eyes on IMiss Girdlestone ; 
 
40 THE THREE CHA^'CES. 
 
 but tliere she was to be sure, and a pretty young lady I 
 thouo^lit her — and there was ISLr. Frere : and though he 
 wasn't always dangling after her and tied to her apron- 
 string, as many a gentleman in his condition would have 
 been, yet if any one noticed him as curious as I did, they 
 might have seen that his looks were never long away 
 from her ; and when he would be talking and making 
 the agreeable to the other ladies, yet I could see as plain 
 as anything that the best part of his thoughts was with 
 her all the while " — a sort of groan from her master, as 
 he stood leaning against the mantel-piece, checked her — 
 ^' You remember that night Mr. Kichard?" 
 
 " Ay, ay ! Go on, Martha," with another deep-drawn 
 sigh, for well Mr. Cranston remembered it. It had 
 seemed to him that it must have been to his friend a 
 scene of unmingled felicity, brilliant yet pure, the joyous 
 present unshaded by one misgiving of the future ; and, 
 incapable as Cranston was of a malevolent emotiou, he 
 had that night been obliged to repress a something bor- 
 dering on the envious, as he had contrasted his own 
 insignificant person with the fine form and easy move- 
 ments of J\lanley Frere, and thought how impossible it 
 would be for him, under any circumstances, to attract the 
 favourable notice of such a woman as Barbara Girdle- 
 stone. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Richard," Martha proceeded, " those two 
 had been dancing together — a decent dance, not like 
 them pokers." 
 
 '' Polkas, Martha— P-o-l-k." 
 
 '^ Ah, it comes to much about the same — vou know 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? 41 
 
 what I mean ; and it so happened that Mr. Frere was 
 called out of the room — there was a sick horse of his in 
 the stable, and the farrier was just come over from Win- 
 slow, and wanted to speak to him about the poor beast. 
 And so he and his pretty partner, they came walking 
 down the room side by side, talking and joking, till, just 
 as they got near me (I was sitting just within the door), 
 they stopped — he going out, and she turning back again ; 
 and first it was somethino^ about the horse, she sendino; 
 her love to Bushefalus — that was his name, or something 
 like it — and wishing she could kiss him and make him 
 well. Just the sort of stuff you know, sir, that sounds 
 very well out of a pretty mouth, but wouldn't suit at all 
 if it came out of an ugly one ; and then, just as they 
 were parting, I heard Mr. Frere say to her, ' Now pro- 
 mise me one thing — I sha n't be gone,' says he, ^ a quarter 
 of an hour : don't poke (or p-o-l-k, as you call it, Mr. 
 Kichard) — don't,' says lie, ' do tliat while I'm gone.' I 
 listened all I was able to catch her answer, but I could 
 only hear something about not liking to be ' particular.' 
 It must have been something to that effect ; for then I 
 heard him say in his nice way, looking down upon her 
 with a sort of proud fondness — ' Ah, Barbara,' he says, 
 ^ don't flatter yourself you can escape notice: the beautiful 
 and the good must always be particular in this world, 
 because there are so few of them.' I don't say as them 
 was the very words ; but, whatever they were, they meant 
 the same thing, and then he repeated what he had said 
 before, only in a more pressing way. But, before he could 
 finish, she turned away and she says, * Well, I'll think 
 
42 THE THPwEE CHAXCES. 
 
 about it/ or, ^ I'll see about it/ or sometbing of tbat 
 careless sort, and then they went their different ways. 
 Well, Mr. Richard, you may fancy tbat, being in the 
 secret, as I may say, I war'n't slow at watching what 
 should come to pass. They were just striking up 
 one of those nasty jiggeting tunes that my poor father 
 would have broken bis fiddle in two before he'd ever have 
 played — and presently I see ever so many gentlemen 
 (boys and others) come clustering round her, but be- 
 tween while I could see her first looking downcast and 
 very modest like, and then she'd look up at them and 
 say something that should make them all laugh. I 
 guessed what they were after, and I got as anxious and 
 fidgety as if I had been that good young man's own mo- 
 ther, instead of being nothing but an old raven, or an old 
 scandalmonger, if that suits you better, Mr. Eichard." 
 
 ^* Well," said her master, whose interest was awakened 
 by the story, trifling as it seemed — '^ and did she polk 
 after all ?" 
 
 " Didn't she !" was the indignant answer, every feature 
 of the old woman's expressive of her honest scorn. 
 " Didn't she let that lankey captain that lives down at 
 Fulverton — him with the red hair ; didn't I see her let 
 him take her round the waist and spin her about, while 
 her pretty little nose was almost touching his nasty 
 sandy whiskers ! And there they went, jiggeting here, 
 and tittuping there ! Oh, Mr. Eichard, if such a 
 dance as this had been brought into fashion in my poor 
 father's time, I think it would have gone very nigh to be 
 the death of him !" to account for which second allusion 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? 43 
 
 of Martha's to the deceased Mr. Jefcott, in reference to 
 the humours of a modern ball-room, it may be as well 
 to state that her father had been a dancing-master in 
 his day; though, alas ! from an unlucky predilection for 
 uniting bacchanalian pleasures with those of Terpsichore, 
 that day had come to a premature and melancholy close. 
 But with the tragic period of the old housekeeper's 
 early career we have nothing to do, nor even with what 
 may be termed its more grotesque portion, except to notice 
 the strange contrast offered by Jefcott's coarse features 
 and thickset person with the reminiscences which, in her 
 confidential chat with her master, she would occasion- 
 ally fall back upon, of cotillons and gavottes, inter- 
 spersed even with terms relating to the profession in its 
 more scientific range ; for her honoured sire, as long as 
 drink allowed him a leg to stand upon, had been 
 connected with the stage, and had brought out two of his 
 daughters as ballet-dancers—'' nice slim young creatures, 
 just made for it !" Martha would describe them with a 
 sigh,—" God knows what's come of them, poor dears ! 
 for when my poor father went off v/e was all scattered 
 hither and thither ; and to be sure I've always thought 
 what a mercy it was for me that I was too fat for the 
 profession. Always stumpy, Mr. Eichard, and had no 
 ' a plum' as they used to call it. They tried me once 
 for a zephyr that they wanted in a hurry ; it was when 
 poor little Therese le Gros had the measles come out 
 upon her the very night of a grand new bally, and so 
 they dressed me up in her things, for we were much of a 
 heio-ht, but it wouldn't do, for I was always an extra 
 
44 THE THREE CHAJJ^CES. 
 
 size t'other way. Well, but to finish my story about 
 Miss Girdlestone. Mr. Frere didn't come back till just 
 as she was leaving off, but he could see what tricks she 
 had been after; and, if ever that young lady felt uncom- 
 fortable in her life, I think it must have been then when 
 she met his eyes : not that he looked altogether cross, 
 I should say it was more sorry and reproachful that he 
 looked at her, but I saw she guessed what was passing 
 in his thoughtsffor she took his arm and they went their 
 wsijs into another room, she talking and coaxing him 
 like ; and I suppose, with her pretty smile and winning 
 ways, she soon got the better of him, for when I saw 
 them together again, they were dancing just as if nothing 
 had happened. But not that poker," said Martha, 
 shaking her head ; ^' no, not a bit of it ! Mr. Frere's much 
 too much of a real gentleman to do such a thing himself, 
 or to ask any young lady (let alone his own particular 
 one) to have to do with such a low-lived proceeding." 
 
 " You are right, Martha," said her master ; '^ the 
 encouragement of this immodest and ungraceful dance is 
 a convincing proof, if any were wanting, that more is said 
 about our national improvement in either morals or 
 taste than can be fairly established Awkward to the 
 sight, and painful to the ear, it has not one quality to 
 recommend it to the favour of a modest woman ! Pro- 
 bably the fact that it does border closely upon what is 
 improper forms its great charm with the majority of 
 young people; but what shall be said of the mothers and 
 fathers who can stand by and sanction so gross a 
 violation of delicacy as every ball-room now exhibits ! 
 
FAITHFUL OR FALSE ? , 45 
 
 Ah, well, it is of no use to grumble at what we cannot 
 reform ; we must be off to bed now, Martha ; so, good- 
 night to you. The pretty Barbara may not be quite the 
 pure-minded piece of excellence we should wish her to 
 be ; yet she may liave love enough still left for my poor 
 friend, not to turn her back upon him in the hour of his 
 sorest affliction. I hope still, in spite of the polka, Patty, 
 to o-et a more cheerful letter from him to-morrow." 
 
 " Hope you may, I'm sure, sir. I wouldn't take offence 
 at another sermon on defamation next Sunday ; I should 
 be rather glad to hear it." 
 
 " No, no, Jefcott, we are agreed at least on this point — 
 in our Utopia there will be no polka-dancing." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Kichard, if I could only live to see a good 
 old minuit again, such as my father used to teach the 
 young ladies at boarding-schools; there was true 
 grace and dignity, if you please !" 
 
 " Nay, Martha ! now you are advocating a very ex- 
 treme measure; object as we may to the present state of 
 things, I think we must stop short of the minuet." 
 
46 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 4 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 DAMON TO PYTHIAS. 
 
 The morrow came, but brought no tidings of Mr. 
 Frere ; another and another day, and still no letter. And 
 Cranston, anxious and disturbed, entertained serious 
 thoughts of leaving his parish to the care of a neigh- 
 bouring clergyman, and setting off to join his friend 
 and learn the truth, when on the fourth day the letter 
 arrived. Mr. Cranston too truly divined its contents, 
 and he opened it with a sinking heart, and not in the 
 presence of his mother. Thus it ran — 
 
 " All is over, and Heaven wills that I should wear 
 out my desolate existence separated for ever from the 
 only being whose society could render that existence 
 tolerable to me. She gives me up, Cranston — the act 
 which condemns me to desolation may be veiled in 
 language less abrupt, but it can bear no other meaning. 
 I am abandoned in my utmost need ; at the time I most 
 required all the strength and tenderness of her love, she 
 has denied it me, and cast me off for ever ! 
 
 " Of course I have not seen her, she has not even 
 written to me. Is this silence, think you, an admission 
 of there being really something indefensible in her con- 
 
DAMOX TO PYTHIAS. 47 
 
 duct ? or is it only, as the family would have me believe, 
 that she is so wrought upon by her feelings as to be 
 unequal to holding any direct communication with me ? 
 that she is ill — wretched — suffering (so they word it) 
 more than I ? If I could believe that^ I might indeed pity 
 her; but it is impossible — and I would rather she had 
 spoken out honestly, telling me she had been deceived 
 by the symptoms of a girlish passion, and that the 
 •flame had expired with the first gust of misfortune : the 
 confession might have hurt me, but I should have 
 respected its sincerity at least. Instead of this straight- 
 forward proceeding, the aunt takes upon her to address 
 me ; Mrs. Girdlestone, weak and infirm, has always been 
 governed by this elder sister, and her influence over 
 Barbara is far too great. I am conscious of not being 
 yet in a state to appreciate fairly the motives and 
 feelings of those who are torturing me ; but I think that, 
 under a pretence of great concern for me, this letter of 
 Mrs. Barrington's was a laboured and shallow produc- 
 tion. I have long suspected that she did not cordially 
 favour our engagement. Under much elegance of 
 manner she conceals an essentially vulgar mind ; and her 
 esteem for mere rank is so great that I am convinced in 
 her heart she rejoices over a calamity which affords her 
 a chance of securing a titled husband for her niece. 
 There is a certain Lord Heathcote, foolish, profligate, and 
 needy, whom she would much prefer to me ; and that in 
 the end she will compass her evil designs I have scarcely 
 a doubt, and I shall live to know that the sweet crea- 
 ture I once so doated on, is suffering hourly contamina- 
 
48 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 tion as the wife of this man. What particularly 
 offended me in this letter was the tone in which Mrs. 
 Barrington affected to consult my advantage. I was 
 told that Barbara, amiable as she was, did not possess 
 the character I ought now to seek for in a wife — she 
 wanted the steadiness which alone could fit her for 
 being the constant companion of one suffering under a 
 bereavement like mine. Of course, she went on to 
 say, had I insisted on my right, the Girdlestones would 
 not have interfered to disturb an arrangement which 
 had been so long existing ; but as I generously resigned 
 all claim to the hand of their dear child, they could not 
 in justice to her decline accepting the release I offered. 
 Barbara was heart-broken (that phrase was more than 
 once repeated) ; but the sacrifice her sense of honour 
 might dictate was what they could none of them think 
 themselves justified in sanctioning. I have said that 
 Mrs. Barrington has some influence with her; but, 
 Cranston, had she been truly desirous to complete our 
 betroth ment, I know enough of Barbara to be certain 
 that she would have maintained her resolution, though 
 every relation belonging to her had opposed it. 
 
 " The letter was delivered to me bv her father and two 
 of her brothers; their meaning was well enough, no 
 doubt. One cannot suspect them of needlessly wounding 
 the man they were bent on crushing to the earth ; but 
 surely the good taste of such a family convocation at such 
 a time may be questioned. When I was staggering 
 imder a blow like that, to be gathering around me, 
 observiog my countenance and movements as if I had 
 
DAMON TO PYTHIAS. 49 
 
 been some strange curiosity, and each in his way gesti- 
 culating with an expression of pity, that by its very ex- 
 cess struck me as something almost impertinent. And 
 yet I am judging them harshly, for I believe Mr. Girdle- 
 ston would have come alone had it not been for the 
 mere softness of his nature. He is not a man of strong 
 mind, and required the countenance and support of his 
 sons daring what must have been a severe trial to him. 
 But, if any thing could increase the cruelty of the sen- 
 tence, it was their delivering it to me in person. I had 
 lately, while awaiting my doom, secluded myself entirely 
 from society ; and I cannot explain to you how painful 
 and humiliating I found it to be at once surrounded, not 
 by merely indifferent people (tJiat I am beginning to 
 bear tolerably well), but by persons so intimately con- 
 nected with all my dearest interests. They who by 
 belonging to her were to have become my relations — 
 with whom I had hitherto been so affectionately united, 
 and whom I had loolved to as bearing for the future so 
 friendly a part in all our joys and sorrows. Not one 
 festive occasion would ever have come round in its 
 annual course, without finding these familiar faces as- 
 sembled round us ; and here they were, but deprived of 
 the slightest trace of their usual expression — changed in 
 every feature, acting a sort of pantomime of grief, and / 
 the cause of all ! 
 
 " What I have suffered during this interview convinces 
 me more than ever that I am at present unfit for the 
 sight of old friends and acquaintances ; even you, my 
 Cranston, will shew me most real kindness in leaving 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
60 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 roe to my miserable self, and to a susceptibility I am 
 asbamed of feeling, and sbould be still more asbamed to 
 display. Fear not tbat in time I sball become strong 
 enough to meet tbe inevitable evils of my condition in 
 whatever form they may appear, and to perform the 
 duties remaining to me — for I suppose that even the 
 deaf have duties for which they are qualified, though 
 now to myself I seem a cipher — helpless — hopeless — (as 
 far as concerns the present world) — a useless nonentity. 
 But my reason tells me that I must gradually grow 
 inured to much that now seems insufferable. This very 
 love, that is rooted so deeply in my nature that it would 
 seem to form a part of it, I cannot believe so ill of my 
 own resolution, or of the justice of Heaven, as to doubt 
 but that the efforts I shall and will make to overcome it, 
 will be successful in the end — perhaps sooner than ap- 
 pears possible to me now ; and even the image of this 
 lovely but light-minded creature, though never to be 
 obliterated from my memory, must become weakened 
 through the exertion of a determined will. I never had 
 the least respect for the wailings of a deserted lover, and 
 trust to have strength enough to shun the imitation of 
 what in the person of another I have so thoroughly 
 despised. 
 
 " In speaking thus of Barbara you will be struck with 
 the contradiction my sentiments now offer to my former 
 professions ; but now I see plainly that my candour was 
 more than half assumed, and, in tenderness to her, I 
 magnified my own defects to give her virtue the greater 
 triumph. For, Cranston, in my inmost soul I did not 
 
DAMON TO PYTHIAS. 51 
 
 tliink she would forsake me ; and I still believe that in 
 any of the ordinary vicissitudes that fall to the lot of man, 
 she never would have faltered. Through poverty, or dis- 
 ease, or evil-repute (if undeserved), she would have clung 
 to me with a true and devoted heart ; therefore I must 
 try to recall the sense I had at first, of the sacrifice she 
 would have made in remaining faithful to me ; nor must 
 I be asking myself the useless question, whether in her 
 place I would have acted as poor a part ? Supposing 
 her the sufferer, whether I would have been as false to 
 her, as she has been to me ? For though my answer 
 never varies, though firmly assured that, had this cala-* 
 mity fallen upon her, she would still be as dear to me— 
 ay, a thousand times dearer than ever — I know, when I 
 consider the subject justly and rationally, that the two 
 cases will not bear comparison. In portraying her to my-* 
 self as robbed of this blessing of existence — in giving to 
 her sweet eyes that wistful, anxious look, which is so apt 
 to characterise those bereaved of hearing, so far from her 
 appearing to me as an object to be shunned, I see her only 
 as a creature more exquisite in her misfortune, more 
 touching from the absence of those high spirits that had 
 once been the delight of all who approached her, more 
 graceful than ever in her gentler, softer movements — 
 not perhaps the very same I had wooed to be my com- 
 panion through life, but something yet lovelier and more 
 sacred ! But these gentle attributes, which are so akin 
 to woman's nature, bear no relation to those qualities 
 which (and especially in their eyes) form the chief ex- 
 cellence of man ; my reason tells me this, and urges upon 
 
52 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 me that I must not, in common candour, estimate her 
 position or feelings in any measure by my own. Yet still, 
 Cranston, still — reasonable as I acknowledge all this to 
 be — my heart is ever whispering another story, calling 
 her false, fleeting — perjured ! And wliy is it that, with 
 my respect for her so lowered, I still cling to the remem- 
 brance of her ? Why not shake off at once and for ever 
 this fond and foolish lingering of the fancy for one whom 
 I pei'ceive to be unworthy of my stronger, nobler love ? 
 It may be that my weakness, as it has been my fault, is 
 to form also my punishment, dooming me still to worship 
 the false image I had set up. But no — smitten as I am, 
 I will not believe myself quite so poor a creature ! 
 
 " To return to what I was telling you of my future 
 plans, 1 intend to travel for the next two years, but not 
 to revisit places I have already seen. The northern 
 parts of Europe are luckily quite new to me, and there 
 I may abide as long as I find it convenient, amongst a 
 strange race, and employ myself in the acquirement of 
 languages, the aspect of which will be a perfect novelty, 
 and the sound, were it possible to reach me, could awaken 
 no dansrerous association. Durino- this interval I shall 
 hope to throw off much of this morbid sensibility to the 
 opinion of others that now unnerves me ; and, when I 
 return home, my story will be an old one, my misfortunes 
 will seem even to my best friends as a thing of course, 
 and, as I shall then excite no particular notice, I may 
 escape that sensation of singularity Avhich at present 
 haunts me so painfully wherever I go. I wish I could 
 carry out this scheme without further delay, but there is 
 
DAMON TO PYTHIAS. 53 
 
 a good deal yet to be done before I can leave the country. 
 I find Mr. Divet, who happens to be staying near Old 
 Court, extremely useful to me ; he, and his father before 
 him, having been formerly our men of business, there are 
 many things relating to this estate in which he is neces- 
 sarily much more at home than Worthington, my pre- 
 sent steward. When I have arranged all I have to do 
 here, there will still, Divet says, be a good deal of busi- 
 ness to be looked into ; new leases to be drawn up, and 
 so forth, with regard to the London property, in which 
 also I shall find it very convenient to have his advice, 
 and his thorough knowledge of the subject may tend very 
 materially to expedite my departure. It is principally 
 on this account, therefore, that I am inclined to accept 
 a pressing invitation he has given me, to remove to his 
 house whenever I am at liberty to leave my own. It is 
 only thirty miles from town, so that, if necessary, I can 
 go up with him wlien my presence there may be re- 
 quired; and he promises his assistance in unravelling 
 some of the mysteries of the law as respects landlord 
 and tenant, the technicalities of which, even with hivS 
 friendly help, I find it difficult to comprehend. All this 
 is the more kind in Mr. Divet, as he has for some years 
 left off business, and is settled elsewhere in what I un- 
 derstand to be a comfortable and gentlemanly way. In 
 many respects such a change — and I only wish I could 
 make it immediately — will suit me well, being almost 
 as far removed as Norway, or Iceland itself, frona ono 
 f imiliar face or old remembrance. In another w^y, too,, 
 Divet is likely to be useful to me. I was |Qi?^gj I beUev^ 
 
54 THE THREE CH.VNCES. 
 
 unwarily, to hire an almost entire stranger in the room 
 of poor Anderson, whose consumptive tendencies are 
 daily increasiag, and who would be utterly unequal to a 
 northern journey. But Divet tells me he knows of a 
 man in the neighbourhood of his place at Etheridge 
 who would exactly suit me; though loth, loth indeed 
 shall I be to see another in the place of my good and 
 faithful Anderson ! And is it not a strange thing that, 
 just as I am turning my face from home to begin a new 
 life, this poor fellow, who would have seemed such an 
 inevitable link between the past and the future, should 
 be disabled from serving me any longer ? What an utter 
 alienation from all I once valued ! One only thing must 
 still be left me, now more invaluable than ever — your 
 friendship, Cranston — how truly may I say, ' passing the 
 love of woman ! ' — that I cannot do without ; so if vou 
 should ever find yourself growing cold like her — and the 
 time may come (for neither to you nor to any other can I 
 be the Manley Frere of old times) — but should it be so, 
 Dick, in pity do not let me know the change that comes 
 over you ; but rather, in the spirit of that heavenly charity 
 I have often seen you display in the case of other un- 
 happy and desolate creatures, do your best still to de- 
 ceive me. My only friend — my sole comfort — my dearest, 
 most beloved Cranston — never, never may you know one- 
 tenth part of the misery that weighs your poor Manley 
 to the very earth." 
 
 We will not enlarge on the depressing effect this letter 
 had upon all such of the household at Sheen Kectory as 
 were, from pure compassion or any other motive, in- 
 
DAMON TO PYTHIAS. 55 
 
 terested in the fate of Mr. Frere, or the various ways in 
 which the dismal despatch was commented on; it will 
 suffice to say, that when Richard Cranston that night 
 laid his saddened head upon his pillow, the words which 
 rang chiefly in his ears were something about that "nasty 
 polka, Mr. Richard/' and a something else about Mickle- 
 sham-Basset. 
 
 I had little difficulty in heading this last letter of Mr. 
 Frere's with a pair of names so celebrated in the records 
 of friendship, as to convey my meaning at a glance ; but 
 why is it that when I would compliment my female cor- 
 respondents in the same way, I find myself at a loss to 
 discover any two ladies who have made themselves pro- 
 verbial for the fidelity of their attachments ? It is truly 
 mortifying to be obliged to resort to fiction for what I 
 want ; and yet I solemnly aver that throughout the 
 whole course of history, ancient or modern, not a single 
 instance occurs to me — no, not so much as one poor brace 
 of names — unless it be those of the good old spinsters of 
 Llangollen ; and even they — alas ! would the same habi- 
 tation have continued to hold them in conjunction so 
 many years, but for the rash and romantic vow where- 
 with they had bound themselves ? 
 
5S THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TILBURINA IN WHITE SATIN, TO HER CONFIDANTE 
 
 IN DIMITY. 
 
 The letter subjoined is bound for a village in Lei- 
 cestershire, and directed to a lady residing in that 
 county:— 
 
 " Will you be angry, or sorry, or shocked, my dear 
 Lucy, when I tell you your warning came just too late 
 to aid me in my deliberations ? the day before it reached 
 me the Colonel had made his offer, and I — yes, Lucy — 
 I had accepted him ! and as the step is, of course, irre- 
 vocable, I think it will please you to be assured that 
 your letter would in no degree have affected my resolu- 
 tion. I will not assert that my dear cousin's remon- 
 strances and advice about ^ self-examination ' — ^ doing 
 nothing rashly,' and so on, with that dreadful — dreadful 
 picture of the unspeakable misery of an ill-assorted 
 union, failed to touch me — it would be doing injustice 
 to my Lucy's deep thought and force of expression to 
 suppose that they could be read with indifference ; on 
 the contrary, your words took a strange hold on my ima- 
 
TILBURINA TO HER CONFIDANTE. 57 
 
 gination — a bewildering effect, such as I can hardly ex- 
 press — a sort of frightened feeling, as if 1 had really 
 done something wrong — or dangerous at least ; and as I 
 sat in my lonely room, though the window was shut 
 and the day far from chilly, I shivered from head to 
 foot. A very little calm consideration soon quieted me, 
 however ; for the advice which would suit so many 
 w^oraen on the eve of marriage, is quite inapplicable to 
 me, and in giving it you have consulted your own cha- 
 racter — not mine. Be assured that whatever acuteness 
 of feeling and warmth of fancy I may once have pos- 
 sessed, circumstances have so thoroughly checked their 
 development that my original nature has long become 
 extinct, and given place to a calculating self-possession, 
 which must effectually guard me against the perils your 
 livelier imagination conjures up. Kemember the life 
 which has formed those habits and turn of thought, and 
 fear nothing for me. At what period of my youth 
 have I ever been liable to those lively visions of a girlish 
 mind which, in their subsequent effect on my dis- 
 position, might cause me to repent my acceptance of an 
 estimable man like Colonel Hussey ? ' The heart alone 
 knoweth its own bitterness' — and I cannot expect you 
 to estimate all the corroding influences, small as well as 
 great, which have shed gall and wormwood into mine. 
 In fact, melancholy as my life has been since our 
 knowledge of each other began, and calculated, as you 
 must have seen, to deaden every tendency to romance, I be- 
 lieve it to have been more the apprenticeshipof my child- 
 hood — my almost infant years — which has worn down all 
 
5S THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 the elements of fancy, and, by forcing me to behold all 
 things as they really and truly exist, with no false 
 colouring supplied by vague hopes or animal spirits, 
 has made me the commonplace creature I am. Though 
 favouring neither the forms nor spirit of Quakerism, the 
 universe, and whatever it contains, has been ever a dust- 
 coloured world to me — pure, unmingled drab ! A 
 colour I know you detest, because you think it unbecom- 
 ing to your complexion ; in the figurative sense in which 
 I apply the colour, it is equally unfavourable to the 
 soul. 
 
 ^'I wish I could give you an adequate idea of the 
 troubles of my earliest days, the incessant struggle with 
 poverty, and the vain attempt to keep up an appearance 
 of gentility — (shabby at the best) — which it was the 
 business of my poor mother's life to preserve ; but the 
 preserving of which interfered so grievously with my 
 childish comfort and amusements. Precocious and 
 sensitive beyond my years, I soon learned to compre- 
 hend what was agitating or depressing the friends I 
 loved, and to participate in more of their maturer feel- 
 ings than could be good for me. As I look back to that 
 period — and how often it comes before me again in all 
 its bitterness ! — I can hardly fancy a worse school for 
 the nurture of the poetic portion of our nature. At an 
 age when other children in their play -hours are begin- 
 ning to weave together their own crude yet harmless 
 fancies, and are applying to themselves the fairy stories 
 that are told them, or the romances they read by stealth, 
 my dawning faculties were bounded within the prosaic 
 
TILBURTXA TO HER CONIIDAXTE. 59 
 
 Circle of a home, the scene of hopeless privation, and — 
 what is far more deteriorating to a young mind — pos- 
 sessed with those demons of strife and bickering, recri- 
 mination and contempt, which are so often the in- 
 separable companions of poverty. Brought up in scenes 
 like these, how can I give faith to what I hear or read 
 about cheerful, uncomplaining indigence, and of family 
 affection growing brighter as the common purse be- 
 comes exliausted ? for I know that ours was no uncom- 
 mon case. Instances of suffering virtue continuing virtue 
 still, may occur amongst the very poor who are not 
 ashamed of the heritage they have been born to ; but 
 surely not where there are what are called appearances 
 to be maintained — for then a constant falsehood is to 
 be played, which eats like a canker into the heart of all 
 concerned ; then comes envy of those without doors, and 
 cold distrust of those within — for many a fault comes out 
 in all its nakedness which might have lain hidden but 
 for this united curse of poverty and pretence, till at last 
 frailty and misfortune are so intermingled, that the 
 coolest observer would scarcely be able to say where pity 
 ought to end and blame begin. 
 
 " I have no intention of inflicting on you a history of 
 my life, which would be profitable to neither of us. I 
 merely refer to it to convince you how impossible a 
 subject I must be for these visitations of softer feeling in 
 which, whatever you, my dear Lucy, may think to the 
 contrary, a something of the fictitious must always 
 mingle — innocent perhaps — as far as any thing human 
 can be called so, but still resting their charm on what I 
 
THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 perceive to be sheer delusion. With roy way of life for 
 some years past, you are better acquainted. You are 
 aware, at least since my fourteenth year, it has been spent, 
 almost exclusively in attending on the old and infirm,, 
 and latterly in passing from one death-bed to another, as 
 the duties of relationship, and the necessities of my de- 
 pendent condition, required of me. You have pitied me, 
 and done whatever you could to lighten my task ; but 
 even you have never known (for I am not naturally 
 communicative) the real nature of the trials I had to 
 sustain. It was not, as you perhaps supposed, the mere 
 monotony of my existence that caused me to repine ; for 
 we know that, through the sweet temper and resignation 
 of the patient, a sick-room may be made the abode of 
 peace and even cheerfulness — this I can believe, though 
 I have never seen it, for, indeed, my experience of such 
 scenes has been far different. Despondency, dark and 
 hopeless, or a senseless fatalism that froze my own ener- 
 gies, and drove me to the brink of the same horrible 
 scepticism ; these were the companions I had to help me 
 in soothing the unhappy sufferers with whom my lot 
 was cast. No doubt, I have to charge my own weakness 
 with much of this — with all that made it dangerous to 
 me ; but in addition to what I had to endure from the 
 sight of bodily suffering, often of the most agonizing de- 
 scription, I had, young as I was, to struggle against 
 the fearful doctrine and example which were undermin- 
 ing my religious faith — the only hope, the only con- 
 solation, left me in these moments of bewilderment. 
 Often when I have been tasking my strength to assist 
 
TILBUEINA TO HER CONFIDANTE. 61 
 
 the nurse at tlie bedside, when I have held the medicine 
 or broth to the lips of that miserable sufferer — you know 
 to which of my poor friends I allude — I have been re- 
 warded, Lucy, with such expressions, such language, that 
 my soul has shrunk within me, and 1 have turned from 
 his pillow in disgust. And yet (for he was a man of 
 powerful intellect) his words have but too often taken 
 hold upon me, and suggested dangerous thoughts, to be 
 at one season fearlessly entertained, at another combated 
 with all the strength of my sinking soul. Were these 
 ccenes likely to afford me time or inclination for idle 
 dreams ? and can I ever lose the baneful effect they 
 have left behind them ? They have sharpened my rea- 
 son, but hardened my heart. No, Lucy, those aspirations 
 and cravings after some unknown and impossible felicity, 
 which are so common to the young and happy, are not, 
 as you would have me believe, frozen in my heart ; their 
 source I know to be altogether dried up — the fountain 
 can never flow again ! That which you call the poetry 
 of life (most pleasant no doubt to those who can cultivate 
 it) is to me unattainable; because my long vigils in these 
 chambers of sin and anguish have forced me to think 
 deeply on all manner of subjects, and to separate the 
 true from the false with a decision I could never have 
 arrived at, had the illusions of romance mingled in the 
 remotest degree with my reflections. The world seen 
 thus, with a perfectly free and impartial judgment, can 
 only appear as a place of probation or punishment — 
 never of pleasure. No creature save yourself will guess 
 the nature of my feelings, not even the man I marry. 
 
62 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 I shall fulfil as well as I am able all the duties of life, 
 and partake of its amusements ; but I can never have any 
 sympathy with the sanguine or sentimental. With 
 this peculiarity of disposition, I own I should have chosen 
 a single life if I had had courage enough to encounter 
 again that struggle with poverty and dependence which 
 has already had such a blighting effect upon my charac- 
 ter. To that I attribute all my weakness, for it has been 
 the terror and misery of my lot hitherto, and my heart 
 sickens at the prospect of tempting it again. 
 
 " I am afraid that you, with your generosity, and a 
 spirit that has known little of sorrow but the name, will 
 despise me for such reasoning — why do I call it by that 
 high-sounding name ? it is impulse only, and nothing 
 better. My resolution quails at what I might have to 
 undergo when launched into the world alone, and all 
 but friendless — it is with me a case of necessity more 
 than choice. Lucy, I may be losing your good opinion 
 by thks confession, but I am not equal to the trials of 
 life, and I thankfully shun theni when they can be 
 avoided, by accepting a worthy and far from disagreeable 
 man, who is willing to link his fate with mine, and take 
 me as his companion. That harsh discipline, which has 
 taught me to estimate the truth and nothing but the 
 truth, while it shews me his foibles and defects, saves 
 ;iie from all danger of exaggerating them unfairly, as 
 might be the case with a more imaginative person. 
 Guided by the same unerring counsellor, I estimate at 
 their real value his many estimable qualities ; and, as I 
 dream of no unbounded felicity in his company, I am 
 
TILBURINA TO HER CONFIDANTE. 63 
 
 persuaded that these solid virtues of his will be sufficieut 
 to ensure all the comfort it is possible for me to know. 
 So far from thinking my future peace endangeredj or 
 that I am making any sacrifice by engaging myself to 
 Colonel Hussey, I am sure it is he alone who will have 
 cause to complain, when he finds out with what a very 
 uninteresting person he has burthened himself ; and, 
 when I see him so well contented with the poor bargain 
 he has made, I feel quite as much disposed to pity him 
 as to congratulate myself It is not for lack of warning 
 that he is so deceived. I have told him repeatedly how it 
 stands with me ; that I am cold of heart, spiritless, 
 broken-down, a mere lifeless machine, — my representa- 
 tions only amuse without convincing him, and he 
 answers me with some fine speech about my ' charming 
 humility.' Some women would be satisfied to suppose 
 that their personal attractions had purchased them a 
 husband ; the thought is humiliating to me. I think no 
 better of myself than before he addressed me, and half 
 despise him for being so easily pleased. As he has 
 preferred me, however, and as we are to pass our lives 
 together, I can only hope that his blindness may last 
 as long as our fellowship on earth, and that he may 
 never be awakened to the knowledge of what a helpless, 
 thankless being he has taken to himself for a wife. 
 
 " If you write after Monday next, direct to me at 
 David Divet's, Esq., Etheridge, Surrey. The people to 
 whom my uncle's property devolved upon his death are 
 desirous of entering into possession immediately, and 
 having no friends of my own with whom 1 should 
 
64 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 TV'isli to remain for more than a day or two, and Colonel 
 Hussey tells me I am too young, and (of course) he adds 
 too liandsome, to be alone in lodgings, I have consented 
 to remove for the present to these friends of his, the 
 Divets. They are in some way related to the Husseys, and 
 he thinks so highly of them that I must not say to him, 
 what I need not scruple to tell you, that I feel no small 
 repugnance to the arrangement. My objection, however, 
 is of so vague a nature that I would not mention it to 
 any one but yourself ; yet it is strange how pertinaciously 
 these impressions of our early years will last, and I 
 would fain know how far people of ordinary amiability 
 feel as I do, or whether there is any thing peculiar in my 
 disposition, which induces me to lay a malicious emphasis 
 on the bad rather than the good which is reported of 
 my species. For instance, here is Colonel Hussey, a 
 person of whose judgment I think highly, strict in his 
 own principles, and not likely to be prejudiced in his 
 estimation of others. Well, why should I not believe 
 what he says of his cousin, instead of hearkening to a 
 wicked little voice which keeps whispering in my ear, 
 whenever his name is mentioned, ^ That rogue Divet ! ' — 
 ' that rascal of an attorney ! ' — ' that pettifogging mis- 
 creant, old Divet ! ' for thus it was that, in the days of 
 my childhood, I used to hear this very person described. 
 There was some lawsuit, in which my mother was con- 
 cerned, wdiich ultimately went against her — as every 
 thing connected with us was sure to do ; and this Mr. 
 Divet was engaged on the other side, and was thought 
 by us, and the few friends who took an interest in us, to 
 
TILBUFvINA TO HER CONFIDANTE. 65 
 
 have pursued some unfair advantages. The property 
 in dispute was but a few hundreds, a matter of small 
 importance to those who gained the day, but to us the 
 loss was severe indeed — the injury never forgotten. I 
 was too young at that time to enter into the particulars 
 or merits of the case ; but the grief that ensued made a 
 strong impression on me, and I may be allowed to lay 
 some stress upon this incident, as it was almost the 
 only point upon which I ever remember my unhappy 
 parents perfectly agreeing. Whatever altercation they 
 might have on things of greater or less moment, 
 on this there was no shadow of difference or dispute : 
 viz., that ^old Divet' was a ^consummate rogue,' 
 and they expressed this conviction in my almost infant 
 ears, till it became, 1 fear, quite as much an article of 
 faith to me as any clause in my catechism. There were 
 two oldish maiden sisters of my mother's, who I fancy 
 must have had a very deep interest in this unlucky suit, 
 or I should not have constantly associated the shabbiness 
 of their appearance, their faded dress, and still more 
 faded complexions, with the baleful influence of ' Lawyer 
 Divet.' A word from the Colonel would settle the ques- 
 tion of identity between his cousin and this legal phantom, 
 the object of my childish antipathy ; but the plan of my 
 going to Etheridge was hurriedly suggested at our last 
 meeting, and no communication except by letter has 
 tince then occurred between us ; and perhaps it may be 
 best to avoid any direct inquiry, for it would be very 
 painful to me to be certain that 1 was . indebted for even 
 the commonest oiSces of hospitality to one so particularly 
 
 YOL. I. ^ 
 
66 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 obnoxious to my family ; and yet, unacquainted as I am 
 with the real facts of the case, I could scarcely, on that 
 ground alone, refuse to mix with Colonel Hussey's rela- 
 tions. Had these Divets been long settled at Etheridge, 
 one might naturally have supposed them a race distinct 
 from the Divets of Yorkshire ; but from something the 
 Colonel said, I am inclined to think these cousins of his 
 are not very old inhabitants of Surrey, at least that is 
 not their native county. I console myself, however, with 
 the certainty that the present proprietor of the Etheridge 
 mansion, or cottage, or lodge, or whatever its designation 
 may be, cannot be the same person so execrated in my 
 own family ; for even then — and it is seventeen years 
 ago — he was always spoken of as ' old Divet.' I have 
 to this day a recollection of wondering what was meant 
 by his having ^ one foot in the grave ; ' the other, I am 
 happy to think, must have followed its companion long 
 airo. So all I have to do is to wrestle with this evil 
 thought amono-st others — this horror of all who bear the 
 name of Divet ; and trust that the old man's children 
 .have inherited none of their father s bad qualities, legal or 
 illegal. Let me add, in justice to these people, that as 
 Boon as Colonel Hussey's wishes were intimated, they 
 sent me a most polite invitation to make their house my 
 home as long as I should find it convenient to remain 
 there,— in fact, so cordial was the style of their letter, 
 that but for the name by which it was signed, I should 
 have accepted the proposal most willingly ; but that 
 unlucky ' Divet ' at the end spoiled all that had gone 
 before. I w^ish that name had been less peculiar ; had it 
 
TILBURINA TO HER CONFIDANTE. 67 
 
 been as common as Jones or Brown, I might never have 
 suspected their descent from the old attorney, and still 
 more do I wish that the Colonel had not a relation on 
 the face of the earth. I do not, as I have told you, fear 
 marrying him — I have quite made up my mind to that ; 
 but it annoys me to think that all his cousins, good, bad, 
 or indifferent, must then be counted as mine also— to be 
 sure we shall soon be going to India, and losing sight of 
 them pretty effectually. Alas, alas ! it is a sad reflection 
 after all, Lucy, that except yourself there will not be a 
 single creature in my native country whom it will cost 
 me a sigh to part from. But now, good-bye for the pre- 
 sent : I will write next week, and tell you how I am 
 getting on at Etheridge.— Yours, ever affectionately, 
 
 " Maria Pallisee." .i 
 
68 THE THREE CHA^'CES. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 NINE-AND-TWENTY DIVETS I 
 
 An objection to strangers, founded not so much on 
 constitutional shyness, as upon a misanthropical dis- 
 like to her species in general, this, and her strong pre- 
 judice against the name of Divet, had tinged the mind 
 of Miss Palliser with a gloomy impression of every thing 
 relating to her journey into Surrey. The beautiful 
 country through which she was passing, might, one 
 w^ould think, have done something towards softening a 
 heart prematurely hardened; but to judge by the cold, 
 unvaried expression that sat upon her fine features, it 
 had little influence over hers. The open country, glow- 
 ing beneath a cloudless sky, or the soft shade of over- 
 hanging boughs that occasionally intercepted that 
 goro-eous sunshine, and shed the charm of a sweet ob- 
 jscurity over the more secluded ways, various as were 
 the beauties of the road, they remained apparently un- 
 marked or unappreciated. No answering smile assimi- 
 lated her young face with the common rejoicings of 
 nature — no rising tear, the evidence of a holier and 
 more tender joy, moistened the eyelid which was list- 
 lessly raised to that leafy screen. An artist would have 
 
NIXE-AXD-TWENTY DIYETS ! 69 
 
 decided that the lady possessed no taste for landscape 
 painting; yet the less rural objects which diversified the 
 journey served no better to arrest her attention. There 
 were the habitations of man in their endless variety, 
 quaint little roadside inns, villages with all their rustic 
 concomitants, even the least picturesque of the country 
 towns through which she was passing, even of these, each 
 had some association connected with it — mean, ludi- 
 crous, or grotesque — sufficient surely to have excited her 
 attention. But no ; the fair and contemplative tra- 
 veller saw every thing with the same cold eye, a look 
 which partook chiefly of indifference, save when it be- 
 came tinctured with a symptom of positive disgust. 
 
 And yet it was difficult to look at Miss Palliser's 
 intellectual face, and believe that the heart which beat 
 below it was really (as she told her friend) incapable of 
 a lively and natural emotion. There is another hypo- 
 thesis which we hazard reluctantly, inasmuch as it 
 would seem to augur ill for the future connubial felicitv 
 of an excellent man and experienced officer, Colonel 
 Hussey of the Koyal Artillery ; for, taking for granted 
 that the brain of his fair intended was not wholly stulti- 
 fied, and her heart, as people say, in the right place, 
 where was that full measure of hope and bounding gra- 
 titude, of budding love and gay anticipation, which 
 should have enlivened her intelligent features, enhancing 
 seven — ten — nay, a hundred-fold the merit of each 
 passing <cene and incident ? 
 
 As the young lady's journey drew to its close, these 
 signs of a discontent more than ordinary, palpably in- 
 
TO THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 creased ; especially during the last stage, some mental 
 nausea seemed to arise at the sight of every good-looking 
 country-seat that came in view, whether such building 
 stood proudly aloof from the highway, with the imposing 
 adjuncts of semi-park and shrubberies, or looked com- 
 fortably down upon her from the verge of the road over 
 its substantial wall and iroQ gates. Either the Colonel 
 had failed to specify the situation and sort of place to 
 which he was introducing her, or, trying to do so, had 
 been deficient in his graphic detail. The house, when 
 reached at last, contradicted all her pre-conceptions, 
 being built not in the open country, but in the High- 
 street of the county town. Had it not been for the 
 unmistakeable image of her lover himself, appearing at 
 the open door as her vehicle drew up to it, she would 
 certainly have directed the driver to pass by. There, 
 however, stood her faithful friend in advance of the 
 servants, and certain members of the household seen 
 dimly in the background ; for with that delicate regard 
 to her feelings, in which he was never deficient. Colonel 
 Hussey had made a point of hurrying from London, 
 where business was then detaining him, that he might 
 personally present Miss Palliser to his relations, and thus 
 obviate the awkwardness of a first arrival amongst per- 
 sons entirely unknown to her. With any deeper repug- 
 nance on her part to a meeting with the Divets he was 
 as yet unacquainted. This unexpected rencontre proved, 
 as the Colonel intended, a very agreeable surprise, caus- 
 ing Miss Palliser to alight with an alacrity unusual to 
 her; and never, as he warmly greeted and kindly 
 
NIXE-AKD-TWENTY DIYETS ! TI 
 
 saluted her, had she felt, perhaps, so enth'ely and unre- 
 servedly glad to see him, or so nearly disposed to return 
 the kiss with which he welcomed her to Etheridge. 
 
 Colonel Hussey, by the by, was not much in the hahit 
 of kissing Miss Palliser — some people even thought him a 
 little remiss in this respect ; but the Colonel had a high 
 opinion of women, and he would have considered it a 
 very indecorous infringement on the dignity of the sex, if 
 he had offered to salute his betrothed on every frivolous 
 pretext that might present itself. Exclusive of high 
 and solemn occasions, such as birthdays, including that 
 of the reigning sovereign (but not those of her descen- 
 dants), all the greater festivals of the Calendar, and the 
 anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot (these were extras) — 
 and excepting these, we have reasons for supposing that he 
 never even attempted such a thing, taking the average 
 more than once a- week. I say " on the average ; " but I 
 have heard, though loth to vouch for a fact which it would 
 be difficult formally to substantiate, that these marks of 
 irrepressible tenderness usually took place on a Saturday 
 night. Why this particular time should have been 
 chosen remains a mystery up to the present hour ; my 
 informant on this point, though pretty confident as to 
 the fact, remaining in other respects quite as ignorant 
 as myself. Now, there is a good old glee which begins 
 by demanding soberly, " What is the properest day to 
 drink ? " but proceeds to answer the question by naming 
 in succession each day of the week as being alike adapted 
 to the purpose. It is plain that Colonel Hussey, suppos- 
 ing him to have been ever so well acquainted with that 
 
72 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 celebrated and jovial composition, could never have 
 contemplated appMng its lax principle to another 
 species of self-indulgence, much quicker in the operation 
 than the imbibing of spirituous liquors, hot or cold, and 
 often no less intoxicating. Perhaps (for that very word 
 intoxicating may afford us a clue to the Colonel's reason- 
 ing on this subject) he might have thought it too 
 dangerous an experiment to be lightly ventured on till 
 he had quite made up his mind to it. Had he been a 
 Calvinist, he might have been suspected of hurrying over 
 every description of worldly amusement on the Saturday 
 night, in order that the Sunday should be kept sacred 
 from things frivolous and unnecessary; or, supposing him 
 a Romanist, one would naturally conclude that the week's 
 abstinence was either a penance self-inflicted, or required 
 by his priest ; if of the Jewish persuasion, he certainly 
 would have restrained his feelings till the setting of his 
 Sabbath sun ; but, being none of these, the religious 
 scruples by which they might have been actuated cannot 
 apply to him. Again, a friend of mine, kindly interested 
 in a subject which he perceives to be puzzling to me, 
 and himself a little afraid of ghosts, conjectures that the 
 Colonel was possibly superstitious, and so might have 
 dreamed that it would be unlucky to kiss Miss Palliser 
 on any day but Saturday, or to omit doing it then ! 
 But my friend never saw Colonel Hussey, or such a 
 notion could scarcely have entered his head ; he could 
 not have observed that gentleman's clear grey eye, or 
 the reflecting brow which surmounted it, and have 
 associated their possessor with the sort of disposition 
 
NINE-. V:N^D-T WENT Y DIVETS ! 73 
 
 likely to be affected by omens, good or bad, winding- 
 sheets in the candle, or death-watches ticking in the 
 corner. No, we may turn and twist the subject as we 
 will, and end, if it so pleases us, by referring every thing 
 to the Colonel's " idiosyncrasy^," but round we must come 
 to the same point at last — if the thing was as it was re- 
 ported, why should it be ? Why did Colonel Hussey 
 salute Miss Palliser only of a Saturday night ? And 
 upon this question depends an after-thought, which may 
 save the preceding remarks from being classed as merely 
 an idle digression, impertinent to the Colonel and useless 
 to the reader ; for, supposing the enamoured officer to have 
 displayed in this eccentric fashion his love of order and 
 punctuality, one is tempted to speculate further, and to 
 wonder whether Miss Palliser would have written to her 
 Norfolk cousin in quite the same misanthropical strain 
 if he had now and then transgressed the rigidity of the 
 rule ? and whether earth's surface might not have worn 
 a blithesomer aspect as she passed over it ? and lastly, 
 whether even the Divets themselves, inheritors of a name 
 most abhorrent to her ears, might not have seemed a 
 remarkably good sort of a family, instead of being re- 
 garded in a spirit of cold distrust ? A guest entirely 
 unprejudiced, would undoubtedly have given them such 
 a character on first acquaintance ; and even Miss Palliser 
 was prepossessed in their favour, by the hearty greeting 
 which met her at the very entrance of their house, which, 
 while she justly attributed it to her engagement with 
 Colonel Hussey, seemed notwithstanding to evince their 
 hospitable tendencies. 
 
74 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 In the liall she was met by Mr. Divet, a gentleman 
 with a very red face, who came busthng out of the 
 drawing-room at the sound of her approach, calling as 
 he advanced upon the daughter, who was close behind 
 him and equally ready to do the honours of the house of 
 which she ofiiciated as mistress. In her the complexion 
 of the father was softened down, and the bustling liveli- 
 ness tempered to a less obtrusive activity ; but what she 
 had lost by descent in one particular, she had consider- 
 ably gained in another: her father, though far from 
 being dull of aspect, could not compete with Mrs. Barclay 
 in shrewdness of countenance. To this expression a 
 remarhably wide mouth afforded every convenient 
 facility: a smaller orifice might have been more be- 
 coming, but it would not have done half the work she 
 put upon it in the same space of time, or have done that 
 work half so well. Observe that, ye beauties who pride 
 yourselves on mouths of the buttonhole species ! Be ye 
 content with whatsoever charms lie on the surface of 
 your faces, and leave expression to the coarser-featured ; 
 or, if still ambitious in that line, and not to be deterred 
 from screwing j^our pretty little features to attain the 
 desired end, be assured that all your delicate grimacing 
 Avould be put to shame by the slightest inflection of such 
 a mouth as Mrs. George Barclay's, so was the lady 
 called. 
 
 " Now, Miss PaUiser/' said Mr. Divet after the first 
 civilities had been exchanged, offers of refreshment 
 courteously made and promptly declined, and the young 
 lady disencumbered of her travelling dress, — " Now, 
 
NINE-AND-TWENTY DIVETS ! 75 
 
 ma'm/' and he gently but determinately handed her to 
 the drawing-room door, which opened immediately upon 
 the hall, " I am going to take upon me the very great 
 pleasure of introducing you to nine-and-twenty of our 
 near relations ! " 
 
 "Nine-and-twenty Divets !" an involuntary shudder 
 passed over the fair guest he was so politely escorting. 
 True it was, the speaker was a very different person from 
 w^hat she had surmised, and she was fast losing sight of 
 that tall, spare, smooth-spoken lawyer, her favourite con- 
 ception in regard to all who bore the name of Divet, — 
 still he loas a Divet, and here, ye gods, were nine-and- 
 twenty more of them ! A glance within the large 
 apartment into which she was being ushered, was 
 enough to convince I^Iiss Palliser that the fact, disagree- 
 able as it might be, was in no degree exaggerated : she 
 could not count them on so short a notice, but had not a 
 doubt of her informant's arithmetic. 
 
 As the company were all in evening dresses, Miss 
 Palliser would have divined what was really the case, 
 that she had arrived in the midst of a large dinner-party, 
 a family feast; but, struck with the word " relations," she 
 asked herself could it mean that these people were all 
 living there as members of one household ? It was but 
 the conjecture of the moment ; for Mrs. Barclay, with a 
 beaming smile, the very essence of joy and contentment, 
 followed up her father's speech by saying, " The presence 
 of yourself and our dear cousin Benjamin is particularly 
 grateful to us to-day. Miss Palliser — this day, of all 
 others, we would not have had you absent from us on any 
 
76 THE THREE CHxiNCES. 
 
 account. Do you know, Ben," turning to Colonel Hussey, 
 "I cannot help thinking there is something more than mere 
 chance in your fixing on the tliirteentli of June to come 
 amongst us. Oh, I don't mind your incredulous look !" 
 
 " Incredulous !" cried her father; " why, it's evident — 
 it is self-evident : there can be no reasonable doubt of 
 it ! Providence is at the bottom of every thing; we all 
 acknowledge that, you know, Mrs. Mudge V and turning 
 ]-ound he appealed to somebody somewhere. " Yes, I look 
 upon it as a certainty that Providence has done it all. 
 But where's Priscilla .^ I don't see my niece Priscilla — 
 Priscilla, my dear, where are you ? " and he bustled off to 
 bring up another of his family to welcome Miss Palliser. 
 '* Yes, really," Mrs. Barclay continued, " I must venture 
 to think there must be something more than ordinary in 
 your coming to us just on what I am sure we may be 
 allowed to call a solemn as well as a joyful occasion. 
 Mayn't I, dear cousin Mudge .?" and she also appealed to 
 an elderly person standing near, who was attired in a cap 
 of a much plainer style than the generality of the 
 provincial excrescences which figured on the heads of 
 most of the married ladies present. " Don't you think, 
 ma'm, that, with all the delightful reflections we associate 
 with this day, we must still call it a solemn meeting V* 
 
 " If you do name it as such, Kezia, I will be the last 
 to say you nay ; for I find it a sweet, and a holy, 
 and a blessed thing to attend on such an occasion, 
 and to assist at the honouring of grey hairs." 
 
 '' Yes, I know we think in common on most points, 
 and especially on this. I must explain to you, Miss 
 
»T^ 
 
 NINE-AND-TWENTY DIVETS ! 7V 
 
 Palliserj that tliis gathering together of our kith and , 
 kindred (our ckan, as we shouki call it in Scotland) is 
 for the purpose of celebrating the birthday of our 
 patriarch, for so we venture to term him." 
 
