)^ ^ H jiiar J^,Ma r> ?, naMa'i aivd short-sighted beings that we are ! how soon are hope, health, and^ spirits immersed for- ever in a cold and- watery grave 1 no, not for ever!" and^ her step became firmer ; " hope and im^ m;ortal health jTor eraer hloom in paradise. Oh, God of mercy and of love ! into thy haven of eternal rest receive these ship- wrecked mariners/* Anxious to know something, further relative to this unfortunate couple, Mrs. Elwyn SUBSTASXE AND SHADOW. M Elwyn soon obtained a direction to their late residence ; it was a neat but humble oabin^ near the seaside, about a mile from the town. A woman, between fifty and sixty years of age, was sitting by a fire, and rocking a cradle, which con- tained two sleeping infants. Mrs. El- wyn spoke to the woman in a voice of eager inquiry — " Whose are these chil- dren ?" " Oh, madam ! what, you have not heard then that these two dear babies have lost both father and mother since yesternoon; poor babies, worse luck for ^cm !" Mrs. Elwyn *s eyes filled with tears — ^' Poor infants!" cried she, as she hung over them. " Aye, poor things,'' returned the old ',voman; '' I little thought when Kitty b6 Ellis 12 SUBSTANCE AND SHADO\^. Ellis sent for me yesterday, to take care of 'em, that I should never she more ; and here I tossed up a bit of supper for James and she, and I put it all in order, and I waited, and waited, and between every clap of thunder I listened for James*s whistle, for he was a main man for singing and whistling on shore ; but law bless us all, I could hear nothing for the roaring of the waves, 'Twas past twelve o'clock before I lighted the candle; I saw a winding-sheet in it within two minutes, and that I know'd to be a baddish sort of a sign ; I could have lain a good wager that I should never see 'em more, after my eyes lighted on that ugly sight — oh, 'twas a sure token \'* *' Are you a relation of these pocw: babes?" asked Mrs. Elwyn, still looking with compassion into the cradle, '' Oh SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, IS '* Oh dear, no, madam," said the old woman, '' in all the varsal world, these babies have now no kin or kindred but God. The parish must see to 'em now, and I be only waiting for one of the overseers to come along, to know what 'tis best to do ; for 'tisn't to be sup- posed, or expected, as I can leave my t)wn business to attend to they for no- thing, you know, madam, though I love *em ever so.'* *' Was the poor fisherman born in this place?" " Law, to be sure, madam, he was, in this very house too, for aught I know to the contrary; his father followed the same calling as this James ; he came from Worthing, I have heard tell, and so he married, and got this boy ; and when father and mother died, why James he must 1^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOMT. must be marrying too belike, and so he* took up with Kitty; Kitty was a love* ehild, as w-^s laid at somebody's door here in Brighton. Folks did say that the saddle was put on the right horse's back; howsomdever this ehiid was sent to the parish — the great lord or squire, or what he wa^. set off; and Kitty was a decent sort of girl enough, considering her breeding up, with nobody to care for her, or after her, as it were; and so the long and the short of the matter was, that she was glad e* ough to marry with James Etlis. Poor gir ■, she had not been put to bed of these vo babies more than six weeks, and such i young thing "'twas, and looking so delicate, for she was but about of seventeen years old; and I said to her yesterday — ' Kitty/ says I, * 'tis early times, child, for you SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. tS to venture into the water and the wet/ ^ Molly/ says she, ' James has been all alone with nobody but his own self a longful time, and I am very hearty no-w/< says she ; ' you mind the dear babies^ and I'll lake care of myself;' aiid then; she su *' And shall you implore in vain ? no, helpless being, here shall you have your shelter ever V *' Law, madam, do not please to take i]p the child ; may be as she'll hurt your fine clothes," said the old woman, The lady looked with silent contempt at the cautioner, and turning towards Mrs. Elwyn, she said — '^ Should I not be worse than a barbarian not to claim her as my own ? you who first called forth my feelings for the fate of the poor lost ones, tell me?'' *' This is a case of pitiable distress^ and no common interest," answered Mrs. Elwyn, *[ and I think some means may b€> -» SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. i^ "be adopted to preserve these infants from a parish workhouse/* The stranger almost shrieked at the name of workhouse, and held the child yet closer to her bosom. Several persons, attracted by compas- sion or curiosity, on hearing the event of the preceding night, now gathered round the cottage, to make inquiries^ and to look at the twin-si«ters. Tlic lady* still held the babe, iiiimiDdAil of the observations of the surroiinding specta- tors, and by turns apostrophized, ca- ressed, and bathed it with her teai*s. A subscription was readily made to secure the attendance of the old wo- man, and to prevent the infants from being taken immediately to the poor- house; but the stranger started up, and putting five guineas into the hand of the old 20 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. old woman, she said — '' I do not yield my treasure ; she clings to me for pro- tection, and she shall have it !" and has- tily quitting the house with the infant in her arms, with sylph-like swiftness she moved along the shore. " Who is she ?'* was the general in- quiry; no one could answer it. " She seems to have a 'particular in- terest in that child/' said a sagacious virgin of fifty ; *^ c-ise why not have taken loth ?" ' '' They are equal objects of pity, cer- tainly," said Mrs. Elwyn, her kind heart yearning towards the remaining babe. ^' She must he followed/' said a gen- tleman, who was in the habit of acting as a country justice ; '' for she must give proper security to the parish for the maintenance of the child." 4 i' No, T5UBSTANCE AND SHADOW. SI *^ No, no, it wouldii*t do for her to become troublesome to the parish here- after/' said a man who kept a lodging- house on the Steine, and \vho did not like the idea of an increase in the poor- rates. " The chances are ten to one against its livings if 'twas sent to the workhouse now. No, no, the parish must have security ;*' and off he strided after the lovely enthusiast. '' And now then we shall know who she iS|," said a maiden gentlewoman, lineally descended from mother Eve, " She has been here a week; she dis- charged the servants who came with her, and has hired others, it seems ; but she always walks about alone, and at all times, and at all seasons ; and then she dresses so queerly ; oh, there is certainly something vastly odd about her!'