<&* aft w / IS G£©izsjajva, -OR- ALONE AT LAST. Written by Henry Cockton. Published by O. & S. SILBERMAN, No. 527 St. Peter Street, ST. PAUL, MINN. TMP92-006866 ? <0 <^o£<&to. CHAPTER I. THE INTRODUCTION-. Near the borders of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire stands t, &ae commanding Hall in the centre of an extensive park, fringed with a tastefully arranged plantation studded with rare and beautiful shrubs. This Hall, at the period of which our history treats, was the property and residence of General Brooke, who, having amassed considerable wealth during twenty years' service in India, purchased the estate on his return to England Avith the view of passing the remainder of his life in a state of complete tranquility. In India he married the lovely but delicate daughter of Major Mordaunt, and nothing occured to mar their mutual happiness until, on being assured that she could no longer live in that climate with safety, she returned to England with her only child, Gcorgiana, an exceedingly interesting girl, whose age at that time was fourteen. On her arrival in England, Georgiana, who already possessed many accomplishments, was sent to school, but, as her fond mother found she could not endure the loss of her endearing society she, in less than a month, returned, and, during the five years which elasped be- fore the General left India, her education was carefully conducted a* home. GEORGIAN A. Almost immediately after the General's return to England, the estate in question was purchased, and, for a time, everything went on delightfully. After the scenes of excitment in which he had lived, he viewed this place as a haven of rest. But the charms of retirement soon "began to fade; the very excitement which he had panted to escape he soou deemed essential to his happiness. To those scenes, however, there was no returning. He therefore tried to reconcile himself to se- clusion but, in doing so, gradually became selfish. His own happiness was then the only object he had in view, but it never appeared to strike him that that could be secured only by the practice of imparting hap- piness to others. He seemed to live for himself alone, and became morose, peevish, tyrannous and wretched. This change Mrs. Brooke — whose health was still extremely delicate — noticed with exquisite pain, while Georgiana anxiously displayed her accomplishments with the view of inspiring him with delight. She would siug to him, play to him, talk to him, read to him, but even when he consented to listen it was without the slightest manifestation of pleasure. It was, however, but seldom that her efforts were not checked. " There that'll do; that'll do; that'squite enough of it," fre- quently would he exclaim. " Run away. I want to think. Go and take a ride " Georgiana was an excellent horsewoman, and riding washer favor- ite exercise. She was, in fact, a dashing rider ; she stood for neither gate nor hedge, and displayed in her leaps a total absence of fear. She rode for three hours at least every morinng — except, indeed, when the weather was bad — accompanied by her own groom, Tom, a finely made, smart, handsome fellow, who had, by his respectful manners, skill, and attention, secured the favor of even the General himself. He was, however, the most especial favorite of Georgiana, for whom he would williugly have risked his life, he appreciated her kind- ness, amiability, and condesension so highly. He was, indeed, devoted to her: he never felt so happy as when an oppertunity offered for pay- ing her any additional attention, and frequently would she create op- portunities soley because she saw that it gave him pleasure to embrace them. GEORGIANA. 3 In a few months, however, she began to inspire other feelings than those of attachment to him as a servant: she began to feel happy m his society, and happy only when he was with her, and as he, inner rides, was her only companion, these feelings at length struck root in her heart, and grew, and ripened into love. She did, in reality, love him ! Still, on becoming ouite cautious of the fact, pride prompted her to check its development. Ske con- trasted her own station with his, her own education with his, her own connections with his; and the result of that contrast induced her to adopt, as she imagined, the means of subduing her passion. " George, George !" she exclaimed to herself, " this must not be. The idea of forming an alliance with a man in his position must be re- pudiated, and hence it will be madness to cherish that feeling, the growth of which may cause you to be, throughout life, wretched. He is kind, attentive, devoted, affectionate, and, were he a gentleman — but he is not, and, therefore, this feeling must be conquered ! " She ceased to take her usual