THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA LIBRARY PRESENTED BY THE WILLIAM A. WHITAKER FOUNDATION f^^g^^Ut mmmm This BOOK may be kept out ONE MONTH unless a recall notice is sent to you. A book may be renewed only once; it must be brought to the library for renewal. Form No. 470 "U •V"" ^ i d*> h- Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill http://www.archive.org/details/muchtoblametaleOOIond MUCH TO BLAME, A TALE. BY A CELEBRATED AUTHOR. " Lessons of wisdom have never so much power over us as when they are wrought into the heart through the ground-work of some story which interests our passions." — Sterne. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: JOHN TEMPLEMAN 39, TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD. IViDCCCXXlV. T. White, Printer, Johnson's Court, London, MUCH TO BLAME. CHAPTER I. Sir George Villeroy, Bart, married his first wife for love, his second for money. The first was taken from him when his only surviving child, a daughter, was ten years old, and he loved this living sem- blance of his first wife with so strong an affection, that he would not probably have married again, had not the unexpected derangement of his affairs made it desir- able to him to accept the pecuniary as- sistance, which was all but offered to him by Miss Elizabeth Badderly. Sif George was so indolent and careless a man that his steward was able to defraud him of a very large sum of money ; and this loss obliged VOL. I. B liim either to alter his manner of living, to a very painful degree, to leave his country* or to accumulate debts. The first was repugnant to his love of indulgence, the second to his love of his country, the third to his love of integrity. An advantageous marriage was another resource, and Miss Badderly, a faded beauty, nearly on the verge of forty, who was said to live single for his sake, expressed such excessive sorrow for his losses, and such affection for his little Julia, that he could not but believe she would willingly repair the former with her fortune, and be a mother to the latter. Nor was the lady slow to convince him that his conjectures were right ; and she bestowed on him herself and her three thousand a year as soon as he asked for them, taking care, however, to stipulate for a handsome jointure, ample pin-money, and a large provision for younger children. Lady Villeroy was now at the height of her wishes. She had never felt affec- tion but for two persons— herself and Sir George Villeroy, whose attentions on her first entering the world had seemed to vacillate between her and his first wife, Lady Julia Mordaunt ; therefore, however she might caress the poor Julia, she, in her heart, disliked her, as the child of the woman whom she had always envied, and who had, she thought, robbed her of her lover, and also, as a rival in Sir George's affection. But when the point was gained, the mask was thrown off, and Sir George soon discovered that the child, who, till the age of ten years, had been used to un- limited indulgence, would now be curtailed of what he considered as even necessary recreations, and would be under the rigid control, of a severe task-master. At first parental affection urged him to interfere, but indolence, increasing indolence, forced him to acquiesce — as he could not but own that his best friends had told him he was spoiling Julia, and Lady Villeroy was con- tinually assuring him that all her severity was intended for the child's good ; there were other beings yet unborn, for whose welfare Lady Villeroy was equally solici- tous — namely, her own future progeny ; and while she was constantly, though vainly, imagining that a male heir would in due time be born to the house of Villeroy, she was always talking of the necessity of curtailing all unnecessary ex- pences, in order to be provided for the maintenance of the large family which she might one day have ; and poor Sir George found only, too late, that he had better have retrenched, and remained single, than have given up his usual enjoyments, and his liberty of action also. But it was easier to yield than to resist, and as his lady did not abridge him of his usual quantity of wine, or his nap after dinner, he tried to forget that no servants would stay in his family, because they had not enough to eat, and to think that Lady Villeroy was right in resolving to give a useful, rather than a fashionable education to his daugh- ter ; on this system she hired a governess for Julia who undertook to teach her grammar and needle-work only, and enough of the French language to enable 5 her to teach it to her little brothers and sisters when they should arrive. At their leisure hours the governess and Julia were expected to assist Lady Villeroy in working for the family, knitting rugs, bed-side carpets, and so forth. Lady Villeroy being what is commonly called a notable ma- naging woman, and some persons more just than elegant, used to bestow on her the common, vulgar appellation of a nip, or a skin-flint— that is an avaricious, mean woman. Hitherto poor Julia had slept in the largest room on the second floor, both in the town and country house ; but now that room was to be set apart for a nur- sery, and she and the governess, a well- born woman, " whose poverty, but not her will," consented to be an inmate of this establishment, were obliged to sleep in a small and almost unwholesome room adjoin- ing. The dress, too, of Julia underwent a gradual, but complete metamorphosis ; Julia was inclined to be both tall and fat for her age ; and on pretence of tightening her into a proper shape, the child wore 6 high stiff stays, so narrow in front that the fine open chest, which nature gave her, was wholly obscured ; her shoulders thrown up in an unhealthy and ungraceful manner; while her mother-in-law was often lamenting how shockingly ill-made, and how very high shouldered her poor dear Julia was; then, her hair was re- presented as having such a tendency to be dirty, that it was necessary it should be cut close to her head ; and those luxuriant auburn ringlets, which had once been the pride of both her parents, were so com- pletely annihilated as soon as Lady Villeroy assumed her reign, that Sir George could not help stamping his foot with vexation, and almost muttering an oath when he first beheld the change ; indeed, Julia was at length so completely altered by want of her accustomed exer- cise and recreation, by her ugly dress, and her cropped hair, that the likeness to her mother, which made her odious to Lady Villeroy because it endeared her to Sir George, was entirely annihilated ; and the mortified father used to exclaim, when Julia made her low and awkward curtsey at the door, as she left the room, " Well, I am so disappointed, I really believe that girl will make a plain woman after all ; '' and he retained this opinion even when Julia had attained her fifteenth year ; though he could not help declaring, even in her pre- sence, spite of the frown of his wife, that she was at least a fine grown girl, though very narrow chested and high shouldered. No wonder, as spite of her rapid growth the poor girl was forced to wear her frocks two years, till they became at length so short, that decency as well as grace were violated in her appearance ; but Lady Villeroy was at length urged to bestow a deep flounce on these old habiliments, by the jealous pain which an observation of Sir George's occasioned her. " Really, my dear," said he, " Julia's petticoats would be frightfully short were it not for the excessive beauty of her feet and ankles, which remind me forcibly of her poor mother." Jealousy immediately conquered ava- rice, and Julia and Miss Brightwen, the governess, were desired to lengthen the frocks with all possible expedition. Mean- while, though Julia's mind and talents re- mained uncultivated, her heart and her temper were in a state of progressive im- provement. The temper of few children, who had been indulged in all their wishes till the age often, could have escaped utter destruction when such indulgence was suc- ceeded by severity and privations ; but as Julia's temper was so good that it had not been much injured, even by pernicious in- dulgence, it was enabled to resist the nearly as fatal power of severity, by the counter- action which the influence of the gover- ness proved to that of the mother. Sophia Bright wen had known better days — and fortune smiled deceitful in her birth. Her father, soon after her good and pious mo- ther was taken from him, was so embar- rassed by his own extravagance that he was found to sell his estates ; with what remained after his debts were paid, he entered into a business in which he only just escaped bankruptcy, and, like Sir George Villeroy, had been induced to marry for money ; but unlike Sir George he speculated with the money thus ob- tained, which so irritated the temper of his wife, that his children could not live in the house with her, and he himself was obliged to own that it was necessary they must try to maintain themselves; accordingly, his daughters were forced to leave home, and the elder was induced to marry for a maintenance, and became miserable and indigent for life; the younger, Sophia, was glad to accept the situation of gover- ness to Julia Villeroy, with a scanty salary, and on conditions which pride and ava- rice only could have imposed, and des- ponding poverty have accepted. But Sophia bore her lot with unre- pining patience ; she had early learned to cast her cares on her Creator, and when her father proved a beggar, and her lover, in consequence of it, forsook her, and mar- ried a richer maiden, Sophia remembered 10 there was one in heaven who loved her ; and she learned at length to smile amidst her sorrows. When she became an inmate of Sir George Villeroy's house, she felt great sympathy with the situation of poor Julia. Julia, like herself, was the object of a mother-in-law's tyranny and dislike, and she endeavoured by her affectionate sooth- ings to heal the wounded feelings of the irritated and suffering girl. She told her also the story of her own sorrows, and while Julia listened to it, she saw in it such a resemblance to her own distress, that the relater naturally became endeared to her, and she was always impatient when the few hours in a day which she passed in Lady Villeroy's apartments became fewer ; and fewer they very soon became, as Lady Villeroy said Sir George's frequent attacks of the gout made him unable to bear the excitement of the presence even of his own child. Julia had loved her father tenderly, and she loved him still ; but as she was now forbidden the usual testimonies of his fondness, her pleasure in being with him 11 was destroyed, and she found the society of her governess a refuge. Soon also it became a blessing