 "And truly may he so be named!" sighed the old 
 lady. 
 
 "Our dear good old grandfather," pursued Mrs. 
 Barclay. " His birthday — his ninetieth anniversary ! 
 Fancv that, Miss Palliser ! have we not reason to con- 
 gratulate ourselves ? The dear old man's ninetieth 
 birthday! Yes, whatever the Colonel may say to the 
 contrary, I shall always think that there was something 
 more than ordinary in your both fixing on this day of 
 all others to come to us; for he assures me that, in naming 
 the thirteenth, he had quite forgotten what a memorable 
 lay it was for us, and all connected with our family." 
 
 Mrs. Barclay was interrupted by her cousin,, a 
 genteel-looking young woman in a widow's dress, who, 
 as she saluted Miss Palliser, took up the same strain in 
 a gentle, whining voice. " If any thing could increase 
 the fulness of our pleasure on this sweet anniversary, it 
 must be the unexpected presence of our dear Colonel 
 Hussey, and the lady we are all so anxious to be acquaint- 
 ed with. Grandpapa will be so glad to see you;" 
 and she looked into 3Iaria s face with the most confiding 
 softness — " the venerable grandpapa ! " 
 
 Miss Palliser uttered, in reply, a few low words, of 
 whose purport she bad herself but a very confused 
 notion. A growing antipathy to every member of that 
 large assembly caused her to look round for Colonel 
 
78 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 Hussey, and to perceive with pleasure that he was stand- 
 ing close beside her. But even in that quarter her 
 pleasurable expectations were to be damped ; not that 
 he was less kind or deserving of all trust and confidence, 
 but it had so happened that, from the almost isolated 
 condition in which she was living during her acquain- 
 tance with him, and the very private way in which their 
 courtship had been carried on, she had scarcely ever 
 till then seen her lover in company, much less encircled, 
 as he now appeared, by the endearing ties and enliven- 
 ing familiarities of family life, and — for the truth must 
 be told — she did not think him improved by this change 
 in his circumstances. He had wooed her almost in 
 solitude — had won her to his suit by respectful attentions 
 {very respectful, as we are aware) ; it was his calm self- 
 possessed demeanour which had attracted her esteem, 
 and she had never contemplated the possibility of his 
 manner becoming altered; but exactly in the same 
 measured step and deliberate voice in which he was 
 wont to visit her, and say, evening after evening, " Maria, 
 my love, how do you feel yourself to-day ? " — precisely 
 thus did she reckon on seeing him pass on in quiet 
 dignity, till death should end their married life, and 
 put the finishing stroke to his characteristic placidity. 
 And now to see him in the midst of these people — the 
 men so loud and boisterous, the women so pert, so 
 underbred — smiling at their jokes, parrying or returning 
 their fomiliar raillery, and answering to the name of 
 " Ben ! " — she felt as if she hardly recognised him under 
 this new and unexpected aspect. 
 
NINE-AND-TWENTY DIVETS ! 79 
 
 Slie had long been aware of many points on which 
 they were far from agreeing ; but as yet their difference 
 of opinion had never caused any diminution in her respect 
 and consideration for Colonel Hussey. Strange, inscru- 
 table workings of the human heart ! It was almost 
 with indifference that she had heard her lover avow his 
 belief of many of the most important tenets of religion, 
 the truth or beauty of which her bewildered mind had 
 ever refused to recognise ; and on political matters she 
 knew their sentiments to be diametrically opposed, the 
 Colonel being the very soul of loyalty, in the now 
 almost obsolete sense of the word, while she, under the 
 influence of her unhappy uncle, and the books of a 
 library selected by him, had imbibed certain hard, 
 revolutionary principles, and in the depths of her secret, 
 silent musings, worshipped many an historical character, 
 and many a celebrity of the Hustings or the Tribune, 
 whom he held in utter abhorrence. But their discre- 
 pancy on questions wdiich usually excite the dullest 
 intellect and the gentlest temper, had occasioned Miss 
 Palliser but little uneasiness. The more important were 
 the subjects agitated between them, so much the more 
 strenuously did she check the utterance of her own opin- 
 ions, and retire within herself, cherishing in secresy the 
 wanderings of her unbelief or the intensity of her con- 
 victions. Contented to know that her future husband 
 was in the main a good and well-intentioned person, she 
 had heard him quote many a maxim which in her heart 
 she denied and derided, without thinking at all the 
 worse of him for it ; she had even coolness and candour 
 
80 THE THREE CIIA^XES. 
 
 enough to perceive that his opinions were in such strict 
 harmony with his plain soldier-like bearing, that his 
 character would altogether have suffered — in consistency 
 at least — by his adopting opinions more consonant to her 
 own. When the slight heat of debate had gone down — 
 she never fanned it to a dangerous height — she would 
 scarcely, on calm consideration, have raised a finger to 
 have made him otherwise than he was. And now — ^just 
 because the poor man laughed when he used to be grave, 
 and met the kindly demonstrations of his friends with 
 corresponding cheerfulness — he had all at once sunk — she 
 felt that it was so — many degrees in her estimation. 
 
 We seek not to justify what may seem the idle move- 
 ments of female caprice — we may presume that the 
 governing impulse of the lady's miud was unamiable 
 enough : yet in this word '' caprice," which we use so 
 liirhtlv.how much lies hidden that never will and never can 
 come to light — how many deep-seated emotions are im- 
 plicated in its manifestation, in the sudden and apparently 
 causeless clouding of a man's brow, and the j^outing of 
 a woman's lip ! The most candid and self-discerning of 
 us never apply this vague term to oar own case ; we al- 
 ways think loe have reason good for our discontent, how- 
 ever sulky and snappish it may show itself, — not so in our 
 presumptuous judgment of our neiglibour. Forthwith 
 we pronounce Imn surly and unreasonai de — lier^ silly and 
 capricious ; but because we cannot analyze the complica- 
 tion of feelings, touching perhaps on the best as well as 
 the worst, the nobler no less than the meaner passions, 
 which often tend to ruffle the forehead of the one and 
 
NIXE-AND-TTVEXTY DIVETS ! 81 
 
 excite tlie quivering in the lip of the other. It may be 
 that he is siaiply a bear, and she a baby. T\Tiat then ? 
 the feelings of the baby may be matter of deep interest 
 to its guardian angel — and as for the bear, poor fellow ! 
 who can conjecture what he is thinking of, when he gives 
 us an unexpected roar ? 
 
 VOL. I. . Q 
 
82 THE THREE CUAXCES. 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 blixd-man's-euff. 
 
 In the course of the evening, and when, after changing 
 her dress, Miss Palliser returned to the company, she heard, 
 with a mixture of disgust and curiosity, that the elder 
 Mr. Divet was coming into the drawing-room to receive 
 the congratulations of his friends. She had hoped 
 his great age would have kept him invisible, and that, 
 while she remained at Etheridge, he might have seemed 
 to her but as a sort of myth in the family, or living 
 tradition, to be worshipped unseen, except by his very 
 nearest of kin; but ere long a slight bustle without, 
 and an air of expectation within the room, gave signals 
 of his approach. Mrs. Mudge folded her hands and pre- 
 pared to be ecstatic ; sentimental looks were exchanged, 
 and various short sentences and texts of Scripture, in al- 
 lusion to age and excellence, were bandied about between 
 other portions of the assembly. For a moment ]Miss 
 Palliser s constitutional caution deserted her, and with a 
 flashing eye she turned to speak to Colonel Hussey — to in- 
 quire if he could tell her where lay the extraordinary 
 merit of living out nearly a century ? but she found that 
 he had left her side, being gone to offer his arm to his 
 
blixd-man's-bcff. 83 
 
 venerable friend. And presently the little group ap- 
 peared; the old man with one hand on the Colonel's 
 arm, the other resting on the shoulder of his son, though 
 so slightly was his tall figure bent by years, that it 
 seemed to the un sympathizing Maria as if he availed 
 himself of their support rather for the purpose of thea- 
 trical effect than from any necessity of assistance. 
 
 Except the grey hair and wrinkles, there was little 
 about Jesse Divet to denote his uncommon longevity. 
 The hearing quick as ever, the eye, still acute and in- 
 telligent; travelled from one friend to another, recogniz- 
 ing each of the nine-and-twenty as they swarmed 
 respectfully around him, and his memory never falter- 
 ing at a name when he addressed them individually ; 
 once only excepted, when, deceived by the shortness of 
 her petticoats, he addressed Miss Anna Maria Mudge 
 for her brother Tommy— and even that single mistake 
 was concluded, by those who knew the old man best, to 
 be more ironical than real. 
 
 And now Miss Palliser, good as her memory was also 
 and but too faithful to the past, could not help con- 
 fessing that it was a striking scene ; as the old man, 
 being led to the upper end of the room, and placed in 
 his large easy-chair, sat there, the subject of apparent 
 love and veneration to his numerous and respectable- 
 looking family ; for as such, taking them in the mass, 
 they might well be accounted. Preoccupied, however, 
 with the sense of old injuries, scarcely defined yet felt to 
 be most real, the new guest lacked that impression of 
 sincerity in the whole performance, which, whether on 
 
84 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 or off the stage, alone stamps upon sucli scenes their 
 true amount of worth. 
 
 " I cannot tell you how I felt'' — it was thus she de- 
 scribed to Miss Ainsworth the events of her first evening 
 at the Divets — " to see this person, the only being, I can 
 truly affirm, towards whom I have ever felt an emotion 
 like hatred, thus worshipped (I can call it nothing less) 
 as a pattern of virtue and holiness; his entrance hailed 
 by a murmur of respectful adulation ; his relations bend- 
 ing upon him a sort of devotional gaze, some of the 
 women even shedding tears — or seemiag to do so — as 
 they brought their little children to his knees, that he 
 might bless them ; and again the word patriarch was 
 repeated, as, acting the character of family priest, the old 
 man laid his shrivelled hands on the little creatures, and 
 uttered a short prayer over them — imploring temporal 
 and spiritual blessings for ever, and that they might 
 * tread the paths of duty, and grow up replenished with 
 every grace of goodness and piety/ His eyes were raised 
 to heaven, but though the voice was devotional — any 
 one can imitate that — the eyes were not. I noticed that, 
 as they wandered over the ceiling, they gleamed with 
 much the same legal sharj)ness that had struck me on 
 his first approach ; and as, in the course of his exhorta- 
 tion, he coupled our duty to God with that towards our 
 neighbour, another voice, plainer still, seemed to whisper 
 in my ear — *that old rogue, Jesse Divet — that precious 
 scoundrel of a lawj^er ! ' and then, Lucy, as 1 watched 
 his daughter and niece, the pictures of affluence and self- 
 satisfaction, leaning over his chair, and arranging its 
 
BLIXD-:\L\>s'S BUFF. 85 
 
 soft velvet cushions, my thoughts wandered to those two 
 faded women, my poor old aunts, whom this man had 
 helped to ruin — can you wonder if I am bitter in my 
 feelings, or find my heart recoil from this house, and all 
 that it contains ? 
 
 *' I wish the Colonel had been aware of what is passing 
 in my mind ; now it is too late. Prepossessed as he is in 
 favour of his relations, it would serve no purpose to ac- 
 quaint him with my impressions ; but it is evident he 
 can have no penetration into character, or he could not 
 — I am sure he could not — like them so well. Well, for 
 one thing I am thankful, that at least there are no 
 Husseys among them ; the Colonel's connection with 
 these people being only by marriage, and really very 
 slight. But there are Barclays and Mudges in abun- 
 dance ; think of that, Lucy ! My mother was a Pelliam, 
 though a poor one, and her daughter must be cousin to 
 a ]\Iudge ! " 
 
 With these strong prejudices working within her. Miss 
 Palliser shrank from attracting the personal notice of the 
 elder Divet, whom, but for the consideration due to Colo- 
 nel Hussey, she would have shunned effectually, by resort- 
 ing to her sleeping-room, and quitting it no more that 
 night. But her position in the family rendered her too 
 prominent to be long overlooked; her lover, at least, 
 was not likely to forget her, and in his eyes it was a 
 privilege to be counted already as a daughter of the 
 house, and to be blessed amongst the rest of its children. 
 He waited, therefore, with his looks turned benignantly 
 upon her, as much as to say, " How my Maria must be 
 
86 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 enjoying a scene like this ! " till the little excitement 
 caused by Mr. Divet's entrance had subsided, the chil- 
 dren been disposed of, and the company were assuming 
 their former state of quiescence. Then, drawing near 
 her, he said, " I am longing to present you to my good 
 old friend." " No, no — not now!" she whispered, shrink- 
 ing back ; but he, utterly misinterpreting her reluctance, 
 counselled her encouragingly to discard her " amiable 
 timidity," urging that, '' where all were united in one 
 common bond of social amity, there could be no need to 
 fear." — " Fear ! SJie afraid — and afraid of old Divet ! " 
 She gave him her hand with a look of defiance ; but we 
 must conclude, with the young lady herself, that her 
 lover, with all his good qualities, was not a person of 
 quick discernment, not apt at least in the reading of 
 countenances ; for the change in hers passed wholly un- 
 perceived by him. She was still the " sweet Maria " he 
 had ever considered her, and he led her forward with an 
 air of infinite content, and much internal pride ; for he 
 felt that his choice could do him no discredit with Mr. 
 Divet, who, some sixty years ago, had enjoyed the repu- 
 tation of gallantry, and whose eyes were not grown so 
 dim but that they could discern the points of a pretty 
 woman yet. 
 
 The old man accordingly received Miss Palliser with 
 a mixture of paternal kindness and old-fashioned 
 courtesy that sat well up>on him, alluding, but not in a 
 marked or indelicate manner, to the circumstances which 
 brought her into his family ; and adding, jocosely, that 
 though he had always accounted himself " a fortunate 
 
blind-man's-buff. 87 
 
 old fellow," he was that evening more than ever con- 
 vinced of his singular good -luck ; for, unless he had lived 
 to complete his ninety-first year, he must have gone out 
 of the world without having enjoyed the great gratifica- 
 tion of seeing his dear friend and relation, Colonel 
 Hussey's intended bride. 
 
 It is difficult for a woman, under any circumstances^ 
 to remain insensible to a compliment. Greatly as Miss 
 Palliser disliked the head of the family, she was insen- 
 sibly growing a little — a very little — softened towards 
 him, as his look and manner evinced the satisfaction 
 with which he was regarding her, when the old gentle- 
 man spoiled all by adverting to her father. Thinking 
 to gratify her — for it was only natural that what had 
 seemed the height of professional atrocity to the sufferers 
 in that old lawsuit, should to him appear a common 
 transaction, all in the wav of business — he mentioned 
 having formerly, " in the good old times, " had the plea- 
 sure of Mr. Palliser's acquaintance, " w^ien you, my 
 dear, were quite a little girl. Like all old people I lose 
 my memory for daily events ; but I have still a faithful 
 remembrance of your good father, for we had some 
 transactions in common, though you, of course, were 
 too vouno; to have co2:nizance of them." 
 
 " By no means, sir," was the prompt and steady reply. 
 '- 1 have a clear recollection of the circumstances you 
 allude to. The name of Divet is familiar to me as one 
 of my earliest remembrances, for I have heard it men- 
 tioned by both my parents, as well as the Misses Pelham 
 and others of my mother's family " — and the eyes of ^liss 
 
8S THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 Palliser, wliicli had modestly sunk under tlie flatteriog 
 observation of the "Patriarch," were lifted boldly at 
 this mention of the " good old times/' and rested on his 
 with a searcliing gaze, which, in penetration and keen- 
 ness, might have vied with that of old Jesse himself, 
 when his sight was like a hawk's, and his practice of the 
 keenest description. By the time this little speech of 
 hers was concluded, they understood each other perfectly, 
 each being conscious of the mutual intelligence ; but it 
 served as additional proof to Miss Palliser, that this old 
 persecutor of the Pelhams was steeped to the very ears 
 in knavery, that he seemed vastly more amused than 
 disconcerted at the reproach her looks were intended to 
 convey : for his glance did not quail for a moment, and 
 he returned her observation with a quiet chuckle, which 
 made her hate him more than ever. 
 
 " Well, sir,'' said Colonel Hussey, as soon as his be- 
 trothed had retired a little, and an opportunity occurred 
 of his speaking unheard by more than half a dozen dear 
 relations, " and now you must tell me what you think 
 of my Maria — your candid opinion, of course." Secure 
 of a favourable reply — for he, too, had narrowly watched 
 old Jesse's countenance during the previous introduction 
 — the Colonel smiled placidly as he leaned on the broad 
 arm of Mr. Divet's chair. 
 
 " She does you credit, Ben," said the old man ; " I 
 haven't seen a finer girl for many a day. A graceful 
 carriage and a good address, too — ay ! and a will of 
 her own into the bargain, and I don't think the worse of 
 her for that either." 
 
blind-man's-buff. 89 
 
 " What, my Maria ? The meekest, gentlest being 
 upon earth, sir ! If she has a fault, it is the being too 
 complying, and almost too easily led by those whose 
 opinion she values." 
 
 " Ha ! and so that's the case," rejoined the other, with 
 an incredulity lying perdue in every deep-set wrinkle, that 
 even the Colonel could not misinterpret. " Too much 
 of the dove, is she, pretty dear ? Y>^ell, do you knovv^, 
 Benjamin, I in my ignorance took it to be rather the 
 other way — humph !" and he peered with sarcastic good- 
 humour into Colonel Hussey's face. " But you, of course, 
 cannot be mistaken on such a point, and it must be I 
 that am out of my reckoning — eh. Colonel ? " 
 
 " Why, considering how much better I am acquainted 
 with the lady, sir," the Colonel began with some 
 pique, while his old friend went on in the same jeering 
 tone — 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure ! What should I know about 
 it, a poor drivelling old fellow, without eyesight or 
 understanding left? Ha, ha! and you, Benjamin — you 
 are a lover ! Eh, my dear ? Ha, ha, ha ! Such knowing 
 chaps these gentlemen in love — up to every thing, eh ? 
 Isn't it so, cousin Sally, and hasn't it been so from 
 Samson downwards to the present moment .?" 
 
 The person appealed to by Mr. Divet was a vulgar 
 but sagacious-looking old woman, v/ho crossed the room 
 as he was speaking, munching a huge piece of cake, and 
 talking with her mouth full. As she caught the sound 
 of her name, Mrs. Sarah Barclay stopped short, and, 
 setting her arms akimbo, replied to her venerable 
 
90 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 cousin in these unceremonious terms, ^^ What's that you 
 say, yon old scapegrace?" 
 
 *' We are talking about the tender passion," said old 
 Divet, in a low mocking voice. " Lovers are never made 
 fools of by a pretty face ; such things are quite unknown, 
 ha, ha! They are all such sharp dogs, a' n't they, 
 Sally?" 
 
 Now the Colonel tried to join frankly in the laugh 
 that was raised at his expense, and succeeded on the 
 whole tolerably well ; but he said in his heart, that he had 
 never seen the poor old gentleman display such evident 
 signs of senility as he was doing that evening, and he 
 hoped that, if Mr. Divet loas becoming positively childish, 
 the family would manage to keep him in his own apart- 
 ment, and prevent his degenerating into a public 
 nuisance. But the Colonel had a powerful ally in the 
 person of Mrs. Sarah, or cousin Sally, as she was com- 
 monly called in the family. Facing round upon the 
 patriarch, and putting another piece of cake into her 
 mouth, she commenced her attack upon him : — " And 
 what business has an old worn-out scarecrow like you to 
 give your opinion on love matters, I should like to know? 
 Tender passion, indeed ! Why, let me see ! on a moderate 
 reckoning, it must be sixty years at least since jow 
 knew any thing of the matter. No, no. Master Divet, 
 leave that sort of thing to the Colonel, and Tom 
 IMudge, and the rest of the youDg chaps, not forgetting 
 Ned Barclay here ; " and she pointed to a very ancient 
 gentleman, who, from the vacant laugh with which he 
 applauded her jokes, seemed fast approaching that 
 
blind-man's-buff. 91 
 
 second infancy which the Colonel imputed to old Divet, 
 but of which his ninety years in fact shewed not a single 
 trace. " Ah ! you may snigger as much as you please, 
 ]\Iaster Jesse ; but Ned's a chicken compared to you^ for 
 the young thing was only sixty-nine last birthday, and 
 for that matter a deuced deal more harmless than you 
 ever were, or ever will be ; for, though he tuas articled to 
 a lawyer, he ran away, as an honest boy should do, before 
 he had served out half his time. Didn't you, cousin 
 Neddy ? and I honour you for it, too. No, no ! he gave 
 you all the slip, above and below stairs too, and you may 
 take your davy upon it that he sleeps all the sounder 
 for that ; while you are tossing and tumbling upon 
 your bed, soft as it is, counting up how many pockets 
 you have helped to pick in the course of the last cen- 
 tury, and how many widows and orphans you have made 
 a meal of, just as I swallow this bit of plum-cake. I 
 say, you old shark of an attorney, do you hear what I am 
 telling you .?" 
 
 The old man held up his long skeleton fingers as if to 
 crave quarter. " I should be mighty hard of hearing if 
 I did not," he replied. " Why, you old virago, do you 
 take me to be as deaf as Manley Frere, that you hallo in 
 my ear at such a rate .^" 
 
 ^^Ah, that poor young fellow!"' said Mrs. Sally, 
 changing her tone and looking round her. ^^ Where has 
 lie hid himself, I wonder ? I have hardly seen him all 
 day long." 
 
 " His spirits are by no means what we could wish 
 them to be," Mrs. George Barclay chimed in, desirous 
 
92 THE THREE CH.^'CES. 
 
 of turning tlie discourse into a more decorous cliannel ; 
 for though cousin Sally, with a will determined in the 
 moral, but zwuletermined in the legal sense of the word, 
 was licensed to say what she chose amongst the relations 
 who knew her peculiarities and the length of her purse, 
 her unbridled vulgarity became very painful to the 
 daughters of the house whenever there was a stranger 
 in company. Colonel Hussey, who had known the old 
 lady all his life, understood and tolerated her ways, but 
 she was a novelty to his bride-elect ; so the ladies, con- 
 scious that Miss Palliser was within hearing, followed 
 up the subject of " poor Mr. Frere " as one of the safest 
 they could hit upon. "We wished him to join us, for 
 we are all very anxious about him, but he is hardly 
 equal to general society j^et. He made a point, how- 
 ever, of seeing grandpapa this morning to congratulate 
 him ; and very charmingly he expressed himself, poor 
 man ! Did he not, Priscilla .^" 
 
 "Sweetly, sweetly!" murmured the widow, "but he 
 does every thing well." 
 
 "Yes — poor Mr. Frere!" said her grandfather, in a 
 tone of mock commiseration, screwing his mouth on 
 one side, and fixing the Colonel with his deep-set eyes. 
 " A sad tale that love story of his ! Have you heard it, 
 Benjamin ? have they told it j^ou, eh, my dear? First 
 he loses his hearing, and then he loses — ha, ha, poor 
 young fellow ! — he loses his sweetheart ! He has been 
 jilted," jerking out the word with most provoking 
 emphasis — "jilted. Colonel, do you hear > Lovers never 
 are at fault, we know ; yes, we all know what cunning 
 
blind-man's-buff. 93 
 
 rogues they are, every one of them ! Yet somehow it 
 happened, you see, that poor deaf Manley Frere was for 
 once an exception to the golden rule/' and all who were 
 gathered round the old man's chair joined in the laugh 
 with which he finished sj)ealving. ■ 
 
 Colonel Hussey also forced a smile, though really 
 feeling half-choked with rage, and only observed, as he 
 walked off to join his betrothed, " Never fear, sir ; when- 
 ever I am afflicted like your unfortunate friend, I will 
 expect to share his fate in other respects ; but till then 
 I shall make myself quite easy." 
 
 '^ Is she mad ?" inquired Miss Palliser as the Colonel 
 ap[)roached her; for such a specimen as Mrs. Sarah 
 Barclay had never fallen in her way before, and she did 
 not know what to make of it. " Is that old lady quite in 
 her right senses ?" 
 
 " It's my firm belief, jMaria. that they are all mad 
 together!" replied the Colonel waspishly; "and, at all 
 events, Bedlam would be the fittest place for that old 
 woman. She grows insufferable ! How the family can 
 endure her passes my conception." 
 
 ^' Does it ? " said somebody who overheard him. '' I 
 am surprised at that." 
 
 " Well, George," replied the Colonel, " if I do guess 
 the reason she is tolerated, it does not increase my respect 
 for her, or for those who encourage such a violation of 
 decorum." 
 
 The person to whom Colonel Hussey was speaking 
 was a young man of a sickly though not ungenteel ap- 
 pearance, who for upwards of an hour had been leaning 
 
94 THE THREE CH.A^sCES. 
 
 listlessly against tlie chimney-piece, without taking the 
 smallest apparent interest in what was going forward. 
 Shortly after Miss Palliser's entrance, he had been men- 
 tioned to her as the husband of Mrs. George Barclay, 
 somewhat to Maria's surprise, as he was evidently that 
 lady's junior by some years. 
 
 ^•' I should not recommend her to Miss Palliser or any 
 other young lady as a model in point of manners," he 
 observed languidly; " but I can't consent to your shutting 
 up cousin Sally in a public or a private asylum just yet. 
 Do what you will with the rest of my relations, but 
 I stand up for her ; she's rather a favourite of mine," 
 and, yawning slightly, Mr. Barclay put his hands into his 
 pockets and moved leisurely away. 
 
 " Tha,t is rather an odd person, too, is he not ? " asked 
 Miss Palliser. 
 
 " Ah — poor young man ! " replied the Colonel, still 
 speaking with some irritation; for, like many quiet people. 
 Miss Palliser's lover Avhen once excited did not easily 
 recover his good-humour. " Yes — he is peculiar, as 
 you say, and good reason he has for being so ! This is 
 a sad, sad world we are placed in, my dear girl, and, as 
 we wander through its thorny ways, we are doomed to 
 encounter many a creature ruined by circumstances, and 
 many an aching heart which, but for the misconduct 
 of others, might have been the abode of peace and 
 happiness ! " saying which, the Colonel slipped Maria's 
 arm under his, and took a turn or two about that end 
 of the room which was farthest from the position of the 
 patriarch and his particular audience ; the meditative 
 
BLIND-MAJS^'S-BUFF. 95 
 
 promenade embracing by degrees the hall beyond the 
 drawing-rcom, that portion of the house being by com- 
 parison cool and empty, and also still more remote from 
 the venerable individual above mentioned. 
 
 Miss Palliser and the colonel of artillery had been so 
 accustomed in the course of their courtship to fall into a 
 moralizing strain, that she felt no sort of surprise at the 
 style in which he was now entertaining her. It chimed 
 in aptly enough with her own reflections, and reminded 
 her of old times — not the " good old times ; " she left that 
 epithet to the senior Divet : old or new, the times had 
 never been good to her, poor thing ! So now it occurred 
 to her as perfectly natural that, in choosing a topic 
 wherewith to beguile the fleeting hours, and send her to 
 bed in a fitting frame of mind, the Colonel should have 
 hit upon a piece of family history of the gloomiest and 
 most lamentable character. We may briefly relate the 
 story, which he enlarged upon at greater length ; viz., 
 that this George Barclay, who had for some years been 
 husband to Mr. David Divet's eldest daughter, had been 
 originally attached to another of his cousins (for the 
 sake of the romance, which should if possible adhere to 
 an afiair of true love, we will add that the fair relative 
 in question was a Barclay and not a Mudge), and as 
 long as he seemed likely to remain a poor man all his 
 life, the attachment met with no discouragement from 
 the friends on either side. 
 
 In an evil hour, however, young Barclay quitted the 
 
 'neighbourhood of his beloved to seek a fortune ; which, 
 
 mi happily for his own good, he found, as it were, ready 
 
96 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 made for liim. In those days his manners were gentle- 
 manlike and prepossessing, and the merchant with whom 
 he was placed took so great a fancy to him, that, being 
 childless, he adopted him as his son, and, dying a few 
 years afterwards, left him in possession of a handsome 
 independence. But when the young man returned to 
 his native town, and claimed the hand of his cousin 
 Grace, he found her prejudiced against him, and on the 
 eve of marriage with another — a rich man, but old 
 enough to have been her father. 
 
 " Turn your head a little," said the Colonel as he 
 came to this part of his story, " and you will see the 
 person I allude to. There, to the right — that unwieldy 
 figure with the bloated face and coarse features, who sits 
 with his foot upon a stool, for he was a martyr to the 
 gout when the poor girl married him." 
 
 " He has been my particular aversion ever since I 
 entered the room," was Maria's rejoinder. " It is his 
 wife, I suppose, who sits near him ? She is pretty still, 
 and the sullenness of her expression is easily accounted 
 for with such a companion by her side. But what 
 could induce her to sacrifice herself to such a man .? " 
 
 " Ah ! there lies the mystery, Maria ;. between our- 
 selves," and the narrator of this disagreeable piece of 
 family history subdued his voice as he continued it, 
 " I more than suspect our venerable friend in the easy- 
 chair there, of not being quite irreproachable with regard 
 to this young couple. From some pretty broad hints 
 which have occasionally fallen from IMrs. Sarah (with 
 all her oddnesses she is an opeu-hearted person and 
 
BLIND-MAN S-BUFF. 97 
 
 detests underhand measures), and from what has escaped 
 her at various times, I cannot help fearing that some 
 very questionable means were resorted to, to separate 
 Grace Barclay and poor George. But, however that 
 might be, the sacrifice ivas completed, and he, irritated 
 by what he was persuaded to believe a mere heartless 
 desertion on the part of his first love, gave way to that 
 foolish spirit of bravado which so often possesses people 
 under trials of this description, and so the affair ended 
 by his rushing into matrimony with his cousin, Kezia 
 Divet. The truth is, it was not thought desirable that 
 his fortune should go out of the family, and Kezia had 
 already passed the prime of her youth, and was naturally 
 anxious for an establishment. Mrs. George, though 
 she never had the beauty of Grace, has far more ability, 
 and at first seemed to be acquiring considerable influence 
 over her young husband ; but this did not last long. 
 Whether he simply grew tired of a quiet life, or dis- 
 covered (which I suspect to be the case) that some 
 unjustifiable deception had been practised to dispose of 
 him and his ill-fated riches, the end of it was that he 
 grew reckless, fell into all manner of bad courses, took 
 to horse-racing — gambling — drinking, and I know not 
 what besides ; and now, having ruined his constitution 
 and run through every penny he could call his own, he 
 is living as a dependent pauper, you may call it, upon 
 his wife's property and the hospitality of her family. 
 Poor George ! I believe I am the only one beside thafc 
 wonder of yours, cousin Sally, who has any compassion 
 for him; but pity him I do most sincerely. There he is, 
 
 VOL. I. j£ 
 
98 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 broken in spirit, soured in temper, too listless to exert 
 liimself, or attempt a more independent course of life, 
 yet with enough sensibility left him still to feel the 
 degradation of his condition. Living amongst a set of 
 thriving relations, the one black sheep of the fold ; and 
 yet, to my thinking, like another fallen creature de- 
 scribed in a certain proverb, not altogether so black, poor 
 fellow ! as it is the fashion to paint him." 
 
 Miss Palliser listened attentively to a piece of private 
 history which served to justify her almost instinctive 
 repugnance to the family with whom she saw herself for 
 the present associated. Nor was this anecdote, though 
 perhaps the most important, the only one to which 
 Colonel Hussey treated her. 
 
 Passing in and out of the drawing-room as they 
 promenaded the length of the ground-floor, and availing 
 themselves of the change of atmosphere afforded by the 
 hall and adjacent parlours, the Colonel could conve- 
 niently illustrate his facts by pointing out to her special 
 notice the persons and parties to whom they referred. 
 
 " There, Maria, you see that little man in the white 
 waistcoat, and the attempt at a moustache — horrid taste 
 at all times in a civilian ! " 
 
 " Yes, as unpleasant-looking as the lady in blue satin, 
 with whom he is laughing so vociferously — Is she his 
 wife r' 
 
 " His wife !" said the Colonel with a shrug. " No, no 
 — it is not often he and his wife appear in such close con.- 
 j unction. We must look for the lady — the mistress of 
 his house and the mother of liis children (here was 
 
blind-man's-buff. 99 
 
 another half-suppressed sneer) in quite an opposite 
 corner of the room, I fancy. Yes, I thought so ; there 
 she sits, half-shaded by the window-curtain, and Joseph 
 Mudge in close proximity. Captain Mudge, as they call 
 him. Nothing but the retired master of an Indiaman, 
 or some such thing, and he persists in keeping the title 
 of captain !" 
 
 " Is it wrong, then ? " asked Miss Palliser, who was 
 wholly ignorant of professional niceties, and had little 
 anxiety to be better informed ; though this was likely, 
 nevertheless, to be shortly the case, supposing her 
 inclined to attend to the elaborate exposition of naval 
 and military etiquette into which the queen's officer 
 immediately entered. But, ere he had fairly embarked 
 on the subject, a shrill maternal voice exclaimed, " Oh, 
 Colonel Hussey, for goodness' sake be careful of Wilhel- 
 mina !" and a lady rushed forward to extricate a four- 
 years' old Mudge, which had entangled itself between 
 the officer's legs and the flowing drapery of his mistress. 
 " My child — my precious poppet ! has the naughty man 
 hurt it.?" 
 
 Of course the hint was not lost upon the " precious 
 poppet," which instantly set up such a howling as caused 
 the Colonel to remark that, in Ms opinion, " the little 
 creature should have been put to bed at least two hours 
 ago," and, though the child's mama did not happen to 
 overhear the observation, its maternal aunt did ; and 
 from that moment may be educed the leading motive 
 which caused this portion of the Mudge connection to be 
 the only branch of Colonel Hussey 's family that was 
 
100 THE THREE CHA^^CES. 
 
 ever known to impugn, in the slightest degree, his 
 talents and conduct as an officer, and his manners as a 
 gentleman. 
 
 . This trifling incident did not tend to the restoration 
 of the Colonel's equanimity ; so that his strictures on the 
 company in the drawing-room grew not a whit more 
 lenient than heretofore. Miss Palliser, happening to 
 notice approvingly the dress and appearance of one 
 of the ladies, he repeated her remark with considerable 
 irony. 
 
 '' Good looking ? Well dressed ? What, Mrs. Philip 
 Barclay ? Oh, no doubt of that ! Mrs. Philip is a 
 person who will contrive to dress well under all possible 
 circumstances. She and her little ones form, as you say, 
 quite a picturesque group. And yet you would hardly 
 suspect, Maria, with all their lace and frippery, that that 
 branch of the Barclays has been twice on the very brink 
 of bankruptcy, only kept out of the gazette by the help 
 and exertions of the Divets.'* 
 
 " Your friends, then, are not incapable of a kind action 
 sometimes ? " 
 
 '^ Incapable ! Very far from it, I assure you ; they 
 are noted for their friendliness and liberality, and the 
 Philip Barclays have every cause to be grateful ; for I 
 have never given credit to a word that was whispered 
 on that occasion — I know our good friends here too 
 well.'^ 
 
 Miss Palliser looked up inquiringly. " Why, I have 
 heard it hinted," and the Colonel sank his voice still lower, 
 " that the means employed to extricate them from their 
 
blind-man's-buff. 101 
 
 embarrassmeuts, bordered rather more on usury than one 
 likes to think of amongst relations, so that they are now 
 bound hand and foot, as one may say, to the Divets. 
 But I beg your pardon, you were asking some ques- 
 tions ? " 
 
 " I only wanted to know the name of that man in 
 spectacles, who is playing so good-naturedly with the 
 children ? There is something pleasant in his coun- 
 tenance, plain as it is." 
 
 " That man ? You don't mean Betsford Mudge ? 
 Nay, now you have picked out a fine specimen ! Seri- 
 ously, Maria, I do not imagine that that person goes 
 to bed sober five times in the course of the twelvemonth ; 
 and it is whispered by those who know him best, that 
 in these insane moments he has even been guilty of 
 raising his hand against that poor little meek wife 
 of his, who looks as if his excesses were killing her by 
 inches." 
 
 Miss Palliser abstained from praising any other of 
 the Colonel's relations. A heavy weight was stealing 
 over spirits that were seldom very light ; and when they 
 had gained once more the safe locality of the hall, where 
 few but the servants were passing, and they were 
 at liberty to converse with freedom, she stopped, and 
 looking sadly and with something like reproach into her 
 lover's face, said, " This is a shocking house to which you 
 have brought me ! " 
 
 He repeated her words in the utmost surprise. " Good 
 Heavens, my dear girl, what do you mean ? A shocking 
 house, Maria i " 
 
102 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 " Yes," she replied. " I call it dreadful ! With all 
 the wicked passions and propensities which you have 
 been describing lurking in every corner of it — under the 
 mask, too, of family affection. Think what an amount 
 of hypocrisy, what sinful thoughts, must be working in 
 these human hearts around us. Oh, Colonel, must I stay 
 here ? I would rather live an existence the most lonely 
 — a thousand times rather dwell in a desert, than with 
 such people as these. I feel as if the very air I breathe 
 was contaminated by them. Oh, let me, I entreat you — 
 let me go somewhere else ! " 
 
 The Colonel stared at the fair speaker, and then around 
 the walls of that substantial residence, in ludicrous 
 perplexity ; for, influenced by a secret irritability not very 
 usual to him, and of which he was himself quite uncon- 
 scious, he had gone on indulging in scandalous anecdotes, 
 without once regarding the impression they were calcu- 
 lated to produce on a high-minded and singularly 
 unsophisticated person like Miss Palliser. 
 
 Foolish man ! Was it not her rigid sense of propriety 
 — her unswerving integrity of principle — her great 
 superiority, in short, to the usual failings of her sex 
 and age, that had won for her his respect and affection ? 
 What, then, could have possessed him to run directly 
 counter to all these excellent perceptions, and, by way of 
 initiating her into the frailties of society, exemplify 
 them from the conduct of his nearest friends and 
 connections. 
 
 Let this mistake of Colonel Hussey's serve as a warn- 
 ing to " persons about to marry," that they be not 
 
blind-man's-buff. 103 
 
 unnecessarily communicative before the performance of 
 the ceremony which unites them. When once you are 
 secure that the prize is your own for life, that for the 
 future there can be no receding, no outlet of escape ; but 
 that feelings, hopes, wishes, sympathies, and antipathies, 
 are all merged in the mysterious unity of wedlock — then, 
 and not till then, may you safely unlock the treasure of 
 your confidence, and pour forth freely all the dis- 
 agreeable information you have it in your power to 
 bestow. 
 
 Is it not recognized as one of the great characteristics of 
 married life, that he shall possess no secret apart from lier^ 
 nor she harbour a thought concealed from him f This, 
 therefore, is especially your time for diving into family 
 affairs, and with affectionate emulation ^' shewing up " 
 your mutual friends and relatives, exposing all their 
 imperfections, anatomizing their best qualities, and 
 recalling every scandalous report concerning them, till 
 the pleasant form of respectability they have hitherto 
 worn vanishes for ever from your enlightened vision. 
 You and your amiable partner, having now become one 
 and indivisible, the gloss of sentiment, or the scruple of 
 delicacy, which threw a graceful charm over the days of 
 courtship, may be lightly brushed away by the first 
 gossiping inclination which seizes you. 
 
 But it still wanted some weeks of the happy period 
 when Colonel Hussey's tongue might prudently be 
 unloosed, and suffered to wag at discretion ; too late he 
 perceived the error he had committed, and set himself to 
 repair it as well as be was able. He began therefore to 
 
104 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 praise where lie had so recently depreciated ; in the very 
 face of these dangerous revelations, he declared that a 
 more excellent and honourable society than the Divets — 
 his cousins the Divets — and in fact their remotest connec- 
 tions, could scarcely be discovered far or near. Did she 
 believe that, unless he had the highest opinion of them, 
 he would consign her to their care ? her, the treasure of 
 his existence ! But no, it was no fault of the Divets, or 
 the race Divetical, nor even of himself, in mentioning 
 f^^imily affairs that had disturbed his Maria ; it w^as solely 
 the exquisite purity of her own sweet nature which was 
 causing her to shiink from the slightest suspicion of evil. 
 To him individually, the Colonel added, such a beautiful 
 trait in her disposition was inestimable ; for it afforded 
 another invincible proof of her having been formed 
 expressly for him, and him alone. 
 
 Nevertheless the Colonel mixing, with a little formality 
 peculiar to him, the lecturer with the lover, admonished 
 his Maria, that she must not in her guileless simplicity 
 go forth into a naughty world, picturing it to herself as 
 a virtuous Paradise. 
 
 The young lady forced a melancholy smile at this. 
 ^^ She fancy it a Paradise, forsooth!" — but she said 
 nothing, and her well-meaning companion went pros* 
 ing on. 
 
 A more intimate acquaintance with life would con- 
 vince her that the Divets, so fir from being unfavourable 
 specimens of humanity, were nothing less than shining 
 examples to society in general. In every large social meet- 
 ing some member will be found less worthy than others — 
 
blind-man's-buff. 105 
 
 some portion of the community who, for their idleness, 
 obstinacy, or recklessness, seem born only to annoy the 
 rest. " Look where we will," said he, ^' such instances 
 are always presenting themselves, and, as for the family 
 here, you may consider them remarkably free from these 
 blemishes ; and in themselves and in their own household 
 circle, believe me, my love, you will find them every 
 thing you can desire — high in their intellectual tastes, 
 and most scrupulous in their moral principles — setting 
 aside, of course, those frailties which are common to all 
 of us, and incidental to humanity in general." 
 
 Miss Palliser interrupted him with a warmth unusual 
 to her — '' And is it thus you encourage me ? am I to 
 content myself with the bad qualities of one portion of 
 societv, bv beino; told that all others are worse still ? and 
 that, if these people are coarse, vain, or vicious, they are 
 patterns of perfection compared to what I shall meet 
 elsewhere ? Oh, Colonel Hussey, what a world am I 
 entering ! and how are tve, surrounded by all that is base, 
 to shape our own course rightly, or keep ourselves from 
 the corruption I see around me, and hear of every 
 
 where ? " 
 
 The C'olonel grew seriously embarrassed ; for, added 
 to the awkward dilemma (morally speaking) in which he 
 liad placed himself, he found that he and his high- 
 minded Maria were getting sadly in the way of the ser- 
 vants, a procession of whom, headed by Dawkins the 
 butler (that individual Dawkins, who, being one of the 
 best-dressed and best-looking men she had yet en- 
 countered, had been mistaken by Miss Palliser for an 
 
106 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 uncle of tlie Colonel's), came advancing in admirable 
 order to sustain with light supplies the sinking powers 
 of the company, and enable them to survive the hours 
 intervening between the handsome dinner wliich they 
 had already eaten, and the supper which was to crown 
 the festivities of that glorious commemoration. The 
 Colonel — not aware of their approach, and turning rather 
 suddenly round, so as to face his beloved, and enforce 
 his reasoning with the more persuasive eloquence of 
 eyes — came into actual concussion with one of these 
 large trays, laden with wine and steaming negus, the 
 whole succession of which, including the temper of Mr. 
 Dawkins, were in consequence seriously endangered. 
 The very precision of step and distance observed by the 
 advancing train, and which the Colonel as a military 
 man was bound to approve, served to increase the effect 
 of the concussion, and communicate it like an electric 
 shock from first to last ! 
 
 As full against Dawkins came the Colonel, against 
 him came John the footman, and against John came 
 Abraham the groom (doing duty for the nonce in doors), 
 and being shoved to and fro at the will of the regular 
 household troops, and the auxiliary corps of waiters. 
 With a tremendous crash down fell half a dozen jelly 
 glasses intrusted to his clumsy hands ; and Dawkins, 
 irascible by nature, and fancying the accident worse 
 than it proved on calm investigation, was incautious 
 enough to utter an oath, so loud as to reach the ears 
 of Colonel Hussey's fair mistress. 
 
 The unluckly Colonel! Every thing that evening 
 
blind-man's-buff. 107 
 
 went against him ; for as the " D — n it, Abraham, what 
 are you after, sir ? " — (the butler dared not sware at the 
 real offender, so vented all his wrath upon the stable- 
 boy.) Ko sooner did Miss Palliser hear this than she 
 turned upon her lover a glance of bitter meaning, and 
 said — '' Even the servants in this house are muttering 
 oaths and curses ! " 
 
 We can scarcely blame the Colonel if at this point 
 his patience almost failed him. 
 
 " Nay, nay, Maria," he began, '^ this is being too par- 
 ticular. Even the very best of men, my dearest girl, 
 may be betrayed unawares into a — or — in short, a ' D— n 
 it.' I don't mean to defend the custom, of course, cer- 
 tainly not as a habit, but I have known the most correct 
 men and distinguished officers — (No wine, I thank you ;") 
 for the tray-bearers, by way perhaps of covering their 
 disgrace, persisted in pressing their various refreshments 
 on the couple that had occasioned it. " Making every 
 allowance," the Colonel proceeded, " for the purity of your 
 sentiments, and then — (Punch? no, not any punch ;) and 
 with all my respect (No, I thank you, Dawkins) for 
 the delicacy which characterizes (Not at present John) 
 your admirable conduct ; yet my love you must excuse 
 me for saying that (I never eat jellies, and blancmange 
 is my aversion) if we are to live like other people, and 
 not as monks and hermits (Phoo, phoo, Abraham, off 
 with you, my man !) Come, Maria, let us effect a retreat 
 into the breakfast-room." 
 
 But even as the Colonel spake, his purpose was checked 
 by the approach of another procession, superior in 
 
1C8 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 dignify, thongli less in number. The Patriarch, still 
 reverently supported by his son and grand-daughter, 
 was crossing the hall on the way to his ovra apartments, 
 which lay on the ground floor ; and the Colonel, who 
 could do no less than come forward to bid the old 
 gentleman '*' good-night/' was saluted by him in a man- 
 ner singularly inopportune. 
 
 " What, still billing and cooing — eh, Colonel ? I left 
 the young ones in the drawing-room beginning a merry 
 old game, and here I find you two playing at one still 
 older — ay, older by many a long year ; and a game that 
 will outlive Blind-man's-buff and Puss-in-the-corner, or 
 I am much mistaken. But never blush about the matter, 
 my dears ; make the best of your time. Such moments 
 as you are enjoying now are the bright spots in the 
 chequered lives of us poor mortals ; and believe me, 
 young people, you will dearly love to look back upon 
 them when you shall come to be as old and foolish as I 
 am." 
 
 It was said in so kind and even feeling a tone, and the 
 old lawyer looked so benevolently upon the lovers as he 
 thus counselled them, that Colonel Hussey, though con- 
 scious how ill such remarks applied to himself and his 
 betrothed mistress just at that particular juncture, sup- 
 pressed every outward sign of vexation, and made his 
 old friend some equally civil reply. 
 
 " Yes, Benjamin," the other proceeded as they moved 
 slowly on together — '^ I have been giving, as I flatter 
 myself, some excellent advice to ths young people — our 
 young cousins there ; and, as it agrees pretty well with 
 
BLIXD-MANS-BUFF. 109 
 
 their inclinations, I dare say tliey will not be tardy in 
 following it." 
 
 " Only think of our dear grandpapa turning matcli- 
 maker at his time of life \" said the grandniece with the 
 whining voice. 
 
 " He cannot take up a fairer trade, I am sure/' wiis 
 the Colonel's courteous answer, quite forgetting, as wo 
 may suppose, all that he had just been telling Miss 
 Palliser touching the old gentleman's doings in that 
 line. 
 
 " Why," said the Patriarch, slily, " according to cousin 
 Sally, you know it is at least as honest as the business I 
 have given up," and he chuckled over the joke with 
 what seemed to Miss Palliser an expression of successful 
 knavery. " But you of all the party are bound to second 
 me, Colonel, as it is your own example I have been up- 
 holding for their benefit. I can tell you I have left be- 
 hind me two or three very promising cases — a couple or 
 two who, to judge by appearances, are likely soon to 
 tread in your honourable footsteps — ha, ha !" 
 
 " You are not afraid, then, sir, of the responsibilities 
 attaching to your new profession ?" 
 
 " Not at all — not in the least, Benjamin. Marriage, 
 it is well known, is a lottery altogetlier. We do tlie 
 best we can to secure prizes for our friends, the rest we 
 humbly leave to Providence. If the chances run adverse 
 (such things will happen sometimes), and they draw 
 blanks instead, the fault is none of ours ; we have done 
 our best, and they have no worse a fate than many 
 of their neighbours. No, no ; I must not be put off from 
 
110 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 ray new vocation. There are two or three couple I must 
 bring together before I bid you all a last goocl-night. 
 And in the meanwhile" — and the old man, pausing at 
 the entrance of his own apartment, looked round with a 
 sly and jocund expression which was peculiar to him. 
 " In the meanwhile, my dears, shall I tell you what I 
 mean to do by way of practice— just to get my hand in, 
 you know — eh ? " 
 
 " Take care, sir ! " said Mrs. Barclay ; " for I guess, by 
 the sparkle of your eyes, that you are meditating mis- 
 chief." 
 
 " Mischief, Madam Kezia .? I defy you to prove it ! 
 Where lies the mischief, 1 should like to know, of help- 
 ing a lame dog over a stile, when the poor animal has 
 not a leg left to do his own work with .? And we can't but 
 see that our poor young friend above stairs is very much 
 in that predicament. And so what say you, Mrs. G-eorge — 
 you who are so well versed in the sweets of matrimony, 
 eh?" and here was a sort of jocose sneer, that (knowing all 
 she now did) caused Miss Palliser to shudder. '' Won't 
 you help me to pick out a good wife for poor ]\Ianley 
 Frere ? Some good, kind, little lady to comfort him, and 
 share all his troubles, eh ? — and also his thousands per 
 annum — ha, ha, ha ! A charitable project, my children ; 
 and charity begins at home, you know." 
 
 This playful proposal of their venerable sire took the 
 fancy of all present, and of none more than ^Ir. Dand 
 Divet, his immediate descendant, who applauded the idea 
 even to the point of clapping and crying " bravo ;" while 
 Mrs. George, though she first looked round to be sure that 
 
blind-man's-buff. Ill 
 
 tlie servants were not within bearin^^, added, that if any 
 thing could reconcile her to interfering in such an im- 
 portant matter, it would be in favour of a case like that 
 of their poor dear friend. " It is so peculiar ! Quite a 
 romance, Miss Palliser. I am sure, like all who know 
 him, you will be deeply interested in Llr. Frere." 
 
 " I don't know, I am sure," was the cold reply : " I 
 am not easily interested in strangers;" for the truth is, 
 that the mere accident of a Divet advocating the cause 
 of any particular person or thing, was enough at once 
 to prejudice Maria against it. 
 
 " Oh, we are all so partial to him ! " It was the fair 
 widow who now spoke ; but when her grandfather re- 
 commended her trying to comfort their guest herself, 
 he was checked by a sentimental sigh, and a request 
 that he would remember her '^ weeds." 
 
 '' True, true," he said kindly ; " I spoke unadvisedly. 
 Old people have their thoughtless moments as well as 
 the young. Nevertheless," resuming his wily look — 
 " we must see to poor Mr. Mauley's interests, and look 
 out a sweetheart for him in the room of the young lady 
 who has given him the slip." 
 
 And, smiling his adieux, the old gentleman retired. 
 
 Miss Palliser would willingly have followed his ex- 
 ample, and gone at once to bed; but to this the Colonel 
 decidedly objected. With a slight appearance of pique 
 which, under the circumstances, was perhaps not unnatu- 
 ral, he reminded her that something was due to a family 
 who were receiving her so hospitably— she must, if pos- 
 sible, make up her mind to return to the company for a 
 
'*^ 1 12 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 little while ; and for his sake, if not for their' s, must put 
 some constraint on her inclinations ; and Maria, too wise 
 or too weak to thwart her futm-e commander, passively 
 resigned herself to his will, and suffered him (gently 
 lecturing as they went) to conduct her back to the 
 drawing-room. There, unhappily, the scene had suffered 
 a material change during the short absence of the be- 
 trothed couple. Some of the party were professedly 
 " serious," as it is called, and would have held themselves 
 personally affronted had cards or dancing —under their 
 most decorous and unexciting forms — been introduced as 
 the chief diversion of the night ; so, on the plea of 
 amusing the children, a game at blind-man's-buff was 
 set on foot. But, as it usually happens where old and 
 young mingle together on apparently equal terms, the 
 iuvenile rights and privileges soon came to be invaded, 
 under the directorship of their full-grown cousins; and 
 while the original players were but jostled to and fi'o, 
 and literally as well as figuratively shoved to the wall, 
 the real business and pleasure of catching and being 
 caught was entirely monopolized by their elders; amongst 
 whom, we may further remark, that the anathematizers of 
 the decorous quadrille and sober-minded rubber made 
 by far the most prominent figure. 
 
 As it was " only a family party " the mirth was 
 growing ever}'' moment more uproarious, and the romping 
 more exceptionable. Yet Colonel Hussey, by way of 
 upholding the system of toleration he was so anxious to 
 inculcate upon his charming but " rather too precise 
 Maria," tried for a little while to smile at the gambols of 
 
BLIXD-MAN'S-BUFr. 113 
 
 his grown-up friends ; the effort, however, grew evi- 
 dently spasmodic, when the oldest and ugliest of the 
 Mudges rushed past him like some superannuated bac- 
 chante, with her cheeks inflamed and her dress dishevelled 
 — fancying, poor woman, that she was pursued by her 
 blinded husband, who was far from being so closely 
 hoodwinked as to fall into the error she imputed to him, 
 but was evidently in full chase of the prettiest girl in 
 the room ; and when, as a climax to the uproar, three of 
 the party were overthrown on the floor in wild and 
 shrieking disorder, the Colonel could bear it no longer. 
 
 Turning to Miss Palliser with a face which reflected 
 all her shame and disgust, he said hastily — " You were 
 right Maria — quite right ! This is no scene for you — you 
 shall retire at once \" and he hurried her back to the hall, 
 where they now encountered only Mrs. Sarah Barclay, 
 plodding leisurely up and down with her hands in her 
 capacious pockets, and cordially joining in the Colonel's 
 disapprobation of the boisterous revels he had just quitted. 
 