exercice. Indisposition was the plea. For a week she abstained, but her spirits sank, and she felt, in reality, ill. v> My dear George," said Mrs. Brooke, at the expiration of this week, " why are you so sad ? I am aware, my love, that you must find this place extremely dull. I wished to heaven that your papa had not purchased it. As far as I am concerned, it is a slight inport^ ance, for, afflicted, as I am, I cannot be lively, I cannot be gay; but the change that the place has effected in him is amusing. Formerly, society had irresistible charms ; he was the soul of every circle he en- bered: but now he appears to view all society with abhorrence, and shuns it as if it were really pestilential. I wish that he would form some circle around him, not for my own sake, love, but for yours, for this lit;- to you must be montonous in the extreme." " I haye not, hitherto, felt it to be so," replied Georgiana. "Cert- ainly we have not been gay!" "We haye not, indeed. I was speaking to your papa on this subject this morning! and eventually prevailed upon him to invite Colonel Storr and his daughter. You, of course, remember Julia t my love ? " 4 GEORGIANA. ''Oh, perfectly. And will papa invite them ? " The invitation will be sent by this evening's post." " Oh, I am so delighted. She is a most charming, light-hearted girl : so lively, so full of spirits, and she loves me so much, that I am sure that we shall be happy. How long will they stay ? " ' ' They are to be invited for a month. " " A month ! That will be joy, indeed. We shall have such de- lightful rides together. I only wish, mamma, that you were well enough to join us. "Do not suffer that to depress you, my love : if you do, you will give me great pain. I am perfectly resigned. If I can but see you happy, the very highest earthly hope I have will be realized. There- fore do, my love, be cheerful. You have taken no exercise of late. Do you not think that a short, gentle ride, this lovely morning, would have the effect of raising your spirits ? Try it, my dear. Do let me prevail upon you to take a quiet ride around the park." Georgiana consented. She did so on the impulse of the moment, and reflection tended to convince her that she Avas right. "Why should I continue to confine myself thus ? " she exclaimed, in private. "Havd I not sufficient resolution — sufficient strength of mind — sufficient pride to meet and to regard him as my servant ? She abanded the thought of being incapable of deing so, and then, somewhat haughty, ordered her horse. Tom, on receiving this order, was delighted : not that he had even the most remote idea of the feeling he had inspired but be- cause he conceived that she had been restored to health, the assumed loss of which had deprived him of much pleasure. He therefore saddled the horse with alacrity, and as he led him to the door Georgiana came forth : but although he bowed with profound respect, she took not the slightest notice of him — nor did she utter a word : she walked direct to the saddle, and when, with his usual address, he had assisted her to mount, she turned her horse's head and was off. Tom then at- tempted to mount, but no sooner had he placed his foot in the stirrup, than his horse, impatient to be after his companion, turned, started /BOROIAXA. 5 Georgiana was for so»--e time unconscious of this; hut when she saw the horse without Ws rvier, she on the instant stopped, and nearly fainted. " Good Heavens! " she exclaimed; "he has been thrown !" But on turning round she saw him running towards her as fast as it was possible for him to run. She notwithstanding galloped back to meet him, and with an expression of solicitude inquired if he were hurt, and on being assured by Tom that he was not, she breathed again, and thanked Heaven ! As Georgiana stopped Tom soon caught his horse, and when he had mounted, she slowly proceeded towards her favorite avenne, over wluch the trees on both sides had been trained to form an arch. On reaching this avenue, she looked round ; and Tom, conceiving ihat she wished to speak to him, rode up on the instant. " You are sure," she observed, " quite sure, that you are not at all hurt?" ** Quite, miss, quite," returned Tom, respectfully. "Be careful, Thomas: be careful in future. I was wrong, very wrong in starting at that place." 