* M ^2 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. As if by general consent, the company now moved oflf, except Mrs. Elwyn, who still cast a lingering look towards the sleeping infant ; the unfeeling speech of the lodging-house man had pierced her heart, and as she quitted the cottage, she said — " Do not suffer that child to go to the workhouse till you hear again from me ; in the mean time, try to get a wet-nurse for it, and for your care and attention I will reward you. Here is my address," putting a card into the hand of the old woman, who, curtseying to the ground, was almost overwhelmed by the strange occurrences of the morning, ;and began to think it was a lucky chance for the twins that their parents had met %vith a watery grave. CHAP, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW- 55 CHAP. IIL -She, frail offspring of an April morn, Poor helpless passenger from love to scorn. Miss AiKiN. Left an orphan at an early age, the care of Clara Elwyn had devolved to a pa- ternal uncle ; his wife was a worthy wo- man, who zealously fulfilled the part of a mother and an instructress ; and the ductile mind of her niece was early im- bued with the principles of religion and virtue; her uncle was equally careful of her pecuniary interests; and at the age of twenty-one she became the nominal mis- tress of two thousands per annum ; we say nominal mistress, because it had long beea 9i SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. teen designed for her cousin, Henry El- wyn, by her prudent uncle. Miss Elwyii had nothing to object to this arrange- ment; she had from infancy associated with Henry Elwyn ; it was highly natu- ral for her uncle to covet such an al- liance for his only son^ and to retain so large a fortune in the familyc The Elwyn estates were entailed, and in case she had died before she came of age, or in the event of her forming another connexion, and dying without children, her cousin Henry would have inherited them ; and under these consi- derations, she almost felt it an act of justice to fulfil her uncle's wishes. There was not an individual in the world whom she preferred to Harry Elwyn, and he had always treated her with affectionate regard. Clara StrBSTAKCB AND SHADOt^. ^^ Clara had lived in retirement with her \incle and aunt, and had seen little of mankind ; her uncle had been averse to her entering into the gay world (as it is called); and cheerful and contented in -disposition^ fend of intellectual pursuits, and feminine avocations, she was well contented to remain with them. Yet she had a heart eminently formed to par- take in all the delights of relative inter- course and domestic happiness ; and shfc frequently wished, as the period ap- proached when she had engaged to give her hand to Elwyn, that he were more i5tationary undet* his father's roof, but for the last twelve months his absences had been very frequent, and much pro^ tracted. Clara allowed it was natural for a young man, in the zenith of life, and blessed with every thing which could VOL. I, c make 26 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. make that life appear enchanting, to be fond of mixed circles, of excursions to the metropolis, and of (what are termed) the pleasures of society; but if his heart .were in the country, would he not feel a tasteless apathy in the pursuit, and hasten with more avidity, and double animation, to his affianced bride ? This was not the case, and those conversations which immediately preceded their mar- riage, and which might have been sup- posed to have contained much confiden- tial communication, much cheerful anti- cipation, and many schemes of youthful ardour, were constrained and confused on the part of Elwyn, and ill calculated to diffuse serenity and confidence on the part of his cousin; yet she blamed her- self for remarking his behaviour; she fancied that she had suffered her imagi- nation STESTAKCE AND SHADOVT. 27 nation to take the lead, and that she was too romantic and too fastidious in ex- pecting such unlimited and such unre- strained attention. The happiness of her uncle and of her aunt depended on her union with their son ; her uncle had never had more than a younger bro- tiier*s fortune, and his generous disposi- tion had prevented him from providing for his son according to his wishes; it became then her duty to give her hand to her cousin, and she hoped that this union would seciire their mutual happi- Kess. The cousins were united, and the strictest propriety and civility marked the conduct of Mr. Elwyn towards his lady. During the first eighteen months sub- sequent to their marriage, the time of c2 the 2S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. the youthful bride was almost exclu- sively devoted to the parents of her husband ; at the end of that period they had both paid the debt of nature ; and though the melancholy scenes she had witnessed had tinged the countenance cf Mrs. Elwyn with a pensive expres* sion, yet the consciousness of having performed her duty afforded her much comfort ; her cares and her attentions would from henceforth entirely devolve on her husband ; and she looked with a sanguine eye through a long perspective of domestic happiness, which, through the favour of Heaven, she hoped to en- joy. Alas ! she was doomed, like mil- lions who had gone before her, to ex- perience the vanity of human wishes ! and yet to common observers, what was there wanting to felicitj ? The SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ^9 The house to which, on the demise of Elwyn's parents, he removed with his wife, was built on her paternal estate, and situated in one of the pleasantest, the richest, and the most populous parts of Gloucestersliire. The mansion was spacious, commodious, and elegant ; the Elwyn family had for centuries been held in general respect ; hence the neigh* bourhood united in shewing attention and civility to our young couple, who moved in that rank of life, which, while it lifted them above the vulgar herd^ en- abled them to keep in the happy sphere of social enjoyment, and did not set them apart from their fellow men, in the solitary gloom of superior eminence™ It was the very sphere where Mrs. El- wyn was peculiarly calculated to shine; and. as the unassuming equal, and this c 3 kind so StTBSTANCE AND SHADOW; kind and unostentatious benefactress, slie was soon estimated according to he? worth. The discernment and anxious scrutiny of Clara too soon enabled her to