 " All very well for little boys and girls, Ben; but what's- 
 good for the kitten is not always good for the cat. 
 They wanted to have me amongst them, but I wasn't 
 going to make a merryandrew of myself just to please a 
 pack of people who wouldn't care a halfpenny-piece if 1 
 was laid in the churchyard to-morrow, so as they had my 
 little matter of money shared between them. Get my 
 clothes scratched off my back, and be laughed at for an 
 old goose into the bargain. No, I'd see them hanged 
 first ! Lord bless you, Ben, I knew well enough what 
 pranks they'd be after ; and though I am. one of tlie old 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 chap's nearest of kin, I don't think they'd have got me 
 down to his anniversary, as they call it, if I hadn't 
 wanted to see you and your sweetheart." 
 
 Thanking the old lady for her compliment, the Colonel 
 expressed his surprise that Mrs. George Barclay, whose 
 own manners were so correct, should countenance a scene 
 of such utter indecorum. 
 
 " Why, to tell you the truth, Colonel, I don't think 
 Kezia likes it much better than we do, though she puts 
 a good face upon the matter. The Divets, you see, have 
 a vast notion of standing well with their relations, and 
 it's an old custom in the family that once a year they 
 should all meet together from far and near, and drink 
 the old man's health on his birthday." 
 
 ^^ And an excellent custom, too," the Colonel rejoined ; 
 " nobody could find fault with such an assembly if they 
 conducted themselves properly, and were contented with 
 the amusements appropriate to their age — music and 
 dancing for instance, or rational conversation." 
 
 Cousin Sally repeated his concluding alternative with 
 a grin of derision. 
 
 " Kational conversation, indeed ! And are you such a 
 greenhorn. Cousin Ben, as not to know what the upshot 
 of that would be ? Tiffing and squabbling — slandering 
 and backbiting — that would be their notion of a snug bit 
 of chat. It's the way with most family parties that I 
 was ever at ; and to my mind. Colonel, bad as their blind- 
 man's-buff may be, it's twenty times better than that 
 way of spending the night — rational talk ! Lord, Ben, 
 what a ninny you must be ! '\ 
 
blind-man's-buff. 115 
 
 Colonel Hussey glanced uneasily at his betrothed, 
 wishing she had taken flight up-stairs before any more 
 of these candid remarks had been promulgated for her 
 benefit ; he himself had already done mischief enough by 
 his revelations, and here was Cousin Sally corroborating 
 them all. 
 
 Mrs. Sarah caught the look, but interpreted it only 
 in part. 
 
 " There's that poor thing wanting to go to bed," said 
 she, " tired out with her journey, I dare say, and nobody 
 here to give her a helping hand, for the house is all turned 
 topsy-turvy. But 111 soon have up one of those lazy 
 trollopes, see if I don't— Here, Betty— Patty ! what are 
 your names ? " and, at the highest pitch of a remarkably 
 load voice, the old lady shouted up one long passage, 
 roared round the corner of another, and halloed at the 
 head of the back-stairs. ^' I see what they are after," 
 she said, winking significantly; " they choose to be called 
 by their surnames, and make-believe to be ladies' maids ; 
 but they are not going to gammon me in that manner, 
 Colonel. I call 'em all Bettys, and Pattys, and Mollys, 
 and if they don't like it they may lump it— the con- 
 ceited hussies ! 
 
 " Why, you numbskull Dawkins, don't you hear me 
 calling the girls ? Go and look for them directly, and 
 tell them they are wanted." 
 
 The butler beheld her with dignified unconscious- 
 ness, as if assuming that he could not possibly be the 
 subject of such an attack ; but the dauntless SaUy insisted 
 on his doing her bidding, observing as he went that she 
 
116 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 never missed a chance of taking Dawkins down a peg or 
 two; "for of all the conceited apes! — Oh, here comes 
 one of these minxes at last, with a fine lace cap and a 
 flounced apron ! I only wish she belonged to me, that's 
 all ! Here, Betty, you are to wait upon Miss Palliser, and 
 see that she wants nothing to make her comfortable — do 
 you hear what I say, Mrs. Betty ? And hold your candle- 
 stick straight on end, or you"ll be spiUing the wax on 
 the stair carpets all the way you go — Eugh !" and Mrs. 
 Sarah ended her admonition by making a face highly 
 indicative of her supreme contempt for the race of 
 modern domestics. 
 
 She then bade Miss Palliser a hearty ^' good-night," 
 assuring her that the house was not often such a bear- 
 garden as it appeared at present ; but that some of the 
 company would pack themselves- off that very night, and 
 the rest (if it so " pleased the pigs ") by next day's noon 
 would be dispersing to their several distant counties. 
 
 In his turn the Colonel, at parting, reminded his Maria, 
 in the kindest whisper, that though obliged to return to 
 Woolwich early the following morning, perhaps too early 
 to expect the pleasure of seeing her again before he went 
 — yet two syllables from her pen — the slightest hint, in 
 short that her present quarters proved disagreeable to 
 her, should suffice to bring him back to Ether idge, not 
 again to quit her side until he had placed her in a situa- 
 tion better adapted to her taste and feelings. 
 
 The young lady tried to answer cheerfully, and express 
 a proper acknowledgment to both her good friends, but 
 the effort was evidently forced. 
 
blind-man's-buff. 117 
 
 Tired witli travelling aud recent excitement — subdued 
 in spirit — sad and weary throughout, she followed her 
 conductress with steps which lingered only from fatigue, 
 and not from any tender desire to remain in the neigh- 
 bourhood of either of her well-wishers. 
 
 To escape every sound of the coarse merriment pre- 
 vailing below was her first consideration, and this was 
 soon effected. After surmounting a staircase or two, and 
 deviating amongst a few intricate turnings, for the house 
 was very spacious and irregularly built, and though she 
 had been introduced to her sleeping chamber already, 
 she could scarcely yet have made her way to it without a 
 guide, they finally entered a long gallery into which her 
 room opened, and a door being closed at the entrance of 
 this passage-room, all direct communication with the rest 
 of the mansion was effectually cut off. 
 
118 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 CHAPTER yill. 
 
 MOONSHIKE. 
 
 Maria breathed more freely. ISTot a footfall sounded 
 on the matted floor, and the moonlight streamed in, and 
 looked the more cool and grateful from its contrast to 
 what she had left below, the light — the glare — the heat 
 — and half-veiled intemperance. 
 
 A few family relics, shoved aside as too antiquated 
 for the sitting-room, were accumulated in this quarter 
 of the house — some stiff, ungainly portraits, which shone 
 to more advantage in this uncertain light than in the 
 brightness of the day — an old table or two, with legs 
 bowed respectably, and china bowls with their uncracked 
 sides put foremost. Those pictures were, after all, but 
 likenesses of some ancestors of the Divets, and it was 
 very probable that the cousins who had gone before, 
 could neither in morals nor manners have boasted them- 
 selves superior to those that had succeeded them, or to 
 any of the nine-and-twenty then feasting and rioting 
 on the ground floor. The lady in brown satin hanging 
 against that wainscoat, might have been only an antique 
 edition of her in blue satin below stairs, who figured in 
 the present chronicle of the Divet family as cheating her 
 
MOONSHINE. 119 
 
 husband's creditors to gratify her extravagant propensi- 
 ties, nor a bit better than her in the green, who was 
 regarded as little less than an adultress. And then that 
 very respectable-looking gentleman stricken in years, on 
 whose periwig and ruffles the sweet moon was shining, 
 might he not have been in his day some grasping 
 attorney, the very counterpart of the Patriarch himself? 
 one who, after grinding the faces of the poor, and op- 
 pressing the Pelhams of his generation, had gone to his 
 grave full of years and prosperity ? The very tables — 
 for were they not made to unfold — had perhaps in their 
 day ministered to many an unholy propensity for gam- 
 bling, and the punch-bowls have been flawed in some 
 such disorderly merry-making as Miss Palliser had just 
 fled from in disgust ; yet charmed with the coolness, the 
 silence, the immobility of the scene, nothing of all this 
 occurred to her — that matted gallery, compared to the 
 rest of the mansion, was a sanctuary in her eyes, and she 
 seemed at once transported into a world formed of 
 materials congenial to her spirit. 
 
 Musing on many things, she strolled on towards a 
 window at the further end of the passage-room, but 
 suddenly stopped, for it was occupied already. A gen- 
 tleman was standing at it, absorbed apparently in 
 contemplation of the scene without ; for, though the 
 house was situated in the midst of the town, there was 
 a garden of considerable extent attached to it. Even 
 in the obscm-ity which enveloped him, through which 
 so little but the most shadowy outline seemed to be 
 perceptible, it happened somehow that Miss Palliser 
 
120 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 never for a moment suspected him of having made art 
 or part of the company below — never once dreamed of 
 his being a Divet or a Barclay — much less a Muclge ! 
 
 She was quickly but quietly retracing her steps, when 
 the damsel in attendance assured her she need not be 
 afraid of disturbing him — " It's only Mr. Frere, ma'm, 
 and he's as deaf, poor gentleman — as deaf as this chair !" 
 giving it a smart rap as she spoke, which startled Miss 
 Palliser, but, true enough, made no sort of impression on 
 the person Betty was describing. " We all screech like 
 any thing when we want to make him hear us, and 
 after all it's only Miss Sally as can screech loud enough. 
 How she do holla at him, to be sure!" The explana- 
 tion, however, had no effect in encouraging Miss Palliser ; 
 she continued to retreat softly to her chamber-door, yet 
 there she stopped: either there was something in the 
 figure of the stranger, partially visible as it was, or in 
 the idea of his sore affliction, thus coarsely commented 
 on, which fascinated her attention. 
 
 He stood there, motionless as a statue, his arm resting 
 against the window-frame, and his head thrown back as 
 if he were gazing into the skies. The voice of the maid, 
 pert, obtrusive, common — like every thing belonging to 
 the Divets— annoyed Miss Palliser ; so she took the 
 candle, and, dismissing Mrs. Betty, entered her room, and, 
 locking the door, looked round behind her with that 
 feeling of relief which, under certain circumstances, 
 nothing but solitude, entire and unbroken, can bestow. 
 She was alone! The Divets, Barclays, Mudges — the 
 Colonel himself, good man — all were effectually distanced ; 
 
MOONSHINE. 121 
 
 and at her leisure slie might revel in the assurance, that, 
 besides the moral discrepancy that must ever separate 
 her from most of the company, there were solid doors 
 and stout bolts intervening. Yes, she was alone, with 
 only the sweet accessories of silence below and the stars 
 above her, and no living thing near but that solitary 
 being, who pursued his quiet meditations outside. She 
 had fancied herself too tired for any thing but bed ; but 
 now, being freed from all constraint, no longer pestered 
 with the presence of those she disliked or mistrusted, her 
 eyes lost their heaviness, and her spirits rose in due pro- 
 portion. 
 
 There are many emotions excusable in their origin, 
 and justified by their existing cause, which may, in our 
 consciousness of the intensity with which they are 
 working, inflict upon us a secret shame. Miss Palliser 
 felt this in her hatred of the Divets. Warranted as her 
 repugnance might be in the person of the old man, it 
 assimilated her too palpably with the very class she was 
 contemning. She had shrunk from the recital, so in- 
 judiciously forced upon her, of the malevolent passions 
 which were actuating these people; but with this canker- 
 worm gnawing into her own heart, this secret abhorrence 
 of those who, receiving her amongst them as an old 
 friend, were shewing her the most substantial kindness, 
 and entertaining her to the best of their ability, in what 
 respect was she so much their superior that she should 
 hold them in such scorn ? Then, supposing she could 
 exonerate herself with regard to the Divets, there was 
 one to whom so much more was owing, who had surely 
 
122 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 reason to complain of lier conduct. Colonel Hussey, 
 uniformly good as he had been to her, so mindful of her 
 true interests, and attentive to her minutest wish — she 
 knew she had repaid him that night with heavy ingrati- 
 tude. He had acted from the best motives in bringing 
 her to Etheridge, and how had she requited him ? By 
 openly, and in the strongest terms, expressiug her 
 scorn and disgust of his relations — in objecting to stay 
 where he had chosen to place her ; also, she was sub- 
 jecting him to present mortification, and perhaps to 
 future embarrassment. 
 
 As meet penance for the naughtiness of the night, 
 Miss PalHser resolved to rise early and make the Colonel 
 a pretty apology before he departed next morning ; and, 
 satisfied for the present with this intention of atonement, 
 the good man slid away as it were from her thoughts, in 
 company with many another matter of greater or less 
 importance, which an imagination, livelier than she 
 herself suspected, was soon busily conjuring before her. 
 
 Things past, present, and to come, floated on in 
 ceaseless succession. Soon the atmosphere of even that 
 cool room seemed to grow oppressive ; she would try 
 something cooler still ; and, opening her window, leaned 
 out into the night-air, and looked down upon a scene 
 which, like the pictures in the gallery, had the advantages 
 of novelty, and a moon nearly at the full to enhance its 
 real value. 
 
 The garden, though it might be considered large as 
 appertaining to a town residence, and even boasted 
 some trees of venerable growth, was overlooked here 
 
MOONSHINE. 123 
 
 and there by the neighbouring buildings, which peered 
 over its high walls ; but the tiled roofs and tall chimneys, 
 with an occasional light burning in some garret window, 
 presented nothing unsightly to the eye : indeed, a homely 
 picture like this may often, through some undefined 
 association, impress the mind of the beholder more 
 deeply than many a prospect of far wider range and 
 grander features. 
 
 Shortly, through the pleasant stillness, there came a 
 sound as pleasant, the church clock chiming the quar- 
 ters, and then the deeper toll betokening the hour of 
 night. Miss Palliser listened, and was sorry when it 
 ceased ; for, though it reminded her of the bell whose 
 strokes she used to count so often as she sat watching 
 in the sick-chamber of her old home, yet this was 
 sweeter and not so solemn — it soothed, and did not 
 make her melancholy. Moreover, it inspired charitable 
 thoughts ; for her's wandered to that poor man at the 
 gallery window-^" What would he not give to hear it as 
 plainly as she did ? " and then she began to wonder how 
 he felt, and what he was thinking of, as he stood there, 
 so motionless and absorbed. It was a strange affliction 
 when suffered to this excess: she had never dwelt 
 upon this subject before ; but now it took hold upon her 
 fancy, and a hundred things occurred to her in reference 
 to it, which puzzled and interested her. She wanted 
 to know in what degree the character of one suddenly 
 seized with deafness, as she understood this gentleman 
 to have been, would remain true to its original mould — 
 formed as it must have been under such very different 
 
124 THE THPwEE CHAXCES. 
 
 circumstances. So much that had helped to constitute 
 that character must be excluded from him now ; manv 
 an old impression must be withheld, and many sources 
 of information ; and that instantaneous communication 
 from the ear to the brain : she tried to imagine what it 
 must be to have this suddenly closed, and that not for 
 merely an hour, or a day, or a week, but for ever — the 
 earthly " ever " at least. The attempt to throw herself 
 into his position gave her a sensation of horror, as if 
 she were being bricked up like the nuns of old: she 
 shuddered, and seemed to hear each passing breeze, 
 and every murmur of the summer night, with peculiar 
 distinctness — as though they mocked her vain endeavour 
 to feel like this desolate man. 
 
 Again she strove to analyze, as well as she was able — 
 without knowing more of his previous life and character 
 — the effect his altered circumstances must necessarily 
 have had upon him ; and, though she could not 
 ponder on the individual man, there was much in 
 his affliction which might be generalized. There were 
 subjects, she apprehended, which must present quite a 
 different aspect to a person in his predicament from 
 what they had worn before: his common course of 
 thought would be so changed and re-adjusted, that, 
 living a few years longer, he might seem to have 
 passed through two states of existence, quite distinct 
 from each other. No one consequently could have so 
 good a notion of what the migration of the soul would 
 be ; she wondered if he ever thought of that. There 
 must be quite a fresh set of interests for his second life 
 
MOONSHINE. 125 
 
 — new hopes and inclinations — a new consciencej too. 
 Would it be called so ? and would be have at last two 
 lives to answer for ? Most men find one enough, and 
 more than enough, for their mortal frailty ! 
 
 Miss Palliser grew half bewildered as she followed 
 the intricacies of a subject so new to her as the powers 
 and responsibilities of a person in the circumstances of 
 Manley Frere. She would like for a little while, she 
 thought, to experience such a fate as his, that she might 
 know how she would bear it. Whether she should be 
 resigned, or sink into torpidity, content to live on, 
 deprived of life's chiefest enjoyments, or, more ear- 
 nestly than ever, desire to die ? It was no new thino- 
 for her to long for death — would it then be a permanent 
 idea ? And, should she have the strength to resist that 
 longing, and shun the temptation of rushing into another 
 world, where — whatever else might be her portion— she 
 would trust to escape the horror of that sullen, inexor- 
 able silence .f^ Perhaps Mr. Frere was not a man of 
 deep thought or excitable temper, and in that case 
 such struggles between faith and afiiiction might never 
 have agitated him. But, on the other hand, who could 
 tell whether at that very moment they might not be 
 distracting his inmost soul ? It was possible— and the 
 thought was too striking to be lightly dismissed—'' Yes, 
 even as she stood there herself, calm and self-reliant, a 
 fellow-creature scarcely ten paces off, might be— what 
 might he not be meditating ? " At the next moment 
 Miss Palliser was smiling at the wild speculation in 
 which her reflections about this poor deaf man had 
 
126 THE THBEE CHANCES. 
 
 involved her. It was hard upon Mr. Frere to be accus- 
 ing him of a tendency to suicide, just by way of a climax 
 to her fanciful reverie. And she of all people to be 
 yielding to such freaks of imagination ! She supposed 
 it was the moon that was influencing her weak brain, 
 and developing her peculiar monomania. She would 
 go to bed, and seek wisdom in sleep ; and so she did, 
 and woke in the morning dreaming that Colonel Hussey 
 was seized with deafness so intense, that not even cousin 
 Sally herself could make him hear a single syllable. 
 
THE GRASP OF THE STATUE. 127 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE GRASP OF THE STATUE. 
 
 That resolution of making the amende Jionorahle to 
 Colonel Hussey which his mistress had formed over- 
 night, was so undeniably prudent and proper, that it 
 would have been hard indeed if things had not conduced 
 to its due execution next morning. Kising betimes, and 
 issuing from her chamber at an early hour — for her 
 lover was to be on the road before eight o'clock — Miss 
 Palliser found the house already pretty well cleared of 
 all evidences of the obnoxious anniversary, old Divet 
 of course invisible, and not one of the company yet 
 afoot to remind her of past grievances. Only Mrs. 
 George Barclay, with her cheerful smile and aspect of 
 not unladylike alacrity, was moving about the breakfast 
 parlour, a smaller room than any the guest had yet 
 seen, which looked upon the garden, and had the morn- 
 ing sun shining pleasantly upon it. Mrs. George was 
 preparing tea for the early traveller ; and no one could 
 look her in the face and doubt for a moment that that 
 tea would be worth drinking. For I cannot bring my- 
 self to pass over this subject (though confessing it to be 
 quite irrelevant to the story) without observing, that it 
 
128 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 is only clever people who make good tea. There are, of 
 course, occasional exceptions to the rale, and I have known 
 more than one fool who succeeded at last in mastering 
 this useful accomplishment ; but that only serves to show 
 what may be achieved by the stupidest women by dint 
 of laudable and unremitting perseverance. Mrs. George, 
 I am aware, when complimented on her talent this way, 
 used modestly to reply that she *' inherited it from her 
 mother," but there she was mistaken ; her sharp nose and 
 capacious mouth had descended from the maternal line — 
 the more was the pity ! But as for poor Cowper's cele- 
 brated beverage, the fact was notorious that Mrs. David 
 Divet had been a silly old woman, the strength of whose 
 tea could never be depended upon after the first cup. 
 Therefore the merit of Mrs. Barclay's distinguished and 
 unfailing success in this department was all her own ; 
 and as it may happen that, in the pages yet to come, we 
 may not always have it in our power to praise that lady 
 so warmly, it would be unfair to miss the present oppor- 
 tunity — her tea was capital ! 
 
 Colonel Hussey meanwhile strolled up and down be- 
 fore the windows on a broad and well-kept gravel walk, 
 which extended along the back of the house, and which, 
 as it was slightly raised above the garden beyond it, had 
 obtained the rather grandiloquent name of "terrace.'* 
 It was here Miss Palliser found him, looking alternately 
 at his watch, and up at her bed-room window. For 
 time Avas wearing on, and he, sincere lover as he was, 
 had an appointment in London the ensuing afternoon, 
 and must not dally with the precious minutes even to 
 
THE GRASP OF THE STATUE. 129 
 
 secure a last farewell from his Maria ; and something be- 
 sides, which albeit, this was not Saturday or any accre- 
 dited festival, we may presume would not on such an 
 occasion be omitted. 
 
 It was a wonderful relief to the Colonel to find his 
 mistress so much more conformable than her behaviour 
 of the previous evening had given him reason to expect. 
 For he, no less annoyed than Miss Palliser herself at the 
 style in which the glorious anniversary had been cele- 
 brated, had been awake half the night, cogitating the 
 propriety of removing her from Etheridge, and trying to 
 determine where it would be best to place his betrothed 
 bride during the period that must intervene before he 
 should be quite at liberty to make himself the happiest 
 of men, and her (of course) the most blessed of women. 
 But the spirit of conciliation in which she met him this 
 morning, charmed the good Colonel, not merely because 
 it helped him out of a dilemma, but as it impressed 
 him with the highest opinion of her obedience and 
 amiability. For though there was no unbounded cheer- 
 fulness in Miss Palliser's view of the subject, she showed 
 herself unaffectedly resigned to his will, and ready to 
 conform to it without a murmur. And the tone in 
 which she acknowledged herself to have been in the 
 wrong the preceding night, proved her openness to 
 conviction, and her freedom from that false pride which 
 prompts us to palliate what we feel to be inexcusable. 
 
 She did it nicely, too — sadly, but prettily ; laying her 
 hand on his arm, with a familiarity she did not often 
 display, and looking up at him with eyes which, for a 
 
 VOL. L K 
 
130 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 moment or two, had cliariged their usual character of 
 calm reserve for a more sweet and seducing expression. 
 "Don't fancy me after all so perverse/' she said; "I can- 
 not tell what came over me last night. But every thing 
 was new and odd, and I was tired, and I suppose 
 peevish. To-day I see things differently, and I dare say 
 I shall get on very well here, even when you are gone ; 
 and, if I should not be over happy, it can be but of slight 
 importance. I have endured before now many a worse 
 month than I can possibly spend at this house." She 
 ended with a sigh, and, drawing her arm quietly away 
 from his, the soft persuasive smile died off, and became 
 utterly extinguished. 
 
 There was some one in the garden, at a little distance 
 from the spot where they were communing while the 
 breakfast was preparing within ; and. Colonel Hussey 
 seeing Miss Palliser's eyes attracted that way, said — 
 " That is the Mr. Frere you heard them mentioning last 
 night." Miss Palliser knew it was Mr. Frere ; the slight 
 glimpse she had had of him already — that shadowy indi- 
 cation which the moonlight had discovered to her — had 
 somehow been enough to establish the fact, that the man 
 she beheld there in the full morning sun was the very 
 same person. *'He wisely kept his distance from us 
 last night," the Colonel proceeded ; " and, between our- 
 selves, I am not sorry he did so. But before I go, Maria, I 
 should like to introduce him to you myself — for I think 
 you will be pleased with him, poor man ! You will find 
 him an intelligent companion, notwithstanding his disad- 
 vantages as an auditor ; and to a heart so full of feeling 
 
THE GRASP OF THE STATUE. 131 
 
 as yours, my love, that sad calamity of his would be 
 enough of itself to engage your sympathy, and to lead 
 vou to show him a little attention/' 
 
 " Scarcely that," replied she ; " I only wish I had more 
 of the natural kindliness you impute to me. But the 
 truth is, I have no softness of heart, I told you so long 
 ago. Mere misfortune (though I trust I would always 
 relieve it if I could) is not enough to awaken my interest 
 in the sufferer. There must be much besides — intrinsic 
 worth — fortitude — intellect — and even (for I own my 
 weakness in that respect) there must be something like 
 good looks. ; 
 
 The Colonel, safe in his consciousness of being a fine- 
 looking, well-made man, smiled indulgently; but his 
 understanding was of that straightforward, solid order, 
 which was not calculated to enter into the intricacies of 
 an argument like this ; it might, in some hands, have 
 been susceptible of much lively ilhistration and playful 
 banter. All he did for it, however, was to throw a spice 
 of the complimentary, into what he thought a very 
 neat little speech, and Miss Palliser knew better than to 
 be disappointed by it. Many, and many, and many a 
 topic had before then been started between them, the 
 thread of which she had pursued, till, finding it rather 
 bewildered than amused her companion, she had quietly 
 dropped, or laid by to be made matter for solitary thinkr 
 ing and investigation. Nevertheless, as he did not 
 humour her nonsense, it was hardly to be expected that 
 she should listen to his ; so she interrupted him rathei? 
 abruptly before he had quite finished his speech. 
 
132 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 " You call him a handsome man, do you not ? " said 
 she, still watching Mr. Frere. 
 
 " No, I don't," replied the Colonel, " he is not my style 
 of man. Huddlestone of the artillery is much better 
 looking. He is really a good-looking fellow. I should 
 like you to see Huddlestone." 
 
 " Is he fond of flowers ? " Miss Palliser asked. 
 
 *^ Huddlestone ? " said the Colonel inquiringly. She 
 turned a vacant and inquiring look upon him. " 1 beg 
 your pardon," said he ; '•' I was alluding to my friend 
 Huddlestone, while you were thinking of our deaf 
 acquaintance there. Yes, I should think Frere was very 
 partial to them, from the way he is examining that 
 blossom he has just gathered. Understands them 
 scientifically most likely; a thing," the Colonel added, " I 
 have no taste for." 
 
 " No," said Miss Palliser, directing her eyes again to- 
 wards Mr. Frere. " You are not very scientific, I believe." 
 
 **I have no time for those pursuits, my love," he 
 returned ; ^* it is all very well for an idle man like Mr. 
 Frere to fritter his time away amongst flowers, and 
 shells, and that kind of trumpery. No, no ! " correcting 
 himself as he caught a certain glance from his mistress's 
 eye, " I don't mean of course to depreciate a harmless and 
 elegant recreation. But you must perceive, Maria, that 
 where a man has a settled profession " 
 
 " Oh, true, I forgot your profession ! " 
 
 '' But not my profession's ? " said he, tenderly empha- 
 sizing the word in its plural state. " You never forget 
 them, I trust ?" 
 
THE GKASP OF THE STATUE. 133 
 
 '• Of course not," replied ]\Iiss Palliser serenely, and 
 withdrawing the hand he had taken. " It would be very 
 odd if I did, you know." 
 
 "And speaking of science," continued the Colonel, 
 ^^ though I may not understand the conformation of a 
 particular plant, or be able to classify shells and preserve 
 insects ; yet an officer in the artillery, my dear girl, espe- 
 cially supposing him to have attained a certain rank in 
 the service, can hardly be pronounced un-sciQutiRc." 
 
 ^* Exactly! Yes, I see," replied his friend — inti- 
 mating, of course, by the words " I see," the eyes of her 
 understanding, which her lover was doing his best to 
 enlighten ; but with those material and contemplative 
 orbs that were set visible in her head, she was still re- 
 jrardincr the movements of Mr. Frere. Moreover, she 
 was trying to recall what had been said of him over- 
 night — "something — surely, something about an unfor- 
 tunate attachment ?" 
 
 " Oh ! that's a sad story of poor Frere's," the Colonel 
 observed. " He was engaged to a very charming woman 
 — in fact, on the point of marrying her, when " 
 
 " I say, Ben, my boy, you'll be too late for the train if 
 yoii don't look a little sharper." The interruption and 
 friendly reminder came from cousin Sally, who had 
 thrown open her chamber window, and was leaning out 
 of it in considerable dishabille. She then went on to 
 make her morning compliments to IMiss Palliser. " How 
 do you do, my dear ? All the better for a night's rest 
 and a good snooze, eh ? I say. Miss P., don't you let 
 your young man there miss the train." 
 
134 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 " Oh, no fear of that, ma'm ; the Colonel is always 
 punctual ! " 
 
 '^ Yes, when a pretty girl isn't in the case ; but you 
 may take your 'davy of one thing, Miss What's-your- 
 name, that when people go a sweet-hearting, they are 
 seldom worth much in other respects. There are you two 
 philandering there (for I have seen you at it ever so 
 long), and not a word have you spoken to that poor 
 deaf thing down below. If your heads had not been 
 stuffed with a parcel of nonsense, you'd have taken some 
 notice of him before now, and not left the poor be- 
 nighted soul straggling about the flower-beds all alone 
 by himself, you know you would." 
 
 The Colonel defended himself as a lover. ^' It was 
 our hearts that were preoccupied, Mrs. Sarah, and not 
 our heads. But the fact is, we were just talking of 
 Frere and his romantic story. I was telling Maria how 
 ill he had been used." 
 
 " Ha, that paltry wench ! " exclaimed the old lady, as 
 she disdainfully poked her fingers through the ribbon loops 
 adorning the morning cap she was about to put on. " I 
 only wish I could come athwart that Miss Thingembob, 
 and I'd give her a bit of my mind ; if I wouldn't, never 
 trust Sally Barclay ! " — then twisting the cap round 
 upon one hand, while with the other she gave a final 
 touch to the bows, she transferred it to her head without 
 further ceremony, intimating, as she did so, her charitable 
 purpose of going down and having a good chat with Mr. 
 Manley ; " for you are all such a mumping set in this 
 house, that nobody can make him hear a syllable but me." 
 
THE GRASP OF THE STATUE. 135 
 
 Miss Palliser soon became more completely mistress 
 of tlie facts thus vaguely referred to. From the lips 
 of Mrs. George Barclay the story assumed a much more 
 poetical form than it would have worn had cousin Sally 
 been its narrator ; and she spoke of Mr. Frere, his fine 
 character and mental endowments, in a manner to rouse 
 at once those human sympathies which the Colonel's 
 mistress had declared to be so difficult of excitement in 
 her sluggish nature. It was always Mrs. Barclay's aim 
 to invest the connection existing between the Freres and 
 the Divets with an air of as great equality as she pos- 
 sibly could — so the naked and unadorned fact of old 
 Divet's stewardship to that family was delicately slurred 
 over ; as, " My grandfather having been for many years 
 solicitor and confidential friend of the late Mr. Frere ; 
 and though, our family has long been removed from 
 their neighbourhood, we have continued on the most 
 intimate terms with the Freres ; so that, when it was 
 hinted to us that our poor young friend wished us to 
 receive him here till his departure for the Continent, 
 we had not the heart to refuse his request ; though, of 
 course, every one must feel that, in many respects, the 
 arrangement could not be otherwise than inconvenient 
 to us. Mr. Frere has quite a filial esteem for both my 
 dear parents, and I really think could not bear the idea 
 at present of being with any body but us." This 
 sounded well ; but Miss Palliser was scarcely yet in suffi- 
 cient charity with her entertainers to consider this 
 choice of Mr. Frere's as reflecting any credit on his taste 
 or breeding. 
 
136 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 Of course, there could be but one opinion as to the 
 conduct of Miss Girdlestone. Mrs. George, though pro- 
 fessing an intimate acquaintanceship with that family 
 also, could allege little beyond the young lady's youth in 
 excuse for her perfidy — " she believed her to be scarcely 
 of age, and probably some powerful persuasion had been 
 used to induce her to annul the engagement ; " but Miss 
 Palliser would not receive a word of apology. " To desert 
 such a man when he most needed consolation ! It was 
 heartless cruelty — the act of a fiend, and not a woman !" 
 
 With a good-humoured smile at the Colonel, Mrs. 
 George said : " There, cousin — there's comfort for you at 
 least, in case any trial like poor Manley Frere's should 
 ever befall you. Though you lose your hearing, you 
 will not have to resign your bride." 
 
 The Colonel, looking as comfortably assured as it was 
 possible for a lover to do, turned towards his fair friend, 
 *' What say you, Maria, " he asked, *^ shall we strike 
 hands on that bargain .?" 
 
 Miss Palliser coloured intensely, and — for by nature 
 she was a very sincere person — she even hesitated a 
 second or two ere she placed her hand in that of Colonel 
 Hussey's. His touch had not quite the effect upon her 
 that the grasp of the statue has upon Don Juan ; and 
 yet the action, simple as it seemed, caused her heart to 
 cease beating for a moment, and then to bound as if it 
 would have leaped from lier bosom. 
 
 Miss Palliser then remembered her dream, and the 
 voice of cousin Sally from the terrace chimed in aptly 
 enough with her early vision, and completed the impres- 
 
THE GRASP OF THE STATUE. 137 
 
 sion of its reality. But the old lady was only addressing 
 Mr. Frere in her highest key : there was a sort of pride, 
 as well as pleasure, in making herself intelligible to him 
 when every one else found the task so difficult. Em- 
 phasizing equally every syllable in what was intended to 
 be a cheerful tone of encouragementj she began the attack 
 as he approached to salute her ;. and though there was 
 nothing remarkable in his reply, for it was only what 
 any man with or without his hearing might have said, 
 yet Miss Palliser, who had listened with some curiosity 
 for the voice of her fellow-lodger, felt satisfied that it 
 corresponded with the idea she had formed of him. 
 
 Cousin Sally availed herself of the double advantage 
 of talking to Mr. Frere at the full stretch of her lungs, 
 while by turning her head round the side-post of the 
 glass door, which opened from the breakfast parlour into 
 the garden, she could make, in her ordinary tone, any 
 comment she pleased to the two at the breakfast-table. 
 
 " So-you-wouldn't-come-amongst-us-last-night. We- 
 were-all-very-merry — (and very tipsy some of us ; but 
 there's no occasion to tell him that ! '') Then came Mr. 
 Frere's voice, low yet clear, " No, ma'm, I thought the 
 kindest thing I could do was to keep my distance — ^I 
 should only have been in your way." (" Ah, he's right 
 enough, poor dear soul — he'd have been a sad plague to 
 us, sure enough ! ") Then, exalting her tone, " That's-only- 
 your-modesty — (Oh Lord ! he'll never make that out!) — 
 mod-esty. Do-you-hear-what-I-say, Mis-ter Manley .^ " 
 *^ Extremely well, ma'm ; you know we generally con- 
 trive to hear what is complimentary to us." 
 
138 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 The old lady then shouted a request that he would 
 come in to breakfast, for wliich, however, he assured 
 her he had at present no appetite. (" No,'* was the 
 comment thereupon, " I'll be sworn, he hasn't, poor fel- 
 low ! He is thinking too much still about that nasty 
 hussy to care about his victuals.) You-had-better-come- 
 in-and-have-a-bit-with-the-Colonel ; he's-going-to-town : 
 to-London — (He doesn't hear a word of that) — Colo- 
 nel-Hussey-going-by-the-early-train. (Oh, Lord ! I 
 must give it up as a bad job; I can't be hooting my- 
 self as hoarse as an old frog for all the Freres in the 
 kingdom, deaf or dumb, or whatever they may happen 
 to be.) Cousin-Benjamin-starting-for-London. (That's 
 done it, by jingo !") 
 
 ^' Colonel Hussey leaving so soon ! Oh, then, I must 
 wish him good by ! " and Mr. Frere, courteously giving 
 cousin Sally the precedence, entered the parlour. 
 
 So well did he preserve the manner of those who en- 
 joy the full possession of their faculties, that had it not 
 been for an occasional glance of inquiry when addressed 
 by some one whose capabilities were not as stentorian 
 as cousin Sally's, or by the unceremonious remarks made 
 upon him in his presence, Miss Palliser would not have 
 been aware that he was labouring under any peculiar 
 disadvantage. He might have passed simply for a per- 
 son too absent or too wise to attend to all the frivolous 
 things which were uttered in his ears. But the way in 
 which this gentleman was made the subject of open ob- 
 servation, and even of jest, to those about him, inflicted 
 on !Maria a painful and embarrassing sensation. It was 
 
THE GEASP OF THE STATUE. 139 
 
 a thing she must get accustomed to ; but as yet it was 
 hardly possible to believe him ignorant of what was pass- 
 ing, all the while he was looking and speaking so like 
 other people. " Like other people — like those around 
 him ? " she checked herself. " No, surely, not like any 
 of the Divet tribe ! " 
 
 "Poor fellow! how he must envy me!" said the 
 Colonel on Frere's introduction to Miss Palliser. The 
 ceremony was conducted chiefly by dumb shew ; but Mr. 
 Frere had previously been informed of the young lady's 
 name, and her position as Colonel Hussey's bride- 
 elect. 
 
 " It must indeed be a trial to him," was the remark of 
 Mrs. Barclay. " Such a contrast as he must feel it to 
 his own forsaken state. Poor man !" 
 
 " Ah, well," rejoined the Colonel suppressing a smile, 
 lest Mr. Frere might think himself the subject of it; 
 " you know, cousin, there are certain occasions when a 
 fresh wound is said to be the soonest healed." 
 
 '^ Oh fie. Colonel ! that is only grandpapa's playfulness. 
 The dear old man will have his joke ; but, of course, he 
 is the only one who has glanced at such an idea." 
 
 " Stranger things have come to pass, however. Haven't 
 they, cousin Sally ?" 
 
 Mrs. George agreed that undoubtedly they had ; 
 " but," she added, " I assure you, my dear Ben, I think 
 so seriously of the great event called matrimony, that I 
 would not hold up a finger to forward any thing of the 
 kind." 
 
 "You are quite right, Kezia!" the Colonel more 
 
140 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 gravely remarked ; " and the sentiment is in strict 
 accordance with your excellent sense and sound prin- 
 ciple." 
 
 " Fiddle-de-dee I" said cousin Sall}^, upon which pithy 
 exclamation the two, leaving their philosophy, burst into 
 a hearty laugh ; and when Mrs. George Barclay did 
 open that mouth of hers to its full extent, the fact 
 became remarkable, and the joke of undoubted value. 
 
 " I say, Miss P.," continued Mrs. Sarah, " can you 
 talk with your fingers ?" 
 
 " No, ma'm ; I don't know how." 
 
 " Humph ! Don't you, my dear ? — Phebe does ! " and 
 the old lady winked as a spinster '• ought not to wink." 
 
 " Be quiet, cousin Sally ; you grow incorrigible ! " 
 said Mrs. Barclay ; then, composing her countenance, 
 she asked Mr. Frere what he was going to do with 
 himself, and whether he would ride at his usual 
 hour ? And he answered her so wide of the mark 
 that it was plain he had not distinguished a word 
 she addressed to him ; but the effort at civility 
 seemed to satisfy them both, and Frere, wishing the 
 Colonel a pleasant journey, shortly left the room. 
 
 Miss Palliser felt relieved by his departure ; she also 
 had noticed, or believed she had, a peculiar look of Mr. 
 Frere's when Colonel Hussey presented him to her. 
 And, while tlie others were conversing, she had caught 
 the same expression as his eyes encountered hers. A 
 vain woman would have fancied it simply a glance of 
 admiration ; but Maria construed it justly as one of sad 
 consideration, in which (for a professed studier of 
 
THE GRASP OF THE STATUE. 141 
 
 character) there was much to be read, even on an 
 acquaintance short as was her's with the Divets' deaf 
 guest. 
 
 But now the Colonel had finished his breakfast and 
 taken his leave — even what seemed a last farewell of his 
 mistress. So completely indeed, in his methodical way, 
 had all attentions customary on such occasions been 
 accomplished, that nothing remained for her to do but to 
 wait till the pony- chaise, which was to convey him to 
 the station, should be set in motion, when she would 
 wave her lily-hand in a final adieu to him from the top 
 step of the broad and handsome flight which descended 
 from the wide portal of the Etheridge mansion to the 
 pavement of its high street. When, just as he was 
 mounting the carriage, the Colonel found his beloved 
 one by his side. She had followed a sudden impulse to 
 say something which could not be whispered among the 
 Divets, and, tripping lightly down the steps, was de- 
 taining him with a gentle grasp. 
 
 ^' What was it ? Any thing forgotten ? " 
 
 " No, no, all was right — it was only to ask one word 
 — one trifling explanation before he went. Who was 
 Phebe ? Was it the pretty widow Miss Palliser had 
 seen last night ? " 
 
 " What, didn't she know the number of Mr. Divet's 
 family yet ? Dear me ! How remiss he had been ! " and 
 Colonel Hussey, removing his foot from the carriage-step, 
 was preparing to enter into the subject at some length, but 
 time pressed ; and cousin Sally, associated now with the 
 master of the house, was holding her watch on high. 
 
142 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 while both vociferated from the doorway, that he had 
 not a moment to lose. 
 
 So he could only hm-redly explain to his fair interro- 
 gator, that the pastoral appellation which had struck her 
 as remarkable, belonged to the youngest daughter of the 
 house, at present from home, but summoned to return 
 hither to help in amusing their deaf visiter. 
 
 " And," added the speaker, with another gentle pres- 
 sure of the hand, and a little twinkle in his usually quiet 
 eye, " I shall look to you, Maria, for letting me know how 
 my fair cousin succeeds." 
 
 The hand was released, there was a flourish of the 
 Colonel's towards the party at the door, and off went the 
 gallant officer. 
 
OPINIONS DIFFER. 143 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OPINIONS DIFFER. 
 
 Colonel Hussey haviDg left her, Miss PalHser found 
 herself in the position so new and painful to her, of being 
 amonsrst stran2:ers with whom there was not one she de- 
 sired to associate. Some few of the relations convoked 
 to that famous celebration had been accommodated with 
 beds ; but. before the morning was much advanced, even 
 these had taken their leave. It happened, however, that 
 before the departure of Mr. Andrew Divet and his young 
 wife — the last mementoes of a disagreeable evening — 
 Maria was witness to a scene which, but for the expla- 
 nation, the notes, and remarks so liberally supplied by the 
 Colonel, would have been to her completely inexpli- 
 cable. 
 
 Their carriage was announced, and the leave-taking 
 going forward, when, in order to escape the necessity of 
 shaking hands with the sullen lady, or her coarse-looking 
 husband, Maria returned to the breakfast-room, where Mrs. 
 Sally sat knitting a remarkably clumsy worsted stocking, 
 and Mr. George Barclay, leaning against the window in 
 his usual moody attitude, replied not a word to the run- 
 ninor commentarv on various matters which she was 
 
144 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 carrying on. There was a light step, and Mrs. Divet in 
 her travelling dress rushed into the room. With a hur- 
 ried look over her shoulder, to ascertain that she was not 
 followed, she replied to somebody calling her from with- 
 out, " I'm coming ; Tm coming directly ; " and then 
 with a face so changed from its usual sullen character, 
 so full of vehement emotion and passionate love, she 
 cried, " George — George ! " Mr. Barclay started at her 
 voice, and in a moment they were locked in each other's 
 arms. It was but the indulgence of a very, very few 
 seconds — a few wild kisses were exchanged, one look into 
 each other's eyes, and she tore herself from his embrace, 
 and ran off as quickly as she had entered. He, standing 
 where she had left him, pursued her retreating figure 
 with his eyes, listening to her agitated voice as the words 
 again echoed through the hall — " I am coming, Divet — 
 I am coming directly ! " and he was then leaving the 
 room also, when some idea arrested his steps — he turned, 
 and going up to where Mrs. Sarah sat, leaned over her 
 and whispered hoarsely, " Cousin Sally, you won't 
 tell .?" 
 
 "Lord help you, George, my boy, I'd as lief cut 
 my tongue out ! " was the old lady's frank reply, her 
 lip quivering as she spoke. They wrung each other's 
 hands, and then he turned abruptly into the garden, 
 and was soon lost to view. 
 
 This short but most significant interlude was ill 
 calculated to reconcile Maria Palliser to her new abode. 
 Her dislike to the family amongst whom her Colonel 
 and her " Kismet " had placed her, returned upon her 
 
OPINIOXS DIFFER. 145 
 
 with increasing malignity. . Her mind, to wliicTi the 
 adverse circumstances of her previous life had lent a 
 cast of peculiar melancholy, became now impressed with 
 a sense of falsehood, and almost of crime, in all and 
 each who composed a portion of this family. The 
 junior Divet, with his bustling plausible address, who 
 was so civil to all the world, that he seemed, as he gave 
 orders in his house, to be toadying his very servants — his 
 daughter, his niece, so apt at a moral sentence, or a 
 sentimental reflection — she distrusted them more than 
 ever. But, above all, was her aversion roused by 
 the sight of the old man, the original object of her 
 hatred, as he came forth at noonday to take his accus- 
 tomed walk on the terrace, and bask in the cheerful 
 sun. Leaning on his staff, and attended by his grand- 
 daughter, his great grandchild (Priscilla's little girl), 
 playing and prattling in his path, he looked indeed the 
 very moral of whatever was most venerable and worthy 
 of esteem. Some neighbours called and joined him as 
 he walked — respectable inhabitants of the town — whose 
 obsequious courtesy and tone of deference, as they con- 
 versed with the patriarch, shewed how highly he stood 
 in the pablic estimation. And truly, in his benevolent 
 and not undignified manner, his sensible remarks on 
 the politics of the day, and his occasional clever raillery, 
 there was nothing for even Miss Palliser to condemn as 
 inconsistent with the model he was supposed to repre- 
 sent — that of one who had reached an extraordinary 
 term of years, in the exercise of every virtue of which 
 men and lawyers are held capable. Just to his contem- 
 
 VOL, I. L 
 
146 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 poraries — indulgent to the young — in all that goodly 
 mansion, and the fair town in which it flourished, there 
 were prohably but two who looked upon the patriarch 
 with any eyes save those of veneration — these inde- 
 pendent thinkers were George Barclay and Maria 
 Palliser. 
 
THE JUDGMENT OF THE EYE. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF THE EYE. v 
 
 VYe have remarked that it was the constant aim of 
 the Divets to have it appear that Mr. Frere's residence 
 with them was no mere matter of business or con- 
 venience, but the result of his personal friendship for 
 the whole family ; it was insinuated that they bore with 
 him and his infirmities from a philanthropic sentiment, 
 and that it was chiefly from respect to the memory of 
 his father, and in consideration of a time-honoured 
 connection subsisting between their families, that they 
 so cheerfully overlooked the inconvenience of having 
 him domesticated amongst them. Now the view taken 
 by Frere himself, of his short sojourn (for as such he 
 intended it) at Etheridge, was but little in accordance 
 with these pretentious vapourings. It was thus he 
 spoke of it to his friend Cranston, in reference to the 
 progress he professed to be making towards a more 
 resigned and equable state of mind. " And I attribute 
 much of this desirable change to my removal to a place 
 and part of the country so entirely distinct from old 
 associations. Any place or mode of living which should 
 in the slightest degree have reminded me of my own 
 
148 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 home, or the houses I have stayed at in former times, 
 would have done me more harm than good. But this 
 house of the Divets, and their homely burgher-like way 
 of proceeding, has nothing in common with any of my 
 old experiences. It stands in the high street of an 
 unromantic town, and has at the hack, which skirts the 
 suburbs, an odd, confined sort of garden — a thing I 
 should once have abominated ; but it serves my turn 
 completely now, for it shews not one attribute to stir up 
 a dangerous remembrance — yet is large enough to allow 
 of my strolling propensities when weary of reading and 
 not disposed to go farther ; and, with a little manage- 
 ment, I can generally contrive to avoid any unnecessary 
 contact with the family. 
 
 "The same safe mediocrity renders the people as 
 favourable as the place they inhabit for my hopes of 
 regaining ultimate tranquillity. Here, for the first time, 
 I am able to enjoy the wholesome conviction that I am 
 (politeness apart) an object of as real indifference to them 
 as they can possibly be to me. I^ay, I can well imagine 
 (and that without a single pang of wounded pride) that 
 in point of liking I have decidedly the advantage of my 
 friendly host and his kind family ; for, with all my efforts 
 to keep myself out of their way, 1 know I must be 
 troublesome to them at times. In the meanwhile I can 
 give you no idea how great a relief it is to me to know 
 that I am exciting little attention and no interest. A 
 time must come when, used to my inevitable lot, I shall 
 be able to look steadily into the face of an old friend — 
 even yours my Cranston — without shrinking from its 
 
THE JUDGMENT OF THE EYE. 149 
 
 expression of love and sympathy. But that period has 
 not yet arrived, and, conscious of my weak points, I do 
 my utmost to shun the risk of excitement, and hail with 
 pleasure the safe indifference (never unkindly displayed) 
 of these worthy Divets. I really have not a fault to 
 find with my entertainers, except that I cannot dispossess 
 the good souls of a notion that, because I have lost my 
 hearing, I must necessarily have a passion for chess — 
 though, as I believe you know, it is a game I have taken 
 almost an aversion to, ever since as a boy I mastered 
 some of its difficulties. As soon as I found myself able 
 to beat you, I lost my interest in the matter, and it has 
 never since revived. The old man (you ask me for a 
 sketch of the people about me ; and, though I know you 
 do so only to humour and win me back to my old tone, 
 of writing, you shall not ask in vain) — the old man, then, 
 whose extraordinary age would at any rate make him 
 an object of some curiosity, seems to me the only interest- 
 ing study amongst them. 
 
 " Notwithstanding this wonderful longevity, there is 
 less of old age about him than many a man twenty years 
 his junior displays. And here I was disappointed : there 
 is so much of the poetic attaching to antiquity, that when 
 we see it embodied in human shape, not lying rigid and 
 swathed like an Egyptian mummy, but with an im- 
 mortal spirit still animating and allying it to our human 
 sympathies — that spirit which shall so soon have passed 
 the bound of life— the coldest heart must, we will say, be 
 touched, the dullest fancy set itself to work, at a sight 
 like this. As for me, having never happened to meet in 
 
150 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 human form with any thing quite so aged, I was con- 
 scious of something very like awe steal over me, when I 
 first found myself in the presence of old Jesse Divet ; but 
 this soon vanished. With all my desire to do honour to 
 old age, and invest it in his person v/ith a touch of 
 sentiment, I could make out of the deep carvings of 
 his countenance neither a IsTestor nor a Michael Scott ; 
 the face is simply that of a clear-headed old lawyer who 
 — spite of his ninety years — is still quite as competent 
 to read your character as you are to penetrate his ; so 
 that, instead of the solemn thoughts I had expected to 
 have had throngiog upon me at this first interview, 
 what think you was the meditation that chiefly occupied 
 me ? I found myself wondering how (indented so 
 deeply as are those wrinkles of his) he ever contrives to 
 wash his face ; and half the time we were holding our 
 lame discourse together, I was intently marvelling whe- 
 ther the dirt, as well as the wisdom, of years might not 
 still be embedded amongst this ancient tracery of Time's 
 own chiselling. Nevertheless, though a little disap- 
 pointed in the impression he makes on me, the old 
 fellow is still worth much in the family group, were it 
 but for the sake of the picturesque. When out of doors 
 he wears an odd-looking fur cap, and reminds me so 
 much of Kembrandt's old men, that I found myself 
 yesterday murmuring as he approached, ^ Here comes 
 the Burgomaster ! ' And upon me such impressions 
 must act far more powerfully than upon those who 
 retain their senses entire. To the most imaginative the 
 voice of one speaking as good English as themselves, 
 
THE JUDGMENT OF THE EYE. 151 
 
 would tend greatly to break a spell like this ; but the 
 freest scope is afforded me for any fanciful illusion I 
 may choose to entertain— old Divet may be talking 
 low Dutch or law Latin for aught I can tell to the 
 contrary. 
 