1 ■ I was glad to see you do it, miss. * "Why?" "Because, miss, it proved that you were well again, and that made me feel quite happy." "Do you always feel happy, then, when I am well ?" " 1 don't feel happy, miss, when you are not." " But how can the state of my health affect ijou?" " I don't know, I'm sure, miss, how it is ; but I hope you'll never be ill again." " He loves me," thought Georgiana : "that is now clear. Poor fellow ! I pity him — but I must be firm." The colloquy here ended. She urged her horse into a canter, and went her usual round, but not another word passed between them that day. N»»r did she speak to him the next day, nor the day following that, nor indeed until Colonel Storr and Julia came down, and even then Aw merely said to him : 6 GEORGIAN "Thomas, I wish Miss Storr, while she is here, to have my horse — you'll saddle papa's bay for me." Colonel Storr, on his arrival, was perfectly astonished at the ehange which retirement had wrought in the appearance, habits, feel- ings, and disposition of the general. He had served with him in In- dia, where he was all life, and spirit, and fire ; he was also his constant companion in London previously to his having purchased this estate, and even there he sustained his reputation for gayety: he was therefore amazed when he found him taciturn, irritable, and unhappy. " General, general ! My life !" he exclaimed. "Why, what a dull dog you've become ! " " This is a dull place — a dull place," replied the general. "Then why don't you make it more lively?" "How?" " Why, by bringing a circle of friends around you." " You mean by giving dinners to a parcel of men who talk about nothing but horses and dogs. I hate your provincial aristocracy. I hold them in utter abhorrence! A set of muddleheaded, haughty, unintellectual fellows ! — why, they have faculties only to enter with spirit into a rat-hunt ! " 1 ' Are you not somewhat too severe ? " " They are not worth any man's severity. They are worthy only of contempt." " I am inclined to think that you libel some of them." ' ' They are not worth a libel. I know them well. Their brains are swamped in fat. They haven't an idea which doesn't spring from either their passions, their stomachs, or their pockets. They are all animal — and a most disgusting species of animal they belong to. They ape the aristocracy — the real aristocracy. You should hear them — "Moi deor fellow — aw, how aw yar? Foine weathor — deloightful ■weathor! Pos'tively — aw — mugnificent weathor! Borle/s — aw — getting orn splendidly — aw. The wheats, too — aw, foine; aw — 111 take two to one they average tin coomb an acor. Foine gort, that ! aw — magnificent animal— who — aw — is she ? " W T hy, what do I want with such fellows as those ? And then the women: — "My gracious GEORGIANA. 7 nO : it's excessively old ; but really, as I said to Miss Smirke this mor- ning, is it, can it be conceivable, that a creature like that could by any fair means have secured him for whom so many lovely girls were dying ? " Why, colonel, do you think that I would suffer my girl to associate with Avretches like these ? They are the very scum of the earth." " I know that you were always satirical," returned the colonel, "and, doubtless, there are some such persons to be found even here; but I should have thought that, with Cambridge on one side and New- market on the other, persons might be discovered with a little more refinement." " /have found none." " Perhaps you have never sought them." " Well, to tell you, the truth, I neber hrve." " Then that brings us back to the point from which we^started, that the dnluess of which you complain is your own fault. A man in yonr position can always bring a circle around him ; and if even he not sure that every one whom he invites, or by whom he may be in- vited, is a really sincere friend — a friend who would even in adversity stick to him — he is not justified in keeping aloof from society ; he is not even justified in repudiating a hundred because ninety-nine out of that hundred may prove insincere. In all civilized countries society has become so essentially artificial, that scarcely any man of sense can expect to find purely disinterested friendship. They must lofck at friends only with reference to the pleasure they have the power of im- parting. If they can give pleasure — no matter how — their society is to be courted. It is, in fact, selfish to expect that those whom you associate with would make sacrifices for you." " That's right," said the general ; " that's quite right." "Then why do you deprive yourself of the pleasure which society — such a* it is — affords ? " "I have »et none about here but fools." " Then you have been most unfortunate — I should say peculiarly unfortunate ; but if even they be all fools, why not be a Triton amon^ the mianows? — a very great man among the very small? Y*u migkt % GEORGIANA. find pleasure even in that. If a man resolves to assiate with none but highly intellectual persons, his circle in the provinces will be extremely Limited ; and if he should make up his mind to tolerate none at his table but absolute friends, he may as well shut himself up with his wife and study the authorities of Burton. You are now in a position to care for no man upon earth ! Why, then, should you be hypochon- drical ? I have known you to derive pleasure even from the presence of a mere toady. If you cannot make friends of men, use them for your sport ; do nnything rather than sink into misanthropy. Try a few of the families around you : try them. If you find that you can derive no pleasure from their society, you need not continue to associate with them. What if they be indignant at the fact of their being cut? What need you care, for their indignation ? You are in position of the most per- feet independence ! Therefore try them, Brooke ; try them/ " I have thought of inviting two or three who live near me." "Do so by all means. Have them here, and see what they are made of. This sort of life will never do I — depend upon it, Brooko, it will never do at all. But I am anxious to see this estate of yours. Shall we take a turn round the park ? " " With all my heart," replied the general, who ordered the horses; and, when they were brought, he and the colonel left the hall. Georgiana, who was on the lawn with Julia when they left, and who was anxious to consult her on the subject which still engrossed' nearly the whole of her thoughts, shortly afterwards led her itito her favorite room, and having taken a seat by her side at the window. " Julia, I am ubout to ask a very simple question, dear ; but were you ever in love?" ' ' In love ! " echoed Julia archly. ' ' Yes ; I'm in love with all the world ; I'm in love with this beautiful place." ' y But were you ever really in love, dear — in love, absolutely ? You know what I mean." " What, in love with a man ? " "Yes." " Never, dear, never ! But I think that I see one at this moment near me who has been, and is." GEORGIANA. £ "Oh! ridiculous!" " Do you mean, then, to say that you are not?" " What on earth could have induced such a thought?" " The fact of your having put the question to me. But I never was, in your sense, in love. I should, however, like to be, dearly. It must be so nice— if, indeed, the descriptions I have read of it be correct — but why did you ask me ? " " Because I should dearly like to hear you explain your ideas on the subject." " Well, dear, as far as I am able to judge, love must be a com- bination of all the most beautiful feelings of our nature — a species of celestial ecstary — the essence of all our most charming sensations— the acme of all that is delightful. Recollect, I know nothing whatever, about it, but my impression is that to be in love is to be in a state of rapture." " Does not that depend upon circumstances, dear?" "Well, I don't know ; but I should say that, under any conceiv- able circumstances, it must indeed be sweet to be in love." " Can you not conceive that it would be dreadful if, for instance, you were in love with a man you never could marry ? " " You allude, I presume, to a man already married. But girls, my dear, don't fall in love with married men. I don't mean, to say that a case of the kind never occured ; but they don't in general do it — they know better." Georgiana slightly smiled as she replied, " I did not allude to a married man." "Then to whom, my dear, did you allude?" "I alluded to the case of a girl in love with one whose position in uociety is far below her own." " Well ! and do you imagine that, if this were my case, I should conceive it to be dreadful ! " "Would you not?" " No ! If I loved him— absolutely loved him— and he loved mc— nf course I couldn't love him if he didn't— instead of regarding the fate as beinir dreadful, I should be in a state of ecstasy!" 10 GEORG1ANA. " And would you marry him ? " " Of course. Should we not always marry those whom we love? " " But suppose that he were very far below you in station? " " Station has nothing to do, dear, with love. Who is it that says, " Love levels all distinctions " ? Some one who knew all about it, I'm sure. When a rich man marries a poor girl he raises her from her own station to his ; and when a rich woman marries a poor man she raises him from his station to hers." " But what if he should have no education? " "What do you mean by education?" " Suppose that he could merely read and write ? " " I should like it all the better. I don't, of course, contemplate for a moment the possibility of his being afoot; but if he could but just read and write, I'd be bound to make an excellent husband of him # Don't you see that I should then have it all my own way? I hate your wise and all-accomplished men : the pride which sprsngs from the con- sciousness of their intellectual superiority is perfectly disgusting. They never make my style of husband. But a man like him of whom you epeak I could mould as I pleased, and it would be my fault if I spoiled him. Give me a man who doesn't know too muoh. That's the style of man, dear, forme. Should he want education, I'd educate hin< after my own fashion, and just to the extent I deemed correct; should he not be a gentleman, I'd make him one in my own style, and just what I imagine a gentleman should be." "But would not that be rather difficult?" " Difficult ! No ; not at all. Such a man would only require to be trained ! And I'd train him." ' ' But seriously, dear," observed Georgiana. " Seriously ! Am I not serious ? " " You really are such a merry girl, that I know neither when you are, nor when you are not." "Oh ! but I have been serious all the time !" "Well, but do you not think that there would be great impro- priety in either you or I marrying such a man? " GEORGIANA. 