per- ceive, that where she would have sought the fond confiding friend, she found the cold and heartless husband. Nothing could be more obliging or more atten^ tive than the manner and behaviour of Elvvyn, yet nothing could be farther re- moved from that connubial tenderness, which is better felt than described. In any plan of benefiting the tenantry or the poor, which the active mind of Clara suggested, his instant concurrence was obtained ; but it seemed as if he took no share in it, as if his heart entered into no scheme of hers ; and frequently was her generous, her disinterested spirii, mortified SITBSTANCE AND SHADOW^*' 5F mortified by the seeming implication which his manner conveyed, that it was^ 7z^r fortune, and she had a right to dis- pose of it without his voice. '^ Ah/' thought Clara, *' why not ours? Oh Elwyn, Elwyn, you know not how* the very existence of Clara was blended with that of thine, when she became a wife ! Jean have no divided interest 1'* Mrs. Elwyn had a great mind, and though endued with much sensibility, yet that softer feeling of her nature had been corrected and restrained by a pro- per sense of religion. The most unde- viating, the most uncomplaining sweet- ness, marked her whole deportment towards her husband ; his smile of for-» mal complaisance was always answered by one of affection from her, his courteous speech returned warm from c 4 the 5^ SUBSTANCE AND SUADQW. the heart ; if he seemed melancholy^ she tried every art to enliven him, with- out appearing to have noticed it ; if she failed, and he retired (which was not unnsnal) to the solitude of his library, she forbore to intrude upon his privacy ; but by immediate and active employ- ment^ tried to dissipate her own unplea- sant retrospections and anticipations*- When Elwyn received letters, she nev^er seemed anxious to gain a knowledge of their contents; if he pleaded business and quitted hoiTve, she never asked the nature of it, but anxiously awaited his return, and received him with smiles^ which often shone through tears, bright as. the crystal showers of April. If we should say that Mrs. Elwyn had Bo painful curiosity on the subject of EI- wyn's strange and mysterious reserves, we should SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 33 should be accused (and with great jus- tice too) of drawing an Utopian cha- racter; that she had was certain; but gloomy suspicion never gained an in- terest in her pure and liberal mind,^ She remembered Harry Elwyn v/Iien a boy, gay, ingenuous, and open ; she saW and lamented the change, and willing to divine the cause, and after the mi- nutest scrutiny, unable to lay any fault to her own charge, in her conduct and deportment towards a husband whom she loved (in the midst of all his reserves, of all his concealments), with warm af- fection, she at length resolved it inta his anxiety for a family, and in conse- quence her own wishes of becoming a: parent were doubly sanguine. Poor Clara forgot (or tried to forget) c 5> that: 34 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. that the gloomy reserve of EIw} n had taken place prior to his marriage, and that when he led her to the hymeneal altar a blooming blushing bride, bis counte- nance had exhibited more of the character of a devoted victim than of a triumphant bridegroom ; but the bloom of Clara's cheek was faded^ the roundness of her form was wasted, she had no prospect of presenting her husband with an in- fant cement of affection, and her health evidently declined. In compliance with the advrce of her physician, she had for several succe^ive summers journeyed to the sea,* Mr. E!^ wyn had been eager for the adoption o£ this plan, had been strenuous in per- suading her to go, but he had invariably pleaded business; and after escorting SUBSTANCE AND SHADOTT. 35 her, with great attention and care, to some watering-placC;, and seen her set- lied in lodgings, he had quitted her. Mrs. Elwyn's letters to her husband during these (on her part) forced sepa*- rations, had been written in a style of confidential freedom; she had no re- serves with him, and she communicated all she saw, and all she thought ; and having a lively imagination, and being gifted with a facility of expression, hey letters were calculated to gire pleasure and satisfaction even to an indiiferenl reader ; by Mr. Elwyn they were regu- larly answered. In his manner of addressing his wife, there [appeared a mixture of respectful politeness and gallantry ; in answer tx> her communkations, he always tald hen of the journeys he had been ^^king; but i . ' c a fif Z6 StTBSTANCB AND SHADOW. of the people whom he had seen, andaf the incidents which had taken place, he was wholly silent. The knowledge of acting in confior- mity with principle, duty, and religion, will support the mind when every earthly hope fails; but human nature will ebb, and recoil back on itself, in sustaining such a conflict as that which had so long torn the mind of Mrs. El* wyn. She now almost despaired of ever pos-r sessing her hiisband^s confidence, or of experiencing that connubial happiness on which her early visions fondly float* cd ; and she now turned towards the idea of a child, whose infantile caresses might fill the void in her heart, and brighten her future days with the pure enjoyment- of maternri tenderness; but this wish had SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 37 had been denied to her; and in worse health than she had ever known, she had sought Brighthelmstone for the fourth summer, when we introduced her to our readers, standing on the beach, and so anxiously feeling for two fellow-beings-, whom she knew to be in danger. CHAP. 38 SUBSTANCE AND SHAIJOVr. CHAP. IV. Careless and cold, he views the beauteous mind. For virtue, bliss, etenuty design' d. Miss AiKEN* RETURNiNa from the cottage so recently inhabited by the poor fisherman to her own lodgings, Mrs. Elwyn revolved over the idea of taking the remaining orphan under her protection. Surely it would be an act of benevolence, and pleasing ta the Most High ; at the same time that it would afford the supremest gratification to her own heart; her fortune was amply sufficient to enable her to follow the dictates of her generosity ; but she did not consider it as her own ; she had never considered SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. 