to her, for the simple, unobtrusive, but heart-felt piety which enabled Miss Brightwen to endure with cheerful patience the hardships of her lot, was not lost upon the sensitive mind of her pupil; even though her governess could not teach her accomplishments, she was able to instruct her in those truths, with- out which all other teaching is vain, and thus enabled her to bear the " crook in her lot" with humble resignation. Yet, though Julia was denied the means of learning either music or draw- ing, her talents for them shewed and in- dulged themselves in spite of all opposi- tion ; her room was decorated with cheap prints, on which she expended part of her small allowance, and which she en- deavoured to copy in her few moments of leisure from her heavy tasks of working for the indulgence of Lady Villeroy's ne- cessities, fancies, or parsimony ; and the face of Miss Brightwen, in various views, 12 was to be seen in every part of the room, ill-drawn indeed, but so like as to shew that her talent for drawing was worthy of cultivation. At dusk, both the governess and the pupil might be seen leaning out of their window, listening with eager de- light to the hand-organ playing in the ad- jacent square, and there was not a tune on the barrel which Julia could not sing by heart, almost as soon as she heard it, and with which she did not make vocal the fields round her father's mansion in the country, when she was sure that no echo could bring it to the ear of Lady Villeroy. But this was a pleasure of which she was now entirely deprived, for as there was a degree of hospitality and generous living requisite to Sir George's situation in life in the country, which did not suit the nar- row spirit and saving ways of Lady Vil- leroy, she contrived to alarm Sir George's fear for his health so much, that she made him think it dangerous for him to remove from the immediate vicinity of his London physician and their house in Gloucester- 13 place became at length their only resi- dence. Consequently, as Lady Villeroy could not, or would not spare a footman to walk behind Miss Villeroy and her go- verness, and she had been told by persons of whose opinion she stood in awe, that Julia was too tall and womanly to walk without one, the garden in Portman-square was the boundary of poor Julia's walk, and those cheeks which had glowed with the roses of health while she could enjoy the air and exercise of the country, now became pale and lifeless from confinement at her needle, and from want of relaxation and exertion. At length, however, the governess and pupil obtained leave to walk out for an hour or two before break- fast toward the Regent's Park, and by their rapid pace, the prisoners always endeavoured to make as much of this opportunity as possible. One morning as they were going along this favourite road, they heard a hand-organ at a distance, and Julia could not resist her inclination to follow it^n order to listen to it more at 14 her ease than she had hitherto done ; in vain her governess was representing to her that she was going too far, when, at this moment a dog of a very suspicious ap- pearance came staggering along the road, and Miss Brightwen catching hold of Julia's arm, pulled her forcibly back, ex- claiming, " that dog is mad, let us get over this gate instantly !" but before Julia could reach the gate, retreating backwards for the greater safety, the dog directed his steps towards her, and was on the very point of springing on her, when a gentle- man, who was passing in a gig, jumped out, and seizing the animal by the nape of the neck, held him struggling in his grasp, conjuring Julia to climb over the gate instantly lest the animal should get loose ; but Miss Brightwen vainly attempted to persuade her to go further than the top bar of the gate. She saw the evident danger of her preserver, whose hold of the dog grew every moment weaker, and she could not stir from the spot, but remained motionless in fearful expectation of the 15 consequences. At length some men who had been sent in pursuit of the dog, came up, threw a noose over his neck, and saved the gentleman from a fate which became unavoidable ; and he was turning to speak to Julia, when, on looking round, he saw that his horse had burst from the hold of his groom, and was running down the road dragging his gig against the hedge, and in momentary danger of overturning it. Accordingly, he immediately joined in the pursuit himself, and soon disappeared from their view. But Julia continued to gaze after him, indulging a hope he would return, till Miss Brightwen insisted on her setting off for home immediately, or they would be too late for breakfast, and they should not be allowed to walk out again. Julia reluctantly complied, the more so, because the men who had pursued the dog, and others who had joined them, were loud in praise of the gentleman's intrepidety in seizing so powerful an animal at the evident risk of his own life. " He is a gallant fellow, I know," said one of 16 the men, " I forget his name, he is a captain in the navy, and some lord's son :" but Julia, though willing to linger still to listen to this conversation, was urged forward when another man said, " Well my dear, he saved your life, that is a sure thing, and I do not wonder you look so pale and so frightful, nor that other person neither, shall I give you an arm ?" This offer they civilly, but hastily declined, and with tottering, but rapid steps they returned to Gloucester-place. When they arrived they luckily reached their own apartment unquestioned ; but the terror which Miss Brightwen had undergone, on Julia's account, threw her into a fainting fit, which put Lady Villeroy to the expence of so much hartshorn and sal volatile, that she declared they should never go out of the garden into the square again. A sad hearing for Julia, who had secretly re- solved to go every morning to the same spot, being more alive to the hope of seeing her preserver than to the fear of meeting another mad dog. 17 Miss Brightwen thought the hope more unfounded than the fear, and was not sorry that, for the present at least, their morning ramble was forbidden ; and, for the first time, Julia found her governess not dis- posed to sympathise in her feelings. * But, you forget, surely, that he saved my life, and how ungrateful I must be not to wish to see him again!" was Julia's constant reply, when Miss Brightwen disapproved her desire of revisiting the scene of her danger ; however, Julia was always ap- peased, when she readily owned that, as far as her fright allowed her to judge, the gentleman was tall and handsome, and of his courage there could be no doubt : " Who knows," she used to add, and that always made her peace, " who knows, but you may see him one day when you least expect it." But Sophia soon found that Julia had little pleasure in talking on any other subject, and that she seemed to dwell with never ceasing satisfaction on the remembrance of this only marked event in her life. 18 This circumstance alarmed the con- scientious governess ; for, as she was not at all aware that Julia had ever read books which treated on the subject of love and adventures, she began to fear that she had herself prepared her young heart to receive this strong and, perhaps, dangerous impression, by telling her the history of }.er own unfortunate attachment. Her acquaintance with her lover had first begun, in his having saved her from an enraged cow ; and she had once given her a detail of all her love, all her injuries ; but then it was only once, as he was married, and even to think of him was become criminal ; still, it had been once too much, for the conversation had made an indelible im- pression on its hearer : as, before he mar- ried his second wife, her father had allowed her to read whatever his library contained, and though she was only ten years old, the ideas of love, of lovers, first-sight attach- ment, and adventures, faded away from it again for want of being renewed, had not the chances of life presented the real 19 heroine of a love affair to her in the form of Sophia Brightwen. There, before her eyes, she beheld a love-lorn maid, telling a tale of faithful and hopeless attachment, weeping too as she told it, and looking inte- resting beyond all description : this reality was far more dangerous than any fiction could have been ; and, while Julia listened to the story with many a trickling tear, the governess imputed her sorrow to sympathy alone, unconscious that even her grief made her the object of envy to her young companion, and that she wished to have a lover, a tender grief, an adventurer, and a confidante ; and as the story of her love had not long been confided to Julia, when the alarm in the Regent's Park took place, there was an adventure, a young and handsome deliverer, and, perhaps, a lover! at least there was an object to love, and Julia believed she loved — but though she tried to be very unhappy, certainly sighed deeply and audibly ; she eat heartily, slept well, and grew fat, in spite of her wounded heart. Still she certainly thought too 20 much of her preserver, but she was, begin- ning to admit, that he was probably mar- ried, for Miss Brightwen was continually saying that she might never see him again; that it was very evident he was not much interested in them, or he would have re- turned to -enquire how they did after he had caught his horse, and as this last ob- servation had more weight than the others, Julia was beginning to talk, and even to think less of the generous unknown, when a new event in her life promised to obli- terate the remembrance of it entirely. 