11 " X do not. I cannot see what impropriety there could be — as- suming, of course,- that he was really beloved, and that he really loved in return." "Julia! I'll now impart to you a secret — a secret which I am quite sure you will not in any case reveal. 1 feel that I can safely confide in you, Julia!" "You do me justice, dear George, to believe it." "Julia," resumed, Georgiana, with an expression of intensisy, " /am in love. I am in love with one whose station is far below min; but one who doats upon me, and is devoted to me." "Indeed! Who is he?" 1 • Julia, I feel almost ashamed to tell you ; but I will do so : he is ~-my groom." "Oh, do let me see him ! Where is he? At home?" "Yes." "Send for him. then; there's a dear. I'll not hear another word mi til I have seen him. Do send for him, George; there's a love." "But how can I? Under what pretext, dear? What am I to cay?" "Oh! when he comes, say that you don't want your horse; or, order the horse, and then after your mind ; or — yes; this will be better —tell him that I wish to look at the horge ; that will be excellent, George, and no story ; for I do in reality wish to see it. Shall I ring the bell, dear?" she added, starting up and ringing it before Georgiana could answer. " Oh ! I'm so anxious to have a look at him : I know he's a dear before he comes " "James," said Georgiana, as the servant entered, " desire Thomas io come up." " Is he tall ?" inquired Julia. "Not very tall." "Handsome?" " In my view, very. But you will be able to judge for yourself.' ' ' Are his eyes dark ? — and flashing ? " "Now do, my dear Julia, wait until you see him." "Well but he is such a time ! How old is he? " 12 GEORGIANA. " Why I should say about fbur-and-twenty." " That's just the age I should like a husband." . "Hush?" cried Georgiana, as Tom knocked. "Come in ! — Thomas," she added, as he entered and bowed respectfully, " Miss Storr ■wishes to see my horse. Will you bring him upon the lawn ? " " With pleasure, miss," replied Tom ; immediately. " You can put your own saddle on, Thomas." " I will do so," replied he, and left the room. " Well," said Georgiana' " are you satisfied ?" "Satisfied, dear ! He's a love of a man. If he were but properly dressed he'd be one of the most charming fellows I ever saw. My style of a man exactly ! He is, as you say, very handsome ; and, as to the fact of your loving him, I really could love him myself. But why do you allow him to call you miss t — " Certainly m its ! Yes mi.**! No miss / " and so on. Does'nt it sound, under the circumstances, odd ? " f ' It certainly does ; but then he knows nothing whatever of the circumstances to which you allude. My object has been to conceal from him the feelings which he has unconsciously awakened." " I don't see that you need be ashamed of those feelings, or of him by whom those feelings have been inspired. But do you really think that ho has no idea of the fact of your being in love with him, George?" " I do not believe thtk he has the slightest." His disposition appears to be good, dear ; is it so ? " Oh, most kind ! There is nothing in the world that he would not dk at the position in which it would place me." " What position do you imagine it would place you in, dear ? Let us look at all the difficulties you can conceive. Now then." " Well :.In the first place, papa, I fear, could never be prevailed upon to give his consent." " That is a difficulty, certainly. And yet, do you not think that if he knew that you loved him and that your happiness depended upon your having him, he would yield?" 11 1 think not. I feel sure that he would not. I am unhappily almost certain that he would treat the idea with scorn. " 11 Well : but if love be that which I have always understood it to be, it is not a thing to be trifled with ! It is not to be controlled ! We cannot fix our affections at will, nor can we at all remove our affections when fixed ! Were I to love a man — no matter whom he might be— I must either have him, or be forever unhappy. The question would \—>~ > ... 