50 considered or used it as such, since she had become a wife ; and she sat down to ask her husband's sanction and concur- rence, ere she ventured a step further in the business. "Alas'/* sighed the tearful Claray *' the woi*st of it is, this will be a mere form ; I shall receive from Elwyn a tame concurrence; he will sanction every wish, he will conform to every proposi- tion that I shall make ; I never yet could be assured that I got the assent of his judgment^ or the concurrence of his heart." After simply, but affectingly detailing the direful tempest of the preceding nigh4^ and naturally blending with it a descrip- tion of her own feelings, at learning the untimely and disastrous fate of the young couple^ for whom she had been so pain^ fully 40' SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. fully interested, she recounted her visit to the cabin which contained the hapless little orphans^ together with the imme- diate adoption of one of them by the strange lady. She thus continued — " My dear Elwyn will have guessed my wishes by the length of this detail, yet while I fearlessly avow them, I await his decision* I confess it would be to me a most grate- ful office to become the protectress of this poor babe, and, in some sort, to be to her a parent. Yet, mistake me not; I do not mean to adopt her into your fa- mily, or foolishly to squander your for- tune ; if I take her under my care, I will do my duty by her, and forget not what I owe to myself. If Providence blesses my endeavours, and she turns out a tractable and a well-disposed child, I may have the satisfaction of introducing a useful SUBSTANCE AND SHA DOW. 4 1 useful member to society. Pray tell me^ my dear husband, what you think of my plan ; for be assured, that my enthusiasm in the cause of this desolate babe would all be quelled^ were you to start the sha- dow of an objection, while it would glow %vith double fervour if it met with your approval/' Such was part of the letter, which was thus answered by Mr. Elwyn :— *^ MY JiEAR MAPAM, Elwya Hall, August :0. " I am hurt that you should think it necessary to apply for my assents in following the pure dictates of your, benevolent heart. Never have I yet op- posed yoiir wishes, and in this case, mreljj I must be the most unfeeling of jnen to start an objection. You have ai\ ample 4*2 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ample fortune, and in permitting me to share it with you, I hope you will never find that I wish to lay any embargo on your liberal spirit. On the present occa- sion, we seem to be actuated by similar feelings ; for, strange as it may appear, just at the moment when I had the fa- vour of your letter, I was meditating an address to you on the subject of a little stranger, whom I am about to ask your permission to introduce to Elwyn Hall. Many persons in my situation would he- sitate to ask such a boon, but I have too long experienced the disinterestedness of my dear friend, to hesitate on the present occasion. My friend Belford is dead, and a boy of about six years of age pleads for my protection. I cannot re- sist the appeal, and our mutual feelings, must be our mutual excuse, for the in- troductiot^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 43 troduction of our respective 'prGtegies. Our circle will be enlarged by their ap- pearance amongst us, and our enjoy- ments will be enlarged also. Whether we call them children of our adoption, or by whatever name they may be dis- tinguished, yet if they grow round our hearts, and become part of our very selves, who shall condemn us, or (erin it squandering a fortune to let themi share it with us ? Be assured, my dearest madam, that I shall receive great satis- faction in seeing you return to the Hall; accompanied by your little foundling ; and, feeling assured of your permission for so doing, I shall appear to greet your arrival with Harry Belford in my hand. *' With most cordial wishes for the en- tire re-establishment of your valuably healtl^ 44 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. health, believe me to remain, with un- feigned regard, " Your much obliged friend, " HsNRY ElWYn/* Several combining emotions were felt by Mrs. Elwyn as she perused this letter; the usual constrained style of her hus- band was evident, till he came to the part of it which concerned the two children ; here the warmth of his natural disposi^ lion had forcibly intruded itself, and she could not help fancying that she per- ceived, in the ardour of his expressions, the mortification which he still felt at not having a son of his own ; and to hisi disappointment in this respect, she in part attributed his eager adoption of the child of his friend. Thus. SUBSTANCE AIJD SHADOW. 45 *' Thus are even our trials and bitter disappointments productive of good/^ thought Mrs. El wy n ; '' had Mr. Elvvyn had a son of his own, he might have steeled his heart to the claims of friendship; in receiving the innocent endearments of my own offspring, I might have been impervious to the call of humanity." Bel ford was a name that Mrs. Elwyn had never remembered to have heard, as that of a friend of her husband's, or of the Elwyn family ; but with regard to his own friendships, Elvvyn had been uniformly reserved towards her; and it would almost have been a subject of sur- prise had she known the name of Bel- ford, as she was a stranger to that of all his distant acquaintances. Mrs. Elwyn answered her husband's letter, in that prompt and ready manner which 45 STJBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. tvhich instantaneously proved to him that Master Bel ford would from henceforth have two friends at the Hall ; and having procured a wet-nurse for her little pro- tegee, Mrs. Elwyn employed herself, during the remaining period of her stay at Brighton, in providing clothes of more decent appearance than those she had hitherto worn, for the babe, previous to her introduction to Mr. Elwyn. In the mean time, she had learnt that the strange lady, on being followed to her lodgings by the parish officers, with an inquiry concerning v^hat she meant to do with the infant which she hadtaken» away, had declared her intention of pro- viding and educating it wholly at her own expence ; and being asked to give her address, and a reference, in order to certify SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW^ AT certify to the parish that the child would Jiot become chargeable thereafter, she had ordered them to call again in the morn- ing, promising at that time to give them every necessary information ; but when the morning came, and the overseers at- tended according to the lady's appoint- ment, they were informed, that together with the infant and a female servant, whom she had hired to attend it, she had Jcft Brighton the preceding evening in a chaise and four. The certain expence of following her, and the possibility of a vain pursuit, when opposed to the uncertainly of the child's being returned on the parish, as such pains had been