21 CHAP. II. Lady Julia Villeroy (Julia's mother) was the daughter of the Earl and Countess of Beltravers ; and the countess, on the death of her first husband, married the Earl of Pakenham, who was a widower, and, as well as herself, had an only daughter ; — these children grew up with the most affec- tionate regard for each other ; in process of time one of them married Sir George Villeroy, and the other Lord Stanmore, afterwards Earl of Erpingham; their friendship continued unimpaired till the death of Lady Julia Villeroy ; and Lady Helena Fortescue, the daughter of Lady Erpingham, who was only some months, older than Julia, was her frequent play- fellow, and the guest of her mother. The children also were accustomed to call each other's mother aunt, and their husbands' uncle, though no relationship subsisted 22 between them ; but affection loves to make ties as close as it possibly can, and Lady Villeroy and Lady Erpingham loved to address each other by the name of sister ; they were also pleased to be addressed by their children in the language of near kindred, while they delighted to behold the affection which subsisted between them. But when Lady Julia died, and Sir George married again, all frequent intercourse between the families ceased, and Julia and Lady Helena met no more, for Lady Villeroy always remembered that the latter was an indulged and high-spirited child, therefore not a suitable companion for her already too much petted daughter- in-law, and every invitation to Erpingham- place was peremptorily forbidden. This refusal distressed Lady Erpingham, and enraged Lady Helena ; but the latter could not forget the companion of her happy childhood, and as Lady Helena and her father were coming to London unex- pectedly on business, after an uninter- rupted residence there of some years in 23 the country, on account of Lady Erping- ham's ill health, which made country air necessary to preserve her life. Lord Er- pingham wrote a letter to Sir George, to announce his intention of calling on him very soon, accompanied hy his daugh- ter. " What, is this Lord Erpingham com- ing to London on business for a few days, and meaning to call on me!" cried Sir George as he perused the letter : " Lady Villeroy, we must write and ask them to come hither." " Come hither !" not for the world !" she replied, turning pale with apprehen- sion ; " consider the state of your health, my love ; that rude, spoiled girl would riot you to death in a day." " Nonsense ! she is a young woman now, and, I dare say, is as quiet as Julia— they must come hither, indeed ; remember our near connexion, my poor wife was no relation at all to the Erpingham's." « That is all stuff, Sir George, let hem go to the hotel— they can afford it, <24 and we have not a house fit to receive lords and ladies, and servants fit to cook for and wait on them." " Then, why have we not, Lady Vil- leroy ?" said Sir George, with more than his usual spirit. " Why not ? because we cannot afford jt to be sure, and lay by what we ought of our income for unforeseen emergen- cies." She no longer dared to say, as she used to do, " for the sake of younger children," as they, though foreseen, were certainly not now likely to be really seen. " Nonsense !" cried Sir George, petu- lantly, " what emergencies have we to dread now that ought to prevent me from opening my house to an old friend !" " An old friend, Sir George, is one thing, but a peer of the realm is an- other." " 'Sdeath ! madam, do you mean to say a lord cannot be a friend ? what do you mean, madam, with your mysterious objections V 25 " I mean that a lord cannot be enter- tained as easily and cheaply as a friend who is not noble." ft Cheaply ! I do not want any friend of mine to be so entertained at my house, Lady Villeroy, and I shall write to tell them." " They cannot come hither," she re- plied coldly and firmly, " for it is utterly impossible ! The hangings of the best bed are taken down and papered up. The next best bed is down, posts and all ; we have but one house-maid, and, in short, it is impossible." Sir George was silenced for awhile, though not convinced by this reasoning, as an upholsterer could soon restore the beds to their original state. Another ser- vant might be hired, and dinners could be procured from an hotel. But he had now acquired such a habit of yielding, and he was so pleased, so flattered, when Lady Villeroy replied to his expostulations by bursting into tears, and throwing her fine arms round his neck, assuring him all she c 26* did was to preserve his precious life, for she knew if Lord Erpingham came to the house, he would drink himself into a fit of the gout in the stomach, that at length she reconciled him to her views, and he al- lowed her to write the following letter to the earl under his dictation : — MY DEAR LORD, It gives me the greatest pleasure to think I shall see you so soon; but I am grieved to my very soul to be unable to invite you and your charming daughter, Lady Helena, to take up your abode with us. But Lady Villeroy, whose hand I am forced to borrow to write this, and my physicians, are of opinion that my health is not strong enough to admit of any vi- sitors, and that the more dear they are, the worse for me, as I am unable to bear any excitement, and that of the affections less than any other; so that even my daughter Julia's company I am not able often to enjoy. But I shall indulge myself in an hour's conversation with you, and 27 am always, my dear lord, with affectionate regards to your countess and family, Your's, very truly, G. Villeroy. Lady Villeroy's best compliments. This letter occasioned poor Sir George many a deep sigh, and a strong expres- sion of regret ; but no doubt Lady Villeroy and the physicians knew best, and the letter was sent. But he could not forget the privation, to think he was obliged to submit, and when Julia came in with the dessert as usual, that is, came to eat some of the musty raisins, old cakes, and often unripe fruit, which Lady Villeroy called a dessert, and to drink half a glass of home- made wine; her father could not help telling her how sorry he was that he was too ill to invite Lord Erpingham and Lady Helena Fortescue to the house to stay during their approaching visit to London. " To London !" cried Julia, thrown off her guard by this news and almost screaming 28 with delight, " are they coming to London ! and shall I see my uncle and cousin ?" " Nonsense! No more your uncle and cousin than they are mine," cried Lady Villeroy; " But the child has been always used to call them so." " Then it is high time, Sir George, she should learn to leave off such unbecoming pride, and conceit, and vulgarity." " Yes, child, yes ; Lord Erpingham and Lady Helena Fortescue will be here next week." " Oh, how glad I am !" cried Julia, but tears were in her eyes. Sir George, resenting the harsh reproof which had occasioned them, called her to him, and was going to give her a much warmer kiss than usual, when she unfor- tunately trod on his worst foot, and he could not help pushing her away, as he ut- tered an exclamation of pain. This was enough to occasion Julia's instant banish- ment ; and the long-suppressed tears now trickled down her cheeks, and declaring 29 her father had not spirits strong enough to bear the sight of weeping ladies, she was dismissed to her apartment, in spite of Sir George's intercession ; but she carried with her the hope that she should soon see her cousin, and was consoled. Lord and Lady Erpingham, their daughter, and their se- cond son, were sitting together, when Sir George's letter arrived. " Well," said Lord Erpingham, smil- ing, " does it contain an invitation or not?" " I think it does," said the countess. " It ought to do so," said Captain For- tescue. " And would," cried Lady Helena, " if Lady Villeroy were not his wife." " Do not be so severe and hasty in your judgment," replied her mother; "what do you know of Lady Villeroy ?" u No good, mamma. But pray read the letter, papa ; I see it makes you smile, but not with pleasure." " Read it aloud, Helena. Just what I expected. Well, but what harm is there 30 in this letter, my dear ? If Sir George be too ill to receive company, that is not Lady Villeroy's fault." " But is he so T " Why should you doubt it ? Why doubt his word ? I am sure if the physi- cian disapproved Lord Erpingham's hav- ing guests at his house, I should forbid them coming. Indeed, you are unjust to poor Lady Villeroy." " There, that is so like my mother," said Lady Helena, " always making ex- cuses for ever}' one. The other day she was reading Paradise Lost, and, to my great amusement, she began to make ex- cuses for the devil, and called him poor fellow ; therefore no wonder she feels so kindly towards his true and lineal descend- ant." " Helena, for shame." " Nay, mamma, in the height and ancienty of the founder of the family, Lady Villeroy would forgive his nature ; for you know she is always labouring to prove her family higher than that of my dear aunt 31 Villeroy, who, living or dead, is equally the object of her envy and jealousy." * Really, Helena, you are too severe," cried her father; and I am sorry your mother's example is so thrown away on you." * Her example is not thrown away on me papa ; it operates 'too forcibly. Mamma is so over-candid, that she makes me the contrary. But I will say no more about Lady Villeroy, I will content myself with commenting on uncle Villeroy's letter." " Better tear that in pieces than his wife's character, Helena." " Thank you, brother ; and, thus au- thorised, I begin. — ' Sincerest pleasure to think I shall see you.' That's true, I dare say ; — ' and he is grieved, no doubt, not to be able, that is, not to dare to invite us to the house. Charming daughter ! that is, of course — physicians'think Pho — Lady Villeroy thinks she is prime doctor and blister-plaister -too — can't bear the excitement of the affections, " and so he rarely sees Julia ! oh, the odious cunning 32 of that paragraph ! a palpable excuse for the neglect which we shall find the dear girl suffering under : — her father cannot bear her presence. There peeps out the cloven foot ; — now, mamma, if you can make an excuse for this maratre." " Helena, do not call names ! the ex- cuse is an obvious one, her husband's ill health; though, I own it is strange, that parents should not always be the better for the company of their children." " Strange, indeed," cried Lady Helena, throwing her arms round her mother's neck, "there spoke thy own maternal heart, and I do not believe the truth of any part of the letter ; do you, papa ? do you, Marcus ? Mamma, you know, believes every thing, and has money and food still for every mountainous woman that comes to the hail-door; though so many have been safely delivered of pillows and bol- sters at the Park gates." " Saucy girl ! but I believe you are right, and that the baronet's lady did not choose to be at the expense of entertain- 33 ing us; — well, he deserves all he meets with — but that poor dear orphan, Julia; now, my lord and lady, hear my proposal, which is, that we carry off Julia, and bring her back with us." " The very thing we always intended, my dear," said the countess, " how ten- derly I loved her poor mother ! and my heart yearns towards this poor girl, who is, I am told, much neglected, and passes her time chiefly with an amiable but in- competent governess." f Yes ; and she is quite a woman now, nearly my age; — she is seventeen and up- wards ! — why do you laugh, Marcus ?" " To think what a contrast this tyran- nised over, and neglected girl exhibits to you, Helena — you, the petted, the spoiled, and the loved of all hearts. Poor thing ! do not let her come hither, it will only teach her to feel more severely the misery of her own situation." '.' Well then, Marcus, if you feel so much for the misery of her situation, do c5 34 not let her go back any more, but give her another home." Captain Fortescue started, and