14 GEORGIANA. therefore resolve itself to this : Shall I throughout life he happy o* wretched ? I know how to answer that question myself i " "You would of course decide in favor of happiness. But could you be happy if you were to find that that decision made your friend* wretched ? " " Why should your happiness make them wretched 1 " " But if you found that they were — if your parents, for example, were to cast you off in consequence — could you be happy ? " "'* I cannot conceive the possibility of their being so hard-hearted. What ! cast you off for marrying the man whom you love ? repudiate you utterly, because you are happy ? Such stony-hearted people might have lived in the dark ages, but I dont think there are any of that sort in existence now. No, George, they would find your happiness con- tagious : they would be happy in the conviction that you were happy. They might indeed say, " Well, there certainly does appear to be some impropriety in the step that has been taken ; " but what would they say then? Why this of course : " It is not for us to make these young people unhappy : we will not mar their happiness : no — it is for us to reconcile ourselves to the match, and to hope that the happiness they now enjoy may be lasting." Happiness, dear, is the end and aim of life ; and when we have it in our reach, we are wrong if we do not embrace it." "I feel that I should be happy, most happy with him." " I have not the slightest doubt of it. How grateful he would be ! how attentive, how devoted, how anxious to please ! His affection, de- pend upon it, would be unbounded." I " How then shall I act?" " Why, I think that in the first place you ought to reveal to him the secret ; you ought to let him know that you love him." " But how is it possible ? How can I do it ? " "Shall I do it for you?" " But what will you say ?" " Leave that to me ; and then leave the rest to him.* W I tremble to think of it." GEORGIAN A. 15 "Fiddlesticks, dear! But we'll speak of this again. Papa and the General are coming across the lawn. Shall we run down to meet them ? " Georgiana consented ; but she felt ill at ease, for her mind was filled with apprehension. CHAPTER II. THE CONSULTATION. On the following morning, Julia, having obtained the consent of Georgiana, prepared to impart the grand secret to Tom. It was ar- ranged that they should take a ride together ; and that, on reaching her favorite avenue, Georgiana should playfully leave Julia, go round, and meet her and Tom at the top. They accordingly mounted their horses and started ; but Georgiana felt extremely tremulous — so tremulous, indeed, that Julia had the ut- most difficulty in prevailing on her to leave. She did, however, at length prevail ; and Georgiana at the entrance left them. " Very well, Miss George, cried Julia. " Thomas will guide me safely through. Now," she added, playfully, having beckoned Tom to her side, " you must not lose me in this sweet place." Tom touched his hat and smiled. "Do you always accompany Georgiana?" she inquired. " Always, miss," replied Tom. " You must be very fond of her ? * " Everybody must be fond of her, miss." " I wish," said Julia, smiling, "that when you address me, you would not call me " miss." Georgiana doesn't like to be called " miss " by you. But, as I was saying, you are very fond of her ? " " I'd do anything in the world to serve her." " And she would do anything in the world to serve you. You are a fortunate man, Thomas, to be loved by oae so amiable, so elegant, and so kind as Georgiana." 16 GEORGIAN A. Tom looked at her for a moment, and marveled what she meant. "Do you not think," pursued Julia, " that she would make a delightful wife?" " I'm sure she would, miss ; but I can't say I should like to see her married." "To whom?" " Not to anyone." • " Indeed ! Would you not like to marry her yourself ? " " Oh ! replied Tom, " that is out of the question." " Indeed, it is not at all out of the question." " Such a lady would never think of anyone like me." " Not think of anyone whom she loves £ " " She's kind, very kind, and condescending, and I'm very grate- ful for it ; but I can't think she right on loves me." " But I know that she does. She told me so herself. And if I were you, I should know how to act." " I beg pardon ; but how would you act." "Why, /should propose to her at once." " I'm afraid, miss, you'r only making fun of me. " 1 ' Indeed I am not. No ! Upon my honor. I know that she loves you passionately ; and, therefore, if you do not act as I have sug- gested, you are not a wise man. But here she is. Now reflect upon what I have said." Reflect! Yes. Tom did reflect: he reflected until he became quite bewildered. He knew neither how he rode, nor where he went, his faculties were in such a state of confusion. He followed the ladies, as a matter of course; but he did so