 "The eldest daughter, judging by her countenance 
 and the concise and well-turned sentences which flow 
 readily from her pen, when she communicates with me 
 by writing, partakes much of her grandsire's acuteness, 
 though it was not shown in one material part of her 
 conduct— her marrying a young husband, the mauvais 
 sujet of the family. Her widowed cousin, a gentle 
 person who is often at the house, and who has still an 
 air of solemnity rather pleasing to one who would fain 
 hope there is yet something like fidelity left amongst 
 women — in her I should have taken more interest, if she 
 had not unluckily shown me a miniature of him she 
 mourns. I thought it a particular mark of her con- 
 sideration ; for I flatter myself I am as easily imposed on 
 by a supposed compliment as the sharpest hearer among 
 you all ; but I have since observed that she discloses 
 the treasure to every stranger who falls in her way, and 
 my vanity has proportionably subsided. But the 
 picture, Cranston— such a face ! So flat, so meaningless, 
 so much the colour of the dirty-looking whiskers ; and 
 when I woukl have encouraged the charitable hope that 
 the artist had belied him, I was told— and she wrote it 
 upon a slate, so there could be no mistake in the matter 
 —that it was ^ such a likeness to mv dear Josiah!' I 
 know not, by the by, from what fatality it proceeds 
 
152 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 that almost every body here, and every body connected 
 with every body else, is immed out of the Old Testament. 
 It is woeful to think how much carelessness, if not posi- 
 tive presumption, is displayed in the earliest religious 
 rite we l;estow upon our children. We talk of our 
 unworthiness, and make even a boast of our humility, and 
 forthwith exemplify it by calling the poor, little, puling 
 inheritors of our errors and our shame, after those 
 stupendous mortals who were consecrated as priests and 
 leaders of a chosen race — associated with whose names 
 are the highest and the holiest deeds and facts, towards 
 which we ought to look only with fear and reverence. 
 And if such names were bestowed reverentially, as trust- 
 ing that they might prove words of power and a shield of 
 defence against the arrows of Apollyon — if the child, as 
 he grew and comprehended, should feel his heart enlarged, 
 and his good intentions strengthened, by the example of 
 some mighty namesake — or if the man was induced to 
 stop in his wild career, and weep and shudder to think 
 how a holy name was suffering degradation through its 
 affinity to himself — then indeed there might be some 
 excuse for the practice ; but is there one in a million 
 who ever dreams that he ought to be a better man be- 
 cause his name is David or Joshua, Mark or John? No, 
 not one ! He looks back but to the creatures of his own 
 century and his own stamp, who have borne it before 
 him, and have mangled it by childish abbreviations, 
 and abused it as a thing of common use ; he never casts 
 a thought on the Hebrew hero or the Christian saint 
 from whom it was originally derived. For the sake of 
 
THE JUDGMENT OF THE EYE. 153 
 
 all tliat is venerable, my dear Kicliardj do your best to 
 discountenance this custom amongst your rural popula- 
 tion ; at all events, stand godfather as often as you can, 
 and inflict upon the unconscious innocent at the font no- 
 thing more sacred than your own crusading appellation. 
 " There is still another of the household here who must 
 not be overlooked, were it only out of a sort of gratitude 
 due to her for forming by far its handsomest portion. 
 This is a young lady shortly to be married to Colonel 
 Hussey, an officer in the artillery, and a relation of the 
 Divets. He is considerably older than his fiancee ; but 
 if my skill in physiognomy is still to be trusted, she is 
 capable of a steady attachment — and a happy man is the 
 Lieutenant- Colonel, if indeed I judge her fau'ly. They 
 tell me she has seen much suffering^ the death of friends 
 and troubles of various kinds, which accounts for a cer- 
 tain calm fixed look, speaking more of sorrow that has' 
 been, than of joy to come. It is this peculiarity of ex- 
 pression that attracts my notice more than the actual 
 beauty of her countenance ; and you would think it 
 strange (being such as I describe her) that she should 
 ever remind me of Barbara, but it is simply the force of 
 contrast which, as I behold Miss Palliser, brings before 
 me one whom it is my constant effort to diive for ever 
 from my thoughts. I defy you to find two crea- 
 tures of the same sex, both of indisputable beauty, 
 so utterly opposed in their general expression — the one so 
 bright, so airy in all her movements, the smile and the 
 frown almost equally bewitching, chasing each other over 
 her features, and her colour varying with every word she 
 
154 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 heard or uttered. Nay, I have sat — fool that I was ! — and 
 seen her when there was unbroken silence, and she, un- 
 conscious of being watched, and even then have fancied 
 I could divine much that was passing in her mind from 
 the play of her tell-tale looks. How strangely different 
 is this from Colonel Hussey's betrothed ! A settled re- 
 pose sits upon her well-cut features, which seem as if 
 disdaining to give way to the call of any ordinary im- 
 pulse. Of course, it is not the repose of inanity, or I 
 should not waste my time in remarking it ; but rather a 
 look which seems to imply that she is bearing with the 
 people and pursuits of common life, while her mind is 
 intent on something of a different, and I should think a 
 higher, nature. And yet she wants not observation on 
 what may be passing. I see her eyes, which are singu- 
 larly fine (quite unlike Barbara's, but beautiful in their 
 way), travel steadily from one to another as conversation 
 is proceeding, with what is evidently an intense power 
 of observation. So unlike this to the rapid glance of my 
 lost one, which took in and estimated character with 
 what seemed an intuitive faculty. The Colonel, too, is 
 one of those calm collected spirits, so they will suit each 
 other well — apparently, at least, he partakes of her grave 
 solidity. Ah, Cranston, how often I am obliged to use 
 that word ^ apparently ! ' Now all to me, especially on 
 new acquaintance, is made up of guess-work : the exte- 
 rior — the surface — only can be my guide ; and, though I 
 may still amuse myself with speculations such as these, 
 I often think how vain and far from the actual truth 
 they may really be. But the analysis of the human 
 
THE JUDGMENT OF THE EYE. 155 
 
 mind was always a delightful study to me, and I cannot 
 give it up, though I may be but stumbling in the dark 
 all the while." 
 
 Miss Palliser would have told Mr. Frere, that indeed 
 he luas groping his way along a pathway full of dazzling 
 lights and false appearances — most grievously deceiving 
 himself in his estimate of the associates amongst whom 
 his strange fate had cast him. Struck especially by Colo- 
 nel Hussey's parting words, a little attention to what 
 was passing in this united household convinced her 
 that the Divets, in their plausible behaviour to their deaf 
 guest, aimed at some advantage more personal to them- 
 selves than the soothing his mental disquietude, or con- 
 tributing to his corporeal comfort. They might easily 
 have kept their designs from her had they scrupled ad- 
 mitting her into their counsels; for her suddenly conceived 
 interest in Mr. Frere (a sentiment which increased with 
 all she saw or heard of him) would well have accounted 
 to her for any degree of civility they might have chosen 
 to lavish on one so good and afflicted — the Divets would 
 only have risen in her esteem from their warm apprecia- 
 tion of his merits. And pleasanter would it have been 
 to her to be so deceived ; for the insight she obtained of 
 their proceedings, opened to her a prospect which sadly ac- 
 corded with the dark view she was disposed to take of 
 society in general, and her entertainers in particular; 
 but her engagement with their cousin caused them to 
 regard her as already one of themselves ; and although 
 there was at first a slight effort made to veil their inten- 
 tions from her, as well as the neighbourhood at large. 
 
156 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 their solicitude to deceive lier soon subsided. Ivlaria was 
 cold and retiring, and they thought her indifferent ; nor 
 would it have been important to them had the true 
 opinion of their machinations been openly proclaimed : it 
 was only to oblige her lover that she had been admitted 
 amongst them at all ; and further than keeping on terms 
 of decent cordiality with the future Mrs. Hussey, they 
 cared not to proceed in the intimacy. She was at full 
 liberty to come or to go — to remain hours together in 
 her own chamber, or to seek their society below — to par- 
 take their conversation, or rest profoundly silent. Under 
 all circumstances in which she might choose to dwell 
 amongst them, they showed themselves equally polite, 
 and just as really careless of her and the estimation in 
 which she held them. 
 
LA SON^^A^IBULA. 157 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 LA SONXAMBULA. 
 
 Perhaps the strangest part of the matter consisted in 
 the behaviour of Miss Palliser herself, who took much 
 less advantage of the liberty thus afforded her than 
 might have been expected ; for surely it was a mode of 
 conduct which would have seemed most reconcilable 
 with her reserved character, and her aversion to the 
 family amongst whom she was dwelling. In writing to 
 her one confidential friend, she herself adverted to this 
 apparent inconsistency of conduct. 
 
 " I had looked forward," she said, " to having so much 
 time to myself, being now freed from the harassing yet un- 
 interesting business which has fallen upon me since my 
 uncle's death. I quite reckoned on so much leisure not 
 only for writing to you and the Colonel, but for setting 
 my own thoughts in order, and looking steadily into the 
 grave face of the future — for a grave face it is. Lucy, 
 tranquil enough in its present expression, but displaying 
 always something of an awful aspect to one w^ho thinks 
 of marriage as seriously as I do. After all, perhaps, it is 
 a fortunate arrangement for me that I should not be 
 entirely given up to solitary musing ; the future I can 
 
158 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 as little foresee and estimate as I can (now) control it ; 
 and as to thinking of the past, and whether this or that 
 would have been better for me — it is possible there 
 might be more danger than profit in such cogitating : 
 boldly as I combated your friendly warnings, self- 
 examinatioUj if persisted in too long and too minutely, 
 might tend to creating doubts which, in my position, it 
 would be almost a crime to admit. Somebody has said 
 that an inordinate anxiety as to the health of the body 
 commonly leads to the death of the self-tormenting 
 patient ; whilst the same degree of attention concentrated 
 on the movements and affections of the soul, is scarcely 
 less likely to consign its subject to the wards of a mad- 
 house. And so, in order to preserve my senses entire, I 
 will encourage myself in studying the people about me — 
 the Divets or any one else — who may afford me diversion 
 for the moment, and wean me from meditating on myself 
 and my future condition. It is not, however, the Divets 
 alone who entice me from my beloved solitude ; but their 
 behaviour in reference to another person which is attract- 
 ing my curiosity — a guest of theirs, who stands in no sort 
 of relationship to them. Heaven knows, the antipodes 
 are not further apart than they and Mr. Frere !" Then, 
 having given her friend a sketch of her fellow-lodger, 
 his worth, misfortunes, and position in the family, Miss 
 Palliser continued — " And this gentleman, Lucy, so 
 distinguished by birth and accomplishments, so highly 
 connected, and endowed with an almost princely fortune 
 (without this last advantage I am convinced the game 
 I am looking over w^ould never have been played) ; but 
 
LA sonna:mbula. 159 
 
 fancy the presumption of the Divets — they are actually 
 hoping to decoy him into a marriage with one of them- 
 selves ! I wish you knew all the persons engaged in 
 this precious plot, that you might thoroughly compre- 
 hend its absurdity. This noble-minded and high-bred 
 man — this perfect gentleman — whom, in spite of his one 
 disadvantage, nobody can behold without admiration and 
 respect — he is to be exalted to the high honour of taking 
 to wife Miss Phebe Divet, the youngest daughter of his 
 father s old steward ! If it were not for my intimate 
 conviction of the mortification they are preparing for 
 themselves, I should be more indignant still ; but now 
 I feel a sort of malicious amusement as I watch their 
 manceuvres, and think of the disappointment that awaits 
 them — ^how richly deserved ! But oh, Lucy, if I had 
 been told that a time would ever come when I should 
 like any one the better for being deaf, how little credit 
 should I have given to the prophecy ! yet there is no 
 doubt but my interest in Mr. Frere is chiefly derived 
 from this circumstance. Had he his hearing he would 
 still no doubt be a charming person ; but it would be 
 only in the sense in which any other agreeable man 
 must be acceptable in society. I might welcome his 
 presence amongst us, but the sort of sentiment that now 
 attaches to him would be wholly wanting ; for though 
 he might be saying and doing every thing very plea- 
 santly, and with a grace unknown at Etheridge, still he 
 would be gossiping and jesting with the Divets, their 
 topics of conversation would be in common ; and, superior 
 as he must ever appear to these people, he would of 
 
160 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 necessity be mixed up in some measm^e with them and 
 their concerns. But this bereavement of his causes him 
 now to live and move so thoroughly apart from every 
 inferior creature ; and while he seems to associate 
 intimately with them, his whole being is so distinct from 
 theirs, that no lowering impression can adhere to him, or 
 taint the pure atmosphere which now surrounds him. 
 Often, when I am half-disgusted at the low tone of 
 feeling or expression which prevails throughout the 
 house — a something hardly to be defined, but which 
 creeps like an impure stream under their external frank- 
 ness and good-humour — the sight of Mr. Frere seems at 
 once to sooth and refresh my spirits, and in the calm of 
 his presence, the peace and purity it diffuses around 
 him, I can tolerate even the company of the Divets. I 
 like, you know, to analyse our governing motives ; and it 
 seems to me that the sort of interest I take in this 
 gentleman, is exactly the same kindly humanity which 
 causes men to regard women and children, and all 
 defenceless creatures {excejyt the animals they hunt to 
 death), with a tender indulgence — they cherish and even 
 honour them on account of their very helplessness. And 
 thus it is with Mr. Frere. Strong as he is in frame and 
 intellect, and looking all-sufficient to himself, one knows 
 there are so many ways in which he may be obliged to 
 us for our assistance — the weakest and most insignificant 
 of creatures, even I myself, may lay him under some such 
 gentle obligation. Surely there is something touching 
 in this reflection ; at all events, without hurting his 
 character, it tends to bring him down a little to my own 
 
LA SONNAMBULA. 161 
 
 standard. If he had been capable of heariag every silly 
 thing: I uttered, I midit have been afraid of him, and 
 shy of expressing myself in tlie presence of his com- 
 manding mind ; but now, all the while I am most 
 conscious of his superiority, I can approach him on 
 terms of something like equality, and slight as may be 
 the service I am seeking to render him — the writing a 
 sentence or two, or inventing a sign that may better 
 enlighten him — it forms such an intimate, though un- 
 avoidable connection between us, as under no other 
 circumstances could possibly have been established. 
 
 " I wish Colonel Hussey participated more in my esti- 
 mation of Mr. Frere ; but, instead of regarding it as a 
 privilege to be domesticated with such a man (/ see it 
 in no other light), he mentions him in the patronising 
 tone which offends me so much in the Divets. They 
 affect a sort of compassion which strikes me as the height 
 of impertinence. It is always ' poor Frere !' — or ' their 
 dear but unfortunate friend ' — as if, by means of these 
 pitiful epithets, they could degrade him to a level with 
 themselves. And yet this sickly jargon prevents them 
 not from uttering many a coarse unfeeling remark upon 
 him, even before his very face, he all the while return- 
 ing their double-faced civilities with such a confiding 
 expression. I cannot tell you how much this affects 
 me, and I wish the Colonel did not identify himself so 
 much with these cousins of his ; it is unworthy of him ! 
 Even their matrimonial views upon this gentleman fail 
 to strike him in all their enormity ; and I can see by the 
 tone of his last letter that he is not pleased with my 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
162 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 strictures on the subject, and has the bad taste (I must 
 call it so) to tell me that such an alliance would be 
 more to the advantage of Mr. Frere than that of the 
 woman he honours with his choice. I shall, therefore, 
 say no more to him on this head, for I have no reliance 
 on my powers of argument or persuasion ; still it grieves 
 me to find him so mistaken. It must arise either from 
 the silly reason that these people, being his relations, are 
 not to be censured even by his future wife, or that he is 
 really incapable of reading character, and in either case 
 his blindness is little to his credit. I suppose this topic 
 is to be added to the list of others, already too long, on 
 which we can never discourse without jarring in our 
 opinions. I confess it would have pleased me that there 
 should have been one subject — if only one — on which 
 we might have spoken together in the assurance of a full 
 and entire sympathy. If such a unity ever subsists be- 
 tween man and woman, it must be singularly delightful. 
 Having never experienced or observed such a reciprocity 
 of sentiment, I used to deny the possibility of its exist- 
 ence, and thought the Colonel and I were but types of 
 all engaged or married people — he, as the masculine 
 mind, the better reasoner and declaimer, giving the tone 
 and turn to the discourse whatever it might touch on ; 
 I, on the weaker side, modifying my real opinions, so that 
 they should not clash with his; or — if this could not be — 
 taking refuge in a prudent silence. But I begin now to 
 fancy that there may be exceptions— rare, very rare 
 ones — but still occasional exceptions, to a rule which 
 speaks so ill for the happiness of married life. You 
 
LA SONNAIVIBULA. 1^3 
 
 must not here mistake my meaning, however, or fancy 
 that, with regard to every trifling question, I would de- 
 sire a perfect unanimity ; but I would, if it were pos- 
 sible to obtain it, have such thorough reliance on my 
 lover or husband, that, even when he differed from me, 
 I should never be tempted to doubt the purity of his 
 motives or the strength of his capacity. And then, 
 Lucy, the delight — I can even imagine that — the sort of 
 pride, one would feel in yielding one's judgment to his ; 
 in acknowledging the vast superiority of a highly gifted 
 man over a woman of moderate understanding — that 
 man too, that glorious emanation of the divinity, being 
 he who had chosen you with all your imperfections — 
 chosen you to be his own, whose existence you were to 
 share in this world ; and if, indeed, there be a world be- 
 yond the grave, even there, along that unknown, vast, 
 and most awful path you would walk hand in hand to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Some notion of a union like this might perhaps have 
 been formed had Mr. Frere retained his hearing, and 
 Miss Girdlestone never been tempted to desert him, for 
 she is described as being (except in this one fatal action) 
 a most charming person ; nor, in fact, can one imagine 
 Mr. Frere endowing any inferior creature with the trea- 
 sure of his love. How one would like to follow out their 
 story to the end, and, reading the hearts of both, discover 
 if she has ever repented her conduct to him ; and whether 
 he yet retains any lingering tenderness towards her who 
 has so wronged him. It is the fashion here to suppose 
 him still suffering and given over to vain regrets — I 
 
164 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 imagine because thej flatter themselves that in that 
 case he will be more easily ensnared again ; for I ob- 
 serve Mrs. George casts a peculiar look at her grand- 
 father — with all his weight of years, her chief and most 
 enterprising confidant — as she makes some hypocritical 
 remark about ' poor Mr. Frere wanting somebody — 
 some nice, kind, young creature to comfort him/ Then 
 the old man, with his low jeering laugh, which I never 
 hear without a shudder, answers her, that ' Perhaps some 
 considerate damsel may be found to submit to this self- 
 sacrifice ; ' and the widow who, with all her affected 
 fondness for her grandfather, does not half comprehend 
 his jokes, thinks ^ There would be no such wonderful 
 sacrifice in the matter/ ^ But the moral danger, my 
 child, what think you of that ? ' the old man says, as he 
 puckers his wrinkled face into its most fox-like expres- 
 sion, and eyes his unconscious guest ; ' the soul's risk, 
 which you know is always the greatest when the body 
 fares best, and sleeps softest. Oh, it's a wonderful trial, 
 ray children — a sharp course of discipline — to come at 
 once into possession of two fine estates and a mansion in 
 London, with servants, and horses, and equipages ! why, 
 any young person who should venture on such a perilous 
 undertaking, might even be required to go to Court ! 
 Ha, ha ! and is not that an alarming thought, my dears ? ' 
 and then the horrid old fellow looks from one to the 
 other under his shaggy eyebrows, with an expression I 
 cannot describe ; and all the rest laugh heartily and 
 seem wonderfully pleased with the suggestion. ^ And, 
 talking of carriages, that reminds me by the by (it is 
 
^ LA SONNAMBULA. 165 
 
 ]\Tr. David Divet who speaks now), if this young man 
 does not go abroad — if any thing, you know, sliould happen 
 to prevent his paying a visit immediately to foreign 
 parts — any pleasant little inducement for staying at 
 home, ahem ! ' and he nods his odious head, though one 
 glance of old Jesse's is worth all his son's grimacing. 
 ' In that case there must be an entirely new equipage ; 
 it shows how necessary a lady is in that establishment. 
 The stud is still excellent, that has always been kept up ; 
 but the large carriage, the family coach, is literally no 
 better than a tub — ay, and an old-fashioned tub, too. If 
 his poor mother had lived, things would have been on a 
 very different footing.' ' A touching reflection, David ! ' 
 ^ Very touching indeed, my dear ; and yet, do you know, 
 on some accounts I am disposed to think it may be as well 
 that his poor mother did not live — the best of mothers 
 are sometimes a little in the way ; ' and at this they all 
 laugh and call him ^naughty grandpapa," and look at 
 me as if they reckoned on my participating in their 
 abominable mirth. And then that charming Mr. Frere 
 looks up from his book or his writing, and, seeing how 
 lively they are, fancies it some cheerful domestic scene, 
 and regards them so benevolently, that, if they were not 
 quite impervious to sliamo, even the oldest and worst of 
 the lot must blush before him. 
 
 " I try sometimes to repeat their very words as far as 
 I can recollect them, that you may become acquainted 
 with these people, and .sliare a little of my feelings 
 towards them. The Colonel's unfortunate partiality in 
 their favour prevents me, as you perceive, from making 
 
166 THE THREE CH.\NCES. 
 
 liim the recipient of my censure, and an awkward thing 
 it is for me ; for as the Divets necessarily occupy so much 
 of my thoughts, I really have some difficulty in making 
 out my letters for him, he of course expecting me to 
 write frequently and at length. This shews the impossi- 
 bility of our having more than one correspondent to 
 whom we can open ourselves with perfect unreserve ; and 
 it^happens that on this very subject I can quote the 
 authority of the person I have been telling you about. 
 Mr. Frere writes a great deal, for his connections are 
 extensive. Seeing him busy yesterday sealing half a 
 dozen letters, I said — (that is, I wrote on his tablets, 
 of course ; it is only in that way we can converse 
 with any fluency, and I am getting already accustomed 
 to it) — I said to him then, ^ How many friends you 
 must have ! ' his reply pleased me so much, for, glancing 
 at what I had written, he gave me one of his expressive 
 smiles and said, * Many relations and a great many 
 acquaintance ; many in whom I am interested, and a 
 few who are interested in me ; but only one friend ! * 
 And as he spoke he laid his hand on one of the letters 
 before him (it was evidently the longest there), with 
 what I should call an air of fond reverence, and, shewing 
 me the direction on it, I saw it was to a Mr. Cranston, a 
 clergyman in Shropshire, and I remembered hearing 
 that this gentleman was his bosom friend — for in fact 
 the closeness of their correspondence excites the ridicule 
 of this wretched family, who are themselves so incai)able 
 of a disinterested or fine feeling. How I wish the 
 Colonel had been this dear and confidential friend ! He 
 
LA SONNAMBULA. 167 
 
 would thea have known how to appreciate Mr. Frere, 
 and I should be spared the mortification of feeKng 
 myself in some sort leagued with these Divets, and 
 sharing in the disgrace attaching to their base and paltry 
 manoeuvres. 
 
 " But was not this a charming reply ? I have always, 
 as you may remember, maintained that friendship, like 
 love, can have but a single real object ; yet I should 
 never have ventured to adduce my own example in 
 support of the opinion ; for though internally assured 
 that nobody besides yourself will ever be confidant of 
 mine, I know how easily it might be retorted that I was 
 too frigid and unconciliating to make many friends. 
 Now, no one can say so of this amiable and accomplished 
 man ; and I am delighted to think how — though uncon- 
 sciously — I have been participating his sentiments." 
 
 Miss Palliser was a candid person, and would not 
 knowingly have thrown a false gloss over her motives 
 and actions ; we will charitably believe, therefore, that in 
 seeking to mislead her friend she was but repeating the 
 mode of self-deception through which her own usually 
 calm judgment was now effectually hoodwinked. We 
 see how hard she works to make it appear that it is 
 Frere's loss of hearing that renders him so much the 
 subject of her compassionate consideration, and perhaps 
 she was justified in saying that, but for this peculiarity, 
 he would have remained comparatively indifferent to 
 her. Yet there is one short question which, if she had 
 put it to her own heart, asking it in honesty and simple 
 truth, might, we think, have settled the point definitively, 
 
168 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 and if sincerely answered must have roused her to the 
 enormity of her danger, and the depth of the precipice 
 towards which she was so gently yet swiftly advancing. 
 The question is this : supposing the subject on whom 
 this ingenious family were practising had been sixty or 
 seventy years of age, and, wholly destitute of any outward 
 grace of person or demeanour, he would still have been 
 adapted to the matrimonial designs of the Divets, they 
 would have been as culpable in pursuing these designs, and 
 he deaf, and in a measure defenceless, would have been in 
 fact equally worthy the commiseration of a high-minded 
 woman ; but would Maria have taken the same amount of 
 interest in his fate, that she bestowed so willingly in the 
 case of the actual Manley Frere ? Would she have left 
 pondering on her own private affairs to attend to his, 
 and have spent so much of her time in observing and 
 dilating on the proceedings of the Divets ? The 
 better to decide the matter, let us for once employ a little 
 machinery, borrow the wand of Harlequin, and, chang- 
 ing cloth of gold into cloth of frieze, see then how the 
 case may stand. Such mental transformations may 
 oftener, than some of us are aware, be carried on with 
 advantage. We look, then, at Manley Frere under the 
 pleasant form in which we desire to present him to the 
 reader : he occupies a seat near one of the drawing-room 
 windows, and his attention being riveted on the book 
 before him, he is at present in a perfect repose. Yet 
 there is that in his appearance that convinces you at a 
 glance of his being a person of no ordinary stamp ; per- 
 haps this conviction, so instantly felt, but hard to be 
 
LA SOXNAMBULA. 169 
 
 defined, results in great measure from Ins easy and un- 
 studied air, so unlike the natural awkwardness and 
 acquired conceit which characterises civilized man in 
 general. 
 
 Roused from his occupation to attend to somebody 
 who addresses him, his face assumes the wistful look of 
 deafness which we have elsewhere alluded to ; but in him 
 there is nothing debasing in the expression, nor in any 
 way painful to the observer. It is merely that of a 
 strong mind opposing itself against some adverse power ; 
 some material barrier obstructs the action of the eager 
 spirit ; something of brute force is to be overcome before 
 he can master the subject presented to him ; but that 
 subject being perhaps only some question of trivial 
 importance, you do but regret that his time should be 
 wasted, and his intellect taxed, for such an inferior 
 purpose. He loses nothing of dignity or grace, but in 
 that dubious, earnest, inquiring look you seem to be 
 reminded of the two existences of Mauley Frere ; that 
 which he has so lately known, where all was light and 
 certainty, and the dim, doubtful life he is henceforward 
 to endure. Touched, as well as interested, vou wish he 
 would not lavish such lively and anxious conjecture on 
 what you know is not worth the trouble he takes to 
 understand it ; and as for his divining what is intended 
 by the countenance of the speaker, why it is the quiet 
 widow, who has looked in, as she passes the door, to 
 inquire after her dear grandpapa, and who now accosts 
 liim ; and a lifelong course of affectation has years ago 
 deprived her face of all the natural expression which 
 
170 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 should have guided him to her meaning. So both 
 being foiled, forth come his tablets or her little slate, 
 when Mrs. George Barclay, ever equal to the business 
 in hand, places herself en rapport with him, and (with or 
 without mesmerism, who shall affirm ?) the matter is 
 somehow made clear to his comprehension long before the 
 gentle Priscilla, writing her most legible hand, and mind- 
 ing all her stops, has put down half she has to say. A 
 littJe bickering we may presume to pass between the 
 cousius ; for Mrs. George has no objection to annoy the 
 widow by the display of her quicker faculties. Then, 
 litile dreaming that he is the cause of ill-will between two 
 ladies who seem to regard each other so affectionately, 
 he holds out his arms to the widow's little girl, enticing 
 her to play with him ; or he caresses the dogs, his constant 
 companions, and has even a smile for the antics of the 
 kitten sporting at his feet ; and, interested by the pecu- 
 liarity which attends him, you sympathize entirely with 
 Miss Palliser, who, quiet and unassuming, at her post 
 of observation, thinks she can read in even his most 
 trifling gesture the depth of Mr. Frere's reflection and 
 sensibility. 
 
 So much for cloth of gold ! for we are willing to 
 acknowledge the intrinsic worth of the material, though 
 the fancy of the beholder may chance to overlay it with 
 an embroidery not entirely its own. And now for cloth 
 of frieze, which, though it be dull to look upon, proves 
 often a stout and serviceable stuff, and, did merit alone 
 carry the day, might claim some portion of the silk and 
 seed-pearl which adorns the brighter texture ; let us see 
 
LA SONNA^IBULA. 171 
 
 if, in this instance, it stands any chance of being so orna- 
 mented by female fancy. Harlequin waves his wand, 
 and a wonderful change comes over the person I have 
 been describing. For old acquaintance sake we will still 
 call him Manley Frere — but, look ! the complexion of 
 that unfortunate gentleman is assuming a dingy hue, 
 which deepens in certain portions of it even to the orange- 
 tawney, while the nose is growing positively red. And 
 his jaws sink in, and his cheeks pufip out, and the broad 
 dimensions of that forehead shrink, and as a miserable 
 compensation it rises into the form of a sugar-loaf, and 
 is crowned with baldness and grey hairs. In short, the 
 gentleman is grown old ; he is still uncommonly hard 
 of hearing, quite as unlucky in that respect as the other 
 Mr. Frere ; but this one is old and ugly to boot, has an 
 awkward gait, and sits uncouthly in his chair. Struck 
 with this display of Harlequin's miraculous power, we 
 turn to see what Miss Palliser thinks of the change ; but 
 she is no longer filling either of her accustomed places 
 in the drawing-room. She is sitting in her own cham- 
 ber, where they tell us she has been all the morning. 
 So we follow her up-stairs, and, opening her door, look 
 quietly in, and find her at her table writing with an 
 untiring though deliberate hand, and a face of calm 
 content. She is finishing a letter to her lover. Colonel 
 Hussey ; and, when observing how well she is engaged, 
 we retreat and try to shut the door without disturbing 
 her ; she calls us back, and inquires, in her placid way, 
 if we can tell her who is in the drawing-room ; '• for I 
 am nearly ready to go down/' she says, "but would 
 
172 THE THREE Cm\J^'CES. 
 
 rather stay till Mr. Frere goes to take bis walk. Poor 
 man, be is very good I dare say — very benevolent and 
 worthy, but —he bores me sadly ! and I talked myself 
 quite hoarse last night trying to make him hear me." 
 
 The \dsion seems fantastic ; though founded on some 
 acquaintance with human nature and the heart of woman- 
 kind, it is not altogether a baseless fabric or an idle 
 dream ; and if, presuming on the hint it affords us of 
 what was passing within that of i\Iiss Palliser, we are 
 too harsh in our judgment of that young lady, we shall 
 surely err on the uncharitable side. We may condole 
 over mortal frailty and its consequences, frown at Maria, 
 and be sorrv for the Colonel, but her self-delusion has the 
 excuse of being — in this stage of her history at least — 
 sincere. She believes the strongest emotion which 
 animates her to be her aversion to the Divets, never sus- 
 pecting that a passion far stronger and infinitely more 
 dangerous than that long-cherished hatred, is beginning to 
 work under the smooth surface of her outward demean- 
 our — a passion which tlireatens to exercise its power 
 over her with a strength and pertinacity in full proportion 
 to her vain-glorious boasting, and the proud indepen- 
 dence with which we have seen her spurn the charge of 
 being subject to the weaknesses of her sex and age. 
 And even for this grievous mistake her previous life and 
 education offered a fair apology. 
 
 In the dreary repose of an existence singularly grave 
 and monotonous for one so young — the same impres- 
 sions, the same thoughts, feelings, and desires, recurring 
 hour by hour, and day by day, with rarely a fresh inci- 
 
LA S0NNA3IBUL-V. 173 
 
 dent to stir the dead sea in wliicli she was becalmed ; 
 no wonder was it that her mind seemed to her, as she 
 examined its organization with an ahuost impertinent 
 curiosity, to partake of the same torpid character, till she 
 was led, in the presumption of her supposed self-know- 
 ledge, to argue from the present to the future, and to 
 conclude that, because she could curb her temper and 
 preserve her serenity in the ordinary trials of daily life, 
 she should be equally capable, in a more extended and 
 exciting sphere of action, of suppressing the deeper emo- 
 tions to which she might then be subjected. It even ap- 
 pears from her correspondence with Miss Ainsworth, 
 that she did not so much value herself on her assumed 
 exemption from these trials of the heart, but rather 
 held the depressing belief that hers, chilled by icy ex- 
 perience and morbid melancholy, had long been rendered 
 callous, and hardened irreparably against any such 
 natural impulses. Divested of this delusion, this un- 
 affected blindness to the abyss down which she was plun- 
 ging, her fate would have been no more worthy of sym- 
 pathy or record than that of any heartless flirt, who, 
 eno-ao-ino- herself from motives of worldly convenience, 
 subsequently plays false wdth some gayer and gaudier 
 idol. But this was no fair description of Colonel 
 Hussey's affianced love. Singularly modest and dis- 
 trustful of the attractions she really possessed, prone to 
 reflection, and painfully anatomizing her own sensations, 
 we give her implicit belief when she tells her friend 
 that, but for the grievous infirmity which had bowed 
 jManley Fiere to the earth, he would have been an ob- 
 
174 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 ject of comparative indifference to her. She would have 
 acknowledged his worth, and have admired his accom- 
 plishments : but the very pleasure inspired by his strik- 
 ing merits being so new to her, would in itself have 
 served to startle and put her on her guard. 
 
 Now, however, the danger came in such an unwonted 
 shape, and was hidden under a pretence so specious, that, 
 if evil spirits do really walk the earth to tempt and mis- 
 lead us, it must have been one of the subtlest of them 
 who wove and spread the net for the destruction of this 
 poor Maria. It was the deafness of Alanley Frere, and 
 that alone, which forced them so immediately into con- 
 tact, and entailed such a sudden and unwonted famili- 
 arity. A very few days — nay, even a few short interviews 
 — brought on (and that in the most natural manner) a 
 warmth of intimacy which it would have required weeks 
 and months to establish but for this peculiar state of 
 things, which in truth could hardly have been induced 
 at all under other circumstances. 
 
 In the case of any other young and handsome man 
 how cautious would she have been, how fearful of 
 provoking the reproach of forwardness ; but here, so far 
 from dreading any censure of the sort, it was held by all 
 who approached him to be a duty, or rather a necessity 
 — a matter of course — to be kind and attentive to the 
 unfortunate Mr. Frere, that innocent victim of a hopeless 
 calamity ! In every letter Colonel Hussey was still 
 asking her, " How she made it out with poor Frere ? " 
 and more than once she received the thanks of the family 
 while exerting herself to be of use to their bereaved 
 
LA SONNAMBULA. 175 
 
 friend. With such open and honourable encouragement 
 to bear out and sanctify her secret inclinations, who 
 shall pronounce her inexcusable for indulging them ? 
 Even with all these aids to backsliding, it required an 
 effort for one so shy and diffident to court the notice of 
 a stranger ; but the attempt once made, it became each 
 time less difficult, till very soon IMiss Palliser was far 
 more at her ease with Manley Frere than with any other 
 member of the household. 
 
 Then came that dangerous point in their acquaintance- 
 ship, when, finding how quickly he interpreted her 
 meaning— seizing it as if by intuition long ere the 
 sentence was written down — then it was that the pen 
 became subservient to a much quicker and more inspirit- 
 ing agent, and the modest Maria Palliser, who on ordi- 
 nary occasions shrank so unaffectedly from the gaze of 
 man, now in all innocence courted and encouraged it ; 
 and, the better to convey her meaning to Mr. Frere, 
 would stop in her scribbling labours, and form her lips 
 to indicate the sounds he could not hear, and encourage 
 him to scan the expression of her face, while she looked 
 into his eyes to see how far she was successful. 
 
 Still was there nothing in all this that could fall under 
 the imputation of ogling ; for it was done openly and 
 fairly, as in the common way of business. Something 
 was to be told to one who could not, alas ! distin2:uish 
 the voice of the speaker ; and if it was proved that such 
 information could be better conveyed by a look than a 
 word — by a living glance than a scrape of the pen, surely 
 no woman, let her be ever so young and handsome, 
 
176 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 could be justly censured for adopting ibis natural course 
 of communication. 
 
 And even supposing a scruple bad occurred to cbeck 
 tbe progress of tbeir intimacy, tbere were circumstances 
 attacbing to eacb wbicb would soon bave reassured 
 tbem. Frere, tbougb be possessed far too mucb taste 
 to be insensible to tbe cbarms of tbe lady wbo was 
 amusing bim so intelligently, bebeld tbem as tbe cbarter- 
 ed property of anotber, and bad in bis altered condition 
 too bumble an opinion of bis own claims as a member 
 of society, to suppose tbat tbe ColoneFs riglits were 
 liable to be endangered by tbem. Wbile, on tbe otber 
 hand, Miss Palbser, in tbe pensive abstraction of ber 
 new acquaintance, read a full assurance tbat bis unfortu- 
 nate attachment still tyrannized over bim. 
 
 " The fond yet hopeless lover of Barbara Girdlestone, 
 might safely bold friendly intercourse with Colonel 
 Hussey's affianced bride." Perhaps she made a mistake 
 in thus arguing ; but it was an error so plausible that it 
 might well have misled a more experienced reasoner. 
 
 And so tbe intimacy grew and prospered, and, taking 
 all things in extenuation, we may surely be justified in 
 saying, tbat seldom has weak woman bad more excuse 
 for stumbling, than had Maria Palbser when she fell in 
 love with Manley Frere ! Tbe fair warbler wbo, at 
 sundry periods during the operatic season, emerges from 
 her garret window in her little white petticoat, to piiss 
 lantern in band over points of danger which, in her 
 waking state, her blood would bave curdled on beholding, 
 is not to be presumed more effectually asleep to the 
 
La sonnambula. 177 
 
 perils surrounding her than the unfortunate Maria, when 
 she held on her smooth descent amongst the shoals and 
 pitfalls of Etheridge mansion-house ; the fact that her 
 delusion sprang rather from mental than physical causes, 
 rendering it only the more desperate case of the two. 
 The Swiss girl drops her lantern in the dark waters 
 that foam and gurgle beneath her feet, yet gets safely 
 to earth without it ; but the flickering flame which lights 
 our luckless Prima Donna, is but some will-o'-the-wisp, 
 born of her own bewildered fancy. The one alights on 
 the stage in safety and honour, thence to meet the 
 recompense of her simple virtues, iu the congratulations 
 of her friends and the plaudits of a sympathizing public. 
 The other, we fear, will be vainly expected. No voice of 
 fond greeting can she ever expect to hear, no wreath of 
 fame can fall upon her brow ! If she should escape into 
 a nameless obscurity, unpursued by the hiss of the 
 audience, it is the mildest fate we can reasonably expect 
 for poor Maria Palliser ! 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
173 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE INNER-LIFE AT THE MANOR-HOUSE, 
 
 Now, while Miss Palisser enjoyed the passing hours 
 with perhaps too keen a relish, her satisfaction was not 
 participated by the family at large, seeing that the 
 much-desired return of its youngest member was still 
 obstinately deferred all the time Mr. Frere continued to 
 manifest an increasing inclination to depart on his foreign 
 tour. With respect to this first ground of complaint, 
 they could but grumble and write expostulating letters ; 
 but as to any dangerous demonstrations on the part of 
 their deaf guest, slight would have been the skill of the 
 Divets, and most unworthy of record, had they encoun- 
 tered much difficulty in circumventing him. 
 
 It is true that David had given up business for some 
 years past ; yet enough of his old profession still stuck to 
 that respectable man, to enable him, on urgent occasion, 
 to furnish forth such store of technical terms and long- *' 
 winded ambiguities, as should suffice to mystify Frere 
 whenever he set himself to unravel the legal difficidties 
 which alone (as he imagined) kept him at Etheridge. 
 Had he seen in Divet simply his agent and paid man of 
 business, Manley Frere's natural acuteness would have 
 
THE IX^EE-LIFE AT THE MANOR-HOUSE. 179 
 
 led him to examine and detect many of the fallacies 
 which that gentleman put forth; but as it never occurred 
 to him that his father's old steward could have any 
 ulterior motive for detaining him under his hospitable 
 roofj he trusted him implicitly, and after some vain and 
 not very vigorous efforts to get free, Frere would quietly 
 relapse into the state of apathetic indifference, from 
 which, since the great misfortune of his life, he had been 
 unable to rouse himself " Why be burthened with the 
 dry detail of business, when there was constantly at hand 
 a competent and zealous friend to transact it for 
 him ? " 
 
 " In fact he only wished," as he told Mr. Cranston, 
 " that Divet was not quite so anxious for his interests, and 
 determined to put his affairs in proper order. He could 
 not allude to his intended journey, or throw out the 
 least hint of leaving his present quarters, but that 
 worthy old fellow would persist in coming down upon 
 him with such a load of papers — such an accumulation 
 of the driest matter — and was so ready with explanation 
 and advice scarcely less hard of comprehension, that 
 though," he said, " I put on my wisest look, and ask a 
 question or two for form's sake and to satisfy him, I can- 
 not boast of profiting much by our consultations. I am 
 not conscious that my loss of hearing has entailed any 
 general want of understanding ; on the contrary, I have 
 thought that my opportunities for entire abstraction 
 were rather favourable to the development of a certain 
 portion of my intellect, especially to comprehending 
 whatever requires a close and involved train of calcula- 
 
180 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 tion. But it would seem as if this rule did not hold 
 good in matters admitting of practical applicationj as I 
 certainly find — (and feel a little mortified at the dis- 
 covery) — that, at the end of my conferences with Divet, 
 I am often further than ever from such an insight into 
 the state of my affairs as I should be glad to ob- 
 tain. There is no ascribing the fault to him, whom I 
 know to be a clear-headed and thorough man of busi- 
 ness, and perfectly master of the subject in hand ; and 
 so I get puzzled and weary, and give up the thing in 
 despair, vexed with myself for being so dull, and sadly 
 reflecting on the further misery that may be awaiting 
 me in an increasing dimness of comprehension. How 
 different are my feelings from those of my friend and 
 instructor, who evidently takes the liveliest interest in 
 much that is most irksome to me, and plunges into the 
 minutiae of business with such unction, that I scarcely 
 have the heart to interrupt him ! Is it really, Cranston, 
 worth while, as some people tell you, that you should 
 devote two-thirds of your life to the drudgery of a pro- 
 fession, in order at last to eujoy the satisfaction of 
 turning gentleman and playing the amateur with it, and. 
 60 making child's play of what was once a stringent duty ? 
 I was cogitating this point as Divet bustled into my 
 room yesterday, requesting a few minutes' attention, to 
 the end that certain matters of importance should be 
 finally put in order before my leaving England — ' con- 
 cerning the Yorkshire property especially, and also 
 touching those houses in Pimlico.' This latter sub- 
 ject you must know to be a sort of bugbear to me: 
 
THE mXER-LIFE AT THE MANOR-HOUSE. 1^1 
 
 whenever my cup of legal misery is full to the brim, the 
 drop which causes it to overflow is, invariably some 
 reference to a certain disputed point of law relating to 
 tliose unlucky tenements ' the houses in Pimlico/ Well, 
 my speculations ended in my wondering how long it 
 would take a galley-slave, who had completed his ten or 
 twenty years tugging at the oar, before he should 
 volunteer to row a Thames wherry from Putney Bridge 
 to Twickenham, solely out of a tender remembrance of 
 his bygone labours. Warned by painful experience, I am 
 usually cautious of alluding to my approaching travels ; 
 but this morning, having suffered the word ' passport ' 
 to escape me, I could see at once that I had com- 
 mitted myself. And now I am in instant dread of 
 a visit from my zealous friend, full of apologies I cannot 
 hear, and instructions I cannot understand. I wish he 
 would depute his daughter to commune with me, for Tier 
 meaning it is seldom difficult to catch — or the Coloners 
 betrothed, whose thoughtful eyes it is a pleasure (though 
 a sad one) to look into." 
 
 Mr. Frere is not mistaken ; his host has been struck 
 with that gentleman's mention of foreign parts — " Hang 
 the fellow ! " he says ; " he'll be off like a shot one of 
 these days, if we don't take care to stop him ! " *' That he 
 will, Davy, my boy," is cousin Sally's rejoinder. " He'll 
 give you the go-by, every one of you, before you can say 
 Jack Kobinson." 
 
 So Divet shuffles off for some deed or document, no 
 matter what, so that the dry aspect of law adheres to it, 
 and looking in upon the ladies, in his way to Frere's 
 
182 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 private room, lie holds up the parchments, tied with a 
 formidable proportion of red tape, and whispers with a 
 wink — " I say, girls, do you see these entertaining little 
 articles ? I am just going to enlighten our deaf friend — 
 that's all ! " His daughter replies by a nod of approba- 
 tion, Mrs. Sally calls him scurrilous names, and Miss 
 Palliser blushes indignantly at hearing herself classed 
 among ]\Ir. Di vet's " girls." 
 
 Even independently of their brazen unreserve, Maria 
 could have had no doubt as to the nature of the Di vets' 
 designs upon their deaf guest; every day some fresh 
 matter was arising, which, trifling in itself, indicated signi- 
 ficantly enough the one fixed point towards which their 
 scheming' tended. She observed about this time that they 
 were growing conscious of a want of foresight in assigning 
 Frere a sitting-room or study, entirely apart from the 
 household. It had been so arranged at his arrival at 
 Etheridge, from the natural wish and obvious policy of 
 humouring his taste and inclination in every particular ; 
 but, as interests more personal to themselves rose ujd before 
 their prophetic souls, the family began to perceive the 
 disadvantages likely to result from this alienation of his 
 society. Hitherto it had been a matter of indifterence to 
 them how or where he passed his hours ; but a time was 
 near at hand (so at least they presumed) when such long 
 and frequent separations might prove highly inconvenient, 
 and militate sadly against all their fondest speculations. 
 Mrs. George, indeed, professed to think that little was 
 risked by allowing "Mr. Manley " to have his own way 
 j ust at present ; " in a little while he was likely to find 
 
THE IXXErt-LIFE AT THE MxVNOR-HOUSE. 183 
 
 the party assembled in the drawing-room considerably 
 more attractive than it had been ; and she doubted not," 
 she said, with smiling significance, " that they would 
 then have quite enough of his company." But Divet, 
 who, while he was ready " in general terms " to subscribe 
 to his daughter's superior tact, had a fidgety tempera- 
 ment which often led him to interfere with her arrange- 
 ments, here reminded her that " habits — settled habits, 
 were awkward things — harder to be broken through than 
 you seem to think, Mrs. Kezia; and, if our friend is 
 always to be jogging off after every meal — in short, 
 making a mere inn of my house — a mere lodging — a 
 place of common entertainment " 
 
 " No fear, sir ; no fear" — with another confident sim- 
 per ; ^' depend upon it, we may safely give him to the end 
 of his tether just now — by and by, things will be dif- 
 ferently circumstanced." 
 
 " Ah, well ! you women will have every thing your own 
 way — we all know that ; but remember I have warned 
 you in time — and I wash. my hands of it, that's all ! I 
 wash my hands of it, Mrs. George Barclay ! " and the 
 excitable Divet, rubbing those extremities together with 
 an air of resolute dissatisfaction, walked ofi" to enlist old 
 Jesse on his side of the argument. It was a step unde- 
 niably judicious, the Patriarch's opinion being held in 
 high respect, and much oftener deferred to than his own, 
 in any question of domestic management; and, on the 
 present occasion, the old man sided implicitly with his 
 son ; though, after^ his own wily fashion, his words, half 
 bland, half sarcastic, fell like oil on the fussy style of his 
 
184 THE THREE CHAIS'CES. 
 
 more imtable descendant. " True— just so, my good son, 
 David — you speak of course^ en-t-ir-ely for the benefit — 
 the exclusive benefit, David— of our p-o-o-r af-flict-ed 
 friend ; you conceive it to be lowering to his spirits to 
 live so much estranged from society — cheerful society — 
 ehj my son ? especially that portion of it from whence 
 man derives his sweetest consolation" — in saying which, 
 old Divet looked at Miss Palliser, as if desirous that she 
 should appreciate the jest, and appropriate her share of 
 the compliment — " yes, David, we see and understand the 
 entire scope of your argument — ha, ha ! and we honour 
 you accordingly." 
 
 " Of course— of course, sir — every one knows my 
 meaning." 
 
 " Yes, simple soul that you are, David ! it is easy 
 enough to be fathomed. But the question we have to 
 consider now is, how we are best to persuade our friend 
 to come amongst us, and convince him of the advantages 
 he neglects in shunning a little cheerful circle, from 
 which the ladies are to form, I take it, the most pro- 
 minent portion. Eh, my children ? " 
 
 " Ah, there's the difficulty ! " observed one, peevishly. 
 " Nobody can get him to play chess." 
 
 " Nor draughts either," grumbled another. 
 
 " Deuce take it — no ! " cried Divet ; " and it's all to no 
 purpose that I offer to teach him backgammon, though 
 it can't be the noise of the dice he objects to." 
 
 Mrs. Sarah suggested dominoes as a diversion likely 
 to keep Mr. Frere in their society ; while George Barclay 
 yawned out the name of Blind Hookey, the bare 
 
THE IXXER-LIFE AT THE IMAJN'OR-HOUSE. 185 
 
 mention of which obtained him a severe rating from 
 his wife. 
 
 " I declare yoii are such numbskulls, all of you ! " ex- 
 claimed cousin Sally. " Lord, if I took the thing to heart 
 as you do, I warrant you I'd soon hit upon something that 
 should drive him out of his hermitage. Why don t you 
 smoke him in his hive, as they do the bees ? Make a 
 pretence of lighting a fire in his room — that chimney's 
 sure to smoke when it's first lighted — and, if not, just 
 lay something, ever so little, across the top of it, and 
 you'll soon see if he won't be glad to come down- 
 stairs." 
 
 " Bravo, old lady ! that's no bad thought of yours. 
 I say, Kezia, leave off quarrelling with George, and 
 hear cousin Sally's proposal." 
 
 Mrs. Barclay listened to it approvingly, and added an 
 amendment of her own ; that, as the servants had 
 better not be made privy to the scheme, her husband, 
 while they were at dinner, should mount through the 
 trapdoor in the roof, and place the necessary obstruction 
 over Frere's chimney. 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself about that," said her father 
 significantly. " Druce will see to any little arrangement 
 that requires neatness and despatch." 
 
 This was the man, a union of the valet, secretary, 
 keeper, and spy, with whom Mr. Frere had been pro- 
 vided in place of his faithful old Wilkinson ; and a 
 very good servant he was, and a remarkably intelligent 
 man, and was moreover supposed by some people, though 
 the circumstance was never alluded to at Etheridge, to 
 
186 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 have some remote connection or relationship with the 
 family. All these characteristics considered, Mr. Divet 
 was perfectly justified in placing such relia,nce on this 
 useful person. 
 
 " Druce may rhyme to Goose," he would observe 
 sagaciously ; " but I will vouch for it there is no other 
 connection between the words. So Druce shall have an 
 eye to the chimney-top, and you may safely leave the 
 result of cousin Sally's stratagem to him." 
 
 " Whoever manages the matter, I'll have nothing to 
 do with it," said' George Barclay ; " for it's a dirty opera- 
 tion in more senses than one." 
 
 " Come, none of that, Master Georgey," cried the 
 originator of the scheme. " I only wish you had 
 nothing worse to answer for, than helping to smoke that 
 poor moping young fellow out of his hole." 
 
 " What, cousin Salty," he replied, " are you turning 
 upon me like the rest of them ? I thought I had some- 
 thing like a friend in ijou." 
 
 " Why George, my boy, you know I give it you all 
 round whenever you deserve it." 
 
 " Your powers of reproof cannot remain long idle, 
 then," he replied with his usual sneer. 
 
 Cousin Sally's hasty yet ingenious suggestion, though 
 not eventually acted upon, served nevertheless as the 
 forerunner of a more extended and important manoeuvre. 
 It was one in which Mr, Frere must be the last to sus- 
 pect mischief, as it was solely from himself that the idea 
 had first originated. For once, while civilly praising 
 the apartment which had been allotted him, he had 
 
THE INNER-LIFE AT THE MANOR-HOUSE. 187 
 
 observed " that it only wanted a bay-window to be per- 
 fect — a bay-window looking into the garden: if that 
 necessary aperture, in its present form rather of the 
 smallest, could be converted into something of an 
 
 ■ 
 
 oriel ? " 
 
 Here, then, was a glaring opportunity of administer- 
 ing to the taste and convenience of their deaf guest, at 
 the same time that they dexterously served their own 
 purposes. " The window ivas too small — far too narrow 
 for the dimensions of the room. What if it should be 
 altered immediately to the shape and fashion he had 
 recommended ?" and so eager was Mr. Divet to gratify 
 every elegant whim of this dear friend of the family, 
 that he proposed even going to the expense of plate- 
 glass, if necessary, for the humouring of his particular 
 fancy. 
 
 " Take care ! " murmured old Jesse. " Have a care, my 
 friends, that you do not scare away the bird by disturb- 
 ing its nest too suddenly," — but as Kezia and her father 
 conducted the matter, it was accomplished so discreetly, 
 so many apologies made in the best style of each, such 
 kind and reiterated assurances that, in case !Mr. Frere 
 objected to occupying another sitting-room, no alteration 
 should be entered upon while he remained in the house I 
 At the same time it was persuasively insinuated — " Ms 
 suggestion," this " bright thought of Ai's," would be such 
 a manifest improvement to that range of the building. 
 " Grandpapa, for one, would never be easy till it was 
 carried out," and then it would be " so useful " to have 
 his opinion as the work proceeded ; for they hoped he would 
 
188 THE THREE CHANGES. 
 
 not refuse to look in upon it now and then, to see what 
 the carpenters were doing. A little plan, too — just a 
 little sketch of his own idea in his own hand, if such a 
 request might be made — a thing of that sort would be 
 invaluable ; for Gibbs, though a capital workman, and 
 quite competent to the handicraft part of his business, was 
 no designer — " They, none of them were," Mrs. Barclay 
 observed with a frank smile as she penned the little 
 equivoque, her father applauding her with a subdued 
 chuckle. " The only one amongst them," she added, 
 '' who had any knowledge of drawing, was unluckily out 
 of the way. They were all ignoramuses with regard to 
 taste, all except that little pet lamb of their's, who was 
 straying away from the parent-fold." 
 
 " That's it ! that's the thing exactly ! " murmured 
 Divet, looking over her shoulder as she wrote. " Upon 
 my w^ord, Mrs. George, you are a treasure of a woman, 
 though your husband does not seem to think so ! " 
 
 Thus pressed, Mr. Frere (though much he would have 
 preferred keeping the room he had found so suited to his 
 requirements) could not refuse to turn out. He was 
 secretly annoyed, however, at finding, when the workman 
 had actually commenced operations, and the measure 
 could not be remedied, that he was expected to remove 
 to the common sitting-room ; but being given to under- 
 stand, with explanations almost as unintelligible to him 
 as David's law, that they could not, ''just then," assign 
 him another apartment entirely to himself, he could not 
 make any strenuous objection to the arrangement. At 
 first he meditated retiring much into his sleeping cham- 
 
THE INNER-LIFE AT THE MANOR-HOUSE. 18D 
 
 ber — ^liad even serious thoughts of leaving Etheridge al- 
 together ; but when he saw how considerately they had 
 arranged what was to be held sacred as his portion of 
 the parlour, giving him up the pleasantest window, round 
 which they had drawn a large folding-screen to hide 
 him from vulgar eyes when he chose to be solitary, fur- 
 nishing the enclosure with tables, ranged on which he 
 found, on returning from his ride the next day, his books 
 and papers laid ready to his hand — in short, every thing 
 remembered that might be imagined indispensable to his 
 comfort. When he saw these preparations for his special 
 benefit accompanied with such marks of genuine good- 
 humour, and such open satisfaction expressed at having 
 brought him amongst them — so far from allowing him- 
 self to betray any vexation, he was only oppressed with 
 this fresh instance of good-will on the part of his friendly 
 entertainers. 
 