changed colour, as Lady Helena said this ; then giving her a look of melancholy reproof, he suddenly left the room. " There, Helena! see how you have wounded your brother's feelings," cried Lord Erpingham ; " I wish you would think before you speak." " I did, papa, and therefore I spoke ; I meant what I said, believe me." " But you know it is a subject Marcus cannot bear to be joked upon." " Nor did I joke ; surely, two years is long enough for any spirited man to wear the willow ; and, for the sake of a coquetish jilt, is he to renounce marriage, and insist on no one's naming love to him ?" " But, my dear, I know you did not mean to wound his feelings ; still you should remember his excessive sensibility." ". Indeed, dear mamma, I cannot help 35 suspecting, when regret and misery of this nature last so long, that there is a little temper mixed with them — and I want to cure Marcus of these fancies, instead of indulging him in them." " Temper ! Helena ! oh, no — it is all feeling, and wounded affection." " Aye, so you tell him, mamma, and he thinks, therefore, it is amiable to grieve ; and so it might be, if he had lost by death a beloved wife or mistress ; but so to pine for a heartless wretch, who for- sook him almost at the altar for a large jointure ; it is not to be endured, and — O dear ! there he goes, with folded arms, and looking so sad ! I am very sorry now that I said what I did ; I must go and make it up with him." So saying, the affectionate girl went in pursuit of her brother, and, in a short time, they returned arm in arm to the house, though the traces of tears still lingered on the glowing cheek of Lady Helena. Julia, meanwhile, was antici- pating with great delight, the pleasure of 36 seeing Lady Helena Fortescue, little think- ing that she was to be invited to return with her to her happy home ; such a pos- sibility would have almost rendered her wild with joy ; as it was, she found herself unable to pay undivided attention to any thing she did ; and whenever she was alone with her governess, she could talk of nothing but Lady Helena, and wonder how she looked, and what she wore : and then the poor thing cast a mournful eye on her own beggarly and old-fashioned wardrobe, to which her mother-in-law, in expectation of Lady Helena's arrival, had added a chintz gown, of a large running pattern, which had been one of the wed- ding gowns of the first Lady Villeroy's mother, and was now made up with long sleeves, and lengthened by a scant, single flounce of muslin, in order to serve as an afternoon gown for Julia. But, used as Julia was to excessive frugality and the absence of all smartness in her attire, she could not endure the idea of wearing this unusual and old-fashioned dress : but she 37 was forced to submit to her fate ; and though Miss Brightwen assisted her to the utmost in endeavours to improve the rest of her apparel, Julia found that all she could do was to arm herself with patience and humility to the mortifications which her vanity must endure during her young companion's visit. " But, if she loves me, you know Miss Brightwen, she will not care about my dress," was the oft repeated observation to her affectionate auditor ; and the " No to be sure not," her constant reply, was ever welcome, and was at length relied upon; meanwhile, Lady Helena was eagerly anticipating the journey to London ; for, having learned to consider Julia Villeroy as the object of her mother-in-law's cruelty and ill usage, her young and generous heart could not rest until she had endea- voured to rescue her awhile from her power. Lady Helena had considerable powers of mind and an almost intuitive perception of character ; and knowledge of human na- 38 ture, but her feelings were often too strong for her judgment, and her earnest wish to do right, sometimes precipitated her into acting wrong, and led her to mar the cause which she wished to render successful. With the usual rashness and self-confi- dence of gifted youth, she had a dangerous contempt for the restrictions of worldly prudence, and the usages of society; and as her mother's delicate health had obliged her to consign her from the age of eight to sixteen, to the care of a fond and injudici- ous grand-mother, Lady Helena, used to command, and taught to believe that her eccentricities were the proofs and the in- spirations of genius, was only too apt to act in defiance of salutary caution, and to fancy because her intentions were right, that her mode of executing them could not be wrong. Lady Erpingham beheld her and all her actions with eyes of unqualified admiration ; but to Lord Erpingham and her brothers, she was an object of anxiety, as well as love ; and they frequently found it necessary to warn the young enthusiast, 39 that wounding the self-love of those she meant to amend, was not the way to reform them, and that by acting in opposition to the prejudices of the world she might in- jure herself without benefiting others. Such was the noble girl who now set off for the metropolis with her father,- with a heart full of love and pity for the poor Julia, and of virtuous indignation against her mean maratre, as she persisted to call her; and Captain Fortescue thought it ex- pedient to warn her, that if she wished to carry her point, and induce Lady Villeroy to consent to let Julia return with her, she must take care not to let that lady see that she considered herself as a female knight- errant, come to rescue a fair damsel from the castle of a cruel and unrelenting ogress. Lady Helena bore this advice with great sweetness, because she felt its propriety, and she resolved to put a restraint on her feelings for the sake of carrying the point on which her heart was set. Lord and Lady Erpingham had thought it most ad- visable that she should write to Lady Vil- 40 leroy, and express her wishes to take Julia back with her, that she might be prepared for leaving home ; but Lady Helena, who perfectly knew the character of the lady in question, thought she was most likely to succeed if no time was given for prepara- tion, as in the latter case Julia's wardrobe could not be replenished, and the mother- in-law would have an excuse for not ex- pending money on the daughter-in-law. " Surely, my dear," said Lord Erping- ham, as they went along, " it would have been better for you to have written to ex- press your wish of taking Julia back with you." * Indeed you are mistaken, papa," she replied ; " believe me, I know Lady Ville- roy, and I am very sorry that prudence will oblige me to conceal that knowledge from her." " Prudence! Helena, is that virtue of your acquaintance?" " She has at present only left her card for me, I own ; but on this occasion I mean to call on her for a long visit I assure 41 you; but there is St. Paul's, and in another half hour or so, I shall see this poor, dear girl, and my uncle Villeroy." As Lord Erpingham always intended to drive to Sir George Villeroy's immedi- ately on coming to town, he had appointed a person to meet him there, who wanted to speak to him on business ; and from this person the family in Gloucester Place learned of the approaching arrival of their visitors. Lady Villeroy imparted the news to Julia on her way to her toilet. " Pray, mamma, what shall I put on ?" asked the fluttered girl. "Your chintz to be sure," was the answer; and with a heavy heart she obeyed. CHAP. III. Lady Villeroy began the task of dressing with much more alacrity, for variety was in her the only passion powerful enough to conquer avarice ; and as she was with reason proud of her person, and remem- bered that Lord Erpingham had often pronounced her to be a very fine woman, she had taken care to bespeak a fashiona- ble, and becoming morning and evening dress against the time of his visit ; the latter, as it was near their usual time of dinner, she now put on, not only on that account, but because an evening dress gave her a better opportunity of displaying her charms, and would lead Lord Erping- ham perhaps to exclaim when he saw her, " Really, Lady Villeroy, I do not see that you are a day older since I saw you last !" probably the morning dress would have been more likely to secure this flattering 43 exclamation ; but Lady Villeroy thought otherwise ; and while her dowdy-looking, and ill-dressed daughter-in-law awaited the arrival of her noble visitor, with mortified vanity, and consciously unbecoming attire, Lady Villeroy entered the drawing-room so tastefully arrayed, and full of such conscious elegance and beauty, that Sir George beheld his wife with pride and admiration, but almost turned away with mortification and dislike from the contrast exhibited by Julia and her dress. Kinder feelings however instantly returned, when he reflected, that if he felt mortified, Julia's mortification in being obliged to wear such unbecoming apparel must be far greater ; and calling Julia to him by the name of dear child, he imprinted a kiss on her pale cheek, and in no conciliating tone, desired to know why Lady Villeroy had dressed the poor girl in such an odious and disgusting gown. Lady Villeroy said it was an expensive, handsome chintz gown, and that large patterns were the fashion. " But why do you make her wear that 44 ugly tippet and handkerchief always, as if she had deformities and disease to hide V' " Because it would be indecent for her to go uncovered at her time of life, Sir George." " Humph !" replied he, shrugging his shoulders and casting a sarcastic and meaning look at the uncovered shoulders and displayed person of Lady Villeroy, " What, I suppose elderly ladies alone are privileged to be indecent now a days." Lady Villeroy did not reply ; she was speechless with alarm and surprize ! What was the matter with Sir George ? It was evident that Julia was gaining favour and she losing it ! a hateful insinuating crea- ture ! once she had caught her, lately, adjusting his pillow, and mixing wine and water for him when she had gone out ; and another day she had found her reading aloud to him ! It was time, then, that this dear child, who had been the means of drawing from him the only sarcasm on herself which she had yet heard, should be removed awhile from his presence, and go she should on some pretence or another. 