taken to carry her off, appeased the minds of the parish of- ficers ; but not so the busy tongue of cu- riosity and scandal ; various were the sur- mises W SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, mises and the conjectures in circulatioii with regard to the fair unknown^ ^vhose extravagant appearance,extraordinary be- haviour, and mysterious departure, were not in the course of daily events; in general it was supposed, that her inherit- ance of a large fortune depended upon her having a child within a limited pe- riod ; and that having no prospect of producing one herself, she had deter- hiined on obtaining one by surreptitious means, and to introduce it into the world as her own. There seemed in this case a shadow of reason in her conduct ; but Mrs. Elwyn, who had seen her eccentric appearance and extravagant demeanour, previous to the fate of the poor fishers, believed that she had some motive for concealing' her name and family ; and that an inquiry into SUBSTANCE AND SHADOXV, 4^ into these had hurried her from Brigh- ton ; while in protecting the child, she had merely followed an impulse of feel- ing ; and as in the latter case she had herself been actuated by a similar mo- tive, she was very much inclined to €x^ tenuate the conduct of the young lady, and to hope that she was unfortunate, rather than culpable. That she had money at command was evident; during the few days she had re- mained at Brighton, her liberality was the constant theme ; and her total igno* ranee, or disregard of the value of money, proved that she had been born in a very exalted sphere of life, or that she had been educated without the re- motest reference to that knowledge of prudence and calculation, which is so ne- cessary inthecommoHOccurrences of life. VOL. I, i) Elegant 50 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Elegant accomplishments and high-flown {Sentiments may be resorted to like court dresses, and worn on gala days ; but in the wardrobe of education there should be lain in a large stock of those 'plain suits of homebred knowledge, which will be wanted for ever ij- day use, and almost constant wear. CHAP, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 51 CHAP. V. So virtue blooms, brought forth amid tlie storms Of chill adverbitj. Kirke White. At the appointed time Mrs. Elwyn re- turned to the Hall, accompanied by her little dive. Mr. Elwyn appeared at the door, leading a beautiful boy of six years of age. Mrs. Elwyn's warm re- ception of his little favourite seemed to have paved the way for her husband's cordial notice of hers ; indeed, there seemed mor^ freedom and heart in his reception of herself, than she had been accustomed to meet with for many a day ; and indulging in the most pleasurable D 2 emotions. UNIVERSITY OE ILLINOIS LIBRAR1C hS SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. emotions, the yet sanguine Clara liailecl the present moment as the harbinger of many happy years. Mary Ellis was consigned to the care of a cottager's wife^ in the village of Norton, about half a mile from Elwyn Hall; Mrs. Elwyn contented herself with paying her a daily visit, careful of not suffering Mr. Elwyn to suspect her of an eccentric and romantic fondness for the little orphan. Harry Belford was the inmate of the Hall, and the constant companion of her* self, or of Mr. Elwyn ; that gentleman's fondness for him appeared to increase every day ; and in his long walks, which he had been heretofore accustomed to take alone, Harry ran at his side ; and even in his hours of periodical retire- ment, the pleading voice of Harry Bel- ford SUBSTANCE A77D SHADOW. 6S ford was not unnoticed at the library door. Of a quick capacity, and lively manners, the boy could not fail of gain- ing general favour. Mrs. Elwyn delighted in instructing him, and in marking the opening faculties of his mind ; and while she contem- plated his dark and expressive eyes, and marked the roseate colour as it mantled on his cheeks, she fi'equently fancied (and at these moments sIjC seemed to love the boy more fondly) that she could trace a likeness of her Elwyn, as he was in the halcyon days of infancy. The name of Belford, as the father of Harry, had never been mentioned by Mr. Elwyn since his lady had returned to the Hall ; Mrs, Elwyn had kept an in- variable silence on the subject ; she never sought to gratify an insignificant D 3 curiosityp .54 SUBSTANCE AND SFIADaW. curiosity, at the hazard of tormenting her husband with questions which \\e might not approve; if he thought it ne- cessary to be more communicative, she judged that he would have been so ; and if his reserve was occasioned by his doubts of her being worthy of his con- fidence, it would rather strengthen themj and lessen his opinion of her, were §he to betray an eager dciire to be admitted into it. As an exemplary wife, we eould d« most venture to pronounce that Mrs, Elwyn had not an equal ; but such a cha^ racter as we have pourtrayed would not be imitated by the ladies of the present era; they would all unite in calling her a tame, a meek fool ; and each of them would be tempted separately to declare ™" that the behaviour of such a brute a? SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 55 as Elwyn was absolutely not to be borne !" In such a case, they would have recourse to numberless modern methods of shewing their spirit ; they would re- late the tale of injury to female friendly confidants; they would have let their mate acquaintance peruse it in the soft liquid of their melting eyes; and if thej; ven- tured to advise retaliation and revenge — • [But see further of this in the every-day anecdotes of modern married pairs.]] We will return to Mrs. Elwyn, who, trying to palliate what she would have wished to change in her husband, arrd dwdlingon a great deal that she still sa^v to admire, diverted her mind, by the conscientious discharge of her new du- ties, (duties whhch she had voluntarily taken upon herself), and who felt a lie-- D 4 ing^ ^6 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ing piinciple ^nth'm, as the original im- pulse, and the unerring guide of all her actions. Gossips there are, and gossips there have been, in all ages of the world, and in all parts of the habitable globe, but the gossip of a country village has been proverbial time out of mind ; and the ■^vhole village of Norton did not contain one female who was^toiZ?