 Excellent Divets ! For some time past Frere had 
 been meditating what handsome presents he should make 
 them in return for the comfort and convenience their 
 house and attentions afforded him. What ornaments 
 Mrs. Barclay would prefer — what piece of plate would 
 be most acceptable to Divet. He now perceived hovvr 
 inadequate must be any such token of his respect and grati- 
 tude towards evincing what he really felt — he must ever 
 remain their debtor. And as to the question of remov- 
 ing, it would (as he argued in his deep humility) be 
 hardly more brutal than impolitic to repel their disinte- 
 rested affection ; for " where else/' he thought, " may I 
 look for any thing like it ? so warm, so natural and un- 
 
190 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 forced ! By a few old friends who knew me formerly I 
 may still be tolerated ; and tlie new people with whom I 
 shall have to mix in my progress through life — with 
 them my position will command a decent indulgence. 
 But what is this to the freely-flowing, unbought love of 
 these good old friends of my father's I " 
 
THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGINE. 101 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGINE. 
 
 And now it is the first morning on wliich j\Ir. Frere, 
 expelled from his beloved solitude, has breakfasted with 
 the family ; and, having finished that meal himself, he 
 loiters at the table reading the newspaper, while the 
 others still keep eating, chatting, laughing, or sparring 
 with each other as is their wont ; though he, unconscious 
 of what goes forward, regards them as a sample of pure 
 domestic comfort — the very moral of an honest open- 
 hearted household, in peace with each other, and in 
 charity with all the world ! 
 
 The door is open, and above the hum of voices, even 
 the sonorous one of cousin Sally, Miss Palliser distin- 
 guishes a step which never fails to act upon her nerves. 
 There are sounds apparently common and innocent, 
 which bring with them to certain hearers a creeping- 
 sensation over the surface of the skin, rising gradually 
 till it seems to exhaust itself amongst the roots of the 
 hair. The sight of a mouse or a spider will cause it 
 with some people, or the vicinity of an innocent cat ; 
 but the approa<)h of the person one detests particularly^ 
 
192 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 will act equally well as the exciter of " goose-flesh ;" and 
 it was on this principle that the descendant of " the poor 
 Pelhams" recognized, without a doubt, the measured 
 tread and stamp of the Patriarch's staff advancing 
 along the hall. That his seeking his family at that early 
 hour is something unusual, may be gathered from the 
 address of cousin Sally ; for, as his shadow darkens the 
 doorway, she salutes him with, ^^ Hollo, old boy, what 
 mischief are you after, that you are up so early in the 
 morning ? " In his low hissing voice, that seems in ils 
 most ordinary tones to imply something of a double 
 meaning, he says he has a little communication to make 
 — " that is all ; " and, as he stations himself behind Mr. 
 Frere's chair (that gentleman being wholly unaware of 
 his approach), the old man holds up a letter, and looks 
 from under his shaggy brows at the assembled family in 
 general, but especially at his eldest granddaughter ; for 
 the two acknowledge kindred souls, and the grandsire's 
 shrewdness (as the hereditary gout will often do) has 
 leaped a generation, and descended in all its quickness 
 and fertility of cunning on the second in succession. 
 Accordingly, before the rest have caught the sense of the 
 pantomime, she exclaims delightedly, " From Phebe .^ 
 I do believe it's from the child, and we may have her 
 here perhaps to-day ! Is it really to-day ? Oh, you 
 clever grandpapa ; this is your doing, and done just in 
 your own arch, eccentric way ! '^ 
 
 The Divets were proud of each other. There might 
 be a little squabbling amongst them at times ; but it is 
 observable, on the whole, how high a respect the family 
 
THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGINE. 193 
 
 talent excites, as it is evinced by the members in their 
 several ways. 
 
 Old Jesse's sly nod affirms that " all's right." " Yes," 
 he replied, " while you young people are considering, 
 and consulting, and all to no end, the old toothless fel- 
 low of ninety takes the matter in hand, and clinches it 
 in a trice. My little Phebe is a sensible girl, and quite 
 amenable to reason. Besides, my dears, my arguments 
 in this particular case were too sound — much too sound 
 to be refuted, eh ? — ha, ha ! " and he laughed and looked 
 down as he said this on the placid form of Manley Frere ; 
 and again Miss Palliser felt as though water of the 
 coldest were trickling over her. 
 
 " Get out with you, you old fox ! " cousin Sally exclaims. 
 " Never trust me, if I don't give him a hint of what you 
 are all after, and put him on his guard. I say, Mis-ter 
 Man-ley ! " raising her voice to its boatswain's pitch. 
 
 " jSTow, do take care, cousin Sally ! " " Now, don't be 
 ridiculous ! " was the general cry ; for, though looked 
 upon as an ally, the old lady's nature was known to be 
 occasionally dangerously impulsive. " What the devil 
 do you mean, Mrs. Sarah Barclay 1 " cried David, getting 
 very red, and speaking in suppressed thunder. 
 
 " None of your airs. Master Davy, I'll see you hanged 
 before I let that poor, dear, deaf thing be made such a 
 cat's-paw by the whole gang of ye ! I-say, Mis-ter 
 Man-ley, any-news-in-the-pa-per ? Are-they-go-ing-to- 
 take-off-the-window-tax ? (He doesn't hear a syllable.) 
 Any-body-else-been-popping-at-Louis-Philippe ? (Ha, 
 ha, how I frightened you all !) What a set of geese you 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
194 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 were to suppose I was going to blab. Why, the poor 
 young man is sure to be made a fool of by some girl or 
 other, and why not Phebe as well as any one else ?" 
 
 " Hush ! recollect the door is open." 
 
 " Ha ! that's your affair, not mine. But, Lord ! to 
 think how hard of hearing he must be. It's my opinion 
 he grows worse and worse." 
 
 '^ So much the better for the future Mrs. Frere," in- 
 sinuated the Patriarch in his mildest manner, and still 
 keeping his place behind the deaf guest, over whom his 
 aged figure bent like something of evil overshadowing 
 a doomed man. 
 
 It was a scene altogether which caused Maria to bite 
 her lip, and draw up her fine person with silent but deep 
 disgust. And yet all her high-toned reserve was not 
 proof against her female curiosity ; and, on this announce- 
 ment of Miss Divet's near approach, she was seized with 
 a strong inclination to learn how far that young lady's 
 qualifications were such as to justify the sanguine hopes 
 of her family. Hitherto she had treated the subject 
 with proud indifference ; but this morning she seized the 
 first occasion of being alone with Mrs. Sarah, to question 
 her as to the merits and pretensions of the '• pet lamb." 
 
 '^ Pretty ? " said the old lady, repeating the query she 
 put to her. " What, Phebe Divet ? Lord help you, my 
 dear, what put that into your head ? As ordinary a girl 
 as you'd desire to see, though she's a deuced deal better- 
 looking than she was a few years ago. I do think that 
 when Phebe was a little trot of five or six years old she 
 was one of the ugliest chiklren I ever came across. 
 
THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGINE. 195 
 
 But," added cousin Sally, arresting a wondering excla- 
 mation of Maria's — " she takes with the fellows for all 
 that. Why, there was young What's-his-name there, 
 tliat was articled to her uncle at Coventry, he never 
 was his own man again, they say, after Phebe went 
 staying there ; and little Jefferson, the apothecary's boy 
 — Lord, Miss Maria, you needn't open your eyes so wide 
 at me, I'm talking of the assistant, as they call the 
 young fellow — you don't suppose I meant the chap that 
 curries out the basket with the blisters and boluses ! 
 No, no, Miss P., we are a cut above that, we Divets ; and 
 Davy's daughter looks a little higher than a doctor's 
 boy, at any rate." 
 
 " Well, ma'm, if you will say one thing when you 
 mean another " 
 
 " None of your sauciness, Mrs. Hussey that-is-to-be, or 
 I'll write off to your sodger-officer, and see if he won't 
 take up the cudgels for cousin Sally, and give you a 
 pretty sisserara for being impudent to her. Lord help 
 that poor deaf soul !" looking at Frere, " he is smiling 
 at us, as if he could hear every word we are saying. 
 Ah, poor fellow ! " 
 
 The unrefined yet genuine good-nature which shone 
 forth in cousin Sally's behaviour towards Manley Frere, 
 were positively endearing her to Miss Palliser, who would 
 hardly now have credited the genteel horror which had 
 seized her originally at the coarse aspect and manners of 
 that untutored old lady. Maria sometimes smiled to 
 reflect that, from amongst the whole of the highly respect- 
 able and universally esteemed family at Etheridge House, 
 
196 THE THREE CHAKCES. 
 
 the only two members of it with whom she ever assimi- 
 lated were the most vulgar of the women, and the most 
 dissolute of the men. " What would the Colonel say to 
 this strange predilection of his fastidious Maria ? and 
 Mr. Frere — what would lie think of it ?" — Gentle, yet 
 melancholy, was the smile which was wont to light up 
 Miss Palliser's face whenever she mentally repeated the 
 name of her deaf friend. Yet, if she deceived herself with 
 regard to her own feelings, there was no delusion as to 
 the nature of his. Even that morning, when, for the 
 first time during their acquaintance, Frere asked her to 
 walk with him, she, though only too willing to consent, 
 was in no wise flattered by his request ; she knew he 
 preferred it only as a convenience, and not because of 
 any particular pleasure her companionship afforded him. 
 Could he have appropriated the services of Kezia instead, 
 she would not have been solicited ; but Mrs. George must 
 be at home to receive her sister, and Maria was chosen 
 simply as her substitute : Maria was thus far wise in her 
 estimate of their relative positions. 
 
 A very destructive fire had broken out the night 
 before in one of the adjacent villages ; and Frere, 
 anxious to do something for the relief of the sufferers, 
 and yet aware how greatly his peculiar infirmity must 
 interfere with his personal exertions, sought merely an 
 intelligent companion, possessing a full complement of 
 the sense in which he was deficient, who might make a 
 few inquiries, and direct him as to the fittest objects for 
 his bounty. ]\Iost certain is it, that had Manley Frere 
 suspected the exquisite pleasure his request (simple as it 
 
THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGINE. 
 
 was) had coaferred, he, who was the very soul of honour, 
 and who had suffered so severely from the fickleness of 
 woman, would never have whispered a solicitation of the 
 sort to Colonel Hussey's Jiancee. And so the two guests 
 of Etheridge House walked out together ; and the en- 
 thusiastic regard which Maria Palliser was entertaining 
 towards her companion, seemed that day exalted higher 
 still, by the sweet influences of scenery more picturesque 
 than they had yet enjoyed in each other's company. As 
 a fair breeze blew around her, and the fresh grass bent 
 beneath her feet, a soft and deep emotion, the experience 
 of which she had long taken a melancholy pride in dis- 
 avowing, quickened her heart's pulsation; and tears, such 
 as she had scarcely believed herself capable of shedding, 
 so unwontedly humanizing was the gentle moisture, stole 
 unbidden to her eyes, and filled her with surprise — 
 almost with gratitude. 
 
 And still the startling truth lay hidden from her per- 
 ception ; still it was Frere, rather than herself, round 
 whom her thoughts revolved, and whose position seemed 
 to justify whatever was unusual in her own state of 
 mind. She even reasoned regarding this peculiar 
 element of interest pervading the whole of her inter- 
 course with him, and adduced it to Miss Ainsworth, as 
 the impulse of that strong leaning she acknowledged 
 towards the society of one, whose infirmities (though 
 that was a word she never employed in relation to him) 
 precluded much of the freedom of communication. 
 
 " I feel how great is the advantage to my own 
 character to be with Mr. Frere," she said, " for then I 
 
198 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 scarcely think of myself. The loss or absorption of our 
 individuality must often constitute the chief blessing of 
 our intercourse with others. I at least am conscious of 
 having pursued the study of myself too long and 
 engrossingly; and, if it were possible so to change my 
 nature, I would gladly shun the examination with all 
 its dangerous results from henceforth — ay, for ever- 
 more ! for it has brought me nothing but sorrow, and 
 may lead on to despair. Now, whenever Mr. Frere is 
 present, especially when we are alone, and those dreadful 
 Divets do not come between us, casting their shadow 
 upon — no ! not upon him — never can he suffer from 
 such as they, but over my earthly composition and 
 unsettled soul, at these happier intervals my mind is all 
 at work fancying what impression outward circumstances 
 are making on his remaining senses. The poets of old 
 were thought by their reverential admirers to have a 
 faculty verging on the prophetic in their deep musings : 
 a sacred character adhered to them, a divinity was 
 supposed to inspire those utterances which so tran- 
 scended the common understanding. You will wonder, 
 Lucy, what this has to do with Man ley Frere and his 
 deafness, but it has, and fully explains my feelings 
 towards him. I know he cannot be viewing persons and 
 things exactly as other people do, or as they appear 4o 
 me, and then I get so busy thinking how this must 
 strike, or that thing affect him, that my own identity 
 is (as it were) lost in his — and the selfish principle, that 
 ever-recurring, soul-corroding 'self,' gives place for a 
 while to a purely generous and disinterested sentiment. 
 
THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGINE. 199 
 
 Surely if by such means I can be made, for ever so short 
 a time, to lose sight of that erring, desponding creature, 
 Maria Palliser, it is enough to make me bless the fate 
 which brought me to Etheridge." 
 
 Possessed with feelings so new, and so utterly strange 
 to her that she literally knew not by what name they 
 should be called, Maria wandered on by the side of her 
 too interesting friend, knowing and caring not whither he 
 led her; seeing only that that earth she had hitherto 
 thought so bleak and barren, was indeed most warm and 
 beautiful, and beginning to suspect that men did not 
 wholly err, when they declared that there was something 
 in it worth living for — at least while youth and summer 
 weather lasted. 
 
 Within the sphere of this predominating influence, 
 Miss Palliser was sensible to a kindlier impulse, and a 
 union with her species which had till then been unknown 
 to her. Not hard of heart herself, but too desponding 
 in her views to credit the good that might be found in 
 the hearts of others, she gave alms from an abstract 
 principle of duty. She was uneasy as long as the trifle 
 she had to bestow was withheld from those who needed 
 it ; but, when once that mite was given, it became her 
 earnest endeavour to dismiss the subject altogether from 
 her thoughts, till the return of the stated quarter-day 
 replenished her slender purse, and bound her to pay her 
 accustomed debt to humanity. None of the common 
 incitements of sympathy or sentiment — of curiosity, 
 ostentation, or that love of meddling in the afl'airs of 
 others which confers on many the character of good 
 
200 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 Christians — led her between whiles into the cottages of 
 the poor ; unless she could bring a gift with her, she 
 held them all as too abjectly roiserable to be gratified 
 with her visits, and iato their hovels she carried the same 
 stern mistrust which clouded her perception of all places 
 and their human inhabitants. Under no aspect had an 
 acquaintanceship with poverty been good for her ; for, if 
 its characteristics were low and vicious, she reflected in 
 bitter contempt — not so much on the sinners themselves, 
 as on the mortal nature of which they were the common 
 type : that pitiful thing which fell so easily beneath the 
 weight of adversity and the strife of existence. If it 
 assumed the form of virtue suffering apparently un- 
 merited hardship, her thoughts grew darker still. Then 
 would she question the end and purpose of creation 
 itself; and, if not actually denying the existence of a 
 Creator, would rebel in spirit against the Power which 
 permitted such e^dl to sadden and deface the earth His 
 will had formed. Such had ever been the course of 
 Maria's benevolence : a charity, or rather a giving of 
 alms, to be followed — as dark night falls upon a gloomy 
 day — by stony scepticism and murmuring misanthropy. 
 During this visit to the ruined village no such tempta- 
 tion to bad thoughts assailed her ; her sensibilities flowed 
 freely and unalloyed, and she might have been cited 
 amongst the most active and gently sympathizing of 
 those who came to pity and relieve. Even to herself 
 the change was apparent, and she rejoiced in the belief 
 that it sprang solely from the influence of the one human 
 being she delighted to honour. " Had he not been 
 
THE SHRIEK OF THE ENGI>'E. 201 
 
 here/' she said within herself, "I should have been 
 cavilliog at every thing — at the houseless wretches them- 
 selves — at the motives of the bystanders — and (more 
 than all) at my own hard, suspicious nature ; but in 
 his presence, and under the power of his looks and 
 voice, I can believe in human perfectibility, and for once 
 be trusting and hopeful ! " 
 
 Then, as having finished for that day their errand of 
 mercy, they retraced their steps homewards, Miss Palliser 
 followed out yet more at length her dangerous mode of 
 reasoning. " Ah ! " she thought, '• if I could have him 
 always near me, every miserable doubt might be van- 
 quished in time — all that bewilders me most would be 
 made plain and intelligible by his teaching ; for if his 
 arguments failed to convince me, the sight of his pure 
 life and bright example would surely strengthen my 
 wandering soul : living with him, a time might come 
 when I should lay this poor bewildered head upon its 
 pillow, at peace with heaven and all mankind, and once 
 more fall asleep in the undoubting faith and innocent 
 confidence of childhood." 
 
 It was not long after Maria had arrived at a conclu- 
 sion so flattering to her deaf companion, that there came 
 a sound wliich might have been likened to the cry of a 
 soul in torment, or the exultant halloo of the fiend who 
 inflicted the torture ; but it was only the whistle of the 
 railway, as the train within sight of them shot forward to 
 the Etheridge station. Never before had its harsh dis- 
 sonance fallen on the ear of Miss Palliser without jarring 
 that sensitive organ of hers, and probably it had never 
 
202 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 resounded through a scene of rural tranquillity more 
 thoroughly at variance with all the new and earth-born 
 associations which chng to its brutal clamour : but now 
 her spirit was not to be sullied by even a reasonable 
 peevishness, the contrast must strike, yet it failed to 
 annoy her, she only looked at Frere and whispered to 
 herself — " If it were the shriek of the mandrake, Ms 
 reason would be safe ; " and so Maria finished her walk 
 in peace and great contentment, and reaching Etheridge, 
 made the discovery ere long that that harsh discord- 
 that flourish of fiendish glee — that mandrake's scream — 
 had heralded, amongst other arrivals, the near approach 
 of Miss Phebe Divet. 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 203 
 
 CHAPTER Xy. 
 
 THE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 
 
 A JOYOUS group was assembled in the drawing-room 
 when the silent couple re-entered the Manor House. 
 
 During their walk, Maria had forgotten the very ex- 
 istence of the young traveller ; the distant sound of 
 laughter as she crossed the hall, and a certain air of 
 alacrity which seemed to pervade the household, might 
 have reminded her of what had been expected to occur 
 during her absence ; still she moved on carelessly, walk- 
 ing as one that enjoyed a pleasant dream, till awakened 
 by the voice of Betty, the housemaid, who met her on the 
 stairs, and accosted her with a smiling countenance — 
 " Please, Miss Palliser, ]\Iiss Phebe's come ! " 
 
 Some curiosity must needs be felt concerning an indi- 
 vidual whose presence was so warmly desired, and for so 
 special a purpose ; but Maria delicately forbore intruding 
 upon the circle below, till the first flow of family confi- 
 dences, and the interchange of ideas and anecdotes, 
 strictly Divetical, should have subsided : what length of 
 time was adequate for this, was only to be guessed at — 
 Miss Palliser's actual experience having supplied her 
 with a very confused apprehension of the subject. 
 
204 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 Upon any return to the dull place she had called her 
 " home," after occasional absences from it, she had 
 entered it with the chilled feelings of one who knows 
 herself to be cared for only as an inevitable encumbrance ; 
 and she had gone to her accustomed place, and resumed 
 her monotonous duties, without an idea of being able to 
 give or receive pleasure by her reappearance amongst 
 the house-dwellers. She knew, of course, that different 
 ways prevailed in the homes of most other young people ; 
 but, with her own affections systematically discouraged 
 and repelled, the subject of family love allured her but 
 little, and, if unable to throw a doubt over the reality of 
 the sentiment when it was presented to her notice, she 
 seldom failed to scoff at any manifestation of it. The 
 abilities of her uncle, the hoary atheist and republican, 
 who sneered at all things holy or orderly, caused him, 
 though she loved him not, to be the object of Maria's 
 respect ; she had therefore insensibly acquired much of 
 his tone of thought, and even expression, and every 
 year that passed over her young heart, left it more hard 
 and exclusiv^e in its feelings. She loved to boast of her 
 self-reliance, and independence of all human sympathy ; 
 till the monstrous delusion, advanced with hardihood 
 and defended not without considerable ingenuity, be- 
 came to her as one of her gods. This day, for the first 
 time, ^laria seemed to discover the clay feet of the idol 
 she had set up, and doubted if it would stand alone. 
 As she loitered in her lonely chamber, she who had so 
 contemptuously repudiated the claims of relationship, 
 now found herself nuising on the charm which must 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LAMB, 205 
 
 needs exist in family affection, to diffuse sucli natural 
 joy throughout an entire household. 
 
 The inward complacency which prompted these reflec- 
 tions of Maria s, did not fail her even when she descended 
 to join the family. Indeed she found herself smilino- 
 irrepressibly when the new arrival was introduced to her 
 —that ceremony being performed with the triumphant 
 looks which might naturally and justifiably have 
 attended the presentation of some professed beauty. 
 
 Much did she marvel how their native presumption 
 could so have misled the Divets as to allow them even 
 in joke, or in the strictest privacy, to couple the name of 
 Phebe Divet with that of Manley Frere. "What a 
 thorough misapprehension of the character, style, taste, 
 and all that constitutes our idea of a high-bred gentleman, 
 must they have fallen into, before they could have 
 ventured to speculate on this ordinary little girl acquir- 
 ing any influence over him ! " Maria beheld in her a 
 mere fac-simile of her elder sister, with only the attri- 
 bute of youth to soften Kezia's harsher peculiarities. 
 There were again the shrewd black eyes, somewhat high 
 cheek-bones, and rather pointed chin, with much the 
 same neat upright figure, the light firm step, and the 
 head well-carried and thrown slightly back, with an air 
 which, though perhaps not ungraceful, seemed to say, 
 '' Behold me at your service ; ever ready, and up to any 
 thing which my country, friends, family— my loving' 
 kindred, or my own private interests — may require of 
 me ! " Eeally, comparing both ladies, Maria was not 
 sure but she preferred the older edition of the Divetical 
 
206 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 peculiarities, with its stronger type and tarnished bind- 
 ing. Not tliat the little figure of Miss Divet wanted 
 character ; Miss Palliser could see at a glance that it 
 displayed the family conceit to perfection. 
 
 The little girl had been staying with an old school- 
 fellow, well married and settled in an aristocratic 
 county ; she had consequently been mixing in society 
 many grades higher than that of Etheridge and its 
 vicinity. And now, the customary civilities having been 
 paid on the entrance of the Colonel's intended, and 
 '' Cousin Ben " duly referred to and asked after, Phebe 
 
 resumed the relation of her adventures in shire, 
 
 chatting away as fest and as freely as before the appear- 
 ance of Miss Palliser. Perhaps there may on that very 
 account be a little extra boasting about the wonderful 
 success she had met with — '' quite unexampled, I assure 
 you, good people ! " — amongst the distinguished society of 
 
 X . Her father rubbing his hands meanwhile, and 
 
 calling out, "Well done, ]\Iiss Divet ! Mighty fine! mighty 
 fine, ma'm ! I am really afraid that Etheridge and 
 your poor townsfolk will seem sad nonentities after these 
 grand acquaintances of yours ! " His eldest daughter 
 chimed in with a quiet but not less evident exultation ; 
 and the Patriarch, bending forward in his chair, with his 
 deep-set eyes fixed on his pet grandchild, murmured, 
 " Vanity, vanity ! all is vanity ! " but the warning was 
 belied by the crafty smile that accompanied it. 
 
 It might be that there was nothing very reprehensible 
 in all this ; it was but natural that a young person born 
 in one country town, and bred in another, should be 
 
THE DIVETS PET LAMB. 207 
 
 flattered bv tlie flivourable notice of those who lived in 
 a higher position than she was accustomed to ; and, if 
 her friends participated in her satisfaction a little too 
 boastingly, why this also, on the score of family partia- 
 lity, must be held excusable. ]\Iaria, in her present 
 temper, could perhaps have forgiven much that militated 
 against her finer tastes, but for the tone which predo- 
 minated over the family discourse. She had often 
 noticed the mocking vein into which the Divets gene- 
 rally fell as they conversed together ; even though in the 
 highest state of good- hum our, their jests were gibes, and 
 their jokes were jeers. And this youngest of the name, 
 who looked as if she had not long left school, possessed 
 the same low faculty in no slight proportion. Though 
 her anecdotes were often amusing, and related with a 
 certain smartness wliich, in higher circles than the 
 Divets, might pass for wit, they invariably told to the 
 disadvantage of the people whose attentions she was so 
 eager to proclaim. The friends with whom she had 
 been staying so long, fared no better in these reminis- 
 cences than her commonest acquaintance ; they were 
 ridiculed in the same sinister spirit, and though many 
 of her stories, shewing up their faults or follies, described 
 unintentionally some proof of their constant attention 
 and kind regard for her, no feeling of remorse caused 
 Phebe's tongue to falter, or her auditors to cry " Hold ! 
 enough!" And while she depreciated all the world 
 besides, the open and unblushing way in which this 
 3'oung person glorified herself, and repeated the compli- 
 ments that had been paid her, struck the severe and 
 
208 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 ever self-accusing Maria as sometliing monstrous and 
 out of all belief Describing a county ball to which 
 she had been taken, she reckoned up the partners, some 
 of them men of title, who had swelled her list, applying 
 some opprobrious nickname to each as she named him ; 
 and boasting that, though the town-hall that night 
 had been full of handsome women — two celebrated 
 beauties amongst the number — "yet all the men were 
 vowing they would rather dance with little Phebe Divet, 
 than with the prettiest girl in the room." 
 
 " You should have brought a certificate of that, 
 properly attested," said Geoi'ge Barclay : he and his 
 sister-in-law detested each other. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she retorted quickly, and without abating 
 her sarcastic good-humour. ''No, that would have been 
 much too professional. I flatter myself that, amongst 
 
 the nobility and gentry of my acquaintance at X , 
 
 I carefully avoided the remotest allusion which might 
 have reminded them of the red tape in my father's 
 office." 
 
 " There, I told you how it would be ! " said Divet in 
 great glee ; " the hussy is ashamed of her old father 
 already ! " Rubbing his hands more briskly than before 
 (it was a favourite gesture with David), he dropped his 
 voice, and looking round him with mock seriousness, 
 demanded the opinion of all present. " Now, do you 
 think — I ask for your unbiassed opinions — do you 
 suppose I have any chance of being civilly received at 
 a certain mansion — a mansion situated somewhere in 
 Yorkshire — eh ? What do you think of it, my good" 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 209 
 
 friends ? " looking from one to the other. " It strikes me, 
 by Jove ! that I must not shew my nose there uninvited, 
 or I may have a tall gentleman in the family livery 
 kicking me out of doors for a pettifogging attorney." 
 
 The jest was highly relished, and David's choking 
 laugh was echoed, though a little sotto voce, by the 
 majority of the company, the Patriarch included, who 
 muttered some allusion to Began and Goneril, and then 
 gave utterance to one of those scraps of sneering morality 
 which, to Miss Palliser's thinking, was worse even than 
 his open approbation of the baseness of his descendants. 
 " Take care — take care, my children ! " he chanted out. 
 " Pride comes before a fall ; and, w^ith all her lords and 
 
 members of parliament in shire, our good little girl 
 
 may never be solicited to go farther north." 
 
 Here cousin Sally broke in : " You never said a truer 
 word than that, Jesse Divet. Miss Phebe hasn't nabbed 
 that poor deaf fellow yet, for all the airs she gives her- 
 self about her lords and commoners. Phoo ! my con- 
 tempt upon such trumpery ! Why, except one or two 
 she has mentioned, our good friend here could buy up 
 the whole gang of them, and be never the worse for it. 
 So none of that. Miss Phebe Divet, if you please, marm ! 
 and don't set your lard a-frying before you catch your 
 fish." 
 
 Their allusions seemed to recall some matter of special 
 interest to Miss Divet's memory ; for, interrupting the 
 last energetic speaker, she suddenly exclaimed, " By the 
 by— I knew 1 had something to tell you! "Who do 
 you suppose I travelled twenty miles with ? " and with 
 
 VOL. I. P 
 
210 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 a rapid glance, and a sort of triumph in her smile, she 
 looked round her, urging her audience to guess. 
 
 ^' Not Sharpe ? It wasn't Dickey Sharpe ? " her 
 father inquisitively asked, naming a brother lawyer from 
 the neighbourhood where she had been staying. '' Not 
 my friend old Dick — eh, Phebe ? " 
 
 " No — nor your friend Old Nick either, who I would 
 take in preference for a travelling companion any day 
 in the year ! " 
 
 At this, the widow, who happened to be present, 
 raising her eyes with pious softness, said she beheved 
 she knew who it might '^ be ; " for, said she, " I heard 
 yesterday from Mrs. Mudge, that the Kev. Mr. Butter- 
 field was to leave Hampshire this week, and many of 
 his congregation expected him to-day." 
 
 " Butterfly be hanged ! " vociferated cousin Sally. 
 " Do you suppose that the girl would trouble herself, or 
 us either, about a stick of a Methodist parson ? Much 
 more likely to be Jem Murrell — he's for ever on that 
 road, and, to my knowledge, Miss Phebe has always had 
 a sneaking kindness for Jem." 
 
 "It's much you know about it, you meddling old 
 woman," was the ready rejoinder. " Priscilla's is quite 
 as good a guess as yours, every bit of it. But I must 
 say you are a dull set of folks not to find out the riddle 
 without my telling you the answer — considering what 
 we were just talking of" 
 
 " Why, you don't mean ?" exclaimed ^Irs. George, 
 
 with a sudden lighting up of her expressive features. 
 
 " Ah — Kezia has it ! " cried her sister, answ^ering in 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 211 
 
 the same eager tone. " I do mean that when we stopped 
 
 at , the passengers who got in with me were two 
 
 ladies, and one of those was — Barbara Allen ! I beg 
 her pardon, I am sure, a thousand times — Miss Barbara 
 Girdlestone, of Fleetlands Park, in the county of 
 Somerset ; whom I beg to present to the notice and con- 
 sideration of the kind company here present." 
 
 " Barbara Girdlestone ! " The name was bandied from 
 mouth to mouth in all the various tones of wonder and 
 curiosity. Even Miss Palliser laid aside the cold indif- 
 ference it pleased her to assume whenever the Divets 
 were conversing about their own particular concerns — 
 even she looked up at a name so fraught with interest to 
 her, and held her breath, that she might not lose a single 
 word that was to follow. Then, joining the rest in their 
 eager questioning, she, too, could not forbear asking, 
 " What was Miss Girdlestone like ? was she really as 
 handsome as was reported ? " 
 
 " Quite V replied Phebe, with decision, as if the inquiry 
 admitted not of a moment's hesitation. " Quite ! I never 
 saw so beautiful a creature in all my life. I had known 
 her as a little girl, for she used to come to learn dancing 
 
 at the school in , where I was brought up, and then 
 
 she was called pretty ; but I never thought she would 
 have grown into such a very — very — very — Oh, granny ! " 
 turning caressingly to the old man, " if I were but such 
 a beauty as that, wouldn't I set the world in a blaze — 
 wouldn't I, my dear old granny ? " 
 
 " Be content — be content I " he answered, stroking her 
 fondly on the head. " You have brains — brains, my pet, 
 
212 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 which are worth all the roses and lilies in Miss Girdle- 
 Btone's smooth cheek. Though they are pretty things 
 in their way, those outward adornments — very pretty 
 trappings ! '' 
 
 *^ Well, and did you make yourself known to her ? " 
 asked cousin Sally, impatient of this interruption. 
 " Come, Phebe, do get on wdth your story. The hussy 
 didn't say any thing about her poor old sweetheart, I 
 suppose .^ " 
 
 *^ Then you suppose wrong, Mrs. Sarah Barclay. 
 Upon my word, I am afraid this family of mine has de- 
 teriorated sadly in intellect since I left them to vegetate 
 by themselves ! " 
 
 " Well, never mind that now," said Kezia hastily. 
 " Let us know what she said about Frere." 
 
 "I don't tell you that she actually introduced his 
 name ; but, as soon as I began the subject, she was glad 
 enough to pursue it. In fact, I doubt if she would have 
 stood on any ceremony, if she had known at first as much 
 as she did afterwards. But would you believe it ? her 
 aunt and the rest of them have kept her so completely in 
 the dark about him and his proceedings, that she had 
 not an idea where he was. She fancied him abroad — 
 only think how they must have gulled her, to make her 
 believe such fibs ! " 
 
 " But you did not undeceive her, of course ? " said 
 Mrs. George, in an accent of grave inquiry. '^ You did 
 not tell her that he was here ? " and David, ceasing his 
 exultant manipulations, thrust his hands deep into his 
 pockets, w^here they kept on a gentle jingling with keys 
 
THE DI vets' pet LA3IB. 213 
 
 and halfpence, while he cast a dubious eje upon his 
 eldest daughter, who seemed to view the thoughtless 
 conduct of their " pet lamb " with equal dissatisfaction. 
 " Surely, considering all things," Kezia continued re- 
 provingly, " it was not advisable to tell her the secret 
 which very likely her friends had good reasons for keep- 
 ing from her." 
 
 " Well, perhaps not," said Phebe reluctantly, and 
 hanging her head a little. " But you see I was in a hu- 
 mour just then to consider only my own private pleasure, 
 and that " — and Miss Divet's cheeks flushed, and her eyes 
 sparkled, as she spoke — " that was gratified to the very 
 utmost. Oh ! it was so nice to think that, beauty and 
 heiress as she was, I — poor little 7— had a sort of a kind of 
 a power over her, that, just as it took my fancy, I could 
 turn her white or red, and make her wince," and Phebe 
 hissed out the word just in the tone of her grandfather. 
 "It might not be altogether prudent, I allow; but I 
 did so want to know how she would take the mention of 
 his name. You know, speaking learnedly — for I assure 
 
 you some of us at X were very scientific — it was quite 
 
 a psychological study." 
 
 The Patriarch chuckling sarcastically over Phebe's 
 mistake — for all present perceived it to have been one — 
 kept gently repeating, " Woman-like ! a true woman ! 
 Female curiosity, attended by the usual measure of fe- 
 male malice." 
 
 " Don't slander us, sir ! " cried Miss Palliser haughtily. 
 '^ There's no reason to suppose that your grand-daughter 
 personifies her sex." 
 
214 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 The old gentleman merely answered her by a cour- 
 teous inclination of his venerable head, and a smile, dis- 
 playing a provoking union of the benevolent and the 
 satirical. This gentlemanly forbearance was his usual 
 way of treating any thing approaching to petulance in 
 the young and fair, and it always irritated Maria par- 
 ticularly. Once or twice before she had attempted, by 
 contradicting him on moral grounds, to annoy the head 
 of the Divets, and so effect a small revengce for the wron^rs 
 of the " poor Pelhams," and had always found herself 
 foiled in like manner, with the unpleasant conviction that 
 to any stranger present — perhaps to any one in the town 
 except George Barclay — her conduct must have seemed 
 that of an ill-conditioned young woman, who was seeking 
 with gratuitous impertinence to insult the kindest- 
 hearted and best-tempered old man in the whole world ! 
 
 Then Phebe, recovering from her temporary abash- 
 ment, went on with extreme volubility to describe how 
 she achieved what, to a less saucy and determined per- 
 son, must have appeared the awkward task of introdu- 
 cing the mention of Mr. Frere to the woman who had 
 made herself notorious for jilting him. The little 
 Divet, indeed, denied that there lay any difficulty in the 
 matter. "7 had nothing to be ashamed of, whatever 
 might be the case with her. So, first, after we had re- 
 cognized each other, we talked very prettily together, as 
 young ladies should talk, about old school-times, and the 
 old French dancing-master, and all that sort of innocent 
 twaddle ; and then there were civil inquiries about the 
 health and salubrity of our respective families — not that 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LA.MB. 215 
 
 tlie great Miss Girdlestone could condescend to particu- 
 larize the Divets very accurately. It was b ighly reasonable 
 that / should have all the Girdlestones at my fingers' ends, 
 and inquire after them with becoming veneration ; but 
 do you know it was surprising the difficulty she found in 
 remembering my plebeian relations. She thought I had 
 nine brothers at least ; but then, to make amends for that 
 mistake, she recollected all about you^ grandpapa, in a 
 wonderful manner ; " and Phebe, subduing her voice, and 
 assuming, with fair success enough, the manner of a well- 
 bred gentlewoman, began mimicking Miss Girdlestone. 
 '• ^ Oh yes ! I recollect you have quite a marvel in your 
 family — somebody told me of it long ago. Do you know, 
 dear Mrs. Prescott, there is one of the most extraordinarv 
 instances of longevity in Miss Divet's family — she has a 
 great-grandfather upwards of a hundred, and — how 
 many years is it ? ten, I think, they told me — a hundred 
 and ten years old. Only imagine ma'm, what a miracle !' 
 
 ^•' ^ Dear, dear ! ' " cries this Mrs. Prescott. 
 
 ^' It was not the aunt, then ? " 
 
 " No, no ! a frightful old chaperon, who would have 
 looked a hundred and fifty at least, if she had trusted 
 to her natural charms. Such a wig ! and such a beau- 
 tiful set of teeth ! ^ Dear me ! ' says she, ' how very 
 unpleasant ! It is really very hard to perceive the pro- 
 priety of these unnatural long lives. I dare say I am 
 very wicked to say so ; but it seems such an unnecessary 
 thing to live till one is bald and toothless. I call it 
 quite preposterous ! ' " 
 
 Shouts of laughter followed Phebe's personation of 
 
216 THE THEEE CHA^s'CES. 
 
 the cliaperoDj which it must be owned came even easier 
 to her satirical propensities than her first imitation ; and 
 the applause was in no wise lessened as, assuming a look 
 of civil simplicity, she repeated her reply to the old lady's 
 declamation on the impropriety of living too long. " Ah, 
 ma'm," says I, " but with such beautiful hair and teeth 
 as you have the advantage of possessing, it's no wonder 
 you should be afraid of growing old — oh, it was rich ! " 
 said Phebe, clapping her hands. " The old idiot coloured 
 through her rouge, and looked so queer and conscious, 
 and I could see a funny little twinkle in the corner of 
 Miss Girdlestone's eyes ; the joke was not lost upon her, 
 though she was vastly too well-bred to laugh outright." 
 
 " Capital ! " was the general chorus ; " but how on 
 earth did you ever manage to bring in Frere ? " 
 
 '^ Why, as she chose to make my family (the darlino^ 
 Divets) the theme of her discourse, nothing could be 
 more natural than to present her with a sketch of exist- 
 ing circumstances at Etheridge ; and I took occasion 
 presently to say, in the simplest way in the world, that I 
 supposed she was aware that a mutual friend — ]\Ir. Frere, 
 in short — was an inmate of our house. I really did think 
 she knew where he was, but I soon discovered my error. 
 She opened her beautiful eyes and caught at my words. 
 ^ What, still in England ! ' she said, ^ and at Etheridge ? 
 Was I sure that he was there ? Quite sure ? ' And 
 then," said Phebe, putting on an aspect of almost child- 
 ish ncCiveU, " I was so kind ! so very obliging ! I am 
 sure I afforded Miss Girdlestone every information I 
 could possibly give her. But oh ! " changing to her 
 
THE DI vets' pet LA^IB. 217 
 
 natural manner, " if you could have seen how red she 
 turned, and then so pale — I couldn't help pitying her a 
 little/' 
 
 " Pity that girl ! " cried Mrs. Sarah, always Frere's 
 stanchest ally ; " I'd pity her with a horsewhip ! " 
 
 *' Don't be coarse, cousin Sally, if you can help it, and 
 let me come to my story's end. Well, she seemed hardly 
 able to speak for a little while, and then presently she 
 began to ask me all manner of questions — how long he 
 had been here ? and when he intended leaving ? and 
 then with a great effort, as if she could hardly get the 
 words out, she asked me how he looked ? and what kind 
 of health he had ? " 
 
 " And what did you tell her ? " 
 
 " The truth of course, Mrs. George Barclay ! " her sis- 
 ter replied, pursing her mouth very demurely. " But I 
 should tell you of something that heightened the amuse- 
 ment of the scene beyond measure ; and that was the 
 bye-play of the ugly old chaperon, who was trying, with- 
 out Miss Girdlestone's seeing her, to stop my indiscreet 
 tongue ; for of course she imagined I was sinning in 
 mere ignorance of the state of the case. What could she 
 imagine, after my compliment to her wig and et ceteras, 
 but that I was a model of guileless simplicity ? There 
 she was ever so long making all sorts of signs at me, not 
 one of which I pretended to see, though I really think, if 
 it had not been for the pleasui'e of plaguing the old 
 woman, I should have had more mercy on her friend ; 
 and so I kept looking at them both with such an inno- 
 cent smile, and I said I was sure it would give Miss 
 
218 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 Girdlestonej and all who had interest in Mr. Frere, the 
 highest pleasure to know, that he was not only in perfect 
 health, but that his unfortunate loss of hearing had not 
 depressed his spirits by any means so much as had 
 been apprehended." 
 
 " Well done ! " said Divet ; " that was a good stroke of 
 yours, at all events." 
 
 " And so true ! " his son-in-law remarked with a sneer. 
 
 " Ah, never mind if it was a bit of a story ! " said 
 cousin Sally ; ^'for, anyhow, it will keep the false jade 
 from crowing over him. And what did she say then ? " 
 
 " Why then the chaperon interfered outright. ' She 
 really thought,' " and again Phebe mimicked to the very 
 life the voice and contortions of an old lady with a 
 mouthful of false teeth — " ^ She really did think that this 
 subject — a most delicate one — a very — a most particular- 
 ly delicate subject — and trying — every body must per- 
 ceive — peculiarly tr3^ing — under certain circumstances — 
 and w^ith regard to events which — which there was no 
 occasion to touch upon — highly improper — it must be 
 considered highly improper — the introduction by a third 
 person — a mere stranger — in short, evidently improper — 
 a-a-nd — altogether absurd — and in my opinion the sub- 
 ject has been canvassed quite long enough — and — had 
 better be changed — Yes ' — looking fierce at me, ' better 
 be changed at once.' And then," said Phebe, squeez- 
 ing her little hands together with triumphant delight, 
 " you should have witnessed, all of you, the glorious — 
 the transcendent set-down she got from Miss Girdlestone. 
 She turned upon the old woman with such a look ! it 
 
THE DIVETS PET LA3IB. 219 
 
 would have done for an Empress, or the chief wife of 
 the great Mogul. ^ ]\Irs. Prescott/ said she, ^ I shall choose 
 my own topics of conversation, pursue them as long as I 
 like, and lay them down when I see fit to do so. To 
 you our meeting with this young' — I saw the word 
 person was on the tip of her tongue, but she checked 
 herself just in time — ^ our meeting with this young lady 
 may seem merely a common coincidence — an unfortu- 
 nate one, you may think it ; / see in it the hand of an 
 overruling Providence ! ' And then there followed," said 
 Phebe, " a little sparring between the friends, which, not 
 being acquainted with the nature of all their allusions, 
 even my wide-awake faculties were not quite up to ; but 
 it ended in Barbara looking very reproachfully, and say- 
 ing, that, ' seeing how cruelly ' (that was the word) — ^ how 
 cruelly she had been misled by those she had trusted 
 most, she would for the future rely upon herself alone.' " 
 
 " What the deuce did she mean by that ? " grumbled 
 Divet. 
 
 His eldest daughter was of opinion, " it could be of 
 no consequence luhat Miss Girdlestone meant. Even 
 supposing her to repent of her conduct to Frere (and 
 there was no reason to presume any such thing), she had 
 gone much too far, and compromised herself too fully, to 
 retract now." 
 
 " By the bye," said Divet, " I never mentioned to 
 you that I had a letter a day or two ago from Miss 
 Barbara Allen's papa. Only a matter of business, of 
 course — he wanted some information relative to an old 
 executorship, in which we were concerned together 
 
220 THE THREE CHANGES . 
 
 twenty years ago. He was always as helpless as a cliil J. 
 Lord bless my soul ! Do you remember, sir, the trouble 
 w^e had to make him understand the most trifling matter 
 in dispute — a fine handsome man he was in those days, 
 that looked as if he were equal to any thing, and yet the 
 poorest, faint-hearted creature ! Any thing that required 
 firmness and decision knocked him flat at once. Now, 
 when I answered Mr. Girdlestone's letter, I did not 
 think it necessary to say a syllable about our deaf friend 
 here. I was not anxious, like Miss Phebe Divet, to stir 
 up awkward recollections — to my poor judgment the 
 matter was better avoided." 
 
 It was rarely that Miss Palliser expressed any opinion 
 on the family discussions in that house ; but now, losing 
 sight of her accustomed forbearance, she said to Phebe, 
 " ]Miss Girdlestone's conduct has been indefensible, and 
 no one can blame her more strongly than I have done ; 
 but, ill as she has acted, I could not have w^ounded 
 her feelings as you did/' 
 
 ^'No, Miss Palliser," rejoined George Barclay hastily, 
 and with bitter emphasis ; ^' but you are not a Divet." 
 
 His sister-in-law stepping before him, dropped a 
 curtsy down to the very ground as she said, with 
 mock ceremony, ^' Allow me, Mr. Barclay, in the name 
 of the highly respectable family who have the honour 
 of bearing that designation, to thank you for the com- 
 pliment intended by your courteous remark;" then, 
 recovering herself, and holding out her dress in minuet 
 fashion, she stepped sideways, now rising to the very 
 tips of her little toes, and then repeating her curtsies 
 
THE DIYETS' PET LA3IB. 221 
 
 with a saucy air of defiance, and movements not 
 certainly devoid of grace. 
 
 It was just at that moment that Mr. Frere made his 
 quiet entrance, and, Phebe's back being towards the door, 
 his presence caused no immediate cessation of the Httle 
 interlude she was 2)erforming so dexterously. He heard 
 not the mocking tones conveyed by her young voice, nor 
 distinguished (for he had no cause to suspect' it) the 
 malice lurking in the glance of her eyes. To him it 
 was simply the playful action of a nice little person, half 
 child, half woman — a gay, innocent young creature, who, 
 in her own sportive way, was manifesting her joy at 
 returning home, and rejoining the company of her 
 affectionate relations. And amongst tJiem it seemed to 
 Frere that George Barclay's lowering brow was the only 
 dark spot ; and he could fancy the sullen voice which was 
 sounding the only false note in the domestic harmony. 
 So judged Manley Frere ! and many a man. with ears 
 as acute as his were dull of hearing, have fallen into 
 mistakes as flagrant, and far more inexcusable, regarding 
 the things that were passing before his open eyes. 
 
 David Divet, at the sight of Frere, was bustling for- 
 ward to hand up his youngest daughter, and make a 
 formal introduction of it, when the judicious Kezia, 
 grasping with a powerful hand one of the hinder buttons 
 of her father's coat, bade him be quiet ; and, herself 
 advancing alertly upon their guest, the little slate was 
 put into instant requisition, something traced thereupon 
 in a trice, and the tablet held up to him with such a 
 fond look at Phebe, as shewed that though her extreme 
 
2^2 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 youth forbade the necessity of a particular presentation, 
 yet there was something sweet to be said about their 
 " truant child," their " restored treasure," this pet lamb 
 of the Divets, which had been straying away so long 
 from its native pastures. 
 
 Miss Palliser watched the scene attentively : Kezia's 
 admirable acting ; the quick, bold glance which Miss 
 Divet directed towards Mr. Frere as soon as she became 
 aware of his presence, and the degree of attention he 
 thought it incumbent on him to bestow on an event so 
 interesting to the family. 
 
 Finding herself standing rather apart with George 
 Barclay, she ventured to say to him, subduing her voice, 
 '° This is an ingenious scheme — but surely they are 
 throwing away time and trouble ; it never can answer." 
 
 '^ I am not so certain of that," he replied in the same 
 tone. " The girl herself has the boldness of the very 
 devil, and^ his artifice too ; and, with the advantage of 
 her sister's abilities in addition to her own, there is no 
 saying what may not fall out ; for we are a remarkably 
 clever family, Miss Palliser, as no doubt you must have 
 perceived before now : I for one am proud of belonging to 
 it," he added with his usual sneer. 
 
 But ^Ir. Barclay's opinion made no impression on 
 Maria. She could perceive how natural it was that he 
 should form this judgment ; but he, the ruined sensualist, 
 whose sympathy she only sought because he hated his 
 relations, how could such an one as he enter into the 
 mind of Manley Frere, or appreciate the circumstances 
 which were liable to affect such a man ? Looking at 
 
THE DIVETS PET LAMB. 223 
 
 Frere, as he stood there in the midst of the family group, 
 she laughed within herself at the bare notion of his 
 being endangered by their machinations. But Miss 
 Palliser forgot that she was reasoning with ears as well 
 as eyes wide open — forgot the previous strong prej iidice 
 which had tended to sharpen her observation, and per- 
 haps to warp her judgment. It was scarcely possible for 
 her to put a candid construction on the motives which 
 actuated old Jesse Divet's descendants ; whilst, in their 
 operations on their deaf guest, they were working on a 
 foundation of kindly regard, and a confidence in their 
 simplicity and good intentions, which no shade of mistrust 
 ever crossed. 
 
 Then, especially as regarded this youngest of the 
 Divets, Maria was no impartial judge. Women, con- 
 scious of good looks themselves, are apt to over-estimate 
 advantages of person in their own sex. In their partia- 
 lity for a certain form of features or tint of complexion, 
 they are not sufficiently alive to the influence which lies 
 in glance or gesture, or something still more subtle and 
 hard to be defined — that power which men agree in 
 calhng "fascination," because a word derived from 
 affairs of witchcraft and diablerie is required to signify 
 its mysterious mode of action, and can alone excuse or 
 palliate the weakness of such as sink beneath the delu- 
 sion wherewithal it works ; the base trickeries of which 
 all probably but the victims themselves perceive, and 
 value at their true appreciation. We find the name as 
 often applied to that which is fair and good, as to 
 qualities of an opposite character — an instance of the 
 
224 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 frequent misuse of language ; for when men look 
 upon a fine face, or a form of goodly proportion, they 
 know wherefore they are pleased, can analyze the charm, 
 and give a reason for their raptures. There is no 
 witchery in this ; the clearer the sight, the easier will it 
 be to discern the really beautiful. It is when that 
 which wears indisputably a mean and common aspect — 
 when plainness of feature is united to coarseness of 
 expression ; when, I say, we find these things exercising 
 uncontrollable sway over the usually quick-eyed and 
 sober-minded, and grace and beauty are beaten fairly 
 out of the field of competition — then it is we see the 
 fitness of the word " fascination," to signify the seeming 
 inadequacy of the means employed, compared to the power 
 those means contrive to exercise. 
 
 If Maria had ever reasoned after this fashion, she 
 forgot to do so in the present case ; for she continued to 
 watch the little Divet's course of operations on Frere, with 
 what, as regarded Phebe herself, would have been pure 
 sceptical indifference, if her secret feelings towards the 
 object of these attacks had not rendered it impossible for 
 her to be devoid of interest in any — the very slightest — 
 circumstance, the merest trifle, in which lie was concerned. 
 
 At first Phebe's advances were made with some affec- 
 tation of reserve ; but so foreign to her nature was any 
 thing partaking of maidenly shyness, that all she could 
 compass was a certain demure and set composure, a 
 remnant of the days of the white frock and coral neck- 
 lace, when, with shrewdness enough to cover her real 
 audacity, she had been taken into company often beyond 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 225 
 
 her years, and had never failed earning golden opinions, 
 and the praise of being the very best-behaved child in 
 the room — •" so modest and genteel, and answering so 
 distinctly and to the purpose, and always taking the 
 smallest bit of cake on the salver/' " By which act of 
 forbearance," Phebe would say when describing her 
 juvenile tactics — ^^by which means I almost always 
 managed to get an extra slice pressed upon me." 
 
 Yery soon even this pretended modesty was laid aside, 
 and Phebe, confiding in her girlish looks, began to throw 
 herself in Frere's way, attempting, by various little arts, 
 to attract his notice and engage him in conversation, 
 which was as usual helped forward as much by the eyes 
 as the pen. 
 
 Until then the habits and occupations of the deaf 
 guest had been universally respected, and every thing 
 done to convince him that he might reckon on the space 
 encompassed by the Indian screen as a sanctuary sacred 
 from all interlopers, enclosing a solitude to all intents 
 as perfect as that once enjoyed by him in the pleasant 
 apartment from which he had been so politely expelled, 
 and which was now resounding^ with the strokes of the 
 workmen's hammers. LIi's. Joseph Mudge, indeed, over 
 zealous for Frere's conversion, had once made forcible 
 entry within that charmed enclosure, and had succeeded 
 in presenting him with a sermon of the Rev. Jonas But- 
 terfield ; and the gentle widow, watching her opportunity 
 had shuffled a tract or two amongst the papers which 
 strewed his table, but, under Kezia's watchful guardian- 
 ship, he had been secured from serious molestation. 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
226 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 The Indian screen, however, with its prim mandarins 
 and grinning dragons, proved no barrier against the 
 incursions of one who brought neither tract nor sermon 
 to justify her audacity. Miss Divet, ere many hours were 
 over, penetrated within that silent circumference, inter- 
 rupted Frere in the midst of his books and writings, and 
 literally forced him to attend to her. 
 