almost unconsciously, and on his return he went straight to the manger, upon which he sat, and let his imagination loose. For an hour he remained in this position, and would have continued much longer, doubtless, but that an idea struck and roused him. His father! Yes, he'd consult his father. He'd ask leave to go to Newmarket at once. And he did so ; and obtained leave, and mounted one of the horses, and rode to Newmarket, and wasn't long about it His father — a very decent man in his way — kept a very small public-house in that town. He had been a training groom ; and, there- GEORGIAN A. 17 fore, flattered himself that he had forgotten more than any other man alive ever knew. On all matters connected with the turf, Timothy Tcdd was a very high authority. He knew everything. It was be- lieved that he never said " I don't know " in his life. He was sure to know. He would know, and that, too, much better than anyone else. He was notwithstanding, a hearty old fellow, and never out to temper ■ — when he had his own way. "What, Tommy, my boy!" he exclaimed, as Tom entered; " why, what brings you over here to-day? Hallo," he added, " why, you look anxious. Anything amiss ? " " Just bring your body this way," replied Tom ; " I want to speak privately." 1 ' Stop ! I can't stir — you know I can't stir — till I know what's the matter. Is there anything wrong ? " " No. Everything's right; as right as a regiment." " Very good, Tommy ; then come along in. Now then — but stop; afore we perceed, have a little drop o' sufFen to take. "What'll you have?" "Oh, let's have some brandy-and-water." "Polly, mix some brandy-and-water, and bring in some pipes, and a couple o' screws." " Now, then," said Tom. "Stop, Tommy: don't be too fast. Let's fust have everything right and reg'lar. Come, Polly ; come, my girl, come." " Well, I'm coming," cried Polly. "Well, come. Now, mind," said he, when she had brought in the brandy-and-water, and placed the pipes and screws upon the table, " we ain't to be disturbed, Polly ; recollect that. Shet the door, and don't come in for any mortal flesh. Now, in the fust place," he added, "Tommy, how's pour missis?" " Much as usual," replied Tom ; "no better." " Keep in with her, Tommy, keep in with her. Missises is the great swells arter all. A servant which keeps in with his missis " " Now, jist shet up shop for a minute or two, and listen a little to me." 18 GEORGIANA. " But I know I'm right, Tommy ; I know I'm right." "Well, I dessay you are; but jest hold hard a bit. You know my young missis?" "Know her! Yes, and a stunnin'' young lady she is. I hope nothin' ain't happened to her, Tommy, eh ? " " I'll tell you what's happened : she's fell dead in love, and, what's more, she's fell in love with me ! " " With ymt! Then, mark my words, Tommy, mark my words, j'ou'll lose your sittiwation." " Not a bit of it: no, not a ha'p'orth of it." " Ah, but I know I'm right. I know I'm right. Directly the Ge- neral finds it out, good-bye ; you'll have to cut it." 11 Well, but look here." " I don't care where you look, I know you'll have to look for another sittiwation." "I wish you'd be quiet: I wQ\ you would. I came over here to consult you ; but how can you give me a mite of advice if you won't hear what I've to say. Now, jest listen, will you?" " Go on Tommy, go on, my boy." " Well, we have at the Hall a Colonel Storr, who came down yesterday with his daughter — who's a very nice young lady — went out this morning with Miss Georgiana for a ride — I with 'em. Well we no sooner gets to what I calls the Shades, than Miss George takes it into her head to bolt, and leaves me and Miss Storr together." " Well, but didn't you bolt arter her?" " I meant to do, but Miss Storr stopped me, and called me to her and says, says she, " Thomas, ain't you fond of Miss Georgiana ?" "Why, miss," says I, "I'd do anything to please her." "Don't you think," says she, " she'd make a nice wife \ " M Safe," says I," but I shouldn't much like to see her married." " Wouldn't you," says she, " like to marry her yourself ? "_l'Oh," says I, " that's quite out of the question." " I don't know so much about that," says she ; and then she told me plump that Miss Georgiana toved me, and went on to tell me at once to pop the question." GEORGIANA. 19 44 Don't be too fast, Tommy ; don't be too fast. Many a good horse has been too fast in starting. Now, before we goes further, jest let's •Wk at this. Miss Georgiana left you, you say?" 44 Yes." 44 Very good. Do you think, Tommy, that was a planned thing ? " 44 No doubt of it." 44 Very good. Now lets be steady. It seems to me that she told mis Miss— what's her name ?