/ The goodness, the meek carriage, and die humility of Mrs, Elwyn, had gained her the universal suffrage j but where we cannot find any thing to condemn, it may be sometimes pleasant to piti/ ; for human nature is human nature, and If there be no perfect happiness, or per- fect goodness, how should there be per- fect charity ? The sagacious spinsters nodded SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 5T nodded their heads to the garrulous old wives, as they canvassed over the affairs of the neighbourhood. ^' Poor Mrs. Elwyn, *tis a great pity !'*^ " Yes, she is a very good woman, very good indeed, very good to the poor. She is really laying up her trea- sure in heaven !'* " Ah, poor soul f she has lain it out to little purpose here, take mi/ word for it; she is quite broken-hearted, sinking with trouble, though she never com- plains; and yet, before I would have let mi/ husband bring liome his base-born brats under my own nose, and he toO' that I gave up such a handsome fortune to— oh ladies, 'tis shameful, shameful work ! 'tis not forbearance, "'tis not^ ia- deed ; 1 cannot call it forbearance — it shows no spirit, no conduct^t scarcely D 5 sho.v«j BS SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW, shows any affection for the husband ; for jealousy, say what you will, must exist where there is any love/' '' And the boy, you tell me, is the image of Mr. Elwyn }'^' " Oh law, yes ! the very counterpart of the father, the same sly look with his eyes, as I remember well, when he came down a child to visit his uncle here at the Hall. These family matches are sad things; they never do turn out well, that's very certain,/' *' But the girl who is nursing at Sa- rah Cooke's, whose is that ?" *' Oh, that is Mrs. Elwya's pet, it seems/' " Heaven only knows, ma'iam ; there are two stories about that too ; it will all come out in time, I dare say ; but they tell me Mrs. Elwyn is very fond of it/' '* Ma'am, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 50 *' Ma'am, I assure you she dotes upon h. Mrs. Elwyn went much earlier ta Brighton this year than she did the last.*' '' Did she, ma'am ? I was not at Nor* ton last summer.'' " Oh dear, yes ! she did not go till August then — now she went in June.** Unsuspicious and unassuming, Mrs. El- wyn pursued the /' even tenor of her way." Master Belford was at the proper time placed by his guardian at an eligible school near the metropolis; Mr. Elwyn always attended him there, and went hiiiv- self to fetch him at the vacations, at each return to the Hall. The voung: gentleman seemed to rise in estimation and in consequence ; the servants job- serving the increasing fondness of their jnaster, and the sweet compliance of D 6 their 60 SUBSTANCE AND SHAIiOW. their mislress, treated him with most respectful deference and attention. A poney was kept for bis exclusive use, a servant was given up to attend hin\ during each vacation, and every thing was prepared for him, which could mi- nister to his pleasures or his gratifica- tion. He was a fine youth, and high in health and spirits; and under the pro- tection of such indulgent friends, it would have been surprising if he had nol appeared in an attractive light. His im- provements kept pace with the ardent wishes of his benefactor; and while he made great progress in his scholastic edu- cation, the accomplishments of the gen- tleman were not overlooked. Mrs. Elwyn saw the increasing fond- ness of her husband for Harry Belford ^ith no jealous eye ; she loved the youth with SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. 61 Yfith much sincerity; and if she was doomed never to be the object of El- vyn's warmest affection, she did not grudge it to this child of his adoption. Her cares, in the mean time, had never relaxed towards her own favourite; for if she felt a partiality for one of the chil- dren, it was surely towards the little girl;^ whom she had probably saved from a life of painful servitude, if not of in- famy. When she was taken from the nurse^ Mrs. Elwyn had brought her to the Hall^ and had scrupulously endeavoured to in- struct her in her duty, as an accountable and an immortal being, and to infuse such knowledge into her youthful mind as would be useful to her in her jour- ney through life, and be calculated to smooth her passage to the tomb. The 02 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. The little orphan was of a most ten- der and affectionate disposition, pas- sionately attached to her '" nvama EI- wyn" (as that lady suffered herself to be called), and scrupulously observant of all her advice and her instructions. Mrs. Elwyn looked upon the fortune ■which she inherited as only lent to her fod' a season, for the trial of her own faith, and for the use of her fellow- beings ; and she was carefjl of unneces- sarily wasting it, because she knew that had she died unmarried or childless, it must have devolved to her husband and to his heirs; she considered it as his now; and though she knew that he would, in his accustomed easy manner, ac- quiesce to any proposition she should make, with regard to a provision for Mary Ellis^ yet it was not her wish to leave SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 65 leave her more than a moderate provi- sion. 'Mf I would make her a reasonable and a rational being/' thought she, '' rational and reasonable ideas must be implanted in her mind. Happiness is not the certain accompaniment of riches;" here a half-checked sigh praved that she felt what she uttered ; *' a decent com- petence, a useful stock of knowledge, a cultivated understanding, without fasti- dious refinement of taste, and a grateful, a thankful heart, lifting itself towards heaven — these are the blessings I slmll covet for my little Mary," CHAP. ^4 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. CHAP. VI. In admonition warra. Oft did he caution the too thoughtless tribes Against each sin that easily besets The heart ; and oft, more anxious than their guardians. Taught the surrounding innocents, who lov'd His friendly smile, the lesson to be good. POLWHELE, Mary Ellis had attained the age of eight years, when she accompanied her pro- tectress to Clifton ; Mrs. Elwyn now- left home on a yearly excursion^, from custom rather than from an idea of ex- periencing any benefit. The sea air had been pronounced toa keen for her the preceding summer, and m SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 65 in compliance with medical advice, en- forced by the persuasions of her hus- band, she now visited Clifton ; her frame was fragile, and her health delicate, yet she had no alarming symptoms ; in fact, mental anxiety and disappointment had long been struggling with a naturally good constitution, and as yet they had not wholly undermined it. Fond of having her little child about her person, in an hundred ways she con- trived to make her feel herself useful, and to imagine herself of consequence in the tiny offices