45 " Yes," said she to herself, " if Lord Er- pingham asks her to return with him, go she shall, though I had rather she should go any where else ; but then, she can go thither for nothing, and the suddenness of her departure will be an excuse for her not having more and better clothes ; and as she has a monstrous appetite, her board will be no small saving. — How right were the conjectures of Lady Helena ! " Lady Villeroy was not mistaken — Julia was gaining, and she losing ground in his favour. The tyrant sometimes carries his abuse of power so far, that the meanest slaves are at length rouzed into resistance, and it was the case in this instance. In former days Sir George had valued himself on his hospitality, and still more upon his family — a family so ancient, and so noble, that he conceived himself the equal of any peer of the realm, whose descent was of less antiquity. Lady Villeroy had mortified his feelings on both these points, and had forbidden him the indulgence of 46 one of them ; she had positively refused to let him entertain Lord Erpingham as his guest, and had also declared that their house and establishment were not fit to receive and entertain persons of such high rank! Mean and grovelling idea! an ac- knowledgment of inferiority which his proud heart disdained. Then, his daugh- ter, his heiress, dressed like any thing but a young lady, he thought, in a gown that looked as if made out of a bed-curtain, while no pains or expense were spared by her mother-in-law to decorate her own person ! Sir George was indignant, more and more, the more that he reflected on his lady's conduct ; — while her love of saving had not wounded his pride [and his vanity, he was contented not to interfere ; but now that she had invaded both, in his own and his daughter's person, he felt a strong determination to throw off the yoke she had imposed on him, and to open his doors again with all his wonted hospi- tality ; a good night, and the consciousness of perfect health at that moment contri- 47 buted not a little to make him thus de- termined and thus energetic ; and while he spoke to Lady Villeroy in a cold, peevish tone, and with averted eyes, but caught Julia fondly to his bosom, and gazed on her with an expression of tender recollec- tion, as if in her he fancied that he beheld her mother, his alarmed wife trembled for her threatened power, and could only keep up her spirits to go through the expected visit with proper energy, by looking at herself in the glass, and thinking, with delighted expectation, how much Lord Erpingham would admire her. There was a silent spectator of all that passed, who was by no means an unobservant, and an uninterested one, namely, Miss Brightwen — and she augured favourably from what she saw, for the future interests of her beloved pupil. But if they led to nothing further, tokens of affection from a father were precious to a child ; and Sophia beheld with pleasure the pale cheek of Julia, gradually overspread with a becoming glow, the result of pleasing emotion at 48 receiving notice so unusual, and in the presence of her mother-in-law. Miss Brightwen had been desired to attend Julia into the drawing-room on this occasion, not only because Julia had earnestly solicited it, but because Lady Villeroy thought the dowdy-looking governess, as well as the awkward daughter-in-law would prove an excellent foil to her charms. But there her self-love deceived her; she had too little mind, and too little of that discrimi- nating taste which mind, and mind alone, bestows, to appreciate the unobtrusive attractions of Sophia Brightwen. A hand- some and young face seen from under a very old looking mob cap, as if its wearer had resigned all pretensions to youth and beauty — with the illusions of wealth and happiness ; a slender, but finely rounded form, shrouded in a double muslin hand- kerchief and a white gown, the only white gown she was possessed of, and which she persevered in wearing on this occasion, spite of Lady VElleroy's hints, that she wondered any but rich people should ever 49 wear white dresses as they cost so much washing, constituted the appearance and the garb of Sophia Brightwen — the latter affording a strong evidence of her pro- priety of feelings, and simplicity of charac- ter ; and even Lady Villeroy could not help owning, as she observed how well the long black eye-lashes and the full-black eye-brow of Sophia set off the dazzling whiteness of her skin, and the expression of her long Asiatic eye, that really, in some views of her face, the dowdy girl was handsome. At length the well-known liveries were recognised, and an open barouche and four drove up to the door. Sir George, obeying the impulse of his heart, limped to the head of the stairs to meet his old friend, and welcome Lady Helena ; while Julia, rendered more than commonly awk- ward and bashful by emotion, got as far as possible from the door, and hid herself behind Miss Brightwen, who anxiously expected the entrance of Lady Helena, being eager to judge by her countenance 50 and manner, whether her hopes, that she would be a friend to her beloved pupil, and produce a favourable change in her joyless existence, were likely to be realized. Lady Helena entered with a cold and proud air, and suffered with evident un- willingness the salute and insincere welcome of the lady of the house ; with a cold and still haughty eye she glanced over the now alarmed Sophia, but when she caught a view of her whom she sought, her countenance lighted up with pleasure and affection, and clasping Julia in her arms, she called her her dear Julia, her dear cousin, and expressed her delight at seeing her. Miss Brightwen was satisfied ; a smile played on her expressive lip, and a tear darted to her dark eye ; and when Lady Helena looked at her again it was with a very different air and manner, for she un- derstood and admired the countenance that beamed so benignly upon her, and saying, " Your governess, I conclude, Julia?" she curtsied to her, with answering compla- cency. Lady Helena was, indeed, agree- 51 ably surprised ; she had entered the house disliking, equally, Lady Villeroy and the governess, because she concluded a gover- ness chosen by the former, and known to be deficient in fashionable accomplishments, must be odious and disagreeable ; but now her quickness of perception told her she had been unjust, and that smile and that tear which came from Sophia Brightwett's heart made their instant way to her's. In the mean time Lord Erpingham was pay- ing his compliments to Lady Villeroy, but not without casting an enquiring look towards Sophia, who was evidently not to be introduced to him. Who then could she be ? — her dress was so quaint, that she might have been taken for a servant, but her manner could not be so mistaken ; it had the mark of gentlewoman too strongly impressed on it, and he bowed to her as he went to meet Julia with the graceful cour- tesy of a man of the old school. " Miss Brightwen, Julia's governess, papa," cried Lady Helena, and the earl bowed still lower ; while the happy Julia 52 and Sophia exchanged looks of satis- faction. "And is this the little Julia?" cried Lord Erpingham, holding her from him with both his hands, and gazing eagerly in her blushing face; " grown quite a woman I protest, but look up my dear, let me see your eyes, — yes," added he, with a sigh, and turning to Sir George, " it is the same sweet countenance Villeroy — that countenance which once seen can never be forgotten." Sir George understood him ; "I am glad you think so," said he, in a faltering voice. " We see no likeness whatsoever, my lord," cried Lady Villeroy, hastily; " whatever likeness there was is gone now." " Surely not, madam, features may change, but countenances never." " No, to be sure," cried Lady Helena, ". and Julia is still very like dear, dear aunt Villeroy." This was wormwood to the feelings of 53 Lady Villeroy, and it was with difficulty she could restrain them from venting themselves in words of angry contradic- tion ; conceal them she could not ; and Lady Helena turned away with a look of such mallicious triumph at sight of her mortification, that Miss Brightwen could scarcely keep the proper degree of serious- ness. " But, my dear girl, have you a cold, or a cough, that you wear this frightful tippet?" said Lady Helena. " Oh, no, but—" "But, what!— do, pray take it off then ;" and she was going to untie it, but Julia resisted, exclaiming, " Oh, no, I must not indeed ; mamma — " " It is my pleasure that she wears that tippet, Lady Helena." u Then I have done — I understand you, and say no more, madam; but I hope you will allow me to go and adjust my hair after my journey." " Certainly, but our unoccupied cham- bers are all in disorder —beds taken down; 54 but if you will excuse going into my room. Go, Miss Brightwen, and see that it is ready." Julia accompanied her, eager to vent her glad feelings to her sympathising friend, and ask her if she did not think Lady Helena an angel ? The moment Julia disappeared, Lady Helena caught hold of Lady Villeroy's hand, and said, " Let me take advantage of Julia's absence, dear madam, to entreat that you will forgive her?" " Forgive her ! — what can your lady- ship mean; do you not know — " " Surely Julia is in disgrace, and you have thought proper to punish her by mak- ing her wear before us that odious tippet and gown ; if it be not so, I beg pardon." Lady Villeroy at first was too angry to reply; but Sir George exclaimed — " What is that you say, Lady Helena, about the gown and tippet? — I thought them monstrous queer and unbecoming myself, but my lady there said I was quite wrong, and they were all the fashion." 55 " I said no such thing, Sir George ; but the gown was as good as new, and was worn by Miss Villeroy's betters : I think it was quite good enough for her, and I have no idea of encouraging a girl in ideas of waste and extravagance." " It might be worn by Miss Villeroy's ancestors, madam," replied Lady Helena, proudly, " but not, I conceive, by her betters, as the daughter and heiress of Sir George and of Lady Julia Villeroy has not many betters in a worldly point of view." Then seeing the cloud grow still darker on the mother-in-law's brow, she added, in a gayer tone, " the gown may be handsome and good, and if worn by a fine graceful woman like you, Lady Villeroy, whose figure can carry any thing off, might appear to advantage ; but my poor little unmade outre cousin looks in it as if she had been forced to fly from a fire in the night, and had wrapped herself up in one of the bed curtains." " There," exclaimed Sir George, " I said your gown looked like a bed." 56 " Helena, you are very saucy, and I do not think even Lady Villeroy's good na- ture can forgive you," said Lord Erping- ham. " Oh, yes — yes she will ;" said Lady Helena, remembering she had a point to carry, and repenting that she could not but appear an impertinent interferer ; " yes, for her own sake, she will smile on me again, because she knows she has pretty dimples, and all women you always say, papa, like to display their beau- ties." This second compliment to her beauty made Lady Helena's peace, and when Julia returned to conduct her to the cham- ber, the frowns were succeeded by the dimples. " Now, my dear, take me to your own chamber, not Lady Villeroy's; I would rather see your apartments than her's/ said Lady Helena. "My — my apartments! — oh! they are not worth seeing, and are at the top of the house." 