— Storr , to tell you all about it. She talked ->f marriage, you say ? " 44 She did." 44 Very good. Has Miss Georgiana much tin of her own ? " 44 Lots!" 44 How do you know Tommy? — how do you know ? " 44 Oh, her aunt left her a mint ! " 4 4 Very good. Well, then, now we'll go on a little further, Tommy. When this Miss Storr told you to pop the question, what did you say to that ? " 4 4 Why, jest at that moment George came up, and when Miss Storr had told me to reflect on what she'd said to me, nothing more passed ; so when I got back, I thought I'd come over to ask your advice." 4 ' Very good. You got leave, in course ? " 44 Oh yes." 44 Very good. Now, Tommy, if there's a man in the world which knows every move in these matters, it's me. You, therefore, did right to come over. Now, jest look you here ; when I sum all this up, it strikes me forcible that you'll be a nob ! If she'll marry you — and it looks stiffen like it — in course you'll belong to the nobbery, safe. But don't be too fast, Tommy ; don't be too fast. Play your game careful and you'll win the game. You was alius a lucky dog, even when you was a child ; but if you are lucky in this, my boy, it'll make a man of you. Didn't I alius say, Stick to the missises ? Didn't I alius tell you so? But how about the General Tommy ; how about the General ? 44 Ah, that's the p'int." 44 In course lie won't consent to nothin' of the sort. You may take your oath of that ; so look out ; for, if he smells a rat, why, in 20 OBORGIANA. course, off you goes, and there'll be the end o' the matter. Now, Y\\ tell you what I'd do :.I wouldn't take no sort o' notice jest yet. Go on jest as usual. Keep your eyes about you, and you'll soon see, Tommy, which way the cat jumps; and when you do, that'll be the time to make play. But whatever you do, Tommy, keep the thing dark. Don't say a word to no mortal flesh. If you do, you'll be done. But, I say who'd ever ha' thought of your being a nob ? Send I may live ! when you come on the course in your curricle, what'll the knowing ones say ? And shouldn't I like to see it ! Phit, phit ! cut away ; tJiere you go ; that's about the ticket! It strikes me if anything could stun 'em, that would They wouldn,t have nothing to talk about, then ! But that's nayther here nor there jest yet. It's all to come, and come it will, if you mind what you're arter. All you have to do is to keep your eyes open. Don't be to anxious. There's lots of time. If she means to have you, have you she will." " Then you don't think I ought to say anything to her?" " Not at present, Tommy: wait awhile. If she means it, she'll give you a good opportunity ; and, when she does, why, make your game. But you'll see, and act aecordin". Keep on a good side of this Mi>e inferred ; but feel- ing at length convinced that she would not have been sent for without ill B Q 016 102 699 30 GEORGIANA. some cause, her anxiety to ascertain what it could be soon enabled her to reconcile herself to the fact of her being thus compelled to leave her friend Georgian a. That evening, Susan, her maid, arrived, and returned to town with her the following morning ; and Georgiana the next day received a most affectionate and pressing invitation from her aunt. The General acting upon the advice of Coloned Storr, did not ap- pear to be at all anxious for her to go ; he left it entirely in the hands of his wife, to whom he had, of course, explained all ; and as she pro- ceeded to impress on her mind, that as one aunt had left her twenty thousand pounds, the other, who was equally rich, might do the same, Georgiana — chiefly actuated by the prospect of being enabled to make Tom even richer than she then had the power to make him — consented to accept the invitation, and at once prepared to leave. Care was, of course, taken to prevent any commuincation between her and Tom, but, despite all their care, she managed, before she left, to let him know that she was going to Malvern for a month. To Malvern the General accompanied her, and, during the journey, endeavored to be more than usualy kind. They stopped one night in London, and he took her to the Opera, and would have remained the next day ; but as he was anxious to return as soon as possible, with the view of disposing of Tom, they slept the next night at the residence of her aunt. Georgiana was very highly pleased with her reception ; it was, in- deed exceedingly affectionate and warm ; and hence, when the General left the next morning, she scarcely regretted his absence. That morning, Colonel Storr — who had been in communication with a friend of his in town — entered the stable, ostensibly to look at the horses, and finding Tom alone, he, after making some unimportant observations, said: " Thomas did you ever travel? "Travel, sir?" 1 ' Aye ; were you ever abroad ? " " What, in foreign parts, sir? No, sir ; never/' "I thought not. Would you not like to travel ? * :v \ 016 102 699 2 4