of gratitude which she could perform ; thus a stimulus was given to her exertions, and a motive to her endeavours. Mary Ellis had been told that her parents were dead, but of her infantile history she knew no more, except that on her ^' dear mama Elwyn'* the €^6 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOVT. the care of her had fallen. Mrs. Elwyri had a great aversion to all appearance of mystery or concealment, and probably this aversion had daily been gaining ground, from observing the cheerless and, as it were, studious reserve, which Elwyn had ever practised towards her, and which had clouded all her days. She had long determined to make Mary Ellis fully acquainted with her birth and situation, not to giva har a more en- larged idea of her obligations to herself, but to dilate her mind with gratitude to the Supreme Being, and to teach her that He who could thus raise up a pro- tector to the fatherless would never for- gake those who trusted in him. From the most trivial incidents last- ing impressions are frequently made ; Jkirs, E}wyn was urged to the commti- nicatioa SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 67 nlcation of Mary's little story, by the circumstance which we are going to re- late. It was a fine Sunday evening in sum- mer, and having accompanied her pro- tectress to the church at Clifton twice in the course of the day, Mary was rather* surprised to hear the carriage ordered for an airing, as Sunday was usually kept ill the old fashioned mmntt by Mrs. Elwyn ; and whilg sh© dtvoted herstlf to the dutie^i of religion, her domestics had restj and her cattle also. The evening was delightfully pleasant, the breeze, as they were driven across the downj was cool and refreshing, af- ter the intense heat of the day ; they turned out into a public road to which ^fary was a stranger, and presently were attracted by the sound of a bell, from a plain 68 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. a plain edifice which stood in a rural lane, at a short distance from the road ; thither they bent their course. There was something peculiarly impressive in the scene; the sun was fast diverging towards the western hills, but its saffron glow threw an illumination on this house of prayer ; the simplicity of the build- ing, its neat and unobtrusive spire, the silver-toned bell, the retiredness of the situation, which seemed particularly cal- culated to inspire pure and holy thoughts to the mind, and to impress on the soul a true relish for devotion ; the neat but ancient style of architecture of the dwelling-house, which was attached to the chapel ; the picturesque scenery of the adjoining country, a gurgling ri- vulet, which gently, pensively, meander- ed through meadows, which were clothed in SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 6D In summer's loveliest green, and which, newly mown, sent their refreshing frag- rance on the evening breeze, all con- spired to impress the imagination and the fancy with the most tranquil and the most soothing feelings; and with placid serenity in her countenance, Mrs. El- wyn alighted from her chariot, and en- tered the chapel, leading her beloved child. The eyes of that quickly appre- hensive child were wandering from side to side as they passed through the body of the chapel, and were conducted by a respectable-looking matron to a pew near the pulpit, which was set apart for the accommodation of ladies. The clergyman got into the desk, the chapel was filled, the solemn but soft-toned organ was struck, and looking towards the gallery, Mary saw on each side of the 70 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, the instrument fifteen girls stand up, and neatly clothed in gowns of green, with modest round-eared caps^ lift up with one accord their youthful voices in the evening hymn of praise. Mary felt her heart glow with delight as she lis- tened to this infantile and harmonious choir; she looked with inquiring eyes towards her protectress, who directed her by an answering look to the duties of the place, for now the public service was begun. The clergyman who preached had cho- sen a most appropriate text — '' Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven/* He made an affecting but judicious appeal to his hearers for the female orphans whose cause he pleaded ; he pointed out the dangers to which chil- dren. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 71 'dren, and particularly female children, were exposed, when bereft of their pa- rents; he showed them the incalculable advantages of early religious instruction, and he reminded them that the Saviour of the World did not think it beneath his glory to descend from the highest heavens, and attend to the lisping peti- tions of babes and sucklings; he spoke with fervor and with energy, for he felt the cause which he had taken in hand; he knew the depravity and the frailty of human nature, and the dangers to which the best instructed are exposed in their journey through the world ; and in af- fording an asylum for infant females, a nursery of virtue and piety, he judged that there could not be a species of cha- rity more beneficial to the world, or more pleasing to the Almighty. Towards the 72 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. the conclusion of the discourse, he turn- ed towards the female orphans^ ere he began to address them ; (as if by intui- tion) they all rose from their seats, and fixing their modest eyes in attentive re* spect upon the preacher, his address was iTiost wisely adapted to their compre- hension. He pointed out to them the particular mercies of heaven, which they had experienced in having friends raised up to them, when they were deprived of their natural ones; he explained to them the nature of their obligations to the patrons of that beneficent insti- tution, who had not only shielded their persons from want, extended to them food and raiment, and a dwelling-place, but who had cared for their souls, who had given them the means of becoming the children of God, and inheritors of the StJEStANCE AND SHADOW. 