 Even those partial friends of Phebe's, who placed the 
 greatest reliance on her abilities, were startled at the 
 unexampled boldness of such a step. Her sister warned 
 her to " take care," and her fidgety father asserted 
 roundly, that she was going " a devilish deal too far ! " 
 
 '' Don't let her do it, Kezia ! " he exclaimed, nervously 
 perambulating that portion of the room which afforded 
 a glimpse into the sacred interior, while he directed a 
 most uneasy glance at what he could discern there. 
 "She doesn't understand his ways as we do. She'll 
 disgust him with her forwardness — Phebe will. She will, 
 indeed, my dear ! He is not used to the sort of thing — 
 how should he, you know — how is it possible he should ? 
 His mother was the very soul of punctilio ; and his aunts 
 — bless my heart — why, they were the terror of the 
 whole county for squeamishness and etiquette ! " 
 
 " And, pray, what might be the style of his lamented 
 grandmother?" asked Phebe pertly ; for she was quite 
 equal to carrying on the conversation, and doing busi- 
 ness on both sides of the screen at the same moment. 
 Her father, with a groan, continued to assert that the 
 " game was up ; " and it is certain that Miss Divet's recep- 
 tion within the '' precincts " did partly justify her father's 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 227 
 
 predictions. There was a slight but perceptible elevation 
 of Mr. Frere's eyebrows as she came upon him thus 
 unawares, which served to mark his civil surprise, and 
 was enough, while it drew forth muttered oaths from 
 David, to cause his eldest daughter to bite her lip. 
 
 Phebe also saw the unfavourable symptoms, for she 
 was a clever physiognomist ; but applying the hackneyed 
 quotation, that " the woman who deliberates is lost " to 
 her own uses, she kept her ground in spite of them, and 
 won the day. Had she been capable of blushing when 
 she found herself considered as an intruder, it would 
 have shewn that she wanted nerve for the prosecution of 
 her enterprise, or if — as an ordinary manceuvrer might 
 have done — she had attacked Frere with the common 
 artillery of soft words and sidelong glances, he would 
 have divined her purpose, and have foiled it with ease ; 
 but when she assailed him with an unblushing cheek, 
 and a style so free and unabashed — her resolute step 
 never faltering, nor her eye for a moment quailing 
 beneath his — what could he read in these signs but the 
 confidence of a simple character, which, knowing no 
 guile, suspected not the possibility of misinterpretation ? 
 The heart of this little girl, like those appertaining to 
 the rest of her kindred, trembled no doubt with the 
 kindest, the most benevolent pulsations, and she was 
 but following its innocent dictates. Yes, here was a 
 fresh sample of the Divets, inheriting their sterling 
 worth, their warm dispositions and natural address, with 
 the additional advantage of being young and lively. 
 And then, as was usual with his own generous nature, 
 
228 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 he reproved himself for the slight disturbance which had 
 seized him at Phebe's unexpected approach. "Why 
 should he sit there in exclusive dignity, and stare super- 
 ciliously at beholding a nice little girl when he raised 
 his head from his book, instead of an ugly old mandarin 
 sipping tea in a summer-house ? " Certainly just then he 
 would have preferred his own occupation ; but, to make 
 amends for any unintentional rudeness he might have 
 evinced, Frere laid down the volume he was reading, 
 and met the little Di vet's advances with appropriate 
 politeness. 
 
 It followed as a natural consequence — for efforts at vir- 
 tue are popularly supposed to bring their own reward and 
 consolation — it came to pass then, that very shortly there 
 was neither constraint nor difficulty in the matter ; for 
 Phebe was to the full as clever as the elder sister, whom 
 Frere liked so well : quite as ready with her intellect, 
 and as apt with her pen ; and a little encouragement on 
 his part, a very short colloquy, set the young lady as 
 much at her ease in reality, as she had been in appearance. 
 With a laugh of derision at her fearful relations on the 
 outside of the screen, she forthwith fetched a low stool, 
 which she placed at his feet, and, kneeling on it, con- 
 tinued conversing with him through the medium of 
 Kezia's little slate, which she assured him was worth a 
 hundred of his ivory tablets. 
 
 Well did Phebe Divet understand the game she was 
 undertaking to play when she commenced it with a dash 
 of contradiction ! Here was at once a subject for light 
 discussion and playful skirmish, very opposite to any 
 
TUE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 229 
 
 tiling Mr. Frere had entered into for many and many a 
 day; he defending his elegant little book with its studs 
 and fopperies of fine workmanship, she insisting on the 
 merits of her rougher, but, as she would have it, far 
 more serviceable auxiliary. In that house Frere was 
 used only to the soothing system — the most obsequious 
 regard to all his wants and wishes, and a ready con- 
 currence in whatever opinion he might choose to advance. 
 Even when conversing with Miss Palliser, the most 
 intellectual of the Etheridge household, he had missed 
 that habit of free and bold discussion, the easy play of 
 familiar dialogue, which had formed one of the greatest 
 pleasures in that existence which had now passed away 
 from him ; for Maria's feelings towards her deaf friend 
 had OTown into a sort of reverence, subversive of all 
 equality of intercourse. A timidity to which she had 
 never been sensible when conversing with any other 
 man, unless perhaps with her uncle, here overshadowed 
 her intellect, and awed her into diffident submission. 
 She would have held it a species of impertinence to 
 question the truth or propriety of any sentiment of 
 ]\Ianley Frere's ; or, if she did attempt any trifling argu- 
 ment, any thing beyond the rapt attention and earnest 
 looks with which she listened to his slightest word, it 
 was only that she might tempt him to say more. She 
 would note down some question, or remark on what he 
 had spoken, tracing her characters not with the free and 
 rather masculine hand which distinguished her ordinary 
 writing ; for, while conscious that he was watching the 
 movements of her pencil, it would wander along the note- 
 
230 THE THEEE CHAXCES. 
 
 book with feeble uncertainty, and the scroll miglit have 
 been easily construed for what, in truth, it was — the 
 effort of one who mistrusted her own powers of thought 
 and expression in the presence of the man she esteemed 
 as belonging to a higher order of being. And often, 
 when he was willing to continue their discourse, she 
 would shrink from what she so greatly coveted, fearful 
 of obtruding her bashful attentions upon him, thinking 
 " he must be tired of her — for what was she that she 
 should hope to amuse or interest Mr. Frere ?" Such 
 true humility there will sometimes be in the depths of a 
 loving heart ! Alas for Colonel Hussey ! Miss Palliser 
 was never afraid of talking to him. 
 
 Now, in his new acquaintance, Frere was untroubled 
 with any of that reverential regard which might smooth 
 down contradiction till it should become a thing of 
 nought. Phebe held the deaf guest in no higher consi- 
 deration (apart from her peculiar views on his person and 
 property) than any of the male specimens of Etheridge 
 society ; nay, in her heart she valued the young assistant, 
 improperly specified by cousin Sally as " the doctor's boy," 
 with his sandy whiskers, his forward compliments, and 
 comic songs, far above Manley Frere, and those higher 
 qualities of mind or person which had proved so dangerous 
 to Maria Palliser. Still, to the credit of Miss Di vet's con- 
 sistency, let us observe that, much as she might prefer 
 the gay young medicine man, she never for a moment 
 contemplated sacrificing her prospects of aggrandizement 
 to any paltry romance in which he could have enacted 
 the hero. In her scientific attack on Frere— for we hope 
 
THE DIVETS' PET LAMB. 231 
 
 to evince to an admiring audience that hers was no series 
 of inconsiderate manoeuvres, but a plan of operations 
 devised in " best wisdom," and carried out with equal 
 skill and audacity — in this systematic attack, Phebe 
 followed the instincts of a mind essentially ambitious, 
 and which (the idea having been once suggested to her) 
 could be contented with nothing less than becoming 
 mistress of Old Court. 
 
 And over and above this great point to be attained, 
 there were inferior but stirring incentives to the under- 
 taking. She was proud of the reputation for cleverness, 
 and what they termed " wit," which she held amongst 
 her family; and now, having been summoned home for 
 the openly-declared purpose of captivating the son of her 
 father's old client, what an imputation — what an 
 ineffaceable slur — would rest upon her vaunted talents, 
 should she fail to effect the conquest ! 
 
 Yea, even beyond the house, and many miles off from 
 the tattling town of Etheridge, Phebe knew for a cer- 
 tainty that her proceedings were being narrowly observed, 
 and most curiously canvassed. Divets, Barclays, Mudges, 
 there was not one of them out of the nine-and-twenty 
 guests who had assembled at the late glorious anniversary, 
 eating of the fat and drinking of the sweet — singing and 
 romping, shouting and speechifying — who had not a per- 
 fect understanding of the plan now in course of develop- 
 ment beneath the hospitable roof-tree under whose shade 
 they had caroused so long and lustily: not one of the triple 
 nomenclature had failed to penetrate the real motive of 
 Divet's pressing invitation to the rich Mr. Frere ; and 
 
232 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 ready though they might be to overwhelm her with con- 
 gratulations and wedding- gifts in case of her ultimate 
 triumph, there was not one who would not be equally 
 ready, and more truly pleased, to laugh at her discom- 
 fiture. The moment which should witness Frere's 
 departure from Etheridge, unshackled by promise — un- 
 fettered by vow — that mortifying moment must pro- 
 claim the downfall of Phebe as the flower of her family 
 and the pride of the Divets for feminine tact and ability. 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 233 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME? 
 
 The observant Divets forgot their previous misgivings 
 as they watched the progress Phebe was making in 
 Frere's good graces, and David especially grew as 
 sanguine as he had lately been desponding. Then, when 
 the little Divet had spent sufiScient time behind the 
 screen, she joined the family group, and, accosting them 
 with mock deference, begged to know if her papa had any 
 advice to bestow upon her future conduct ; or if her very 
 clever sister would oblige her with a hint, " a word in 
 season, as dear Mrs. Mudge would say;" for " of course 
 such an inexperienced young creature must be quite 
 incompetent to the management of her own affairs." 
 Then, without much further circumlocution, Phebe 
 began to expatiate upon her opening prospects, and 
 describe what she would do, and how comport herself 
 when she should take her place as mistress of Old Court ; 
 speaking in a tone as assured and decided as if its 
 master had already given her a legal title of admission 
 there, and lamenting that Miss Palliser's wedding-day 
 would probably precede her own, as it would prevent her 
 having the gratification of offering her cousins, the 
 
234 THE THREE CHA:5^CES. 
 
 Husseys, the use of Mr. Frere's country-seat as a retreat 
 during the honeymoon. " For I beg every one of you to 
 bear witness," said Phebe, "that though I shall be wonder- 
 fully exalted over all my relations, yet I mean to behave 
 with such humility that it will quite take the world by 
 surprise. I shall make a j)i'actice of encouraging the 
 Divets on all suitable occasions ; and if I cut the Mudges 
 utterly dead — which may probably happen after my 
 presentation — I shall shew the greatest consideration in 
 patronising the Barclays." 
 
 *• There is one of the name who will save you any 
 trouble on that score," her brother-in-law moodily 
 replied. 
 
 " But," said Kezia, taking up the word with a very 
 different expression, '^ his wife will be charmed to take 
 advantage of her saucy little sister's condescension. She, 
 will never refuse an invitation to Old Court, Mrs. IManley 
 Frere may assure herself of that." 
 
 ^' Lord bless you — no ! " said cousin Sally, joining in 
 the laugh. " We'll all go the very moment we are 
 asked, every man- John of us. Won't we, Davy, my 
 boy ? " 
 
 Again Maria Palliser, thoroughly alive to the coarse- 
 ness and indelicacy of all this, saw nothing in it but 
 what was despicable, and therefore — for so she judged — 
 innocuous. And greatly did she bless the kind star — 
 the clear, mild, glorious planet, which had risen on 
 Frere's nativity — that Phebe's outward charms were 
 not such as to atone for her moral obliquities. She con- 
 tinued to observe wdiat was passing, therefore, with 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 235 
 
 curiosity, and often with infinite disgust ; but scarcely 
 once were her apprehensions aroused for the event of 
 Miss Divet's machinations. Some annoyance more 
 than ordinary must indeed be felt, when she saw Mr. 
 Frere s grave and even melancholy expression relaxing 
 gradually beneath the influence of Phebe's artful 
 advances ; never had she heard his laugh till tliis false 
 girl came amongst them, and, when it first rea'ched her 
 ear, she hurried from the unwonted sound, contemning 
 as she went the wiliness of the one sex and the weak- 
 ness of the other, till a juster appreciation of Frere's 
 true condition convinced her that what caused his trial 
 constituted also his apology ! 
 
 A less prejudiced spectator must have given Miss 
 Divet credit for the aptness with which she seized every 
 advantage presented to her. The game of chess, often 
 found so useful as a medium of flirtation, was, under 
 existing circumstances, a mode of attack so glaringly 
 apparent that Phebe might scarcely seem to merit praise 
 for adopting it ; yet the boldness and determined perse- 
 verance which she displayed in carrying her point must 
 not be overlooked. Frere had latterly declined playing ; 
 the game, for which he had no particular partiality, was 
 not in the present case rendered attractive to him by 
 such an amount of skill in his opponents as might have 
 sufficed to rouse the spirit of emulation lying dormant 
 within him ; and, when the little Divet first proposed it, 
 he gave her a flat refusal. But she was resolved that 
 he should play with her, and play he did. She brought 
 the board, she placed the men, and though he told her 
 
236 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 rather seriously — " No, Phebe, not now — I am busy, I 
 have letters to write — besides, I am not in the humour 
 for playing/' still she persisted ; seating herself at his 
 table, and looking up at him with such arch entreaty, 
 that few could have seen her face at that moment with- 
 out allowing that there was something in it, if not actu- 
 ally pretty, more really attractive than prettiness itself. 
 
 "One little game ! " she begged imploringly, hold- 
 ing the slate before him, as she wrote — " Only one 
 — one little — little — little — little — " the word was 
 scribbled over and over again, from one end of the slate 
 to the otlier. Frere could not help smiling at what 
 seemed her childish importunity ; still he shook his 
 head — " That letter must be finished by post-time. Go, 
 silly child ! I'll play with you some other time." 
 
 " Youll play with me whenever I ask you, young man, 
 or I'll know the reason why ! " said Phebe aloud ; and, 
 rising up, she made a regular attack upon hirb, seized 
 the letter from his desk and the pen from his hand ; 
 whereupon a gay scuffle ensued, bordering so very nearly 
 on the nature of a romp, that the Colonel's stately 
 mistress bit her nails with vexation, and, lingering only 
 long enough to ascertain that Phebe's point was gained, 
 she left the vicinity of the chessboard in sore disgust : 
 still it was not Frere on whom she reflected, but that 
 arch-temptress, who had seduced him from the lofty, 
 rational demeanour that was so admirable in the siglit 
 of Maria. She suffered a couple of hours to pass away 
 before returning to the scene of action ; and, lo ! they 
 were playing still. For it must be confessed that, with 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 237 
 
 Phebe for an adversary, Mr. Frere found the game a 
 very different thing from what it had seemed when 
 David or the gentle widow had sat opposite to him, 
 either buried in dull silence, or gesticulating and grima- 
 cing in a style that offended his nerves. With Phebe, the 
 march of a castle or the skip of a knight often introduced 
 some shrewd remark, or sprightly rejoinder, which pro- 
 tracted the game, but added greatly to its amusement. 
 
 And, as there was a game within a game to be 
 carried on. Miss Divet took care that her smiles and 
 roguish devices should sometimes give place to a pre- 
 tence of deep attention, when she would ask him, with 
 an earnest yet taking simplicity, " Why he did this ? " 
 or, *' Why she should not do that .? " and as he took pains 
 to teach her — for Abelard was not the only man, by 
 many and many an one, who has enjoyed playing the 
 tutor to an agreeable woman — while thus he proceeded 
 with scientific explanation, the little deceiver, with her 
 eyes intelligently fixed on his, and lips that scarcely 
 moved, was all the time boasting to her audience before 
 the screen of '* How nicely she was taking in the p-o-or 
 d-ear deaf man ! Such a delicious case of humbug ! " 
 And sometimes it was Mrs. Barclay's cue to interfere, 
 with an admonitory finger held up at her sister, and a 
 hope expressed that Mr. Manley would not allow Phebe 
 to worry him. '^ The naughty girl has always been the 
 pet and plaything of the house, and we know that spoilt 
 children will be troublesome sometimes." 
 
 It proved no trifling advantage to Phebe Divet in her 
 designs upon Mr. Frere, that she was singularly young- 
 
238 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 looking for her years. She had in fact passed that 
 " phase " (as the moderns have it) of female existence, 
 when spinsters may legally receive and pocket their own 
 dividends ; but her figm'e was still so girlish in its pro- 
 portions, and she commonly adopted such a careless child- 
 like manner, that strangers were constantly deceived in 
 her age. Frere fell into the usual error of supposing her 
 a young thing, still considerably in its teens, and treated 
 her accordingly — that is to say, with a good-humoured 
 familiarity which was rather caressing than respectful. 
 The evening of their first acquaintance was hardly over 
 before he called her by her Christian name ; and though, 
 slightly apologizing for the liberty, never more accosted 
 her as Miss Divet. 
 
 He liked, he said, the name of Phebe ; it had lost the 
 coldness of its classical derivation, and had come to 
 breathe the soft atmosphere of pastoral life. " An air 
 warm and perfumed," he repeated with a smile, his 
 fancy wandering as he spoke from the simplicity of 
 adornment which would have characterized the Phoebes 
 of Grecian antiquity, but have ill accorded with Divet's 
 little daughter, to the coquettish flutter of ribbons and 
 garlands, with the pipes and crooks and other toys of 
 the medieval Arcadia, in which the second race of 
 Phebes had risen and flourished — a style incomparably 
 better suited to the innocent yet arch-looking person be- 
 fore his eyes. " She could never aspire to be celebrated 
 in an ode," he told her, " but might be well contented 
 with the madrigal which supplied its place." 
 
 The Divets were highly delighted with all this. So 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 239 
 
 long as Frere's expressions seemed to imply a compli- 
 ment to their " pet lamb," tliey had too little delicacy of 
 feeling to demur at the style, however negligent, in which 
 his approbation was conveyed. 
 
 Whenever any thing struck them as particularly 
 favourable to the grand project they had in view, some 
 report of it soon found its way to the Patriarch ; and on 
 this occasion Divet incontinently shufEed off to the old 
 gentleman's apartments, to boast that Manley Frere was 
 already — " actually already " — addressing their little girl 
 as plain Phebe, and likening her — " only think, my dear 
 sir ! — he has been comparing her to — what do you sup- 
 pose ?" rubbing his hands vehemently — " a shepherdess ! 
 nothing will serve him but she is like a shepherdess ! 
 She is a clever little thing, that must be allowed — 
 devilish clever ! Yes, he calls her a shepherdess ! Capital, 
 isn't it, sir ? Admirable, by Jove ! " 
 
 " Good, good ! " came the answer, more deliberately 
 given. " Our young man, then, comes on favourably 
 you think, David ? " 
 
 " Why, in fact, my dear father, what, considering all 
 things, can be better ? They have scarcely been in com- 
 pany with each other three times, and here he is compli- 
 menting her in the highest style. Ha, ha ! a shepherdess ! 
 Upon my soul, it only surprises me how quietly and 
 naturally every thing is coming round." 
 
 Old Divet echoed the chuckle of satisfaction, but in a 
 tone of moderation. Unbounded presumption of suc- 
 cess, even when the sun of prosperity seemed to shine 
 the fiercest, was not for one who had practised law 
 
240 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 and studied life for much the best part of his ninety 
 years. 
 
 ^' And so he makes fine speeches to her ah'eady ? and 
 our little Phebe is to be his shepherdess ! Ha, ha ! She 
 will have a singular swain in him, David ; " and the old 
 fellow's sense of the ludicrous found vent in a soft laugh, 
 and a peculiar twinkle of his deep-set eyes. " A deaf 
 Corydon figuring in an eclogue would be something of 
 a novelty, eh ? " 
 
 "Never mind that, sir!" said Divet triumphantly. 
 " There's nothing like modern improvements : besides, I 
 remember there was a song my grandmother used to 
 sing us about a blind beggar of Bethnal Green. I don't 
 know what you may think ; but in my opinion a deaf 
 millionnaire is quite as poetical as such an old fogie as 
 that." 
 
 " Just so, David ; you have hit the mark exactly, my 
 son — quite as poetical and much more to our purpose." 
 
 While the Divete thus exulted over the development 
 of their plans, Miss Palliser was curling her lip of scorn. 
 " He treats her like a child," she said, " and condescends 
 to her as he would to a mere baby." 
 
 " True," was George Barclay's reply ; " but if you had 
 seen as much of the world as I have, you would know 
 that it is precisely of such children and such babies that 
 men desire to take to themselves partners for life." 
 
 From such short and unsatisfying conferences with a 
 sympathizer, whose merits, except in one particular, were 
 very questionable — who often differed from her opinions, 
 and ended by violating her finer sense of right or pro- 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 241 
 
 priety — Miss Palliser always turned to Lucy Ainsworth 
 as her only real confidant. 
 
 The cousins met but seldom, years having latterly 
 passed without affording them the opportunity of re- 
 newing their personal intercourse, and exchanging face 
 to face, the youthful confidences in which their friend- 
 ship had originated. 
 
 Estimating character with an instinct of intelligence 
 almost too quick and unerring, and a judgment ever 
 verging towards the harsh, a nearer association with this 
 cousin might have disappointed Maria, for her taste was 
 growing every day more morbidly fastidious. But the 
 style of her correspondent was sensible and affectionate, 
 and in that leaning towards the sympathy of our kind 
 which is so common to humanity, that even Miss Pal- 
 liser's boasted self-sufiSciency could not check the natural 
 impulse. She had invested Lucy Ainsworth (a kind and 
 intelligent woman, but never an enthusiast) with just the 
 qualities which seemed to constitute her as a meet depo- 
 sitory for the secret emotions of a heart which none 
 beside herself had ever fathomed ; fanciful at times, and 
 wild and deeply imbued as these feelings were with the 
 despondency of a scepticism, which it was to be hoped 
 that circumstances rather than any natural tendency had 
 bred and fostered. 
 
 " I never," she said, " have had the patience or reso- 
 lution to keep a diary, though my letters to you bear 
 very much the same character : not that I profess to tell 
 even you all that passes through my brain ; yet if these 
 letters of mine could be compared with the generality of 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
242 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 journals, it might be found that I am, on the whole, as 
 open and honest with my cousin Lucy as most people 
 are with themselves. Knowing the deceitfulness of the 
 human heart, we cannot suppose that there are many 
 whose daily memorial of their lives is the perfectly un- 
 biassed and sincere thing they profess to make it ; for, to 
 be sincere, it must be a transcript of the writer's very self. 
 In it he must drag to light the secrets of his inmost soul, 
 suffering no natural remorse or sense of shame to restrain 
 him; any reservation or self-deceit would cause a fiawinthe 
 crystal mirror which he is holding before his eyes. There 
 must be a strict analysis of motives — base though they 
 may have been — ay, basest of the base ! and a noting 
 down in the plainest terms of every defeat that has fol- 
 lowed his faint efforts at bettering his wretched nature. 
 " Lucy — do you imagine such a faithful chronicle has ever 
 yet been kept by mortal man ? / do not. I believe there 
 is not one in ten thousand who would have the candour 
 so to examine themselves ; and that, if they had courage 
 and honesty for such an inquisition, existence would be- 
 come unbearable, and would be infallibly shaken off 
 before the volume was half written through, or the life 
 brought to a natural close. I speak not without expe- 
 rience, for I have often tried to set down a memorial 
 like this ; but as often I have found that there was mad- 
 ness, or something more dreadful still, before me, should 
 I persist in keeping it. I am justified therefore in saying, 
 that no human being, with sufficient tenderness of con- 
 science to describe himself as he really is, could bear the 
 exposure, even though assured that it would meet no eye 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 243 
 
 but his own — that the book, still clasped, was to be laid 
 by his side in the grave, and moulder into dust together 
 with the hand that had traced the miserable record : still 
 he would shrink from the task, as I have done. 
 
 " But there is an easier and lighter sort of journalizing, 
 the common propensity for which I have evidently not 
 escaped, or I should not be so often troubling you with 
 the details of my present life ; for I know you can feel 
 nothing but disgust when I describe these Divets to you ; 
 and as for ^Ir. Frere, you, having never seen him, cannot 
 be expected to enter into my feelings towards that most 
 interesting person. But though I have acquired this 
 idle habit of narration, I have no taste for sitting down 
 at the close of every day to tell myself what has happened 
 to that self during the hours of activity. I must have 
 something of a correspondent to write to, even if it should 
 be a reluctant one — some shadow of a shade of a confi- 
 dant. So that, even if my letters are thrown into the 
 fire half read, I should still address my diary to you rather 
 than to myself ; satisfied that, when it had served its pur- 
 pose of present amusement, it would never rise up, a thing 
 of shape and substance, to accuse my conscience in time 
 to come." 
 
 It was in answer to the very letter from which this 
 extract has been made, that Miss Ainsworth, as if desirous 
 to vindicate herself from the suspicion of being that con- 
 temptible cipher of a friend alluded to — that shadow of 
 a shade of a correspondent — took occasion to reflect 
 somewhat pointedly on the writer's mode of expres- 
 sion. 
 
244 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 Though denying any ardent attachment to Colonel 
 Hussey (for iadeed she constantly rebutted the sugges- 
 tion, that the weak passion of love could ever, or in any 
 case, gain dominion over her), yet Maria had always 
 proclaimed a very high respect for her future husband ; 
 professing to have engaged herself to him only for the 
 eake of his solid virtues, and estimating these at their 
 full value. 
 
 Such had been her language up to the period of her 
 residence at Etheridge House ; since when it had altered 
 perceptibly. Instead of the correct though moderate 
 terms in which she had been wont to extol her Colonel, 
 there was shortly no praise of him at all ; and then a 
 mist of dissatisfaction gathered about the subject, too 
 thin and unsubstantial to call immediately for the timely 
 comments of a friend, yet gradually thickening into 
 something which threatened one day to be a heavy 
 thunder-cloud. 
 
 Allusions to the absent lover grew less and less fre- 
 quent, and, when they did occur, were made in a spirit of 
 peevish detraction : the most alarming circumstance in 
 this change of style being the undeniable fact, that what 
 defect soever Miss Palliser took to dispraising in her 
 professed admirer, she was pretty sure to contrast by 
 some opposing perfection in the person, mind, or manners 
 of the Divets' deaf guest. What wonder, then, that the 
 discreet Lucy Ainsworth should ask herself, in some 
 anxiety, whether this Mr. Frere might not be varying 
 his amusements at Etheridge by undermining the 
 affections of Maria ? or resolve, before it was too late, to 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 245 
 
 act up to the friendship she professed for her kinswoman, 
 and boldly set before her the danger of her position ? 
 
 She waited only for a fair occasion of interfering — for 
 something tangible to lay hold upon, and make the 
 ground of a serious representation ; and it offered itself 
 at the conclusion of this very same letter, in the form of 
 a comparison between the respective constitutions of 
 Colonel Hussey and Mr. Frere, terminating as usual 
 greatly to the advantage of the civilian. 
 
 Perhaps the Colonel loas too apt to enlarge upon his 
 trifling ailments, and did not evince the best possible 
 tact in making them the principal subjects of his letters ; 
 yet this was no new feature in his character or correspon- 
 dence, but had long ago been noticed by his bride-elect : 
 though never until now animadverted upon so severely. 
 
 In mild but forcible terms, therefore, Miss Ainsworth 
 put the question to her cousin. How — seeing that the 
 slight indispositions of a lover were so distasteful to her, 
 and excited such marked displeasure — she would be able 
 to endure the complaints of a husband ? Where was 
 she to find toleration and temper to meet the heavier 
 dispensation, when called upon to tend Colonel Hussey 
 through some severe attack — or perhaps a lifelong 
 malady ? Then, adverting to her enthusiastic mention 
 of Mr. Frere, Miss Ainsworth proceeded. 
 
 " I could allow much for a generous sympathy with the 
 unfortunate, but that there is something in the style of 
 your letters — especially the last — that leads me to suspect 
 you would not be so apt to lose your temper with the 
 Colonel, if you were not in some danger of losing your 
 
246 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 heart to this deaf gentleman. Considering the peril to 
 your peace of mind which this supposition involves, I make 
 no apology for hazarding it. If I am mistaken, you, my 
 dear Maria, will allow for the ofificiousness of true friend- 
 ship ; but if my words shall have enlightened you as to 
 the nature of your feelings, I am convinced, from my 
 knowledge of your delicacy and high principle, that you 
 will exert your best energies in extricating yourself from 
 a very dangerous position." 
 
 The answer to these searching questions arrived 
 promptly, but afforded little satisfaction to the judicious 
 interrogator. 
 
 " You think me severe on the Colonel," Maria replied, 
 " and ask me how I should have patience to nurse him 
 through a serious illness ? You forget what has been 
 my vocation during the best years of my life, or you 
 would not ask such a question as that. Colonel Hussey, 
 though tiresome enough, can never be so distasteful a 
 subject in sickness as those whom I have already had to 
 deal with ; yet I have never been found wanting in 
 consideration towards them — for, whatever my faults 
 have been, I cannot accuse myself of actual hardness of 
 heart : it is the infirmities of the mind that disgust me, 
 not those of the body. Therefore, in the case you 
 imagine so trying to my disposition, I should have no 
 fear for either the patient or the nurse — he in enduring 
 his sufferings with decent fortitude, and I in doing my 
 utmost to alleviate them. But what I do fear, Lucy, 
 even unto loathing, is the being required to listen day 
 after day to a description of petty ailments, such as any 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 247 
 
 grown man with a proper sense of self-respect would 
 conceal from all ears save those of his physician ; and, 
 say what you will, the Colonel does not raise himself in 
 my opinion when he thinks to make his letters accept- 
 able to me — me of all people ! — by reciting his daily 
 complaints, his palpitations (physical, Lucy, not mental), 
 his qualms on this side, and his spasms on the other, 
 varied by an occasional eulogium on some famous 
 specific which he takes to relieve him, and which he 
 always carries about with him in his waistcoat pocket — 
 probably the same pocket in a corner of which my 
 miniature reposes ! 
 
 " But enough of this — for a heavier charge (as such 
 at least you regard it) remains to be answered. You 
 urge it on me as a fault that I am sensible of the merits 
 of Mr. Frere, and estimate him higher than the Colonel. 
 And what should I be worth if I were blind to them ? 
 and where would be my discernment if I failed to see 
 his superiority, not only to Colonel Hussey, but over 
 every living being ? I glory in the power I discover in 
 myself of appreciating what is so truly excellent, and 
 have no hesitation in owning, that my only idea of earthly 
 happiness would be the living with him for the rest of my 
 existence ; conscious that, in some slight degree, I was 
 ministering to his comfort or amusement, and feeling 
 my own erring nature growing more pure and hopeful, 
 through the influence of his bright and blessed example. 
 It is true also, that since I have known this gentleman 
 my own prospects have acquired a darker — or at least 
 a more dusky — tinge than ever. But fear not for me, 
 
248 THE THEEE CHAXCES. 
 
 Lucy — what I experience for Manley Frere is no turbu- 
 lent passion, dangerous to my conduct or tranquillity ; it 
 is a sentiment that may increase my despondency, but 
 must sanctify my life. 
 
 " I see before me a career of constraint and dissatis- 
 faction — days passed in irksome employment, and society 
 for which I have no taste, compared to which a solitude 
 as of the desert would be luxury and delight. But to 
 what purpose shall I have been endowed with an intellect 
 a few degrees superior to the generality of my miserable 
 sex, and a will which I know requires ,.only equivalent 
 energy in its development, to be omnipotent in its 
 freedom and power — to what end have been my mental 
 examinations, and tile careful analyzing of almost every 
 thought that has risen to my mind, if I have not 
 strength to sustain the destiny awarded me ? I will not 
 conceal from you, that since my stay at this house I have 
 more than once contemplated the propriety of breaking 
 my engagement with Colonel Hussey ; but cannot con- 
 vince myself that such a step would be advisable for 
 either of us. In his case, I should inflict pain and mor- 
 tification upon one of the sincerest and kindest natures 
 in the world — and for myself, what should I gain by 
 disconnecting myself from the only being but yourself 
 who ever cares for, or wastes a thought on, me ? I 
 should have immediately to enter into some unknown 
 state — to become the companion of other Divets : for I 
 know they are but a type of the world they live in. ^ly 
 poverty, whatever choice I make, must keep me essenti- 
 ally dependent, and therefore it must be evidently better 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 249 
 
 for me to be the lawful property of one true, well-meau- 
 ing person, than to sink into utter degradation as the 
 slave of many, whom I could neither love nor respect. 
 
 " Here, then, will I make my stand. No one will ever 
 know the conflict of my life, and it may be sterner even 
 than 1 apprehend ; but, instead of sinking hopelessly 
 under the burthen, or rushing in cowardly haste from 
 an existence yet unproved, my strength shall be sus- 
 tained, and to myself made manifest, by living as it were 
 a double life. My moving, speaking, acting self shall 
 be all devoted to the good man who has blindly chosen 
 me for his companion. I will harden myself to bear 
 with his weaknesses, as though tliey were hidden from me, 
 and welcome the society which our position brings 
 around us with an aspect of content. I will be just if I 
 cannot be generous, and give him all the kindness I 
 can, in return for the love and confidence he lavishes on 
 me. But then, that I may be fitted to endure this daily 
 martyrdom of constraint — this shame of eternal falsity — 
 I must cherish another life within myself; one of mental 
 activity : the thoughts which I dare not put forward, 
 because they would frighten my husband and shock his 
 friends, these I will follow in secret ; in the deep obscurity 
 of the innermost being, into which, when we please to 
 turn the key of exclusion, no living soul can penetrate. 
 There will I actually live, and gather all the happiness I 
 am capable of tasting — there, in those secret cells of 
 the brain, retire to recruit my strength for the daily 
 struggle. Once I believed that no gentler theme would 
 occupy this inward life than abstract speculation — 
 
250 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 dreams and theories, ever recurring and never to be 
 satisfied, of the future and the infinite. I am awakened 
 from that error ; and perhaps it has been well for me 
 that I have passed through it. My life of active duty- 
 will not be less profitable to others, nor my secret 
 thoughts surely less consoling, because there will be one 
 bright, star-like object on which my mournful memory 
 will desire to linger. No one can be injured by this 
 secret pleasure ; for so hidden will it be from all but you, 
 that if there be indeed a future existence — forgive that 
 ' if,' Lucy ! To you alone do I ever wliisper the doubt 
 which has possessed me — miserable wretch that I am ! — 
 ever since my thoughts grew into shape and purpose. 
 But if in truth my spirit, freed from a sad existence here, 
 should wander bodiless in worlds beyond, there to 
 encounter his, I shall meet him without shame, and 
 revel undauntedly in the consciousness of his presence ; 
 for he will never know in this life, and perhaps in a 
 higher sphere may never conjecturej what he has been 
 to me. 
 
 " Thus freely have I opened myself to one who, through- 
 out the whole term of our intercourse, has shewn herself 
 as wise as she is faithful ; for, in venturing this con- 
 fession, I trust, my dear Lucy, even more to the clearness 
 of your understanding than to the partiality of you^ 
 esteem. While there are many who would shrink from 
 me after this free transcript of my feelings, you — who 
 know and have greater discernment in appreciating the 
 influence of my early and peculiar discipline — will be 
 neither surprised nor alarmed to find me judging and 
 
ONLY ONE LITTLE GAME ? 251 
 
 determining very differently from those who have been 
 reared under an opposite course of training. Still, if a 
 shadow of anxiety rests upon your friendly heart as to 
 my future career, and that of my good though dyspeptic 
 Colonel, consider, I entreat you, that here there is not 
 even a struggle between duty and inclination; I and 
 my poor pretensions being so utterly overlooked, so ig- 
 nored by Mr. Frere — who, though he treats me, when- 
 ever we are to2:ether, with a courteous attention far more 
 acceptable to my taste than the familiarities he falls 
 into with Phebe Divet, has never in the course of our 
 acquaintance distinguished me with the slightest par- 
 ticular notice — and would not, I will answer for it, if we 
 were to live together as we are now doing for twenty 
 years to come. Ah 1 would that that could be !. 
 
 " No, Lucy, such women as circle around him here — 
 and I include myself sincerely amongst the number — 
 such women are not of the mould or manner that can take 
 his calm, lofty nature by surprise. They say his Barbara 
 was most beautiful, endowed with all sorts of accom- 
 plishments, and with manners that none could resist — 
 they say so ; but it is hard to believe that she, who has 
 treated him so heartlessly, can in any thing resemble 
 this description. I have formed the idea of her cold, 
 glittering eye and false smile, till the image of my fancy 
 seems all but real ; and I feel convinced that, if I sought 
 her in a crowd, there would be some sympathy of 
 repulsion between us — an instinct of dislike that would 
 point her out to me at once." 
 
252 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 THE SHEPHERDESS MAKES A FALSE MOVE, CAUSING HER 
 ADVERSARY TO CASTLE HIS KING. 
 
 Miss Palliser's letter was duly finished, and all but 
 sealed, when across the last half page came a hurried 
 postscript: Colonel Hussey had arrived earlier in the 
 week than she expected him — " I believed myself safe 
 for at least three days longer," she remarked ; ** but there 
 is no reprieve for me in tliis world." Then she went on 
 to censure what she called " this freak " of the Colonel's, 
 ^'so foreign to his usual deliberate habits; and there 
 are people who, having formed a character for consistency, 
 would do well not to transgress it unnecessarily. How 
 often have I heard him say — for he makes no scruple of 
 repeating a pet aphorism pretty often — that * surprises 
 were foolish things ; ' and now he is practising upon me 
 the very thing he despises I " 
 
 There had been time only to scribble this ungrateful 
 paragraph, but not to repent of it, when, lo ! there came 
 a drumming at Miss Palliser's door as of twenty full- 
 sized knuckles, instead of the moderate allowance 
 commonly apportioned to woman ; while the voice of 
 cousin Sally thundered to her not to " shilly-shally about 
 dressing up in her best beseems ; for you know, my 
 
A FALSE MOVE. 253 
 
 dear," said she, putting her shrewd yet good-humoured 
 face within the doorway — " you know as well as I do, 
 that Ben Hussey would rather have you come down to 
 him in a grogram gown and a stuff apron, than the 
 Queen of Sheba all bedizened to meet King Solomon." 
 
 Maria, hastening to seal her letter, answered she was 
 quite ready, and, with a forced vivacity that sat very 
 awkwardly upon her, kept talking much faster than 
 usual ; amongst other irrelevant matters, asking Mrs. 
 Sarah, as they went together down-stairs, " What was 
 the meaning of the word grogram ? What sort of 
 stuff could it be ? Was it what they used to wear 
 for penitential garments ? And did cousin Sally really 
 think Colonel Hussey would like her to meet him in 
 sackcloth and ashes ? " 
 
 There was something so unlike herself in the sound 
 of Miss Palliser's laugh, that the old lady, in her gruff 
 but sensible way, requested her " not to talk such non- 
 sense," and so they completed their descent from the 
 upper story. 
 
 A world of thought may be entertained even in 
 coming down an ordinary staircase at an ordinary pace. 
 The foot must plod step by step till it reaches the solid 
 floor or the stone pavement ; but where is the limit 
 assigned for the brain which gives the impulse to that 
 foot ? What measured gradation or final resting-place 
 shall ever be found for that ? Waking or sleeping it 
 must still work on, and each round of the mental 
 ladder be formed of some human thought, implying the 
 power of transgression — if not the very act itself. 
 
254 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 To judge by Maria's expression as she effected this 
 short transit to the presence of her betrothed, she might 
 have been suspected of forming some important reso- 
 lution in which his interests were specially involved. 
 But her disposition, though perverted, was not devoid of 
 generosity, and it was somewhat to the credit of the 
 human nature she was so prone to depreciate, that the 
 meeting of this morning, instead of heightening the 
 irritability caused by Colonel Hussey's sudden appearance, 
 served materially to allay it. Indeed, it would have 
 argued a want of the very commonest elements of 
 feminine sensibility, had she encountered his warm 
 greeting without some touch of compunction for the 
 ungrateful sentiments so lately harboured against him — 
 him, who had never in thought, word, or deed, evinced 
 one disloyal thought towards her ! 
 
 She had been so busy for some time past cavilling at 
 every foible of his, and magnifying his least defect, that 
 the Colonel's better qualities were vanishing fast out of 
 her remembrance ; so that, when she met him speaking 
 and moving exactly in his usual fashion, and as he was 
 wont to do when his company had been the most accept- 
 able to her, and had constituted, without doubt, the 
 pleasantest solace of her isolated condition — then the 
 impression of those old times (for old they seemed to 
 her now) came back and settled upon her heart ; 
 and, even as she lamented and excused the obduracy of 
 that heart, it grew softer, and more susceptible of less 
 selfish imaginings. 
 
 In this critical point of their intimacy. Colonel 
 
A FALSE MOVE. 255 
 
 Hussey's quiet manners stood him in excellent stead. 
 Had he approached his faltering mistress in the character 
 of an impassioned adorer, he would have been insuffer- 
 able to her, but she was spared that trial ; for though the 
 absence which had partially alienated her had served but 
 to heighten his true affection, his mode of address was 
 still that of a tender and devoted friendship, displayed in 
 all things that could minster to the welfare and gratifi- 
 cation of its object, rather than by the demonstrations of 
 a sighing swain. 
 
 But perhaps what touched Maria more than every thing 
 else in the behaviour of her affianced husband, was the 
 perfect and implicit reliance with which he regarded 
 her, she knowing all the while how grievously she was 
 deceiving him. The signs of that great change which 
 had actually past over her since their last meeting, her 
 absent manner and hurried articulation, were not entirely 
 lost upon him, but his observations never took the form 
 of jealousy or distrust ; himself incapable of a thought 
 unfaithful to his Maria, the good Colonel never for an 
 instant suspected her of infidelity towards himself. 
 
 For the first time in her acquaintance with Colonel 
 Hussey, ^liss Palliser tacitly acknowledged herself the 
 inferior being ; she had never thought his face remarkable 
 for expression, yet this day she could not look steadily 
 upon it, but felt her eyes ever sinking abashed beneath 
 his gaze, as it rested upon her, beaming with such trustful, 
 calm security ; nor, as he went on quietly chatting with 
 
 her, could she observe how much his thoughts had been 
 
 • 
 
 occupied by her, and how, in the preparations for their 
 
256 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 marriage and subsequent voyage, her satisfaction and 
 convenience bad been ever bis cbief concern, witbout 
 applying to berself tbe unintentional reproacb, and 
 wishing, in sad sincerity, that she were better able to 
 reward the unmerited devotion of so kind a nature. 
 
 Mr. Frere, who had been abroad all the morning, did 
 not return home till long after the Colonel's arrival ; yet 
 even liis entrance failed to turn the rational course of 
 her reflections, or materially disturb the good resolutions 
 she had been forming. 
 
 The very slight link of sympathy which had seemed 
 to connect Maria with this interesting and unfortunate 
 man, when on that one happy day she had walked by 
 his side as liis interpreter and adviser — this sweet im- 
 pression of mutual understanding — was never to be 
 renewed ; another had taken her place. The Divets, 
 who, to do them justice, were seldom backward in kind- 
 ness to their poor neighbours (though a certain bustle 
 and love of publicity was apt to herald their good deeds), 
 had accompanied their deaf guest to the scene of the 
 conflagration ; and there, at the ruined village, Miss 
 Palliser could picture to herself how effectually, and yet 
 with a show of perfect simplicity, he and Phebe had 
 been coupled and associated together ; that ready little 
 person filling the gentle office that she had found so 
 strangely sweet — and filling it, no doubt, so well — with 
 such clever alacrity — such easy bright-eyed cheerfulness ! 
 
 There was some aching of the heart as this vision 
 crossed Maria, yet it had jts ^use in drawing her closer 
 still to her unsuspecting lover, pointing liim out as her 
 
A FALSE MOVE. 257 
 
 sole stay and support ; the only real friend she had to 
 look to for the reciprocation of those human sympathies 
 which she was tardily learning to appreciate ; therefore 
 she checked the sigh that was bursting from her bosom 
 as an offence against him, and for herself a luxury too 
 great to be indulged. 
 
 A more common mind than Maria's misrht have 
 sought comfort in reflecting that if her fancy had gone 
 astray for once, the error, short-lived and quickly repented, 
 was far transcended by that most absurd delusion which 
 her host and his daughters were so seduously nursing ; 
 but to Maria, the bare possibility of being justly compared 
 in conduct or feeling with any of the Divets, was but 
 another cause for self-condemnation. And we may 
 observe, in further illustration of this sentiment of aver- 
 sion, that within the range of imaginable topics, there 
 was not one which threatened so seriously to lower her 
 esteem for Colonel Hussey, and her faith in his prin- 
 ciples and propriety, as the indulgence he uniformly 
 displayed towards the designs and unblushing conduct 
 of liis relations. It struck her as a circumstance no less 
 strange than unlucky, that they should differ thus widely 
 on a subject to her so peculiarly interesting, and one 
 the discussion of which it was scarcely possible for her to 
 escape. Miss Palliser forgot that it was because the sub- 
 ject peculiarly touched her feelings, that she was rendered 
 so sensitive about the Colonel's opinions. Many a 
 matter of taste or feeling might have been discovered, 
 affording as complete an opposition of sentiment between 
 herself and her future husband as this ; but, being quec- 
 
 VOL. L s 
 
258 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 tions of perfect indifference to her, they were suffered to 
 pass into oblivion, without care or comment. Here a 
 partiality acknowledged only to her own heart, and her 
 correspondent Lucy Ainsworth, caused her to be doubly 
 observant, and, wherever the Colonel was concerned, little 
 less than hypercritical. 
 
 Her lover bore on ordinary occasions the impress of a 
 gentleman, yet something verging on positive vulgarity 
 affected his tone of thought and expression whenever he 
 referred to the deaf guest ; and Miss Palliser would have 
 gone miles to avoid the mortification of hearing the Colo- 
 nel make what he called " the agreeable " to Frere. With 
 overstrained gesticulation and misplaced emphasis, he 
 would commence in a consequential key some rigmarole 
 about himself and his future destination, including some 
 notice of the yellow fever at Gibraltar, and interspersed 
 with sundry allusions to his own state of indigestion and 
 dyspepsia ; which hard word producing a wondering look 
 from Frere, fully justified the unanimous interference of 
 the whole family — cousin Sally vociferating her loudest — 
 to make it intelligible, while Kezia's slate and Phebe's 
 pretty fingers came equally into play. 
 
 From a slight dialogue thus carried on, the good Colo- 
 nel turned to his betrothed, and in a tone of infinite 
 content and complacency said, ^' And so, my love, I find 
 you make it out better with poor Frere than you ex- 
 pected. Ah, Maria ! " and he regarded her with an arch 
 yet approving smile, " I shall oblige you to confess, after 
 all, that I comprehend you better than you do yourself. 
 I was sure you would find good-humour and patience 
 
A FALSE MOVE. 259 
 
 enougli to meet any occasion where such qualities were 
 demanded — quite sure ; " and taking a hand of his fair 
 friend in one of his, while he gently and deliherately 
 patted it with the other (a favourite mode with the good 
 Colonel of expressing the overflowings of his manly ten- 
 derness), he added — " When was my Maria ever deficient 
 in kindness and compassion towards the unfortunate ? " 
 
 " I have little occasion for the exercise of any such 
 virtues/' she coldly replied. " Mr. Frere has a fund of 
 acquirements that render him quite independent, and 
 place him very far above any efforts / could make to 
 amuse him." 
 
 '^Poor fellow!" said the Colonel complacently — "I 
 am glad to hear it. Yes, I remember hearing he was a 
 good linguist, and pottered a little in botany and that 
 kind of thing. But, for all that, I am given to understand 
 that our deaf friend shows no objection to the assistance 
 of a certain fair lady in passing away the dull hours of 
 the day." 
 
 Miss Palliser answered the Colonel's knowing smile 
 with a curl of her contemptuous lip. " If you allude to 
 the matrimonial designs which this family have formed 
 with regard to him, I think both you and they will 
 shortly discover how foolishly their time has been wasted 
 in the pursuit." 
 
 He was surprised, and altering his tone said, " Why, 
 even the Patriarch considers the thing all but settled, for 
 he told me so himself when I went to pay my respects 
 to him just before dinner ; and look at them— just look 
 at them now — Maria ! What do you say to that, eh ?" 
 
260 THE THREE CHAJ^CES. 
 
 But Miss Palliser refused to see any thing suspicious 
 in what the Colonel referred to — Phebe busily talking to 
 Frere with her little hands, and he looking down upon 
 her with that air of civil superiority, which Maria thought 
 was never more evident than when he came in contact 
 with this ai-tful girl ; answering her a careless word now 
 and then, and occasionally smiling at what she said, or 
 perhaps at the glance of her arch little eyes. The 
 Colonel's mistress drew herself up disdainfully — "An 
 ordinary man," she said, " might be in danger; but there 
 is too much both of pride and delicacy in ]\Ir. Frere to 
 allow of his becoming the dupe of Phebe Divet." 
 
 " Humph !" the Colonel stiffly rejoined; "Mr. Frere may 
 do a worse thing for himself than marry my cousin Phebe." 
 
 "As she is your cousin," said Maria softening her 
 tone, " and as I am profiting by the hospitality of her 
 family, I must take heed how I express myself; but I 
 think I know what you would say if you were to s^ any 
 other family acting like the Divets — leaguing together 
 to ensnare a man of Mr. Frere's rank and fortune, and 
 especially one whose circumstances ought to give him a 
 pecuhar claim on their protection as well as respect. I 
 am sure you would consider that he, of all persons, 
 should be held sacred from such interested designs." 
 
 "But don't you see, my love, that it is this very 
 peculiarity in the circumstances of poor Frere that places 
 the question with regard to him and Phebe out of the 
 common line of argument.^ Supposing him to be 
 enjoying all his faculties hke other people, there could 
 bo but one opinion on the subject; but with disadvaa- 
 
A FALSE MOVE. 261 
 
 tages like liiSj poor fellow ! he may be reckoned only too 
 lucky if lie should get such a nice little wife as Phebe 
 Divet to take care of him. Depend on it, Maria, that is 
 the view that will be universally taken of this matter. 
 Why, even you yourself, my dear girl,'* and here the 
 pa ttings, which had subsided during the heat of discussion, 
 were resumed with such spirit that it required all ]\Iiss 
 Palliser's resolution not to draw her hand away. 
 
 " I do full justice to the generosity of your nature, and 
 am persuaded you would cling to the man of your choice 
 througli every accident that might befall him— nobody 
 acquainted with my Maria can doubt her stability; but 
 put yourself for a moment— just for a moment — in Phebe's 
 place, and fancy what it would be to have to twiddle 
 your fingers as she is now doing all day long, or speak 
 through a tube, or shout like Mrs. Sarah. Ah, Maria, 
 Maria!" and the Colonel laughed triumphantly, "I see 
 you shrink at the bare mention of such a life, and the 
 recapitulation of such sad duties. And no wonder, my 
 love : amiable as you are, you need not be afraid of con- 
 fessing a feeling which must be natural to all your sex. 
 So, with that conviction on our minds," added the 
 Colonel cheerfully, "let us not grudge poor Manley 
 Frere the lucky chance that has fallen to his lot, or 
 inquire too narrowly into the motives and views of the 
 good-natured girl who volunteers to make liim happy. 
 And, prejudice apart, Maria, we must allow that she 
 manages our deaf friend to perfection-^eh ? See how 
 the little rogue humours and plays about him ! Ha, ha ! 
 Yery well, Miss Phebe ! very well, indeed !" 
 
262 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 "Isn't she admirablej Ben?" said Divet, who had 
 fidgeted up to the lovers near enough to catch some- 
 thing of the Colonel's applause. " Doesn't she do it 
 capitally ? Twists and turns him whichever way she 
 likes, by Jove ! And now she is taking his dogs in hand. 
 Bravo, bravo ! The little vixen adapts every thing to her 
 purpose — turns every thing so neatly to account. Upon 
 my soul her abilities perfectly astonish me — they do, 
 indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Miss Palliser, as David shuffled off again ; 
 " the very animals in this house — the innocent, uncon- 
 scious animals — are made subservient to the plots and 
 double-dealing that is carried on in it ! '' 
 
 In explanation of which caustic remark, it must be 
 mentioned that, as a likely means of attracting Frere's 
 attention to herself, Phebe Divet had constituted herself 
 preceptress to the two dogs, his constant companions — had 
 been teaching them a variety of little comic tricks, such 
 as to stand erect on their hind- legs, beg, ring the bell at 
 the word of command, and even occasionally to carry 
 notes and written messages to their master, establishing 
 thus a new and whimsical sort of correspondence, w^iich 
 could not, she judged, be otherwise than favourable to her 
 plans. And as these lessons, whether they resulted in 
 the proficiency of the pupils, or the disappointnient of 
 the teacher, were rendered by Phebe's clever acting 
 equally entertaining to her audience, the device seldom 
 failed of success, and, by means of his four-footed satellites, 
 Frere was often won to take an interest not otherwise 
 to be awakened in the witching ways of Miss Divet. 
 
A FALSE MOVE. 263 
 
 Still tliere was a desired point which Phebe failed to 
 compass, and Miss Palliser directed Colonel Hussey's 
 attention to it, as a proof of the very little real influence 
 the young lady had secured over the deaf guest. Shako, 
 the Skye terrier, was resigned to her without a struggle ; 
 he was young and frivolous, his master said, *' a coxcomb 
 at heart, and brimful of egotism ; so Phebe might do 
 what she pleased with him : her drilling and lecturing 
 could not make of him a more shallow puppy than he 
 was before. But Jock — good old Jock " — caressing as he 
 spoke the larger and older dog, Frere's tried friend as 
 well as follower — " never should Jock be indoctrinated 
 after any such fashion : his virtues were complete, and, 
 for his manners, modern accomplishments would but 
 corrupt their simplicity." Jock, agreeing in the opinion 
 that it was a work of supererogation for him to go to 
 school again, turned an ear almost as deaf as his master's 
 to Phebe's winning voice, and an eye infinitely more 
 suspicious upon the gestures she employed to coax and 
 delude him. 
 