57 " No matter, I love exploring;" and Julia obeyed. They found Miss Bright- wen there, not a little astonished at sight of the young and noble visitor. "How is this, Miss Villeroy ; our room is not worthy to admit such company ! " she ex- claimed. " It is not worthy of such occupants," replied Lady Helena. " But which is your own chamber, Julia?" " Oh ! we have but one chamber, and this is our sitting-room." " What! have you not a bed to your- self?— But no, I dare say not, one pair of sheets cost less than two, and economy is a virtue." At this strange speech, from such a person, Julia, not seeing its drift, looked suprised ; but Miss Brightwen, thrown off her guard, by the archness of the look which accompanied it, and by the ludicrous and exact knowledge of Lady Villeroy's chamber, which it contained, gave way to laughter, which she vainly turned away to D 6' 58 hide. Lady Helena instantly seized her hand, exclaiming — " Miss Brightwen, I came hither prepared to hate you, but I see that I shall doat upon you, for I find that you can laugh and cry too, and I am sure you love that little girl, and but hush! even truth must not be spoken at all times." " Certainly not," replied Miss Bright- wen, significantly, " but I am very glad that your ladyship parts with hatred so easily." " Not all hatreds, Miss Brightwen." " Dear me, how could you or any one think of hating poor, dear Miss Bright- wen?" cried Julia, fondly throwing her arms round her. " Nobody that knows her would, 1 am sure." "And why do you call me little Lady Helena, I am as tall as you ?" " Taller, my dear, but I call every thing little that I love." " And do you love me ? — how kind ; grateful little soul ; but tell me why have 59 you not this large room to sit in ?" throw- ing open a door as she spoke. " Oh, that is the nursery." u Nursery ! what for your boys and girls, Julia, when you marry ?" " No; for my brothers and sisters." " And pray where are they, my dear T f No where at present ; but we live in expectations of them," said Miss Bright- wen, smiling. " What — really— is there one in the way ?" " No, certainly not ; but who knows what may happen, and it is right to be prepared with a room for the reception of expected guests. " Admirable!" cried Lady Helena, turning round on her toe, and making numberless pirouettes round the room as she always did when any thing amused or delighted her ; " and so in the mean time you, my dear Julia, are to be suffocated in a little nut-shell of a room; surely you might occupy this till the brats come." 60 " Oh ! we do walk in it sometimes, and look out of the window." " Really ; what noble daring ! " " Yes, but mamma — " "Julia, if ever you call that woman mamma in my presence, I — Julia! I can- not bear it ; I knew and loved your own real mamma, and you surely must have strangely forgotten her to be always cal- ling Lady Villeroy by that sacred name." " Forgotten my own dear mother ! no, indeed, Lady Helena, but papa desired me to call her so, and you know I ought to obey him." " Yes, but do not do it in my presence if you can avoid it. What an odious glass, it is not big enough for a doll to dress by," said Lady Helena, pettishly, as she turned one of her fine dark curls round her fin- gers — what a set out for an heiress! — oh, how I hate " Here Lady Helena's eye met the frowning brow of Miss Bright- wen, whose awe of rank was very inferior to her sense of right, and who would not 61 allow any one to speak disrespectfully of Lady Villeroy in her presence, or that of her daughter-in-law. Lady Helena under- stood and obeyed the reproof, and re- spected the reprover, but she indulged herself in sundry grimaces, expressive of her wonder— an indignation at the appearance of the apartments — and then taking Miss Brightwen's arm she insisted on her returning to the drawing-room to give her one of her reproving looks when- ever she was inclined to behave ill ; and she made her re-appearance still leaning on her arm. Lady Villeroy beheld, with frowning surprise, Lady Helena's familiarity with a person whom she herself always kept at, what she called, a proper distance; and the sight did not help to soothe the irritation of her temper, which had been considerably ruffled by the praises Lord Erpingham had bestowed not only on the beauty of Julia's countenance, but on the fine face and distinguished appearance of her governess — two beings whose personal characters she had always looked upon 62 with contempt, and as unlikely to attract tne observation, much less the admiration of such a connoissieur in beauty as Lord Erpingham; and I believe there is no severer pang can be inflicted on a woman of great personal pretensions, and still greater vanity, especially if in the wane of her beauty, than to hear encomiums on tte personal charms of those whom she has always considered as inferior to her- self — no matter how near the person so applauded, whether it be a sister, a niece, or even a daughter ; indeed the more fre- quent and immediate the competition, the greater is the jealousy, and often the dis- like ; nor could she entirely restrain and conceal her feelings, for, with a tone of pique, she said, " I see that your ladyship soon makes acquaintance — I believe you never saw Julia's governess before." " No, madam," she replied, " never ; but as there is often love at first sight,) why not friendship at first sight ? — I think this lady capable of inspiring it." ■ " Dear ! how romantic Lady Hettna ! 63 I think you do Miss Brightwen a great deal of honor." Lady Helena was going to answer her, and, perhaps, in no conciliating manner, had she not been interrupted by Julia's approaching her with an eager and blush- ing countenance, as if she had something very interesting and important to say to her, but her courage failed her; she then put her arm through Lady He- lena's, who allowed her to lead her to a seat; Julia wanted to say, " Then do you believe in love at first sight?" — but her conscious heart restrained the tell-tale question, and when 6he heard her mother- in-law's " how romantic," she was very glad that she had not spoken. Sir George now asked if Lady Villeroy had not ordered refreshments. " To be sure I have," she replied, in no gentle tone ; and the butler at that mo- ment made his appearance with chocolate and its appurtenances. <*None for me," said Lady Helena; but she eagerly seized on some of the 64 slender pieces of toasted bread, and ate them with strong marks of hunger. Lord Erpingham also refused the chocolate, but took the cake which accompanied it. To Miss Brightwen and Julia nothing was handed; but the servant having offered it to his mistress, set the tray on the table. " You have no chocolate, madam," said Lord Erpingham, kindly, who had seen with generous indignation the neglect of the servant, which he attributed to the mistress ; " will you allow me to offer you some ?" taking a cup as he spoke. " Miss Brightwen is bilious, my lord, she must not drink chocolate," said Lady Villeroy hastily; and Sophia, thanking him more by a look than by words, de- clined the offered cup. Sir George who had seen, with mortifi- cation and surprise, chocolate enter when he expected a substantial luncheon for persons who had travelled thirty miles, now rose, and hobbled towards Lady Villeroy ; " Why did you not order — " was all that Lady Helena overheard him say, but she saw 65 that Lady Villeroy resisted his proposal, whatever it was. The keenly-feeling girl could no longer restrain her indignant impertinence ; but, giving her father a look which made him almost tremble for the consequences, Lady Helena said to the butler, as he was leaving the room, " I will trouble you to bring me some Madeira and water." The poor man, with a look of alarm, bowed, and looked at his no less alarmed mistress. " There is Madeira in the cellaret," she replied. " Yes, my lady, but — " " I know what I say," she angrily an- swered, and the man disappeared. " Have you nothing better to give Lady Helena than dry bread," cried Sir George, " to eat with her wine, Lady Villeroy?" " My dear girl, I hope you will call for what you like, and consider yourself as quite at home." " Helena has proved that she thinks 66 herself quite at home by asking for Madeira, Sir George. Had I supposed that so young a lady drank wine in the morning, I would have ordered it, Sir George." " Well, but neither Lord Erpingham nor I are young ladies, and — " " You drink Madeira in the morning ! Sir George; you know it would kill you." Here the entrance of the wine inter- rupted her. Lady Helena poured out half a glass, but, on tasting it, she set it down again coldly, observing, " That she could not drink Cape Madeira," and she saw the butler could scarcely restrain a smile. Lady Villeroy's countenance now be- came crimson with rage, while Lord Erpingham looked reproachfully at his daughter. But Sir George, in a voice tremulous with anger, exclaimed, " What, madam, do you give our noble friends Cape Madeira ! let there be a bottle instantly brought of 67 that which has doubled the Cape, or I will go for it myself." Lady Villeroy, forcing a smile, with livid lips, replied, " Oh, I did not know that it was part of the education of a modern young lady to be learned in wine." She then hastily left the room, followed by the butler. Sir George, however, called him back, and desired to know whether there were no sandwiches to be had ; the man said he would ask his lady, and hastened after her, while Sir George, muttering an oath, threw himself back in his chair in evident discomposure ; and Lady Helena, who en- joyed the storm she had raised, pirouetted about the room ; but she now remembered she had a boon to obtain, and, approach- ing Sir George in her most caressing manner, she begged to speak with him in the next room ; then playfully hanging on his arm, as she led him thither, she whis- pered in his ear her wish to take Julia, her dear Julia, her own dear, blessed, beau- tiful aunt Julia's child home with them ! 68 " That you shall if you wish it/' he replied, brushing a tear from his eye, " though I own I shall miss the poor child very much now ; lately I have seen her more than usual, and she has been very useful to me ; but she shall go, for I know she will be happier away." " Now, there is a dear good uncle Vil- leroy," cried Lady Helena, patting his cheek ; " so all is settled." " No, my dear, no — you must ask Lady Villeroy's consent also." f Certainly, if you desire it." " Oh, you have obliged me beyond measure." " Yes ; but if Lady Villeroy cannot spare her." " Oh, you will find her very willing to spare her, believe me," she replied with a meaning nod of her head ; and Lady He- lena returned, gambolling before him like a kitten. Lady Villeroy now re-entered, pre- ceded by the Madeira and a tray of sand- wiches, on which Lady Helena seized with 69 well acted voracity. " Now, I will tell you, Lady Villeroy," said she laughing, "that I would not let papa order any luncheon on the road, though we did not order dinner at Mivart's hotel till seven, because I expected we should get here just at your hot luncheon time." " Hot luncheon ! dear me, we never have such unwholesome things, and we dine at five." " We did not know that ; so, when we came, and instead of being summoned to a hearty meal, I beheld milk chocolate! all my milk of human kindness turned to gall, Lady Villeroy ; and I called aloud for Madeira and water, as papa would not,— but then papa is of the old school, I of the new ; and when one is where one knows one is welcome, I think it is more polite to give trouble than for- bear." A stiff inclination of her head was all Lady Villeroy's reply to this speech, for her attention was now painfully attracted 70 to Sir George, who, having tasted the wine to be sure it was right, had filled a bumper and drank it off. Lady Helena, who, in reality, did not want wine, drank a small quantity only, watching Lady Vil- leroy's countenance all the time, who was observing her father's movements, for he was pouring out a glass which he offered to Miss Brightwen, who accepted it. " Dear me, Miss Brightwen, what are you about ? drink strong wine fasting ; for shame !" cried Lady Villeroy. " I am not fasting, madam : I have eaten a sandwich, and I am ordered to drink a little Madeira every day, and I do drink it." " Ordered, by whom ?" " By my physician, madam." " Indeed ! an expensive remedy ; pray where do you get it, and how can you afford it ?" " I buy it for myself; and I must con- trive to afford it as my health requires it, madam." " Buy it for yourself! in my house, Miss Brightwen," cried Sir George ; "Lady Villeroy, why is this ?" " There was no agreement for any wine when Miss Brightwen came hither, Sir George, and no governess can expect Madeira." rt But I expect, in future, Miss Bright- wen should have Madeira for her own use, madam." " Brightwen ! Brightwen did you say ?" said Lord Erpingham, " the name is fami- liar to me ; I once knew a Mr. Brightwen in Norfolk, is he — * " He is my father, sir," replied Sophia with great emotion. " Your father ! madam, and yet I see you here." " Yes, sir, misfortune, and — " « Forgive me, dear Miss Brightwen ; but think of my surprise! when I saw him he lived on his own estate in Norfolk, and I was much indebted to him for his hospitality, and for some days pleasant shooting. Do tell me if — " and he took 72 her hand; as he spoke, so kindly, and his voice betrayed such interest, that poor Sophia's full heart could not bear it, and, bursting into tears, she rose to leave the room ; as she did so, she heard a mut- tered " what fine feelings ! " from Lady Villeroy, but she was made ample amends by Lady Helena's running to open the door for her, and grasping her hand affec- tionately as she passed her ; poor Julia meanwhile sat even more on the edge of her chair than usual, and was uncon- sciously pulling the oft-mended ends of her gloves to pieces, from violent emo- tion. " Julia, my dear," said Sir George, " I feel ashamed to think I know so little of Miss Brightwen's history, you, no doubt, can tell us the whole of it." " Oh yes, papa ; poor Mr. Brightwen was very generous, and so was his first wife, so they lived very hospitably." " That is, they were extravagant, and made away with their fortune," said Lady Villeroy pettishly. 73 " Yes, mamma, I fear it was ; and then poor Mrs. Brightwen pined and died ; and then, and then—" here Julia paused and blushed. " Well, what then, my dear?" said Sir George. " Why, then Mr. Brightwen married a rich old woman for money." " Poor man !" cried Lady Helena. " Well, but then he became rich again ; therefore, why was Miss Brightwen al- lowed to go out as governess ?" " Oh, because he went into business, and was almost ruined again; his new wife's temper was so bad, and she was so miserly, the children could not live at home, and were forced to go out." " Poor things ! no uncommon case I believe," said Lady Helena. " I fear not," observed Lord Erping- ham, who had been amused, yet pained by Julia's hesitation, and by the similarity of Miss Brightwen's situation to her own — but afraid lest Lady Villeroy should apply to herself his saucy daughter's words and VOL. I. e 74 exclamations, he added, bowing to Lady Villeroy, u all mother's-in-law do not re- semble some of my acquaintance." The lady smiled at this implied compli- ment, as she considered it, and was about to speak when Julia hurried across the room. " Whither are you going, child ?" said she. " I wish to go and see how Miss Brightwen is, mamma." u That is kind, my dear girl," said Sir George. " Do go ; Miss Brightwen deserves that attention from you ; and here, carry her another glass of Madeira — stay, take the whole bottle, if our visitors drink no more." " They cannot now, Sir George ; they cannot, as Miss Brightwen is to have it." " They know I could order more for Miss Brightwen, I trust, Lady Villeroy ; and I am sure they do me the justice of believing, they are welcome to all the wine in my cellar." " Certainly we do ; but it is not for the 75 wine in your cellar that we are come," re- plied Lord Erpingham, eager to change the discourse, " but to rob you of some- thing far more precious ; — we come, with Lady Villeroy's permission, to take Miss Villeroy back with us ; can we prevail on you madam to part with her V A sudden gleam of pleasure was now so visible in Lady Villeroy's face, that Lady Helena saw the point was gained, and bounding towards her with every fine fea- ture full of joyful expression, she ex- claimed, " I thank you — that countenance, kin- der than your tongue, to my impatience, tells me you consent !" If Lady Helena had said, ' your countenance, instead of that,' Lady Villeroy would not have smiled so benignantly as she did, while pronouncing, " Certainly I consent to part with Julia if her father be equally willing ;" for that seemed to stand for expressive, fine, speak- ing, in short, for all the epithets which she had ever heard applied to a countenance, and which Lady Helena's own eyes, beam- 76 ing with complacency, seemed to see, while she looked impatiently in her face. The only objection, she added, was the state of Julia's wardrobe — and there being no time to re- plenish it, as her departure was to take place so soon. To this Lady Helena's reply was ready and was satisfactory also ; a reply uttered with an arch smile at the corners of her mouth, and a meaning glance at Lord Erpingham, who now began to speak of the necessary arrangements for the morrow, and said that there was room for Miss Villeroy's maid on the barouche seat by Lady Helena's. " Julia has no maid," replied Lady Villeroy, bluntly ; " she has been brought up to wait on herself my lord ! whatever assistance she wanted, she has always received from Miss Brightwen." " Then it will be the more necessary that young lady should accompany her, and I was just going to request the com- pany of Miss Brightwen, to whom I should be most happy to have an opportunity of repaying the attentions I received from her ather." 77 " Oh, my dear, sweet papa !" exclaimed Lady Helena, how you have delighted me ! I was wishing to request this additional favor. " Aye," cried Sir " George, the poor thing is not well, and change of air may do her good as well as Julia : Pray, Lady Villeroy, spare Miss Brightwen." The brow of Lady Villeroy now looked dark with storms. This attention shown by Lord Erpingham to a being whom she had always treated with neglect ; the admiration which he evidently felt for a woman whom she had considered as inca- pable of inspiring it, were wormwood to her self-love ; besides, she wanted Miss Brightwen's assistance in finishing a carpet, and in mending clothes and other notable jobs ; and she uttered a most decided no, in no very complacent tone of voice. Lady Helena was about to argue the point with her, when a look from her father checked her, and at this moment Julia and Miss Brightwen re-entered the room. Lady Helena instantly made known the 7S permission granted to the surprised and delighted Julia ; but when she added that, to the great disappointment of Lord Erpingham and herself, Miss Brightwen could not be permitted to accompany her, Julia's countenance changed, and a tear started to her eye, while she turned round and looked sorrowfully at her gentle and resigned friend ; the look was con- tagious. Miss Brightwen again suddenly quitted the room. " Sure," cried Lady Villeroy, sarcasti- cally, * that girl's sensibility is quite nau- seous !" " Stay where you are Julia," she added, seeing her hand was on the door, " you seem to forget that our noble guests have the first claims on your notice and at- tention." " That I beg leave to deny," cried Lady Helena, " such a friend as Miss Brightwen has the first claim on my cousin Julia's attention, especially when she is sick and sorrowful." " Cousin Julia !" cried Lady Villeroy 79 with a sneer, " really, Lady Helena, one would suppose you were a quaker, for quakers always call cousin, even where there is no relationship at all." " Do they ! I am so glad ! for they are dear, good people I am told, and Mrs. Fry is a quaker you know." " Mrs. Fry ! that shocking woman who is so fond of bad company and bad people ; she goes to Newgate every day and wants to prevent their being hanged ! well, I am sure I should be very sorry to be like her in any thing." " It is not easy to resemble her, Lady Villeroy — but, as you say she is a shocking woman to be so fond of associating with bad people, and merely in order to try to make them good, and then to suppose, poor mistaken woman ! that they have souls to be saved like herself, and souls worth saving !" " Aye, souls worth saving ! that is a mistake indeed," said Lady Villeroy, not comprehending the irony, though a little apprehensive that Lady Helena was laugh- 80 ing at her ; but a frown from Lord Erpingham again checked Lady Helena, and the conversation was entirely put an end to by Sir George's pausing in his walk from one drawing-room to the other, and again requesting that Miss Brightwen might accompany Julia. But the no was even more violently pronounced than before, and Lady Helena seeing that Julia's heart was full, kindly said, she wished to speak with her, and led her out of the room. They then hastened to Julia's apartment, and while Julia wept on Miss Brightwen's shoulder, Lady Helena indulged herself with many half uttered, half murmured exclamations against cun- ning, tyrannical, half