 Backed bv that beloved master, whose look was law to 
 him, and whose slightest whistle sufficed to keep him a 
 willing prisoner at his side, Jock on ordinary occasions 
 held out successfully against that mysterious power of 
 fascination we have elsewhere ascribed to David's 
 daughter, but which seemed to possess no magic for tlie 
 sensible old dog. Still there had been seasons in Jock's 
 Etheridge experiences when he too had succumbed to 
 the fatal influence — when Frere, sunk in thought, or 
 occupied to the exclusion of outward things, sat with 
 
264 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 averted looks, oblivious to his favourite's temptations, 
 here Jock's unaided resolution had been unequal to the 
 occasion. When Phebe had lured him with some 
 savoury morsel, stealthily offered to his notice round the 
 corner of the Indian screen — the remnant of nice plum- 
 cake, or fragment of toast saturated with butter, or any 
 other dainty known to be particularly acceptable to Jock ; 
 then indeed the strife between duty and inclination 
 waxed fierce and hot, and its symptoms shewed that 
 Frere's petted companion was very far from being the 
 stoic he would have had the world suppose him. A 
 tremulous motion would take place in Jock's limbs, and 
 his tail betray a reluctant inclination to wag. His 
 uneasy looks would wander from the gay little temptress 
 to the face of his unconscious master : he would fain 
 execute a gape of indifference, but, checking the move- 
 ment midway, licks his longing lips. Then those spark- 
 ling eyes of Phebe's shew signs of triumph, for she loves 
 to conquer, though it be but a four-footed thing that 
 confesses her sway ; and here we know she is meditating 
 a double victory, and foresees the owner's fate in that of 
 his dog. 
 
 And so the trial between artifice and honesty ends 
 in the capture of poor Jock — who, with a vain but 
 most expressive glance of appeal towards Frere, ventures 
 from his side, and follows the bait with shamefaced 
 reluctance and watery jaws. Secured ere the morsel 
 is down his throat, Jock must submit to the will of the 
 victor, and his deaf friend dreams not of the favourite's 
 fall till the barrier which divides them is suddenly 
 
A FALSE MOYE. 265 
 
 withdrawn, and his attention directed to the once respect- 
 able Jock, now sitting erect in an opposite corner, a 
 shawl round his shoulders, a gay cap of Kezia's upon 
 his head, and on his hairy nose a pair of the Patriarch's 
 spectacles ! His honest face shews how painfully 
 conscious he is of the laughter and ridicule of which 
 he is the object ; but the crowning point of his humilia- 
 tion is only reached when he sees his master — that kind, 
 tender, considerate master — pausing a moment, and 
 joining in the laugh before he interferes for his relief. 
 
 Some such interlude it was that at present elicited 
 the applause of the Divets, and confirmed Colonel Hussey 
 in his opinion that their hopes were well-grounded, not- 
 withstanding that his mistress failed not to point out 
 to him, as a fact highly significant of the real state of 
 afi'airs, that Mr. Frere, much as he seemed to be indulg- 
 ing Phebe in her childish caprices, ended nevertheless 
 by a polite but sufficiently peremptory intimation that 
 Jock was not to be persecuted, but that she must con- 
 tent herself with Shako for a pupil : and even with regard 
 to the younger dog there was a proviso made ; for in 
 teaching him to fetch and carry — "of course a most 
 desirable accomplishment," Frere added, good-humoured- 
 ly, " and one which would be extremely useful to himself 
 and his master — still he should take it kindly if the 
 fair instructress would select any other article of small 
 compass to be forwarded to him by the jaws of Shako, 
 rather than his own correspondence. It might be a 
 formal prejudice on his part, but he certainly did prefer 
 having his letters delivered to him with the seals un- 
 
266 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 broken " — a circumstance which did not always happen 
 when Shako was the messenger. Upon this the young 
 lady went through a pretty little pantomime, expressive 
 of her penitence at the mischief she and Shako had 
 been guilty of between them — her father murmured his 
 apprehensions that she was coming it too strong, ^^ miicli 
 too strong, Miss Divet ! " and Mrs. George made gestures 
 of sisterly reproof, as if warning her ^' pet lamb " not to 
 take such liberties for the future. Frere as usual was 
 fairly taken in by the family performance, but still the 
 concession was to be all on Phebe's side — he maintained 
 his good-humour undisturbed, but his position also, and 
 his last words on leaving the room were, " You under- 
 stand, Phebe — handkerchiefs are allowable — nosegays, as 
 bordering on the sentimental, still better — but letters 
 with solemn seals and postmarks are strictly prohibited." 
 " As if Ms letters were of such wonderful importance ! *" 
 Phebe muttered as his back was turned, and her smiling 
 aspect changed to one of angry contempt. The Colonel, 
 as much deceived as Frere by the childish glee with 
 which she had played her previous part, overlooked the 
 blank expression that followed it. Not so his more 
 sagacious mistress ! She had lately taken up an opinion 
 that Phebe Divet, while publicly upholding the glowing 
 hopes of her family, and treating the deaf guest as a 
 conquest so easy as to be almost beneath her abilities, 
 was far from being so secure of her victory as she pro- 
 fessed herself; and her present behaviour went far to 
 confirm the suspicion. Had !Miss Palliser been strait- 
 ly questioned on the grounds of this conjecture, she 
 
A FALSE MOVE. 267 
 
 mio-ht hardly have ventured to adduce the slight and 
 fugitive signs on which it was actually founded — some 
 muttered word or passing glance of disgust or impatience, 
 which, through all her pretended ease and satisfaction, 
 betrayed something of the anxiety working within. 
 
 And Maria was not far wrong. Frere, ever courteous, 
 often kind, and sometimes complimentary, was not the 
 easy victim upon which Phehe had calculated ; and the 
 compliance with her whims and vagaries, which so 
 delighted the Divets, she now and then suspected to be 
 but the result of a careless indifference, any thing rather 
 than flattering to her vanity, or encouraging to her views. 
 She knew it was his melancholy creed, that his time had 
 become a thing of no importance, and so, perhaps, he 
 wasted a portion of the profitless commodity on little 
 Phebe Divet. Her secret misgivings, nevertheless, what- 
 ever they might amount to, seldom threw Miss Divet off 
 her guard, so as to make her lose sight of the character 
 she aimed at maintaining ; that, viz., of an intelligent, 
 impulsive, but affectionate girl, a " child of nature." 
 
 Once, however, incited by indomitable conceit, or 
 rendered desperate by the slow progress she seemed to 
 be making, the young lady had hazarded a new line of 
 action ; and, as a means of persuading Frere to some 
 slight matter in dispute between them, had adopted a 
 style, half fond, half sullen, unlike any thing she had 
 ventured before ; but there was that in the expression 
 of the deaf man's eyes that instantly warned her of her 
 mistake, and she never incurred it again. It was not 
 that he looked angry, or the least alarmed, but what was 
 
268 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 passing seemed to strike him as a thing that might be 
 called "comical," or at all events '^ unnecessary ;" and 
 Phebe positively hated him as he moved off with this 
 doubtful expression playing round his mouth, and 
 repeating to himself (yet not so softly but it reached 
 her quick ears) the opening lines of some old-fashioned 
 pastoral, which her name had brought to his recollection : 
 
 " My time, O ye Muses, was happily spent, 
 "When Phebe went with me wherever I went ! ** 
 
 The slight touch of good-humoured satire conveyed by 
 Frere's manner, haunted her long afterwards ; and taking 
 the hint with readiness, if not humility, she forebore 
 for some time to follow her shepherd too closely, deaf 
 as he might be, and manageable as she had falsely con- 
 cluded him. Trivial as the discomfiture may seem, to 
 Phebe it was painfully significant, and she carefully 
 abstained from mentioning it, even to Kezia. One 
 glance when they met again — one single glance into the 
 countenance of Mr. Frere — set her at rest as to the con- 
 sequences of her indiscretion. She saw in that clear 
 index of his mind, that what had wounded her so deeply 
 had passed out of his thoughts, probably with the 
 termination of the insulting stanza. But though she 
 ]3reathed on that account with more freedom, his very 
 indifference — his utter ol)livion to the circumstance 
 which had alarmed and irritated her — what was it but 
 a plain declaration that the Phebe of real life, his "little 
 friend," his " amusing little Phebe," was in very truth 
 a thing of as slight concern to him, as the shepherdess 
 of an old ballad ? 
 
A LECTURE ON LOVE. 269 
 
 CHAPTER XYIIL 
 
 • A LECTUEE ON LOTE, 
 
 Leaving the .little Divet to the uncertainty that is 
 secretly tormenting her, we will learn from Frere him- 
 self to what extent her hopes or fears were justified by 
 the sentiments he actually entertained towards her. It 
 was not very long after this unlucky quotation, as he sat 
 enshrined within the Chinese screen, and Phehe, sitting at 
 his feet, was mending a minute hole in one of his gloves, 
 that he thus referred to her in a letter to his friend the 
 young rector. 
 
 The despatch began with matters quite irrelevant to 
 Phebe, and it was not until these were fully and suffi- 
 ciently discussed and done with, that he adverted to her 
 at all ; and, giving the extract as it quietly flowed from 
 Mr. Frere's pen, we leave it to the reader to determine 
 how far the industrious little glove-mender would have 
 been satisfied with a sight of that voluminous epistle to 
 the Eev. Richard Cranston. 
 
 " I verily believe I should have been out of England 
 before now, for I was growing very weary of my way of 
 life here, if it had not been for a recent addition to the 
 family party. I like all the good people at Etheridge, 
 it would be highly ungrateful if I did not ; but my sight 
 
270 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 craves variety, I find the same faces constantly before 
 me bring back old trains of ideas — and these, too, none 
 of the happiest ; in a word, I was growing stupified, and, 
 spite of Divet's professional desire to settle my affairs, 
 and the leases of ^ those houses in Pimlico,' 1 should 
 have been off to a certainty. But there is nothing like 
 an infusion of young blood for restoring life and anima- 
 tion to a worn-out system ; and I never was made more 
 sensible of that fact than by the introduction of a fresh 
 member of the family here, David Divet's youngest 
 daughter. I hardly knew there luas a younger daughter 
 in the case till one day she came unawares upon me, 
 adding a sort of surprise to her many good gifts. The 
 house (except by me) can never I believe be reckoned 
 dull. I observe an air of intelligent cheerfulness con- 
 stantly pervading it ; yet it is surprising how much the ^ 
 general liveliness has been increased since this httle girl 
 came amongst us. Pleasant looks expand more readily 
 into smiles, smiles into laughter ; every face seems to 
 brighten and improve under the spell of her genial in- 
 fluence — always excepting that of her very disagreeable 
 brother-in-law, whose nature is indeed most thoroughly 
 opposed to hers, and my aversion to him daily increases, 
 as I see how he scowls upon his sweet litle sister. 
 
 " It is ten to one that, when grown people set themselves 
 formally to the task (a heavy one I know it to be) of 
 conversing with me, their well-meant endeavours result, 
 as far as I am concerned, in an additional pang of hu- 
 miliation — their laboured attentions cause my defects to 
 stand out more prominently than ever; and, seeing the 
 
A LECTURE ON LOVE. 271 
 
 stress tliey lay on my misfortunes^ I fall to thinking of 
 tliem too, when I would give the world to throw off the 
 impression, and persuade myself I am not, after all, so 
 different — so very different from other people. This 
 awkward emotion, made up of pride, ingratitude, and a 
 hundred other unholy whisperings, is seldom excited by 
 the voluntary, untutored sympathy of the young, espe- 
 cially when I am holding converse with a natural crea- 
 ture such as Phebe Divet. She is too fresh, too artless, 
 and I may add too wayward, to act from any thing but 
 impulse. Her sympathies are all innate, self-springing 
 frankly tendered ; and the light-hearted girl throws 
 a charm around my solitary musings, which I shall miss 
 when I leave her father's hospitable house. Like Moth, 
 Mustard-seed, and their brethren, she ' hops in my paths, 
 and gambols in my sight ; ' and, while I am thinking of 
 any thing but her, I find her at my elbow, or crouching 
 almost at my feet, looking up into my face with her 
 little black eyes, that have always a sort of saucy expres- 
 sion in the midst of their kindness. And truly kind she 
 is ! No one who was not thoroughly amiable could take 
 so much trouble for such an object. She would, if I 
 would suffer it, waste hours in playing chess with me, 
 pretending a great desire for instruction, though the 
 kind deceit is easily discovered by her talking much 
 faster than she plays. Then she insists on speaking 
 with her fingers — I had a foolish prejudice against it, 
 having, when I was a boy, been taken to see the pupils at 
 the Deaf and Dumb Asylum (a grade lower in their con- 
 dition than what I am become) go through their inge- 
 
272 THE XnHEE CHANCES. 
 
 nious exercises. Happy and contented as they appeared. 
 I had been any thing but easy daring their exhibition — 
 oppressed with what I could now imagine to have been 
 some dim anticipation of my future fate. So I had felt 
 shy of this finger language, though unable to deny its 
 utility as a mode of communication ; but Phebe, with a 
 gentle importunity (for which I have since felt truly 
 obHged), soon overcame my unreasonable aversion ; and, 
 as she executes her part in the intercourse with remark- 
 able facility, I find it the pleasantest method of conversing 
 that has yet been devised. Nevertheless, time wears on, 
 and ennui will still be spreading his lead-coloured mantle 
 over me oftener than I could wish. Little Phebe cannot 
 be always talking to me, or I be always in the humour to 
 be talked to ; I must go elsewhere, were it only to gather 
 something of novelty for my letters to you ; for long ago, 
 my dear Cranston, you must have been heartily sick of 
 Etheridge, its ways and its vicinity. I intend Venice to 
 be my next resting-place ; my first visit to it was but 
 cursory, and I have much to examine there. As a sub- 
 ject for the pen it is hackneyed enough, but at least will 
 be better for my faithful correspondent than a prosaic 
 country town in old England, though there was a time 
 when perhaps I might have turned even such a theme 
 to some account. 
 
 "Accustomed as I have now grown to this finger- 
 language, in which I hold such glib converse with my 
 little Phebe, I am struck with a foolish surprise when I 
 see two persons communicating wholly by means of their 
 lips. Even as I write, there go Colonel Hussey and his 
 
A LECTURE ON LOVE. 273 
 
 handsome mistress sauntering along the terrace before 
 my windows — why the good folks here call it a terrace, 
 by the by, it would be hard to say ; but it is a dry and 
 sunny length of gravel, and doubtless answers the pur- 
 pose of the lovers as completely as a daintier locality ; 
 blest with the feelings that now possess them, it may be 
 tliat the finest garden that Nature and Art together ever 
 formed would not seem pleasanter in their eyes. 
 
 " Cranston, tell me, if you know, and seek for a reason if 
 you have not one ready to your hand — why it is that lovers 
 should invariably look stupid, and love-making appear to 
 a spectator so dull and heavy a proceeding ? Why 
 should that passion, which is acknowledged to be the 
 most intense, ethereal, and vivifying of all that animates 
 humanity — before which the lust of power, or fame, or 
 even gold itself, gives way — which has inspired some of 
 the highest virtues, and caused more than half the 
 wickedness of the earth — why should its evidences, dis- 
 played in countenance, manners, and conversation, be 
 such as to confer universal contempt instead of honour 
 upon its votaries ? I put the question not so much in 
 the profane spirit of ridicule, as in a modest search after 
 truth. The friend you have desired for a life-loQg 
 associate, the acquaintance from whom you have derived 
 so much amusement, no sooner do they contemplate 
 marriage — that most natural and satisfactory of human 
 alliances — than they make themselves, in some way or 
 other, insufferable to you and every other thinking 
 creature ; and Christian charity itself can grant them 
 only the same sort of indulgence which is shewn to a 
 
 VOL. L J 
 
274 THE THKEE CHAXCES. 
 
 drunken man by liis boon companions — he is held to be, 
 to all intents and purposes, a madman for the time being, 
 and as such irresponsible. No doubt, from all we see 
 and know, and perhaps feel, a man is never entirely 
 sane when he has a woman in his head. I am far from 
 quarrelling with him on that account : it is not the 
 insanity, but the way in which he manifests it, that I 
 would have amended. If the disease shewed itself in an 
 honest, unequivocal effervescence — a something of the 
 extra-frisky and strait-waistcoat kind — an inclination we 
 will say to climb lamp-posts, and vault over five-barred 
 gates, to smile upon his enemies, and give sixpence to a 
 beggar where once he would have contented himself with 
 a penny, or the half of that — such doings would be com- 
 prehended easily, and as easily excused. I can sympathize 
 with many a wild escapade, the overflowing of a gay 
 spirit which, seeing before him what the poor fool 
 believes to be a life-long felicity, endures no bound to his 
 soul-pervading joy. But when, instead of these pardon- 
 able freaks, I see a being, inspired by this noblest of 
 passions, creeping and crawling by the apron-string of 
 his beloved — his face ten times more stupid than usual, 
 his talk twenty times as dull, a silly simper, or a dis- 
 gusting leer being now his nearest approach to vivacity — 
 how is it possible to preserve respect for the lover, or the 
 sentiment which has metamorphosed him ? or help 
 wondering what there can he in the companionship of an 
 agreeable woman to make a man of ordinary capacity 
 look like an ass, and act like an idiot ? 
 
 "I have wandered into a wide digression from the 
 
A LECTURE ON LOVE. 275 
 
 Colonel, wlio, by the by, gives me a notion of being a sort 
 of person who never in his whole life was guilty of di- 
 gressing or transgressing either ; so that, though the sight 
 of him certainly originated this philippic against the 
 lovelorn fraternity, I doubt whether he comes under the 
 common reproach. He is by no means past middle age ; 
 yet there is a composure and sobriety in his whole deport- 
 ment that would be sadly disarranged by any rapturous 
 or frisky demonstrations — indeed, in his case, they are not 
 wanted to convince us how happy he is in his rational 
 and honest affection. We have only to look in the face 
 of the ojood man, to be assured that his love — steadv and 
 disinterested in itself — is perfectly reciprocated. So, for 
 the sake of consistency, I absolve the Colonel from any 
 necessity for monkey-tricks; for I am sure his calm- 
 natured, sensible betrothed would never abide them. 
 
 Seldom have I seen a couple more completely matched : 
 their statures, gait, and measured movements all coin- 
 cide ; and the firmest believer in Shakspere must allow, ' 
 that the course of their true love is running unimpeded 
 to the great ocean of wedlock — some people might term 
 it the Dead Sea. From a certain look of high-minded 
 abstraction, which I occasionally notice in this lady, I 
 fancy her something of a devotee — not of the Calvinistic 
 school, however ; for it would have amused you to see the 
 magnificent scorn with which she turned over the leaves 
 of a tract which a methodistical old lady, related to the 
 Divets, contrived to shuffle in amongst the papers on my 
 table (with a zeal which, even her favourite pastor must 
 have allowed, had some lack of discretion in its mani- 
 
276 THE THKEE CHANCES. 
 
 festation) ; for whether she thinks that tracts are all per- 
 fect in form and composition, and therefore no choice 
 can be requisite in their selection, or simply mistook 
 the thing altogether, remains doubtful ; but certain it is 
 that the penny pamphlet, on which fell my bemldered 
 eye when I was looking for something very different, was 
 headed, ^Address to a young woman on her entrance 
 into the allurements of life.' I smiled as it caught my 
 €ye, but Miss Palliser's frown was of such a sort, that 
 I told her she looked worthy to encounter, single-handed, 
 Mr. Butterfield and his whole congregation. And then 
 her countenance, which is really very fine, was suddenly 
 overspread with such a blush, and a smile so shy and 
 gentle, that, on my honour, Dick, I began to think 
 Colonel Hussey a more enviable person than I had yet 
 supposed him. 
 
 " But I must have done, lest you should take to exor- 
 cising the loquacious spirit that will be talking of 
 nothing but the ladies. My next letter will most pro- 
 bably be dated London, where I earnestly hope you will 
 be able to meet me. The pang it will cause me to see 
 you, you cannot imagine ; but I find it impossible to 
 leave the country without incurring both the. pain and 
 the pleasure of such a meeting — so, if you are prevented 
 from coming to me, why in that case the mountain must 
 go to Mahomet.'' 
 
 Thus wrote the Divets' deaf guest, pouring into the 
 breast of one, whose unfailing sympathy and fervent 
 regard neither time nor absence could wear away, the 
 feelings of his susceptible nature, and all those lighter 
 
AT FAULT. 277 
 
 fancies which would still be springing from the varieties 
 (apparently trivial) of his e very-day life, and which he 
 never dreamed of submitting to any human eyes save 
 those of Kichard Cranston. And it was in this tranquil 
 and unconscious way that Mr. Frere contemplated a move- 
 ment which was destined to quench the brightest hopes 
 of the kind family who were entertaining him so hospi- 
 tably. For, allowing that Miss Divet had confessed to 
 herself some secret misgivings, her family, satisfied with 
 the smooth surface presented to their view, were con- 
 tented to receive mere friendship and familiarity as 
 evidences of a much warmer sentiment ; so that, when 
 Frere addressed himself one morning to Mr, Divet in 
 a rather more formal and business-like manner than 
 usual, that gentleman had not a doubt but that he was 
 going to propose for the hand of his youngest daughter. 
 Consequently the look, or rather stare, of bewilderment 
 and utter discomfiture with which he heard the deaf 
 guest announce his departure the following week — the 
 day, the very hour fixed — David's confusion, we repeat, 
 was so evident, that Mr. Frere felt quite concerned for 
 the vexation he was giving rise to ; for it instantly 
 occurred to him, if Divet were thus moved by the 
 intelligence of his departure, what must be its effect 
 upon the ladies ? 
 
 Recovering as well as he was able from a shock so 
 unexpected, David made the sort of gesticulation that 
 he thought the occasion demanded, and got off" to 
 communicate the discomfortable news to his father and 
 daughter. It happened to be the hour of the forenoon 
 
278 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 at which it was the time-honoured custom of old Jesse's 
 descendants to assemble themselves in his sitting-room, 
 there to inquire after his health, and discuss all the 
 topics — national, local, or domestic — that might be 
 occupying their attention at the time. 
 
 And a pleasant half hour it generally proved to be, and 
 very unlike those stated visits to the elders of a house 
 which so often, through the disagreeable qualities of the 
 aged, or the failings of the young, or, perhaps, merely 
 because such attentions are fixed and stated, become cere- 
 monies full of constraint and formality. Far otherwise 
 was it at Etheridge House, where, in the chambers of the 
 oldest inhabitant, the juniors of the mansion ever reckoned 
 on the shrewdest counsel — the readiest sympathy — and 
 the keenest appreciation of a joke. 
 
 This morning the convocation was fuller than usual. 
 Colonel Hussey being there in addition to the family ; 
 besides that, in consideration to his feelings, and opposi- 
 tion to her own, Miss Palliser had forced herself to 
 shew the same mark of civility to the old man, whom 
 she usually did her utmost to avoid, and now sat 
 listening to his remarks as they fell — half good-humoured, 
 half-cynical — from his withered lips, with her charac- 
 teristic coldness and suspicion. 
 
 To them entered David, his countenance, his gesture, 
 (qo triumphant rubbing of the hands or jingling of the 
 halfpence now !) the very hang of his coat, and drooping 
 of his shirt-collar, seeming to accommodate themselves 
 to the vexation which filled his soul. 
 
 And now it was plain to mark the different reputa- 
 
THE COLONEL AND THE FAlillLY COACH. 279 
 
 tions which attend on successful or unsuccessful knavery. 
 The Colonel, who had nearly gone the length of bluster- 
 ins: in defence of his relations when his hiorh-minded 
 Maria had cast a censure on their conduct, was himself 
 struck with the altered aspect which they and their 
 affairs had suddenly assumed. As long as their chariot- 
 wheels had seemed to be moving prosperously, and at 
 railway pace, the good Colonel had been well content to 
 occupy a seat in the family coach, and join them in 
 extolling the pretty prospects that were opening to their 
 view, and anticipating the satisfactory termination of 
 their journey. 
 
 In language less metaphorical, he had observed 
 nothing but what was natural and proper in all that 
 was going forward — had moralized complacently with 
 Kezia, had subscribed to the outpourings of Divet's 
 paternal exultation, and had had his joke with the 
 Patriarch about Phebe's likelihood of going to court, 
 and being made a fine lady for life. 
 
 But now, when he contemplated that family group 
 under circumstances so greatly altered — the grace of 
 fancied success no longer resting on them, and clothing 
 each one as it were with a goodly garment — their 
 tempers, once so gay and easy, now ruffled by unexpected 
 disappointment — justifying themselves — accusing each 
 other — cavilling, recriminating — he wondered how he 
 could ever have afforded his own respectable sanction 
 to the schemes they had been carrying on. 
 
 Nothing more grand than the flash and the roar, the 
 destruction and triumph of gunpowder, when once the 
 
280 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 match has taken effect, and the train ignited to an end, 
 but lying in its barrel, without a chance of explosion, 
 what is it but the dullest and dingiest of minerals ? 
 Let us consider for a moment what a magnificent affair 
 the Gunpowder Plot would have been if it had only 
 succeeded I Many a man of average virtue would have 
 shouted and yelled on the side of the victors when in their 
 pride of power, who would have cowered to the earth 
 before the finger that pointed him out as an accessory to 
 the grand attempt, when nothing was left of it but dis- 
 appointment, and dread, and the certainty of a halter — 
 and when the sublime of wickedness was to be represented 
 only by a bundle of dry sticks and a dark lantern ! 
 
 In this sudden revulsion of Colonel Hussey's feelings, 
 it even seemed to him that the venerable grandsire him- 
 self shewed to less advantage than ordinary, as he sat, 
 masking his own vexation, under the jeering tone in 
 which he loved to animadvert on passing events. 
 
 The scene altogether became so repugnant to the 
 Colonel, that he was glad to escape from it, and confide 
 a portion of his altered sentiments to her whose freedom 
 from every thing low or worldly seemed, by the contrast, 
 to be doubly and trebly estimable. 
 
 ** I believe you were right, Maria," said he. " There is 
 something not quite so delicate as it should be in the 
 proceedings of our friends here ; and I am afraid they 
 have laid themselves open to some ridicule, if not 
 positive censure. But they have brought the mischief 
 on themselves, and must get out of the scrape as they 
 best may ;" and the good Colonel accompanied his recan- 
 
THE COLONEL AND THE FAMILY COACH. 281 
 
 tation with that sort of shrug, compassionate and yet 
 contemptuous, with which we are apt to remark on the 
 merited mortifications of another. " And ah, Maria ! " 
 he added affectionately, as he patted the white hand he 
 was so soon to call his own, " what a fortunate man I am, 
 that, when I find myself fretted and discomposed by the 
 conduct of even my best friends, I have yoiL to turn to — 
 you in whom I am never disappointed — always sincere ! 
 always consistent, all goodness, and all truth ! My 
 happiness makes a selfish being of me ; for, while certain 
 of your attachment, I cannot — upon my soul I really 
 cannot — care for any thing that occurs elsewhere — I can't 
 indeed, my love ! But there you are again, shrinking as 
 usual from the sound of your own praises." 
 
 " Ah ! if you did but know how unmerited they are ! " 
 she answered, a spasm of remorse crossing her fine 
 features : the emotion indeed was so powerful that her 
 lips had opened to make some startling disclosure — not 
 of her love for another, but of her indifference to himself 
 — such as must have sufficed to separate them for ever ; 
 when the same look of trustful love which had conquered 
 her resolution once before, again asserted its power over 
 her. Seeing how his kind nature was bound up in her, 
 and what pride and pleasure he took in her supposed 
 excellence, she could not find the moral courage 
 required to free herself and make him miserable. Thus 
 the opportunity passed away ; whether for good or evil, 
 time was to discover. 
 
 Great as w^as undeniably the disappointment of the 
 Divets, they were'too politic to suffer it to be publicly 
 
2S2 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 displayed when the first ebullition of their vexation had 
 subsided. Besides that in the hearts of the ladies — that 
 of Kezia at least — there existed still a hope that things 
 were not utterly desperate. She felt strong in the pos- 
 session of means, apparently slight, but in fact essential, 
 tlirough which, as she believed, Mr. Frere might be de- 
 tained amongst them considerably longer than he pro- 
 posed ; and with his kindly feeling towards them all, and 
 undoubted pleasure in Phebe's society, much might yet 
 be accomplished in rendering his stay available for the 
 grand purpose for which he had been originally invited 
 to Etheridge. So, with admirable resolution, Mrs. George 
 cleared her own brow, and tried to inspire a more san- 
 guine spirit in the other members of the conspiracy ; to 
 keep Phebe from looking cross before Frere, when the 
 failure of her declared designs upon him was made the 
 subject of her brother-in-law's sneers or the rough joking 
 of cousin Sally ; and (though this was a matter still more 
 hard to be effected) she strove to reanimate the hopes of 
 her crestfallen father, ever " too soon dejected, and too 
 soon elate." 
 
 Then, about this time, Mrs. Barclay might be seen 
 occasionally (though seldom by Mr. Frere) in rather 
 close consultation with his man : his factotum, his Figaro, 
 Druce. When first the Divets placed this man about 
 his person, Frere had been very little prepossessed in his 
 favour — acknowledged his abilities, but liked not the ex- 
 pression of his face ; and even resoh^ed on getting rid of 
 him, as soon as an opportunity presented itself of doing 
 so without affronting those who had procured him so 
 
PKEPAKATORY ARRANGEMENTS. 283 
 
 excellent a servant. But as time wore on he got used 
 to what at first annoyed him; this.person proving himself 
 indeed so thoroughly versed in all that constitutes a valet 
 of first-rate qualities, that his prejudices were latterly 
 overcome. For prejudices Mr. Manley allowed them to 
 be, and even condescended to account for and excuse 
 them, by discovering that Druce had a slight cast in the 
 eye which gave the poor fellow " a sinister expression, 
 most foreign to his real character." 
 
 When, with his usual openness, Frere confessed to Mrs. 
 George his original dislike and subsequent approval of 
 his body-guard, that lady listened to the frank admission 
 with her smile of ready and earnest comprehension — that 
 look so acceptable to one deprived of hearing, that it 
 alone was enough to make him love the face in which it 
 dwelled ; and then away went Kezia's pencil, creaking 
 along the little slate, to assure " good Mr. Manley'' how 
 truly her secret sympathies went with him in this respect. 
 " I was confident you would not like him," said she ; " for 
 it was just my own case when first I saw poor Druce. 
 You can't think the positively wicked antipathy I took 
 to the honest creature/' 
 
 " Nay, nay! " he answered her smiling. " I was not 
 quite so intolerant. But surely nature is unkind when 
 she puts such eyes as those in the head of a well-disposed 
 serving-man ;" and then he joined Kezia in extolling the 
 usefulness of this man, congratulating himself on his 
 possessing such a knowledge of French as would qualify 
 hira admirably for a travelling servant. Frere added, 
 " His only apprehension was that Druce would reverse the 
 
284 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 common fault of negligence, and be unnecessarily precise 
 in his arrangements — at least in all that related to his 
 master's supposed comfort. It had been his wish to 
 leave England before that month was out ; but Druce 
 had almost insisted that there were certain portmanteaus, 
 and tilings quite indispensable to such expeditions ; 
 though he himself knew he could do very well without 
 them, and, if he waited till the orders were executed, he 
 must be detained much longer than he intended/' 
 
 Nobody would have guessed the dissatisfaction con- 
 veyed in these words of Frere, if they had seen the un- 
 troubled countenance with which Kezia received them, 
 counselling her deaf friend (with a graceful apology for 
 the liberty she was assuming) on no account to suffer 
 himself to be governed by a domestic — not even by a 
 Druce ; " and, grieved as we shall be to lose our dear Mr. 
 Manley," she glibly wrote, " yet, sympathizing in your 
 natural desire for change of scene, you may rely on our 
 doing our very utmost to forward your departure. Still " 
 (imploringly), " you must not leave us sooner than you 
 can help. You do not know, nor, with your modest es- 
 timation of yourself, is it possible you should ever know, 
 how very, very much you will be missed in this house." 
 
 He answered her only with a melancholy smile and a 
 shake of the head. Ever since the desertion of his first 
 and only love had so deeply mortified him, any thing 
 like direct praise had appeared to Mr. Frere as little else 
 than the bitterest sarcasm ; and in this instance, nothinir 
 but his thorough belief in the sincerity of his hostess 
 prevented it from being less disgusting to him than 
 
PREPARATORY ARRANGEMENTS. 285 
 
 usual. "Those excellent Divets !" Yes, he reallj did 
 think they would be sorry to part with him. 
 
 Before Colonel Hussey took leave after this last flying 
 visit to his beloved, the day of his wedding (which, as 
 the bride had no home amongst her own relations, the 
 Divets insisted should take place at Etheridge) was 
 finally fixed. That day fortnight the Colonel's felicity 
 was to be secured in the possession of his " sincere," his 
 "warm-hearted," his "faithful Maria;" and the Divets' 
 good-natured and hospitable propensities were honour- 
 ably displayed by the trouble and expense they incurred, 
 and that with the cheerfullest alacrity, to shew kindness 
 to their kinsman, and due attention to the lady whom a 
 doubtful fate had assigned him. 
 
 With an insight into the feelings of the deaf guest, 
 which did credit to her penetration and tact, Mrs. 
 Barclay hesitated to follow the hint of her less sagacious 
 father, who counselled her to make this wedding a plea 
 for persuading Frere to prolong his stay at Etheridge, 
 quoting the common saying, that such things were apt to 
 prove infectious ; while his daughter, with far more 
 delicacy of perception, doubted whether Frere's known 
 reluctance to mixing amongst strangers, would be 
 lessened by the purpose which was bringing this numerous 
 assembly under their roof ; the nature of the approach- 
 ing festivity reminding him, as it might and must, of so 
 much that he was longing to bury in eternal oblivion. 
 
 What feeling predominated with Maria Palliser while 
 this question was being argued in her hearing, it is hard 
 to say ; or whether she sufi'ered most from the hopeless 
 
286 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 sinking of the heart with which she anticipated losing 
 Frere for ever and ever from her sight — or from the 
 tumultuous quickening of every j)ulse, which came upon 
 her as she thought of his calm eyes being fixed upon her 
 at the very moment she was perjuring herself at the altar. 
 She was tempted to make it a particular request that 
 he should not be urged to remain on this account, but 
 had no plausible reason to give for interfering in arrange- 
 ments which, up to this time, she had passively sufiPered 
 the Divets to manage as they chose. To the Colonel, 
 indeed, she ventured a murmur of dissent. " Surely the 
 fewer the better !" but sociable himself, and highly 
 gratified with the handsome preparations his cousins 
 were making to do honour to him and his bride, the 
 happy lover only praised his Maria's retiring modesty, and 
 insisted on his part that one spectator more or less could 
 make but little difference even to the most bashful bride. 
 " Particularly," he added, '4n this instance, when that 
 additional guest was to be such a mere cipher as poor 
 Manley Frere;" and besides, he persisted (and Miss 
 Palliser could not gainsay what was so obviously just), it 
 would be hardly fair to the friends who were interesting 
 themselves so warmly in their behalf, if they were to be 
 cavilling at any small matter in their arrangements. ^' I 
 know," the Colonel said, a little mortification perceptible 
 in his gentle manner — " I know that your feelings 
 towards the Divets are not quite as cordial as I could 
 desire — for indeed, my love, these good cousins of mine 
 have a host of virtues to counterbalance a very few 
 foibles : it is the only instance in which I ha^'e yet dis- 
 
PREPARATORY ARRANGEMENTS. 287 
 
 covered my dear Maria to be a little unjust — but I am 
 sure her generous disposition must be touched by their 
 present behaviour." 
 
 Feeling for her lover the very gratitude he would fain 
 have inspired towards his relations, Miss Palliser forced 
 herself to smooth down the wrinkles on her forehead, and 
 distend her well-cut lips with such a smile as a January 
 sun diffuses over a fine extent of country ; but it satisfied 
 the confiding Colonelj and encouraged him to proceed 
 a little further with this topic. 
 
 " They insist on doing every thing themselves, and 
 will not even suffer me to send in champagne for the 
 breakfast. And the cake, I suppose you know, is a 
 present specially to your fair self from old Mr. Divet." 
 Miss Palliser tried to seem grateful ; and then Colonel 
 Hussey, lowering his voice a little, added, " But the 
 Patriarch is to do me a still greater service, Maria — can 
 you not guess what it is ? He has volunteered to stand 
 father at our wedding, my love, and give you to me with 
 his own venerable hand ! " 
 
 She turned her sorrowful, almost indignant, eyes 
 upon him — " He stand in the place of 7ny poor father ! 
 — oh, surely that need not be ! " 
 
 " No — but it is very flattering. At least, Maria, it 
 gratifies me that my old friend should exert himself to 
 do me this kindness — the greatest, as / regard it, that 
 man can confer upon me ! '* 
 
 Miss Palliser would not check the Coloners satisfac- 
 tion by exhibiting further disgust at this his pet piece 
 of news, and he went on chatting in such a pleased, con- 
 
288 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 tented strain, that Mrs. Sarah, who was within hearing 
 of the lovers, was led to inquire what was become of 
 the blue devils he was complaining of so lately ? '• Eh, 
 Master Benjamin, what's come of the indigestion 
 that was to send you tramping to the other world, bag 
 and baggage ? " 
 
 " Cured, cousin Sally ! " he answered with the happiest 
 smile in the world. " The sight of this dear girl has 
 done more for me than all the medicines I have swallow- 
 ed for the last six months." 
 
 " Ha, I said it was all humbug ! " said the old lady, 
 continuing her walk, or rather shuffle, up and down the 
 room. "Half a pint of camomile tea is worth the 
 whole mess of it ! " and she looked with great contempt 
 at the little phial which the Colonel had produced from 
 l.is waistcoat pocket, and which, being nearly full, he 
 was exhibiting triumphantly as a proof of his sudden 
 amendment. 
 
 " If I had been at Woolwich instead of my present 
 quarters, this bottle would have been nearly finished ; 
 and, look — I have almost forgotten to take a dose since 
 I have been here." 
 
 " Oh, be hanged to it ! Give it your sweetheart, and 
 let her pop it out of the window for you." 
 
 " Yes," said Maria, offering to take the phial, " I will 
 keep it for you, and, whenever you ask me for it again, 
 I shall know that my influence over you is at an end." 
 
 " Agreed," replied the Colonel, delivering the medicine 
 into her hands, and answering her sweet but melancholy 
 smile with a look of fond assurance. " Depend on it, my 
 
DOCTOR CUPID. 289 
 
 love, if that is to be the compact, the pledge will remain 
 with you as long as I am a living man/' At the same 
 time, he continued less sentimentally, " Though you are 
 welcome to keep the phial as a memento of the victory 
 of Venus over Galen, it may not be amiss to take 
 cousin Sally's advice, and empty it of its contents ; for 
 the chief ingredient of the prescription being prussic 
 acid — Look, cousin " — he said, interrupting himself with 
 a smile — " Look how wide Maria opens her eyes at those 
 two little innocent words ! " 
 
 " Humph ! " said the other ; " it's only because she 
 finds you are more of a gander than she supposed you. 
 Lord ! to think of a sensible, middle-aged man like you, 
 Ben Hussey, going about his business with a bottle of 
 stuff in his pocket that would poison a horse ! " and the 
 old lady, as she stumped up and down the room (a 
 favourite mode with her of taking exercise), kept rallying 
 Colonel Hussey in her rough way ; while Miss Palliser 
 stood holding the little phial up to the light, and gazing 
 curiously upon it, as Eve might have looked upon the 
 apple when first her attention was directed toward the 
 thing that had the power to make her wise : the rich 
 colour which had flushed her cheek when the Colonel 
 declared the nature of its contents, still lingering there, 
 and causing her to look so particularly handsome, that 
 he — fond man ! — could not forbear making her a little 
 compliment thereupon. But in the very midst of his 
 gallantry she stopped him to ask, " How many drops of 
 that clear, deceitful liquid he was in the habit of taking 
 at once — twenty ? " " My dear Maria ! " was the answer, 
 
 VOL. L u 
 
290 THE THKEE CHAXCES. 
 
 ^' why, twenty drops would knock down a troop of horse, 
 let alone a simple Colonel of artillery ! No, six is the 
 utmost I ever venture to take ; and, spite of cousin 
 Sally's disapprobation, I must say that, in the absence 
 of a better specific, it has done me more good than any 
 thing I ever tried. So you need not be apprehensive 
 (powerful as it is) that I am in any danger from taking it. 
 Ah, cousin Sally ! I may think myself a lucky fellow 
 to have a dear, good girl like this taking such interest in 
 me and my physicking." 
 
 "" Yes, that's all very fine, Master Ben," was the old 
 lady's astute rejoinder ; " but you'd better not give her too 
 much trouble with looking after you and your doctor's 
 stuff, for if you take to quacking yourselves, or each 
 other, it will be the worse for you both in the end, I pro- 
 mise you that." 
 
 ^* Never fear, never fear ! " he replied cheerfully ; " we 
 know what we are about, don't we, Maria ? " But she 
 made him no reply. 
 
AU REVOIR ! 291'" 
 
 CHAPTEK XIX. 
 
 AU REVOIR ! 
 
 Not long after tlie dialogue here detailed, Colonel 
 Hussey took a temporary leave of Etlieridge : the last 
 departure before his final return to claim the hand of his 
 betrothed. He went happy in the delusion which per- 
 suaded him of her firm attachment, and led him to 
 interpret the passive composure of hopeless resignation, 
 into the feelings of a delicate and reflecting woman 
 contemplating the new life she was about to enter upon, 
 in the serious strain which, to him, seemed both natural 
 and becoming. Happy man ! we must again repeat — 
 and most blessed state to be in ; when nothing came 
 amiss to him, whether it might be the sly jokes of the 
 Divets (adepts always in the sort of raillery supposed to 
 be allowable to persons in his predicament), or the 
 abstracted looks of the bride-elect ; all seeming right and 
 pleasant in the sight of the good but deluded Colonel. 
 
 A very few weeks had intervened since Maria Palliser 
 was standing on the upper step 'of that broad, long 
 flight, which, after a somewhat antiquated fashion occa- 
 sionally to be observed amongst the older and more 
 respectable mansions in our country towns, gave access 
 
292 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 to Etheridge House. A great change had been wrought 
 in her during the shght interval ; yet, so well had she 
 guarded her secret, that none within that house or out 
 of it, with the exception of the one trusted correspondent, 
 had the least suspicion of the metamorphosis. Dis- 
 creditable as it must be reckoned to the penetration of 
 the family amongst whom she sojourned, it was a fact 
 that the keen-eyed Patriarch and his intelligent de- 
 scendants were just as widely in error with regard to 
 this fair member of their household, and their supposi- 
 tions followed precisely the same common track as those 
 of old Tufnell the head grocer of Etheridge, who, stand- 
 ing at his shop-door opposite, surveyed the present parting 
 as in no respect dissimilar to that which had come under 
 his observation on a former occasion ; or, if conclusions 
 » might be drawn from the scene before him, Miss Palliser's 
 demeanour must have argued an increase rather than 
 a diminution of esteem for the departing Colonel since 
 last he took his leave. 
 
 For whereas, at the previous separation, the lady, 
 having seen her lover's carriage in motion, had retreated 
 with her accustomed step into the house, and had 
 allowed the door to be shut upon the vehicle while it 
 was yet jogging the length of the High Street, she 
 now stood gazing after it — intently — earnestly, as it 
 seemed to honest old Tufnell ; and, even when it had 
 disappeared from view, her graceful form and fine eyes 
 maintained their position, and still she lingered on the 
 Divets' door-step. What beholder, then, ever so obtuse 
 of fancy, but must have held it for a fact indisputable, 
 
AU RE VOIR ! 293. 
 
 that those wistful eyes were reproaching the gods for 
 snatching away her heart's best treasure ? and that, so 
 long as her fond and foolish ear might distinguish the 
 sound of his chariot- wheels, she could not tear herself 
 from the spot ? 
 
 Utterly unconscious was Maria of the notice she was 
 attracting amongst the Etheridge gossipred, though 
 Tufnell was far from being sole spectator of the tender 
 scene; though Mr. Jones's young and rakish assistant 
 had his bold eyes fixed full upon her as he tripped past 
 on some early errand, and Miss Dance the milliner and 
 her old bachelor lodger were employed in precisely like 
 manner : the former finishing her last morsel of break- 
 fast as she looked over the blind of her little parlour, 
 the latter, razor in hand (for he was in the very act of 
 shaving), and still mindful of decorum, presenting the 
 unlathered half of his chin to public view, as he peered 
 from the folds of his window-curtain. 
 
 Miss Palliser saw nothing of all this ; nor, supposing 
 she had, would it much have disturbed her; for the 
 town and its dependencies was to her supercilious regard 
 but a type of the human family so commonly distasteful^ 
 to her ; so she turned into the house without bestowing 
 a thought upon her audience. 
 
 A letter which the postman had that moment 
 delivered was put into her hand ; but even the lucubra- 
 tions of her faithful friend Lucy Ainsworth would have 
 failed to lead her back out of the maze of speculation, or 
 whatever it might be called, that had kept her as a mark 
 for the curious of the vicinity, if the contents of the 
 
:294 THE THKEE CHANCES. 
 
 epistle had not happened to treat of the very things that 
 absorbed her. It was written in answer to that in which 
 Maria had not only confessed, but striven to justify, her 
 predilection for the Divets' deaf guest. Openly proclaim- 
 ing her intention of cherishing his remembrance even 
 after her union with another, and asserting with a sort 
 of reckless boast and a self-reliance utterly shocking to 
 her right-minded cousin, that but for this solace of doat- 
 ing in memory on the last image of Frere, a life spent 
 in the society of Colonel Hussey would be unendurable 
 to her. 
 
 In Miss Ainsworth's haste to comment on this 
 unholy confession, there was more than mere solicitude 
 for an erring friend ; for it struck her that some unwary 
 expression of her own must have encouraged Maria thus 
 to overleap all the boundaries of ordinary decency. She 
 had been too tender — too punctilious in her occasional 
 strictures on her cousin s questionable sentiments ; or, 
 intimate as they were, she could never have dared to put 
 forth opinions so opposed to all ordinary rules of conduct 
 — to every maxim of religion and morality. Miss 
 Ainsworth had long lamented the unsettled state of 
 mind which so frequently displayed itself in the tone of 
 her cousin s correspondence, but had trusted that though 
 her faith was wavering, her principles of virtue, of com- 
 mon integrity at least, were firmly grounded ; and that, 
 although Maria's married life might be miserable, it 
 would still be innocent ; but now, alas ! after professing 
 such an unblushing liberty of thought, how could even 
 -this be relied on ? So, following what she conceived to 
 
WELL MEANT, BUT ILL RECEIVED. 295 
 
 be a sacred duty, the startled confidante, in terms the 
 most impressive she could devise, laid before her unhappy- 
 friend the fearful results to be apprehended from senti- 
 ments so lawless, and sophistry so weak. For Lucy 
 refused to believe that an imas:mation thus uro-ed and 
 stimulated in the way of transgression, could long con- 
 tent itself with dwelling only on the memory of the past. 
 This projected course of falsehood, this voluptuous 
 cherishing of forbidden thoughts, what could it lead to 
 but the gradual undermining of the plainest principles 
 of duty to her God, her husband, and herself ? and how 
 might it be expected to end, if not in the final resignation 
 of all that woman should hold most sacred ? 
 
 Miss Ainsworth's reasoning was unassailable, her 
 censure only too just; but the errors she combated had 
 crept so insidiously into the undefended mind of her 
 cousin, and had seemed to Maria so fully justified, either 
 by her own individual character or the qualities or 
 condition of others, that the sudden attack brought 
 offence but no conviction. A glance was sufficient 
 to shew her the tenor of the epistle, but she pre- 
 ferred being alone before making herself mistress of 
 its whole contents. 
 
 Shortly after breakfast it was the custom of the family 
 to disperse to their several avocations ; and Maria, follow- 
 ing the usual course, was proceeding to read the letter in 
 her own apartment, when, perceiving that she was the last 
 to leave the breakfast parlour, she hesitated and turned 
 back when her foot had even crossed the threshold ; for 
 why go elsewhere when her solitude there was so entire ? 
 
296 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 or, rather — why leave the vicinity of the garden while 
 Manley Frere was loitering amongst its shrubs and 
 flower-beds ? So she stayed behind the rest, and open- 
 ing still wider the glass-door which gave upon the 
 terrace, stood there — herself all unnoticed — dividing her 
 eyes and her thoughts between the angry letter and him 
 who was the cause and the subject of it. 
 
 In the cool retirement of her chamber, alone, and 
 entirely apart from the deaf guest, her cousin's remon- 
 strances would have had a better chance of touching 
 her : chained to the point of the argument, lier cheek 
 might possibly have burned with more of shame than 
 wrath, when she found herself so severely taken to task. 
 But here, each solemn paragraph, full of reproof and 
 warning, excited only a supercihous smile ; and ever, as 
 she finished each fresh division of the lecture, her eyes 
 would be wandering abroad — seeking what seemed to 
 her a living, breathing confutation of all such common 
 truisms, such poor — such narrow-minded reasoning ! 
 
 As long as Lucy Ainsworth denounced only her kins- 
 woman's moral sentiments, or enlarged upon the injured 
 rights of the unsuspecting Colonel Hussey, this same 
 sneer of angry derision sufficed to mark Miss Palliser's 
 entire yet calm opposition of opinion ; but shortly the 
 letter took another tone, and then, forsooth, the young 
 lady's indignation began to simmer, and surge, and 
 bubble over ; for holding it, as she did, to be a most just 
 and holy anger, she gave her feelings the freest vent, 
 and even luxuriated in their mute expression. The 
 passage that so excited her ran thus : — 
 
WELL MEANT, BUT ILL RECEIVED. 297 
 
 " I infer the danger of the predilection you own to, from 
 the strange and unnatural nature of it ; the object which 
 has bewitched you plainly proving, that you have imbibed 
 all the blindness as well as insanity of that species of 
 affection which you have hitherto held so lightly, and 
 taken such pleasure in depreciating — and that even when 
 the attachment was of a natural and creditable sort. You 
 must pardon me — indeed you must — for saying that this 
 fancy of your's is neither the one nor the other. This 
 person, whose perfections you vaunt so eloquently, and 
 whose image is to be carried with you to your grave, 
 and form your only consolation — and so forth — varnish 
 the plain fact as yau please, is deficient in one of 
 humanity's greatest advantages; and (forgive me again !) 
 it must be either a perverted taste, or a heart predis- 
 posed to surrender to the first object that strikes the eye, 
 that can attempt not merely to palliate such a glaring 
 imperfection, but actually to prize and laud it as a 
 peculiar charm. I could smile at such a queer instaqce 
 of female delusion, if I did not in your case feel so 
 anxious as to its probable result. Were you one of 
 those vain and light-headed girls so commonly to be 
 met with, I should hardly think it worth while to 
 answer your wild declamation ; for 1 should trust that 
 this odd passion would soon take a new direction, per- 
 haps to some subject still more odd and unaccountable ; 
 and the deaf hero might in due time give place to a 
 blind or a lame one, regarding whose deficiencies you 
 would be just as enthusiastic as you are about this 
 Mr. Frere ! It w^ould be but exchanging the ear-tube 
 
298 THE THREE CHAI^CES. ' 
 
 for a pair of crutches — signs, both of them, of in- 
 firmities which we are bound to pity, but surely not to 
 idolize ! But this is no subject for raillery. All that 
 I have ever known of you, assures me that your feelings 
 are capable of tenacity as well as depth ; and, while 
 almost hopeless of convincing, I must again and again 
 implore you to consider, coolly and rationally, the horrible 
 dilemma in which you are placing yourself, situated as 
 you are with regard to Mr. Frere. You say he is 
 guiltless of any attempt to gain your affections, and 
 for his sake it is well that it should be so ; though there 
 would be more excuse for you if he had been less 
 scrupulous — you, knowing the utter impossibility of a 
 union with him ; and that, unless you put the strongest 
 curb upon your heated fancy, and shun his society 
 henceforth, instead of seeking it so sedulously, as I fear 
 you do — your youth and all the respectability and com- 
 fort of your life will be consumed in vain wishes and 
 fruitless repining." 
 
 Never had a solemn and laboured address been more 
 effectually deprived of its intended effect, by the in- 
 sertion of one unlucky paragraph. All the sound sense 
 and earnest friendship which the remonstrance embodied, 
 were neutralized utterly by this contemptuous allusion 
 to Frere. Maria might gather the purport of the rest 
 of the letter, and even read it to the end ; but con- 
 tinually, and with ever-increasing irritation, she was 
 recurrinof to the offensive sentence, and no tenderness to 
 herself, or gentle remorse for her feelings, such as pre- 
 
'' CAVE CANEM ! " 299 
 
 dominated in other portions of the letter, could make 
 amends for this. 
 
 That he, the object of her heartfelt veneration, should 
 be treated with such dishonour — his virtues doubted, 
 merely, as it seemed, because she had magnified them — 
 and his misfortunes sneered at in a vein of vulgar 
 ridicule ! " The meanest creature, visited as he had 
 been by the mysterious wrath of Heaven, ought surely," 
 
 she said, " to be exempt from mockery ; but he ! " and 
 
 then her face, in which the softest compassion for him 
 seemed struggling with the expression of her own 
 wounded pride, was turned again towards that beloved 
 form which kept her lingering there. And, as Frere 
 slowly retreated up the garden, Maria burst into a half- 
 muttered and most indignant 'soliloquy, which, had it 
 been caught indistinctly with the accompaniment of her 
 fine person and most expressive features, might well 
 have figured forth some prophetess of heathendom 
 pouring out imprecations against the enemies of her 
 false faith. 
 