bred women, and maratres ; which Miss Brightwen was now too sorrowful and dispirited to notice or reprove ; still she was glad, very glad that Julia was going to be where she could not fail to be happy ; but to have accom- panied her, would have made her as happy herself as she now could be ; and to see happiness within her reach, yet not be able to grasp it! but Sophia was soon ashamed of giving way to the weakness of unavailing regret, and her dark expressive eye, freed from its tears, was soon able to reprove the daring sallies of Lady Helena against the sacred majesty of Julia's mo- ther-in-law. To be brief, the noble tra- vellers soon after departed to their hotel, leaving Lady Villeroy delighted to get rid of them, as she feared every moment Sir George's rash and desperate hospitality should urge him to insist on their staying to partake of the fare, which, with no savoury smell, was on the point of being served up. But Sir George felt no sympathy with her delight — with him mortified feelings alone reigned trium- phant. He had not been allowed the enjoyment of his noble friend's company at d.nner, nor to entertain him in the stile to which he had been accustomed — a stile worthy of Lord Erpingham's rank and his own. Then, his daughter, his heiress was not to have a maid of her own to wait on her, and she was denied the company e .5 82 and assistance of her dear, kind, young friend and intelligent adviser. It was not to be wondered at, therefore, that Sir George scarcely ate at dinner, and that he doubled his quantity of wine after it, now that he exhibited a degree of rebellion to Lady Villeroy's authority, which, till then, she had believed to be impossible, and which alarmed her for the continuance of her conjugal dominion. No sooner had Julia made her appear- ance with the dessert, than Sir George de- sired her to go back for Miss Brightwen ; Julia eagerly obeyed the command, but Lady Villeroy, with a faltering voice, begged to know what he wanted with Miss Brightwen. " I want her, madam," he replied, " to drink a glass of Madeira with me; I bit- terly repent I never paid that deserving and unfortunate young lady proper res- pect before." " Why, Sir George, you are doting surely — respect to your daughter's gover- ness!" 83 " And why not ? — if I do not pay her respect myself, how can I expect my daughter should respect her? besides, Lady Villeroy, as Lord Erpingham says, she is a very handsome woman, and beauty in distress is a very engaging thing, Lady Villeroy." " Lord Erpingham is a fool," cried Lady Villeroy, enraged beyond all res- traint, " and the proverb says ' one fool makes many,' Sir George." Miss Brightwen's entrance prevented Sir George's reply, who, in order to make more than sufficient amends for his past neglect, advanced to meet the astonished Sophia, and taking her by the hand, led her to a seat beside him ; then asking her what she would eat, put some dried-up raisins and an old sugar-cake on her plate ; but on tasting the same himself he muttered a sort of an oath, and hastily ringing the bell, desired the butler to take away the trash he had brought, and get a proper dessert for a gentleman's table at the nearest shop. 84 The man secretly delighted at what he heard, with an ill-suppressed grin pre- pared to obey, but Lady Villeroy com- manded him to desist, and in a voice choked with passion, desired to know why the dessert was not as good to day as yes- terday — and why, what was good enough for her and him was not good enough for Miss Brightwen ? " Because, madam, the dessert has been good enough in your eyes for a succession of yesterdays and to-days it is a faded beauty now, Lady Villeroy, and I like something new and pretty, as well as good, like Miss Brightwen herself, so come, you, sir — come you grinning jackanapes! — clear the table, and cover it again as it ought to be covered." The man obeyed with alacrity, and un- interrupted, for his lady was too full of consternation and of misery, I may say, to make any further resistance ; for there cannot be a more agonizing pang in the catalogue of woman's trials, than to see and hear a man, whom she has considered S5 as wholly devoted to herself, express ad- miration of youthful beauty ; wherefore, she is conscious of the decline of her own charms, and, therefore, seems threatened with the loss of her sovereignty. Even Lady Villeroy's avarice was subdued by this apprehension; and when the butler returned with ices, as well as cakes and fruit, she was not provoked to utter a single angry animadversion, but she sat in silent anxiety, regarding, with a watchful and jealous eye, Sir George's conduct to- wards Sophia and Julia ; the latter he had seated on his lap, and was kindly pressing her to his heart, ever and anon, while he occasionally took Miss Brightwen's hand, and urged her to eat, in a voice which was full of tenderness and kindness. What! two rivals, at once, started up to overset her empire ! it was too much, and she began to repent of not having consented to let Miss Brightwen accompany her pupil to Lord Erpingham's. Sir George meanwhile continued to press his young companions to eat and 86 drink, and offering an ice to his lady, sarcas- tically observed, " You had better take it Lady Villeroy, for ice, you know, cannot be served up a second time." Had she been only angry, the chances are that Lady Villeroy would have forcibly resisted ac- cepting the offered favor at the risk of in- juring her carpet; but her anger was mixed with so much agony that she only refused what was offered to her with a faintly uttered negative, and continued to beat, what is vulgarly called, the devil's tattoo with her feet. st My dear Miss Bright wen," said Sir George, " I know not how I shall bear to part with this dear girl, now I have learned to feel her real value," and as he spoke he took Julia on his knee again ; " this living image of — " here he paused, as if in strong emotion, and filled another bumper; f( but I hope you will be so kind as to look in upon me, now and then, in her absence. I was sorry that you could not be spared, but now, I am selfish enough to rejoice that you remain with us, and 87 when Lady Villeroy goes out, I trust, you will come and enliven my solitude." " Certainly, sir, if you wish it." " Oh, dear, yes !" " Pray do, Miss Brightwen ; and, papa, make her read to you — she reads so beau- tifully!" " Indeed ! an excellent accomplishment in a woman ; — really, Miss Brightwen, I am quite sorry I have hitherto seen so little of you, and paid you so little atten- tion ; but in future I will make the most of the domestic comfort, which is, I find, within my reach: my dear girl, here is your father's health — poor man ! he is, I think you said, Julia, very much to be pitied. In what way, my dear, is he so af- flicted?" Both Miss Brightwen and Julia were too painfully conscious to be able to an- swer this question, and their embarrass- ment was so visible to Lady Villeroy, and the cause so painfully obvious also, that she could not keep her seat, but darting 88 an angry glance at her, she suddenly left the room, firmly resolving that if Sir George, who was now, she flattered her- self, under the influence of wine, should be as fond of Sophia's company the next day as he was then, she should, at all events, be gotten rid of for some time. Sir George, who from a feeling of vin- dictive mortification, had struggled with sleep, in order to pique his offending wife, had no longer a sufficient motive to con- tinue his efforts, but gently releasing Julia from his arms, he prepared himself for his usual repose, and Sophia and her pupil returned to their apartment. " Oh, how kind my dear papa is grown! " cried Julia, as they went along; " I shall now be so sorry to leave him ; I do hope you will be very, very kind to him in my absence; but then, I shall be sorry to leave you too. Dear me ! — well, to be sure, there is no unmixed good in this world — is there Miss Brightwen ? " " No, Julia, certainly not ; if there 89 were, how few of us would think of another and a better world! " The rest of the evening was passed by them in praises of Lady Helena and Lord Erpingham, and in preparations for the morrow; by Sir George, in alternate sleep and uncomfortable musings ; and by Lady Villeroy, in an indefatigable application to her needle, while her heart was swelling with secret rage, and fears of evil to come, certain, but as yet undefined to her imagi- nation. CHAP. IV. The morning came, and, terrible confir- mation of her worst forebodings, Sir George, though no longer under the influ- ence of wine, insisted on the company of Miss Brightwen at the breakfast, table. Had Lady Helena been his instigator, in order to gain Miss Brightwen as her guest, he could not have pursued a more certain way of obtaining the end in view. Long before Sophia had eaten the egg, which he forced her to take, Lady Villeroy had said within herself, " she shall accompany Julia !" but she did not make known her determi- nation, as she feared Sir George might now oppose it, from aversion, to part with his new flame, as jealousy styled Sophia. Nor did she mention it till there was only just time for her to get ready against the appointed hour; but scarcely could she do so, for Julia was in such an ecstacy of 91 delight at the idea of not being separated from her, that she was incapable of ren- dering her any assistance, till Sophia, in order to soberise her joy, reminded her how much her poor father would miss her society ; then the ready tear succeeded the as ready smile, and she was enabled to be useful. At length the expected barouche was seen driving up to the door, and Julia and Sophia entered the drawing-room equipped for the journey. Julia's dress consisted of a straw bonnet, rather pinched up in front, by the frequent struggle which, during many a winter, it had gone through with the uncourteous wind, and of a dark cloth pelisse, the arms of which were too short for the wearer, while the cuffs were turned up with a skin that once had been covered with hair of some animal, but now only patches remained unimpaired, to shew the enquiring naturalist to what species it be- longed. Sir George's now observant eye in- stantly discovered the shabbiness of her 9 ( 2 appearance, and he turned his blushing daughter round, examining her dress with indignant surprise ; as he did so, his eye glanced on Miss Brightwen, and he de- sired to know whither she was going in her neat and pretty attire ; and when he heard she too was going to leave him, he expressed his regret so loudly, that Lady Villeroy was impatient till she was fairly seated in the carriage, and removed from his sight. To his reproaches concerning the shab- biness of Julia's dress, she had, she thought, a sufficient satisfactory answer : i