 As she stood thus leaning against the garden door 
 in her abandonment of grief and ire, yet gradually 
 losing thought of all but him, and holding the letter 
 with a very careless hand, she grew conscious of a 
 gentle stress being laid upon it, and, looking down, saw 
 Shako wagging his tail, and looking beseechingly in her 
 face. The rustling paper had caught his attention, and, 
 remembering the lessons of his little instructress, he 
 •was asking as plainly as a dog could express himself, to 
 have it given up to him. Miss Palliser could not often 
 
300 THE THREE CHANCES, 
 
 be reproached for acting from impetuous impulse, but 
 the little incident tallied so curiously with her present 
 mood of mind, that, giving way to a not uncommon 
 mixture of feelings, a union of playfulness and spite, 
 she held the paper aloft for Shako to jump for it, and 
 felt a savage glee as she saw it beginning to exhibit the 
 marks of his teeth. " That's right, Shako ! " she cried, 
 inviting him to leap still higher. "It is fit only for 
 the jaws of a cur ! Seize it, then ; tear it, good dog I " 
 and Shako, nothing loath, made one effectual spring, 
 and, snatching the letter from her hand, danced out 
 with it upon the terrace, shaking and mumbling it 
 precisely as his fair friend had recommended him 
 to do. 
 
 And at this point Miss Palliser would have had the 
 interlude to end, for the whim was over with her — but 
 not with Shako ! He, trained to this kind of sport, and 
 drilled by Phebe to carry to and fro exactly such missives 
 as the one that was now between his teeth, objected 
 strenuously to relinquishing his prize ; he had it on his 
 mind that something more was required of him than 
 merely to give the letter back to its original owner: 
 " Etheridge " (standing to him in the place of all Eng- 
 land), " Etheridge expects every dog to do his duty ; " 
 and though the grown-up puppy held it no sin to loiter 
 a little by the wayside ; yet it evidently appeared that, 
 in Shako's opinion, that duty — that obligation incumbent 
 ou cur as well as man — consisted in delivering, according 
 to custom, the tattered scroll into the hands of his mas- 
 ter, the usual recipient of such trifles, and of whom he 
 
" CAVE CANEM ! " 301 
 
 just then caught sight, turning into the shrubbery at the 
 end of the garden. 
 
 Observing the animal prick his ears and start off in 
 that direction, Maria was instantly aware of his purpose, 
 and followed him with increasing anxiety; but a chase like 
 this was only calculated to heighten Shako's amusement, 
 and confirm him in his design. It is, indeed, not pe- 
 culiar to the canine race to have their perception of 
 the duties enforced upon them sharpened and improved 
 by the prospect of a little mischief. Vainly Maria 
 called upon his name in accents alternately of threat 
 and entreaty. If he stopped just beyond her reach, it 
 was only to give the paper an additional flourish, one 
 shake the more, or a mumble extraordinary, and then to 
 dance off with it when she thought it almost within her 
 grasp. Her colour rose and her breath began to fail her, 
 though less from unwonted exercise than uneasiness 
 purely mental ; for although she might argue with her- 
 self that the matter, even if it terminated as Shako plainly 
 intended, could be of slight importance — that " of course " 
 such a person as Mr. Frere, the very mirror of modern 
 chivalry — so noted for high and even punctilious honour 
 — never could such a man dream of reading a letter not 
 addressed to himself ; yet that letter was of such a na- 
 ture, and it was of such vital importance to her that its 
 contents should meet no human eye but her own — above 
 all things, that they should be held sacred from his— that 
 the mere thought of his glancing at the writing— of his 
 holding it for an instant in his hand, had something in 
 it inexpressibly indelicate and revolting. , 
 
302 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 And now Shako darted on at full speed, and, taking a" 
 short cut, vanished under the luxuriant evergreens that 
 were planted along the entire breadth of the garden 
 and ran parallel with its respectable old wall, forming a 
 pleasant and secluded promenade. 
 
 Into one corner of this wall, the boundary of the pre- 
 mises in that direction, the former proprietors of the 
 mansion — a race whose very name, giving place to that 
 of the prosperous and popular Divets, was fading fast 
 away — had inserted one of those Dutch-looking, octa- 
 gonal summer-houses, which may still be seen at times 
 abutting upon our roads and bridle-paths ; erections 
 w^hich offer a twofold advantage to the occupier — quiet 
 and repose — if he be studiously-minded, with the full 
 opportunity in the meanwhile of observing whatever 
 may be passing outside the walls : a place wherein we 
 may " sometimes counsel take, and sometimes — tea." 
 Mr. Frere had early shown a liking for the tranquil 
 spot ; and Mrs. Barclay, ever mindful of his tastes, had 
 superintended in person the dusting and garnishing of the 
 neglected summer-house ; and had strictly charged the 
 gardener and his myrmidons to keep aloof whenever the 
 deaf gentleman was walking up and down those pre- 
 cincts. In short, this portion of the premises had been 
 so thoroughly appropriated to the use of their guest, 
 that it had come to be christened after him the " Friar's 
 Walk ; " and, until Phebe's arrival among them, no biped 
 individual ventured there to interrupt his ruminations. 
 
 Now, when Shako disappeared under the laurels and 
 arbutus-trees which bordered this path, Miss Palliser. 
 
" CAVE CAKEM ! " ' 303 
 
 seized upon tlie comfortable hope that he might be only 
 crouching there, the better to demolish his plaything, 
 puppy-like, to atoms at his leisure. But the consoling 
 suggestion was destroyed almost as soon as formed. 
 On arriving, half breathless, at the turning into the 
 Friar's Walk, at the further end of which stood this 
 summer-house, she saw the dog with — alas ! alas ! — no 
 letter nor scrap of a letter in his mouth, but leaping 
 and frisking round his master ; while Frere, who was 
 walking slowly in the opposite direction, had his head 
 bent down in the attitude of one who reads, or at least 
 essays to do so; for still there was the possibility — Shako 
 having scattered many a fragment by the way — that the 
 horrible scrawl might ere this be so mangled and spoilt, 
 as to be wholly unintelligible even to his powers of pencr 
 tration. 
 
 It was Maria's immediate impulse to fly after him, and 
 tear the paper from his hand, before he should have 
 made any progress in its contents ; on she ran, therefore, 
 stopping only one moment as, glowing with shame, she 
 asked herself how — supposing but a single sentence of 
 that letter had been comprehended by Mr. Frere — how 
 she could ever have the face to demand it of him ? Yet 
 still she forced herself onward, conscious that every 
 moment's delay was increasing the risk of discovery, and 
 that, by boldly advancing upon him before he had made 
 out more of the mischievous lecture, her secret might 
 still be hidden, and her reputation preserved. But the 
 pause, short as it was, had lost her the game. She 
 quickened her steps, but, in the meanwliile, Frere was 
 
304 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 moving faster still. He had ceased to read ; and now, 
 running lightly the rest of the walk, made but one spring 
 up the steps of the summer-house, and when, exerting 
 her utmost speed, Maria reached the door, she found it 
 not only shut but bolted. He had locked himself in ; 
 and, incapable as he was of distinguishing a sound 
 unless the voice of the speaker was close at his ear, 
 no eflPorts that she could devise were likely to attract his 
 attention. 
 
 Maria felt this even while making the futile attempt 
 — turning the lock and imploring him piteously to let her 
 in ; she knew he could not hear her, and, even if her voice 
 had reached him, it would now have been too late. Bv 
 this time, supposing any material portion of the letter to 
 remain uninjured, he must inevitably have become 
 master of her secret. Her sole hope, and it was a very- 
 faint one, rested on the possibility of the writing being 
 so mangled as to be utterly illegible ; and, before quitting 
 the hateful spot, she made a bold attempt to discover the 
 actual position of ajffairs within the summer-house. 
 
 Approaching with all the circumspection that such a 
 manoeuvre demanded, Maria crept to the nearest window 
 and peeped cautiously — with most exceeding caution — 
 round its heavy framework, till she could command a suf- 
 ficient view of the interior of the Dutch-built sanctuary. 
 She needed not to have been so guarded in her move- 
 ments ; for there, at the little round table in the centre of 
 the room, sat Frere, flattening, and smoothing, and 
 piecing together the fragments of her letter ; which was, 
 indeed, in a sorry condition, but which Maria's reason 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 305 
 
 assured her he would not be taking such pains to adjust, 
 unless its contents appeared matter of peculiar interest 
 to him. There he sat leaning over the table, and so 
 absorbed in his base occupation, that, so far from her 
 gentle approach running any risk of disturbing him, she 
 verily believed that nothing less than an earthquake 
 beneath his feet, or the voice of cousin Sally at its 
 highest pitch, would have distracted his attention from 
 those jagged and fluttering remnants. 
 
 Miss Palliser's humiliation required no further addition; 
 it was surely bitter enough to atone for the sudden im- 
 pulse of wrath, the childish demonstration which had 
 afforded Frere this shameful advantage over her ; yet 
 another and a sharper pang was still to be endured 
 before she left her post of observation. His features, as 
 he bent over his cruel work, were only partially revealed 
 to her ; but she could not be mistaken in the expression 
 they had assumed — the glow of exultation which suffused 
 his countenance, the smile that curled his lip. " Cruel 
 wretch ! ungentlemanly monster ! he was gloating in 
 derision over his own triumph and her irreparable 
 shame !" 
 
 ' She called on Heaven to help her in her sore distress ; 
 for, like most of those unhappy persons who employ 
 their hours of calm reflection in questioning the very 
 existence of a God, Maria Palliser no sooner fell into 
 any grief or urgent difficulty, than instantly her eyes 
 were lifted on high, and some fierce cry or murmur of 
 impatience would be flung towards that heaven where 
 gentle and lowly prayer was seldom wafted by her lips. 
 
 VOL. I. X 
 
306 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 But help there was none at hand even if she had better 
 deserved it ; and all that remained for her was to fly as 
 fast as possible from the scene of her disgrace, slimming 
 henceforth the sight of him who had achieved it. The 
 day Frere had named for leaving Etheridge was now 
 so near that there could be no difficulty in avoiding him ; 
 and any slight plea of indisposition to account for the 
 keeping her chamber for the rest of the week, would 
 satisfy the Divets, who were always civilly indifferent 
 to her and her proceedings ; indeed, she despised them 
 all too thoroughly to concern herself about their feelings 
 or opinions. 
 
 It was well, perhaps, for this misguided lady that her 
 self-reproach was balanced in some measure by the 
 glowing indignation she had conceived against'* Mr. 
 Frere. Had her own weaknesses and the humiliation 
 they had entailed upon her, formed the sole subject of 
 her thoughts, so vehement was her emotion, so nearly 
 verging on the abandonment of despair, that it is hard 
 to say how, or in w^hat fearful act, the struggle might 
 not have ended : but in Ms manifest backsliding, and 
 the gross dereliction of all honourable behaviour in 
 which her own eyes had detected him, there lay such a 
 vast and fertile ground of complaint, as proved a species 
 of consolation to her, even in her wildest fits of remorse. 
 
 Yet once — it was in the dead of the night following 
 that most miserable day — when her chamber-door was 
 locked, and all the household had long been gone to rest. 
 Miss Palliser opened a little cabinet in which she was 
 accustomed to keep such things as she valued particularly, 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 307 
 
 or desired to guard from strange eyes — the mysterious 
 attraction which lies in consanguinity, inducing her to 
 preserve certain relics which had fallen into her posses- 
 sion at the death of her parents and other relations — 
 old letters, which she could not quite persuade herself 
 to burn — a few faded miniatures, and rings, and lockets, 
 which modern taste would shudder to behold, such 
 urns and weeping willows as they displayed to view ; 
 for, like many old hoards, the collection lay chiefly in the 
 funeral line ; being indeed but the refuse of better things, 
 which, it was to be feared, had found their way to the 
 pawnbroker's many years ago. Close by them lay some 
 handsome trinkets presented by Colonel Hussey to his 
 betrothed love ; these in their brightness and modern 
 fashion standing as types of the actual present — the 
 living, breathing world — while those poor shattered 
 memorials of the dead, forgotten by all but the sorrow- 
 ing creature whose listless eye now surveyed them, and 
 neglected even by her, might be taken for meet emblems 
 of the shadowy past. 
 
 And there was another offering from the affianced 
 lover, not glittering with gold and precious stones, yet 
 valued at a higher rate than all he had yet bestowed 
 upon her ; but this was consigned to a less prominent 
 compartment of the trinket-box and lay all alone, as 
 though unfit to be associated with ornaments of j^leasure 
 or display. It happened that there had been a touch of 
 sentiment, and a sort of playful solemnity in the Colonel's 
 manner when he committed it into the charge of his 
 Maria ; but had he obtained the remotest clue to the 
 
308 THE THKEE CHANCES. 
 
 feelings with wliich she received the pledge, he would as 
 soon have thought of cutting off his good right hand as 
 of placing that little phial of medicine in hers. 
 
 For there had been dark moments in the blighted 
 girlhood of Maria Palliser, when heart-stricken and 
 weary, and seldom solaced by any ray of heavenly hope, 
 she had secretly coveted, as a treasure of great price, 
 the very power with which he was unconsciously endow- 
 ing her — some passport to eternity, swift and unerring 
 as the lightning's stroke, which, as soon as the unlawful 
 temptation grew too strong to be repressed, or the woes 
 of life seemed heavier than she could endure, might 
 enable her to glide from existence with quietness and 
 decency ; for what sentinel, meditating the desertion of 
 his post, would desire to do so amid circumstances of 
 hurry and tumult ? Almost in the season of childhood 
 this wish had been conceived, though the horror and 
 odium attaching to it had prevented her from divulging 
 her thought to any living creature ; and when time had 
 brought with it more independence of action, the fear of 
 being detected in any unsuccessful attempt towards the 
 attainment of such a fearful acquisition, had effectually 
 deterred her from making it. The daring mind which 
 higher motives were inadequate to restrain, might thus 
 have been held in perpetual restraint, but for the blind 
 interposition of another. 
 
 Miss Palliser's original tendencies, fostered in course 
 of time by the almost pagan philosophy of her uncle, 
 had by no means excluded the apprehension of some 
 overruling influence, shaping in silence and mystery the 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 309 
 
 course of human affairs : vague and unsettled was the 
 idea, a misty perception more than an actual belief; 
 but if ever in her life this notion could be said to prevail 
 and stand out as a living conviction, it was when her 
 secret will was accomplished, voluntary and cheerfully, 
 by the last person in the world from whom she could 
 reasonably have anticipated its fulfilment. 
 
 Many a time she had pondered upon the like inscru- 
 table subjects ; but never before with such a keen sense 
 of personal interest in them, as now that she looked — 
 not without a shudder — upon that pale liquid, lying 
 clear and cold in its crystal cell, and asked herself the 
 tremendous question, whether its mere presence there, 
 thrust as it had been into her possession by no effort 
 of her own, might not be interpreted as a positive per- 
 mission, and an intimation of her unfettered power to 
 use it in whatever way should seem best to her human 
 wisdom. 
 
 Often rejecting the only true oracles of divine know- 
 ledge — often and earnestly had Maria Palliser invoked 
 the presence of some unearthly messenger, trusting, in the 
 weakness and wildness of her rebel heart, that if indeed 
 ^* one rose from the dead " to enlighten her, she must 
 needs believe his teaching ; but never had she felt this 
 longing so intensely, or looked with such a fixed and 
 half-expectant gaze into the mists and shadows of night, 
 or hearkened to the lightest sound with such a watchful 
 ear. Her joyless love, together with the confusion and 
 agony it had brought upon her, became for the moment 
 a thing remote and dim, while in spirit she was pressing 
 
310 THE THEEE CHAXCES. 
 
 far be3^ond earth's limits, and the interests which agitate 
 the children of the soil ; though, whether that rash 
 spirit were wandering in the realms of light or darkness, 
 none less than her benighted self could say. 
 
 It would have fared better with her if, when the 
 possession she so carefully treasured was hidden again 
 from mortal eyes, she had still preserved her deep 
 impression of the vanity of all human pursuits and pas- 
 sions ; but this would have argued a more healthy tone 
 than was to be attained by her unbridled nature. Her 
 old emotions came thronging in upon her solitude long 
 before tlie rising of the morrow's sun, causing her to 
 wonder (the feeling was not unmingied with self-con- 
 tempt), that, having the power to free herself from her 
 wretched position, she should still shrink from taking 
 the final step. 
 
 A sullen composure was all Maria could command 
 herself to put on, when it became necessary to reply to 
 the courteous inquiries which the ladies of the family 
 thought it incumbent to make regarding the state of her 
 health ; cousin Sally, with her hearty manner, her strong 
 recommendation of camomile tea, and threats of writing 
 to the Colonel, being much the most difficult to deal with. 
 
 Nothing had been more repugnant to Miss Palliser 
 than the idea of meeting Mr. Frere again face to f:ice ; 
 and yet, before the close of her second day's seclusion, 
 she saw reason (or imagined she perceived it) to alter 
 her line of conduct towards that gentleman : for a 
 change — unaccountable to all but herself — appeared to 
 have taken place in his intentions, and it began to be 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 311 
 
 rumoured in tlie house that the deaf guest, whose depar- 
 ture had been fixed so peremptorily for the first day in 
 the ensuing week, was now contemplating a longer 
 residence at Etheridge House. As yet, indeed, Frere 
 had given no formal notice of his change of mind, and 
 the report had reached the Divets' only through the 
 medium of his man, Druce ; but the intelligence was so 
 welcome to the household generally, that a much less 
 competent authority would have been listened to with 
 ready attention, and every disposition to rely upon his 
 statement. 
 
 Though delivered with something of mystery — for the 
 colloquy with Divet and his eldest daughter was carried 
 on upon the common staircase, where Druce happened 
 to encounter them — nothing could be clearer than the 
 evidence. That mornino^, when referred to concernino* 
 a patent lock for his writing-case, and various travelling 
 requisites, Mr. Frere had told his valet not to be in any 
 hurry about the things, as it was by no means unlikely 
 that his journey would be postponed. 
 
 As for his reasons for this sudden change of purpose, 
 the candid Druce professed himself quite incompetent to 
 speak ; " but said he could not help connecting it in some 
 way with a letter which his master had been busv 
 writing the best part of yesterday in the afternoon." 
 
 " Ah, to some of those Grirdlestones, I'll lay my life ! " 
 said Divet, growing red at the idea. " I've a sort of 
 presentiment that those people are in the neighbourhood ; 
 the father, I know, was at the Seabrights' a day or two 
 ago, and the girl herself, very likely — very likely indeed 
 
312 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 — nothing more so ! And if any correspondence is re- 
 newed between them, no doubt my house will be highly 
 convenient to him as a further residence. Oh ! the 
 thing is as plain as it can be. God bless me ! I see 
 through it all ; don t you, Kezia ? Eh, Mrs. George, I 
 penetrate the whole mystery of it ; don't you, my dear ? 
 Why, the affair may have been going on, and he riding 
 over to Langton every day for the last fortnight. Who 
 knows ? " 
 
 " / know, sir," replied Druce, with cool decision. " I 
 have ascertained that his exercise has not been taken in 
 that direction, for I questioned his groom upon the very 
 point ; and Bob is such a born idiot, that he is always 
 sure to tell me the truth, without any manner of reserve." 
 
 *'And were you such an idiot yourself as to omit 
 learning the direction of that letter when you took it to 
 the post ? " inquired David testily. 
 
 ''' I did not take it to the post ! " was the reply given 
 with emphatic solemnity. " Mr. Frere took it himself — 
 the only time within my experience that he has done 
 such a thing. But yesterday he declined putting it as 
 usual into my care, and walked with it himself to the 
 post-office, as if it was something of too much conse- 
 quence to be trusted even to me. But his manner," 
 continued Druce — '' his manner of writing it would have 
 convinced me of that. He did not go on with it in his 
 usual collected style, but was continually throwing down 
 his pen, and walking up and down the room between 
 whiles, deep in thought ; and all this blessed day I have 
 had more trouble to make him understand me than I ever 
 
FIE, MR. FREEE ! 313 
 
 had before. I'm confident bis mind is rmming upon 
 sometrbing very particular." 
 
 '^ And you are sure he really did post that letter ? " 
 inquired Mrs. George thoughtfully — " Quite certain that 
 it was not despatched somewhere by a messenger ? " 
 
 " Quite sure, for I followed him at a distance to ascer- 
 tain the fact." 
 
 " Well, it is queer enough," was Divet's rejoinder. 
 ^' But young men are capricious chaps, especially when 
 they have cash enough to indulge all their vagaries." 
 
 *"' I am quite aware of that, sir," said Druce. " I never 
 bad the honour of serving any gentleman of independent 
 fortune (which is the line I am best pleased to adopt) 
 who knew his own mind for two days together ; always 
 excepting Mr. F. I look upon him as a singular — I 
 will venture to say a remarkable — exception. And if he 
 is changing his mind and altering bis intentions without 
 any reason for it, I don't scruple to assure you that it 
 will be the first time he has done so under my observa- 
 tion" — and, waiving farther conference with David, 
 whose shallowness of judgment Mr. Druce hadiathomed 
 long ago, be bowed respectfully to Mrs. Barclay and went 
 upon bis way. 
 
 Whatever might be the inducement for a vacillation 
 so unusual to Mr. Frere's general habits, that he was 
 pronounced by his experienced valet to be a phenomenon 
 of stability amongst the race of rich young bachelors, the 
 result could not but prove highly satisfactory to his 
 hospitable entertainers : all of whom had been more or 
 less crestfallen as the day of his departure drew near. 
 
314 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 But that which raised the fainting l:io|)es of the Divets, 
 had a very different effect on Maria Palliser. 
 
 Frere's change of purpose followed so closely upon 
 the adventure in the garden, that it was impossible for 
 her to doubt that in that most lamentable betrayal of 
 her secret sentiments lay the ruling motive for his 
 seeming caprice : she was the attraction which detained 
 him at the manor-house. Yet much as she would once 
 have rejoiced at finding that she — tlie uninteresting 
 neglected Maria — possessed any sort of power over 
 the thoughts and movements of IManley Frere, the 
 conviction of her influence brougrht with it now neither 
 pride nor pleasure. His views in remaining at Etheridge 
 must be as mortifying to her as they were destructive 
 of the high opinion she had formed of his honour and 
 strict integrity ; for, being aware of her weakness to- 
 wards him as well as of her solemn engagement else- 
 where, a person only gifted with the noble qualities she 
 had imputed to Mr. Frere, would have hastened instead 
 of delaying his journey, and have done his utmost to 
 remove for ever from her the dangerous delight of his 
 presence. 
 
 To have reconciled his character with the imas^e her 
 flmcy had adorned with such bright and delusive colours, 
 his feelings on becoming master of her wretched secret 
 should have been those only of regret and compassion. He 
 must, as a man of severe principle, have censured her for 
 loving even himself, her vows being pledged to another ; 
 but wise, and tender, and incapable of exulting in the 
 degradation of a helpless woman, though her disgrace 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 315 
 
 might minister food for his own vanity, he would well 
 have weighed her temptations, and his pity would have 
 been as pure and free from earthly stain, as that of some 
 superior intelligence looking down from an inacessible 
 height on the trials and frailties of the children of men. 
 IIow opposite to all this was his real character ! and 
 how base the purpose which was impelling him to linger 
 still in her neighbourhood ! The smile of mischievous 
 gratification which his face had exhibited when she last 
 beheld it, had haunted her memory ever since ; and it 
 afforded too good a clue, alas ! to his present conduct. 
 His intention in continuing at the house could only be 
 to enjoy his triumph over her, and amuse himself at her 
 expense, by playing upon her heart-strings as upon the 
 wires of some pleasant yet insignificant instrument of 
 music. 
 
 She could not answer for it that his unprincipled 
 designs might not go further still : he might be desiring 
 so to enslave her, that she should crown his victory ai;id 
 perfect her own ruin, by renouncing her engagement 
 with the ill-used Colonel Hussey. 
 
 She pondered -upon this idea till it inflamed her 
 resentment, and endued her with resolution to vindicate 
 her character as far as was yet possible, and to meet his 
 unmanly attack, in whatever manner it might be 
 attempted, with firmness and dignity. If her heart should 
 break before the struggle was ended, so much the better 
 for her ; but at least she would force him to respect her 
 for her future conduct, however he might despise her on 
 account of the past. 
 
316 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 She made known her intention, therefore, of descending 
 from her present retirement, but not at the hour of 
 dinner ; for her place at table was opposite that of the 
 deaf guest, and she could not prevail upon herself to 
 make all at once such a trial of her fortitude as she knew 
 it would be to sit for an hour with his impertinent glances 
 levelled full upon her. 
 
 Mrs. George heard the announcement with her usual 
 complacent courtesy, congratulating Miss Palliser on'her 
 sudden convalescence, and themselves on having her 
 company at a little party they were contemplating 
 bringing together that evening — " A trifling affair— quite 
 a friendly meeting of some of their good friends in the 
 town, got up rather in a hurry to please dear Phebe, 
 who had not been in the very best spirits lately. Even 
 if Miss Palliser objected to taking any active share in the 
 entertainments of the evening, the sort of thing would 
 serve to amuse her for an hour or two, and she miofht 
 retire wlienever she was so disposed." 
 
 The preparations for an evening party which greeted 
 Miss Palliser, as she quitted her retirement for the 
 regions below, demanded no previous explanation ; for, 
 lo ! a vision of Betty might be seen, ministering to 
 certain muffled fair ones in the cloak-room, who, the 
 night being fine, and the distance short, had walked to 
 the friendly meeting in a friendly way. And in the 
 hall was their cavalier awaiting them, ready when they 
 should issue forth, to present an arm to his two elder 
 sisters in gauze and satin array, while the youngest 
 from school walked demurely in their rear, clad in the 
 
FIE, MR. FEERE ! 317 
 
 simple white muslin which is so emblematical of that 
 guileless innocence ever inseparable to young ladies 
 undergoing the educational process. 
 
 Our brother, while he loiters in attendance, has a 
 slight preparation to make on his own account, and 
 is diligently running his fingers through his hair, 
 shaking his dress pocket-handkerchief out of its folds, 
 and, with the help of a footman, whisking the dust 
 off his polished shoes with the silk one common to work- 
 days. Unerring signs are these of the recurrence 
 of one of the small and unpremeditated entertain- 
 ments which the Divets had been much in the habit 
 of giving ; and for which, indeed, the old manor-house, 
 reviving under their liberal housekeeping and social 
 propensities from its previous inhospitable reputation, 
 had become famous in the town and its immediate 
 vicinity. 
 
 These meetings, which were conducted in a spirit of 
 cordial liberality, such as better people than the Divets 
 would do well to imitate, had only of late been discon- 
 tinued in deference to the inclinations of their deaf 
 guest ; whose reluctance to mixing much with strangers 
 induced him to retire whenever these festivities were 
 afoot. Even on occasions of much higher solemnity, it 
 was customary with Frere to shew himself only for just 
 such a space of time as served to satisfy the claims of 
 politeness and the declared wishes of his kind hosts. 
 Under the head of " higher solemnities," we refer to 
 those melancholy events in the country called " dinner- 
 parties," when the Divets had out all their best plate 
 
318 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 and finest wines (and a goodly stock there was of botli), 
 and succeeded^ S23ite of their position as townsfolk and 
 new-comers, in convening some even of the great county 
 families — denizens of that world beyond the " pikes/' 
 from the countenance and awful society of wdiich 
 Etheridge, with few exceptions, found itself relentlessly 
 excluded. 
 
 Therefore it was that Maria had reckoned securely, 
 and with a feeling of great relief, on escaping that night 
 the sight of Manley Frere ; having no doubt that he 
 would, according to his established custom, take the 
 opportunity of shutting himself, with his books and 
 papers, in some remote quarter of the roomy old mansion 
 — some snug nook, sacred to peace and quiet, where 
 little Phebe would bring him his tea, and stay with him 
 probably while he drank it, talking away so fast with 
 her nice little fingers, and telling him such funny stories 
 about all the good people below. 
 
 But it came to pass that on this night Mr. Frere 
 broke through his previous habit, and, instead of shun- 
 ning society as a thing intolerable to him, he presented 
 himself voluntarily amongst the company; so that 
 amongst the first whom Maria's eyes encountered in the 
 drawing-room was he — not shrinking mute and melan- 
 choly in a corner, but the centre of a group composed 
 of the most elderly and dignified of the party, who were 
 exerting their politest endeavours to make him hear 
 and understand ; he seconding their well-meant efforts 
 meanwhile with such tact and discretion, that when the 
 colloquy broke up, each of its contributors was left im- 
 
FIE, MR. FREEE ! 319 
 
 pressed with a complacent notion that he or she had 
 been particularly successful in conversing with the 
 Divets' deaf friend, and conveying to him without mis- 
 take their individual sentiments on the topics most in 
 vogue about that tinie in the Etheridge circles ; viz., the 
 state of the weather and the crops — the scarcity of 
 servants, and the increase of Shangai fowls — the chances 
 of a war — an approaching election tor town-clerk — the 
 disease in potatoes, and the probable annihilation of the 
 Ottoman empire. 
 
 Miss Palliser had not been many minutes in the room 
 before she became aware of having attracted the notice 
 of Frere ; and while he was seeking to extricate himself 
 without abruptness from the little circle which hemmed 
 him in, that he might cross the room to speak to her, 
 she had time to marvel hov\' the greeting would be per- 
 formed. " Would he be offensively particular, or too 
 marked in his efforts to seem unconscious.?" In either 
 case she trusted that her own guarded manner, and the 
 coolness of her self-possession, would suffice to check 
 every indication of presumption that he might be 
 tempted to display. 
 
 Yes, it was a hard task to preserve her displeasure in 
 all its wholesome freshness, when the destroyer of her 
 peace — the ravisher of her heart's most inmost secret — 
 came thus unexpectedly upon her sight ; with an aspect, 
 too, so unlike — and, alas ! so immeasurably superior — to 
 all who were in his company — so distinct in person, 
 voice, and movement, that he seemed to belong to quite 
 a separate species. Then did her judgment of his late 
 
320 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 conduct begin to waver, lier very perception of right and 
 wrong to grow dim and uncertain ; and her former pre- 
 possessions, like a flight of gentle, timid birds that had 
 been rudely scared away for a season, and yet were ever 
 hovering near, came circhng and -fluttering back to 
 nestle in their own warm home again ! 
 
 Nor in Mr. Frere's mode of approaching her could 
 Maria find any thing to reanimate her anger against 
 him ; for never, even when her secret was buried deepest 
 in her bosom — never had he addressed her with a more pro- 
 found and apparently unaflected respect. From his man- 
 ner, the strictest observer could not have divined a trace 
 of what was necessarily passing through his mind. He 
 inquired after her health, and lamented her absence from 
 the family circle, with a solicitude as properly polite, and 
 to all appearance as unconscious, as if the source of her 
 feigned indisposition had really been unguessed by him. 
 Indeed she believed he could not have conducted him- 
 self with an air so easy and unembarrassed, unless he 
 had concluded her entirely ignorant of the share he had 
 taken in Shako's transgression. The assurance of this 
 brought balm to her wounded pride ; and at all events 
 one thing ^vas evident, that had she been his own sister, 
 or the most honoured of his female friends, he could not 
 have evinced a consideration for her feelings more deli- 
 cate and reverent in its expression. Most deeply was she 
 touched by this behaviour ; for, in the gradual restoration 
 of his character to its old position in her regard, she saw 
 her own rescued from the dishonour which had seemed 
 to her all but inevitable. That Frere possessed her 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! ; 321 
 
 miserable secret, was a reflection to torture and humble 
 her to the end of her existence ; but then how consola- 
 tory the thought that, though for a moment he had 
 been seduced into taking an unfair advantage of her im- 
 prudent conduct, his noble nature was incapable of ex- 
 ulting in her fall, or of betraying her a step farther ! 
 
 It was fortunate for Maria Palliser that the mere 
 motion of her li]3s sufficed to reciprocate Mr. Frere's 
 civilities; for, with all these agitating circumstances 
 weighing upon her mind, she could never have answered 
 him coherently. So conscious was she of a secret but 
 entire understanding between them really subsistino- 
 though never perhaps to be acknowledged, that it struck 
 her as if there must be some covert meaning in an ob- 
 servation of Mrs. Sarah's. 
 
 " It does my heart good," the old lady said, " to see Mr. 
 Manley getting rid of all his lackadaisicals. I've never 
 seen him so comfortable as he is to-night, poor dear soul ! 
 But I told you all along how it would be with him. A 
 sensible young fellow, such as him, is not to be mopino- and 
 humgrumpeting all his life long on account of a good-for- 
 nothing puss like that Miss What's-her-name ! Xo, no 
 
 you'll see ! He'll get him another wife in a jiify and 
 that minx may go whistle for her old sweetheart.'' 
 
 Cousin Sally was not singular in her perception of 
 Frere's sudden improvement. Maria heard it enlarged 
 upon by others of the company who knew him less in- 
 timately ; and, as her eyes followed the deaf guest about 
 the room, the conviction forced itself on her also that 
 he was not what he had been hitherto. She had occa- 
 
 VOL. I. Y 
 
322 THE THEEE CH^VI^^CES. 
 
 sionally seen him display a charming yivacity, but then 
 it had been so transitory; and sometimes, when his 
 spirits rose higher than usual, a shadow would seem to 
 pass across him ; and, as if in penance for his temporary 
 oblivion of the past and of the sorrow that must cling 
 to him while life endured, these gleams of unwonted 
 cheerfulness were commonly balanced by intervals of 
 deeper gravity and more intense abstraction. 
 
 But on this night, Maria greatly erred if there was not 
 something more than ordinary in his manner and 
 expression : a free and lofty spirit waiting upon all his 
 words and movements, and unchecked by any after- 
 thought. Whether he might be silently surveying the 
 company, or speaking to his particular acquaintances, 
 or accepting (with what to her fond fancy seemed ever a 
 gi'ace peculiar to himself) the tiresome and obtrusive 
 attentions that were often forced upon him, his cheer- 
 fulness never flagged ; and, though the evening was 
 wearing on apace, still he shewed no signs of weariness, 
 or any desire to escape from a position usually so dis- 
 tasteful to him. What could it mean ? Might it be 
 
 presumed that she — that she herself But no, no ! that 
 
 was impossible : such a thought must be driven from 
 her instantly ; there was folly in the mere suggestion. 
 Yet how strange it was, that from time to time he 
 would be singling her out from all the rest — her, the 
 cold and un enticing Maria Palliser — as the object of his 
 special notice ; even passing Phebe Divet with only a 
 word or a smile, that he might remain for minutes 
 together conversing with her! He had never, before 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 323 
 
 this niglit, shewn her more than ordinary attention ; and 
 he was not one to act unguardedly, or without due con- 
 sideration for her as well as himself. Oh, if she could 
 but read his thoughts ! 
 
 It would seem as if the power of enjoyment w^as not 
 to be limited that evening to the deaf guest, but agreeably 
 diffused throughout the whole assembly. The Divets, 
 noted for their admirable tact in arranging a party of this 
 description, had never exercised the talent with more 
 facility to themselves or satisfaction to their neighbours. 
 The good company at large might fancy that it was 
 simply the value of their society, and a due appreciation 
 oUheh^ companionable qualities, which, on that particular 
 occasion, caused such a halo of buoyant glee to radiate 
 round their host and his hospitable family; even enliven- 
 ing the widow in her weeds : and let them enjoy their 
 innocent mistake I But we know better: we know that 
 though David and his daughters would, under most cir- 
 cumstances, have been glad to see the Browns and the 
 Baileys — would have put up with all the five Andersons as 
 matters of course — and done what they could to make the 
 Pennefathers comfortable ; yet now — all thanks to Mr. 
 Druce for his seasonable hint — there was a special reason 
 for their easy gaiety and smiles of universal benevolence. 
 Where hope and desire anchor on such a goodly 
 foundation of self-conceit as possessed all the inmates of 
 the Etheridge manor-honse, it is no difficult matter to 
 resume a flattering train of speculation, interrupted for a 
 time but never entirely resigned. And now, while pay- 
 ing close attention to the ostensible business of the 
 
324 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 night, setting tlie old to cards and tlie young to an ex- 
 tempore dance on the carpet, they ventured among 
 themselves upon many an old joke, laid aside for the 
 nonce: shy allusions to matters appertaining, not to 
 Etheridge society and hahits — for what had that, Lord 
 help them ! to do with court trains and family jewels ? — 
 but to a subject so inspiring to those who comprehended 
 the jest referring to it, that it ensured the degree of un- 
 affected good-humour which is indispensable to the 
 success of a party like this. 
 
 The festivity of the evening was at its highest, when 
 Mr. Frere discovered a preference for Miss Palliser's 
 society, which even her diffidence could not but construe 
 as somethiog most marked and conclusive. 
 
 Observing that Phebe Divet left the dance for some 
 special purpose, Maria soon gathered from her per- 
 suasive gestures that she was offering to play chess with 
 the deaf guest ; he however declined her proposal, saying 
 she could not suppose he would chain her to the chess- 
 board when all the while her heart was in the dance. 
 
 " And what do you know about my heart and all its 
 naughty propensities .? " she asked him, speaking with 
 her fingers, and accompanying their rapid play with one 
 of her archest glances. 
 
 " More than you think of, perhaps " — was his answer ; 
 but it was spoken too softly to reach Maria, especially 
 as she was ignorant of the previous question : she only 
 remarked that, turning his attention from Miss Divet to 
 herself, he said aloud, " Miss PalHser, I am aware, never 
 dances — perhaps sJie will take compassion upon me ? " 
 
FIE, MK. FREEE ! 325 
 
 Phebe, declaring that that arrangment would suit all 
 parties, helped to draw the chess-table into the corner 
 where Miss Palliser was sitting ; and then tripped off, 
 with another sparkle of her black eyes at Frere, not 
 sorry (spite of Old Court and the family diamonds) 
 to rejoin her gay young partner, Mr. Moss. 
 
 Maria's hands shook as she attem23ted to place the 
 men ; and as Frere, after a very few moves, began 
 talking, she might well be excused for suspecting that 
 the game was but a subterfuge for engrossing her wholly 
 to himself. 
 
 And undoubtedly it did seem as if this chess-playing 
 was little more than a pretence on either side ; — the one, 
 so absent in mind that he often forgot to move, the 
 other scarcely distinguishing the pieces before her 
 eyes. 
 
 Again Frere adverted to Miss' Palliser's dislike of 
 dancing. Probably it was in consideration of this de- 
 clared antipathy that Mr. Frere had placed her chair 
 with its back to the dancers, while his own seat com- 
 manded a view of them — ^' I remember," he said, " your 
 once observing that you were never so forcibly convinced 
 of the great doctrine of the fall of man, as when you 
 saw any of the sons of Adam performing cavalier seul 
 in a quadrille — Do you recollect saying so ? " he asked 
 her with a smile. 
 
 Maria did recollect the observation, and remembered 
 also, that when she had written it she was half afraid 
 to show it to him, lest he should think it bordering on 
 irreverence ; and now, to have him recalling the trifling 
 
326 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 remark with a kind of arch approval, flattered as much 
 OS it surprised her. 
 
 Her spirits were rising fast, when the sight of Shako 
 across the chess-table acted upon them like the death's 
 head at a banqueting board, an-esting her fancy in its 
 upward flight, and reminding her of her mortality. He 
 had his front paws resting on his master's knee ; and, 
 though nothing could be more common than to see them 
 exchanging caresses in this position, yet just now the 
 action of Mr. Frere's fingers, as he smootlied and patted 
 the head of his dog, suggested some awkward recollections 
 that the Colonel's mistress would fain — fain have for- 
 gotten ! 
 
 "And so you object to dancing?" Frere went on, 
 ])laying with the shaggy ears of his favourite, while his 
 eyes dreamily followed the performance of the young 
 people ; " upon moral grounds, or only as a question of 
 taste ?" 
 
 Steadying her hand, though not without an effort, 
 Maria wrote upon the tablets he had put before her, 
 telliog him, " her objection to the exercise rested solely on 
 its inelegance as ordinarily practised. The word dancing 
 signified to her the highest excellence and propriety of 
 motion ; and she could not therefore but esteem it a proof 
 of human blindness and presumption, when she observed 
 the total absence of grace and dignity which characte- 
 rised so many of its votaries ; each dancer ready to 
 criticise his neighbour, and all so self-satisfied !" 
 
 " Why, this is the very cream of morality,'' be said, 
 reading what she had written, " to be deducing a grave 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 327 
 
 lesson from a scene like this, and shewing up the preva- 
 lence of sin and sorrow from the blunders of a gallopade : 
 extracting sermons from stones is a trifle compared to 
 it. And so, supposing man to be a faultless creature, 
 your creed would have it that he must of necessity be 
 perfect in his steps — the stricter in his morals the 
 firmer upon his toes : but are you prepared for the 
 converse of your position ? It is acknowledged that the 
 finest of attitudes and nimblest of feet are displayed on 
 the boards of the opera-house. Do you really think that 
 all the perfections under heaven are to be looked for 
 behind its scenes ? How many a pious scruple would 
 be quieted by such a theory ! In applauding a pas seul 
 we should be satisfied that we were doing homage to the 
 heroic qualities of the soul, while we recognized the 
 modest household virtues shared with equal certainty 
 amongst the coiys de ballet !" 
 
 " You press me hard," she answered him ; " yet if I 
 were not half-bewildered by that jingling piano and the 
 incessant hum of voices, I might find something to say 
 in defence of my theory, ridiculously as you have defined 
 it. For what is it but that union of goodness and beauty 
 which ought to be inseparable, and which surely, must 
 have been originally ?" 
 
 ** Ah ! " said he, as he looked over her reply ; ^' and so 
 the piano jingles, does it ? I don't know why, but I 
 suspected as much. Well, I ought not to be hard upon 
 you ; for what you seem to feel at the sight of inferior 
 dancing, I have often suffered from the sort of music 
 that is probably vexing your ears at this very moment. 
 
328 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 Yet much as I have chafed under such an infliction, you 
 must allow me to say/' he added smiling, *^ that while 
 I condemned the performance, I did not consequently 
 impute any of the seven deadly sins to the players, or 
 think myself their superior in the qualities of the heart, 
 because a finer ear or a more cultivated taste enabled 
 me to criticise them/' 
 
 Warming with her subject, and in her new-born con- 
 fidence losing sight of the old reserve which had hitherto 
 interposed such a barrier between them, her pencil 
 moved rapidly in reply. " Yet, after all, you ivere better 
 than these people, morally no less than intellectually ; 
 for surely those who assume a reputation beyond their 
 merits, and set up for proficiency in any art whose rudi- 
 ments they have scarcely mastered — what are they but 
 impostors — on a small scale perhaps — but still hypo- 
 crites at heart ? While you, with all the real skill they 
 were pretending to, and jQi with too much amiability 
 to expose their folly, must be held the superior charac- 
 ter in heart as well as understanding/' 
 
 She waited for his reply ; but, a little to Maria's disap- 
 pointment, Mr. Frere did not seem disposed to carry on 
 the argument. Even while she was writing he had sunk 
 into a musing fit ; and, when roused from it to read her 
 remarks, merely answered that they were too personally 
 obliging to be combated any further by him. 
 
 " And I am afraid," he said, as his eyes surveyed the 
 dancers with an indulgent smile — " I am really afraid 
 your opinion of my taste, at least, will be sadly lowered 
 when I confess to deriving a certain amount of pleasure 
 
FIE, MR. FREEE ! 329 
 
 from looking on at a scene like this ; for, after all, 
 there are one or two of the group whom it is by no 
 means disagreeable to look upon. The fact is — (I beg 
 your pardon, I believe you are to move next) — the fact 
 is, that though the eye is really as susceptible of a 
 refined enjoyment in beholding a series of graceful move- 
 ments as the ear is charmed in detecting harmonies and 
 modulations, the associations connected with the two 
 acquirements are so different that we cease to regard 
 them as equals — (I shall take that knight unless you 
 guard it.) Even the lowest sort of music lays claim to 
 a something of sentiment ; but honest dancing — at 
 least, as it is exhibited in a drawing-room — makes no 
 pretension of the kind. Good-humour and sociability 
 are its characteristics ; and I for one am disposed to 
 pardon a little awkwardness and harmless vanity, if 
 these can be maintained. We will allow yours to be 
 the most exalted feeling, but is not mine the happiest ? '' 
 
 " Trulv is it ! " she answered, struck with the sweet- 
 ness of his expression. " Happier — better — nobler in 
 every respect ! For your power of extracting pleasure 
 from that which only irritates me, declares a soul so 
 much at peace with itself, with heaven, and all the 
 earth, that it can rise calm and unmoved by the follies 
 and falsities that meet us in this hollow world at every 
 turning " 
 
 Here the hand hesitated — the pencil paused ! Was 
 it allowable to praise him so openly ? It was, indeed, 
 her most sincere opinion ; but not for the world 
 would she have him think her forward, or trans":ressin<? 
 
 3 O O 
 
330 THE THREE CHAXCES. 
 
 any rule of propriety. So with a doubtful air, and a 
 little blushj she was preparing to draw her pencil across 
 the words, when Frere, apprehending her purpose, inter- 
 posed, saying with some eagerness — 
 
 " No, no ! don't rub it out ! Don t destroy any thing 
 rou have written ! Suffer me for once to read something 
 flowing straight from the heart to the pen. Can you not 
 fancy, Miss Palliser, that it is one of the trials — the disad- 
 vantages peculiar to my infirmity — that almost all who 
 address themselves particularly to me, wear unintention- 
 ally a sort of moral mask ? The very time they have 
 for thinking, as they write, how they may best express 
 themselves so as to enlighten my limited faculties, 
 trammels their ideas, and too often renders the expression 
 of them forced or affected. I assure you," he added, 
 less seriously, " an error in grammar, or a word misspelt, 
 is a comfort and a cordial to me, as evincing a free and 
 perfectly unpremeditated style." 
 
 Thus urged, how could she refuse to give him any 
 thing he might ask for? The tablets were quietly 
 resigned into his hands ; yet, ever diffident and mistrust- 
 ful of herself where Frere was concerned. Miss Palliser 
 narrowly observed the expression with which he read 
 what she had written — perhaps with more haste than 
 discretion. Alas ! he was so used to adulation at that 
 house, that her praise — her poor mite of approbation — 
 must seem to him as a thing of course ; for all he did, as 
 his eye glanced rapidly over her penmanship, was to laugh 
 a little, and look very much amused. 
 
 '• And so," he said, " because I like dancing better 
 
FIE, ME. FREEE ! 331 
 
 than you, you infer that I must have a mind devoid 
 of care, and a conscience at peace with all the world ? 
 How do you know that I may not be the victim of 
 remorse at this very moment, and only abstaining from 
 the pleasure of checkmating you, by way of atonement 
 for some great social sin recently committed ? Eh, 
 Shako, my little man ! " and he looked down at his dog 
 with just such a light smile and impertinent significance 
 as recalled to Maria's remembrance the scene in the 
 summer-house in all its atrocity. 
 
 The effect this had upon her — the sudden revulsion 
 from rising hopes and a dawning of the spirits, quite 
 unknown to her till that evening, to disappointment 
 and mortification — caused Miss Pallisser to turn so pale 
 and look so woebegone, that Frere, observing it, asked 
 her if she was ill ? ^' You are doing too much," he 
 said, " and are not sufficiently recovered for a hot room 
 like this/' Then rising, he offered his arm to lead her 
 away. Maria obeyed him like a child, for the solici- 
 tude of his manner had softened her once more. To see 
 herself an object of interest to Manley Frere ! She 
 might have dreamt of such a thing, but little thought to 
 have the fancy realized ! 
 
 He took her into the hall, perhaps intending — for so 
 she afterwards suspected — that they should remain con- 
 versing in the cooler atmosphere ; but her heart was too 
 full : these rapid alternations were more than she could 
 bear with outward calmness — had she stayed longer 
 with him, she believed she must have wept outright. 
 
 With a gentle adieu on his side, therefore, and on hers 
 
332 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 a glance almost of veneration (so soon was her short- 
 lived anger laid at rest), they parted at the foot of the 
 stairs ; yet once, venturing to turn her eyes as she slowly 
 ascended, she saw him leaning on the banisters, and 
 looking after her with a countenance of mournful — yet, 
 as she read it, of tender — concern. Their eyes meeting, 
 he waved her a last '' good-night ; " and she, pressing her 
 hand upon her heart to still its beating, went to her 
 chamber — but not to rest ! 
 
 If a shade of doubt had clung to and embittered the 
 bricrhtest moments of the evenins:, it was bv this time 
 all dispelled ; for she could put no other interpretation 
 on the conduct or intentions of Frere than what was 
 most flattering and decisive. 
 
 She had quitted that room in agonies of shame and 
 humiliation ; forcing herself into his society only from a 
 stubborn resolution of daring the worst, and braving his 
 secret scorn or open impertinence ; but instead of presum- 
 ing on what had passed, or turning from her altogether 
 as a light and capricious wanton, his whole manner had 
 been such as to convince her that she had touched his 
 feelings, and perhaps his heart. 
 
 For, honourable as she believed Manley Frere, and 
 most incapable of playing with affections he never 
 dreamed of returning, Maria was confident he would 
 not (being master of her secret) have distinguished her 
 with such marked yet respectful attention, unless he had 
 been prepared to reciprocate her esteem, and extricate 
 her from that dreadful engagement, the thought of which 
 lay so heavily on her conscience. Alone and unsup- 
 
FIE, MPw. FRERE ! 333 
 
 ported, slie could never have attempted this great step ! 
 Her sense of justice, and still more the friendship and 
 sincere respect she felt towards Colonel Hussey, would 
 have kept her outwardly faithful to him. But Mr. 
 Frere's whole deportment, since reading that letter of 
 Lucy Ains worth's, proved that he had formed a very 
 different opinion respecting her position — its duties and 
 its difficulties ; for, had he held them to be half as 
 solemn ^and insurmountable as they seemed to her, it 
 was not in the nature of things that he could be so 
 unusually gay, and preserve in his manner to herself 
 such an encouraging expression. Still, the opposite views 
 which each might be disposed to take of social obliga- 
 tions — such as bound, or seemed to biad, her to the Colo- 
 nel — neither staggered nor disheartened her. For was 
 it not natural and right, she argued, that Frere — her 
 superior in all respects : in the qualities of the heart no 
 less than those of the understanding ; uninfected by 
 prejudice; unswayed by self-deceit — was it not evident 
 that he must penetrate and resolve every intricate ques- 
 tion of morals or conduct, with a clearer, juster, and 
 firmer capacity than ever enlightened her ? 
 
 To her weak, irresolute mind, the dissolving a 
 contract incurred voluntarily and with an object wholly 
 unexceptionable, did appear to be a measure most harsh 
 and ungrateful ; and to Mr. Frere, who had in his own 
 person suffered so much from the perjury of his first 
 love, it might have been expected to wear the same 
 cliaracter ; but he probably — and surely most reasonably 
 — decided, that in winning her from the man she could 
 
334 THE THREE CHANCES. 
 
 not love, lie was actually doing that man a far more 
 essential service, than by giving her up to him without 
 a struggle. On purely moral grounds, and as an act of 
 the highest charity, who would not desire to save the 
 excellent Colonel Hussey from the curse of possessing a 
 reluctant bride ? The world in general, and Lucy 
 Ainsworth at the head of the narrow-minded and undis- 
 cerning, would condemn such reasoning, and perhaps 
 shun her society ; but with the world, Maria had never 
 cared to have communion, and the cousin Lucy, once so 
 esteemed and trusted, was nothing to her now : another 
 had usurped her place as friend and counsellor, and to 
 that dear successor, so worthy of her love and confidence, 
 she would trust herself and her poor deserted lover. 
 He, if any one in the world could do it, would soften 
 the impending blow, and convince Colonel Hussey that 
 he could never, never be happy in a union with her, 
 and that really all was for the best. Nay, elated and 
 inspired by the events of the evening, Maria began to 
 indulge a hope that something might already have 
 been accomplished towards this desirable conclusion. 
 
 She remembered now what, in her previous perturba- 
 tion, had passed almost unnoticed — some gossip amongst 
 the Divets, relating to a letter which Druce had described 
 his master as composing with a most unusual amount 
 of care and consideration. Nothing more could she 
 recall concerning it ; but now Maria was struck by the 
 idea, that that letter might have been addressed to 
 Colonel Hussey : Frere taking upon himself to break the 
 news to her affianced bridegroom, and acquainting him 
 
FIE, MR. FRERE ! 335 
 
 (as the motive and excuse for his interference with 
 his affairs) with the extraordinary incident which had 
 revealed to him a secret of such infinite consequence to 
 all concerned. 
 
 The longer Maria thought the matter over, the more 
 natural it seemed to her that Frere would act thus, and 
 wait till he had enlightened and (if possible) conciliated 
 the Colonel before seeking an explanation with herself. 
 The morrow, therefore — Heavens ! what might not that 
 morrow bring ? From Colonel Hussey the formal re- 
 signation of her hand, accompanied — at least she hoped 
 so — with a gentle forgiveness for the wrongs he had so 
 innocently suffered ; and from Frere himself — ah ! 
 could it be doubted that, having accomplished so much 
 to level every impediment in their path, he should 
 pause there, or delay a declaration which he knew full 
 well would make her the happiest of human beings ? 
 
 Thus assumed and reasoned one of the fairest of the 
 inmates of the Etheridge manor-house as she veiled her 
 sleepless eyes in darkness ; and the little Divet also, 
 before she extinguished her candle that night, had not 
 only herself indulged in some very pleasing visions 
 touching Old Court and its deaf proprietor, but had 
 caused her anxious friends to participate largely in all 
 her expectations of approaching grandeur. 
 
 For Phebe, ever susceptible of the least change in 
 Frere's conduct, had been aware of something in his 
 manner towards her — a quiet observance, and an earnest- 
 ness of look and speech — which, in the midst of all his 
 good-nature and indulgence, had ever till that night 
 
336 THE THEEE CHANCES. 
 
 been wanting to distinguish the lover from the friend. 
 The symptoms were hard to be defined ; yet they 
 convinced the precocious little person that the prize she 
 had toiled for was almost within her grasp. And so 
 she sank into a most comfortable slumber, and awoke the 
 next morning refreshed in spirit and complexion, and 
 eager to renew her endeavours. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 Slin-H, ELDEJii, A>'D CO., G5, COEXHILL. 
 
b 
 
 ^ 
 
 (^a 
 
 ^