7S the kingdom of heaven ; he besought them never to forfeit their right or title to that high distinction, but to join with him in praying for their temporal bene- factors, and in beseeching their Heavenly One still to supply them with the means of grace^ and with the hope of glory ;" and then, in a short but solemn prayer, he ended. Again the organ sounded, again the children lifted up their voices in praise, and Mary's eyes were suffused in tears, as Mrs. Elwyn turned towards her. It was with proud satisfaction that she watched her trembling fingers, as hastily they emptied her little morocco purse of its contents, when the plate came near her, while the crimsoning hue which over- spread her countenance announced the unusual perturbation of her bosom. Mrs. VOL. I, E Elwyn 74 SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. Elwyn had, however, anticipated this in part, and on the preceding day had filled her purse. When they were reseated in the car- riage, Mary Ellis would have sunk on her knees at the feet of Mrs. Elwyn, but was raised to her bosom, and ten- derly folded to it. " I am an orphan too V* cried Mary ; *' oh why, why must I not kneel and thank you ? oh, dear, dear mama Elwyn, only think what that gentleman told those little girls ! I might have been brought up wicked^ — /might have sworn — i might have stolen — I might have never known my duty to God Almighty, if you had not taught me! oh, why may I not kneel arid thank you ?*' " Only kneel to that God who moved my heart in your favour, my best Mary," said SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. i O «aicl Mrs. Elvvyn, deeply affected at wit- nessing the virtuous emotions of her child. " But how came you to take me, to take Mary EH is ? there were plenty-, plenty of other little orphan girls^ you •know ; and tJien you could not tell that /should love you the best of all." *' Compose yourself, my good girl, and I will tell you all about it. Accident in- troduced me to your acquaintance, so it would be called by those who are not accustomed to look for the presiding iu- iluence of God in all sublunary things." '* I am quite composed and good now," said Mary ; '' but you must let me hold your hand all the time you arc telling it." Mrs. Elwyn kissed the pudsey liand which pressed hers, and faithfully re- E 2 counted 76 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. counted to Mary the fatal catastrophe which had attended her parents^ and the history of her visit to their cottage. Tears rolled over the roseate cheeks of the artless child^, as she listened to the dreadful fate of her parents, but her eyes brightened through them;, when she heard she had a sister; and while al- most devouring Mrs. Elwyn's hands with kisses, she forgot not to bless the other good lady for taking her sister, and na- turally asked her name, and where she lived. Here Mrs. Elwyn was at a loss; she had frequently made inquiries con- cerning the strange lady, but hither- to without success; and she tried to quiet the mind of Mary, by telling her that her sister had got a friend as well as herself, and that the same God cared for them both ; but this assurance did not entirely SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 77 entirely set the heart of Mary at ease> (not though it came from her benefac- tress) ; for the first time, a feeling of re- lative affection had been raised in her breast, and she ever after retained aa anxious interest for the fate of her sis-* ter ; breaking from a reverie of a fev^ moments, Mary said — *' There are male^ as well as female orphans, an't there, Mrs* Elwyn ?** *' Certainly, my love.'* *' Poor Harry lielford, he is an orphaiit too; he has no father^ no mother — has he, ma'am ?" The question was an awkward one ; Mrs. Elwyn felt the colour revisit her pallid cheeks; her lip quivered; at length she answered — '* To Mr. Elwyn's goodness Harry Belford is indebted— he E 3. has 7S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. has supplied to him the place of his na- tural — of his parents/' '^ And I think," cried Mary, '' I shall }o\e Harry Bel ford a great, great deal snore than I ever did, now I know he is art orphan like myself ; and Mr. Elwyn too, how good it was of him ! But were Harry's father and mother drowned too, ijia'amr' Mrs. Elwyn was again confused; she answered she did not know ; and then, as if recalling her words, she said — '* No." " No, no," said Mary, shaking her head, '' it was only poor Mary's father and mother that were drowned. Oh, I shall never see the sea again without . thinking of my poor parents; and my dear good mama Elwyn, if you had not taken their child, she might have been drowned SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, 7Q drowned too, you know, before this time; for who would have looked after her, to see that she did not come to any harm?*' ft 4 CHAP. SC> SnBSTAKCE AND SEADOt^* CHAP. VII. Forward and frolic glee was tlierc, The will to do, the soul to dare, The sparkling glance, soou blown to live, Of hasty love, or liead forgive. ircoTx's Lady of the Lakk. We will pass over the infantile years of Mary Ellis, and our readers shall behold her a fine girl of sixteen, firmly fixed in the affections of her patroness, by her good conduct, grateful disposition, and pleasing demeanour; she was not eminently beautiful, but her counte- nance was very expressive ; and her dimp-* ling mouth and glistening eyes displayed the alternate emotions of a bosom which was> SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 8l >vas a stranger to disguise ; her under- standing was good, and her discrimina- tion superior to her years; she had great quickness and delicacy of feeling, and an innate sense of feminine propriety ; she was respectful and obliging in her beha- viour towards Mr. Elwyn, and scrupu- lously attentive to him, because she knew it was her duty, and because she saw it was pleasing to Mts. Elwyn ; but for her loved, her honoured benefactress, her affection could scarcely be restrained within the bounds of moderation ; she believed her the most perfect of hu- man beings ; and while she beheld her as a model, she was almost in danger of worshipping her as an idol, so strong a hold had the grateful sense of obligation obtained on her youthful heart. Harry Belford had just attained the e5. agCL .S£ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. age of twenty-one, and returned to the Hall from Oxford, where his arrival was distinguished by as much hilarity as if he had been the lineal heir of the house of Elwyn ; indeed, he had been long looked upon as the future possessor of its jionours by every body; and though Mr. Elwyn had never expressed himself di- rectly in this respect, yet by acquiescing in the general notice and deference -which was paid to him, he seemed co- vertly to have acknowledged it. Harry Belford had been told that he was the son of Mr. Elwyn's dearest friend; he felt that Mr. Elwyn had been the l}est of friends to him, and his con- duct displayed towards him the respect g^d affection of a son ; his must have been a hard heart if it had not softened towards Mrs. Elwyn ;. but Harry 's was not a hard SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 83^ hard heart ; and whilst he loved Mrs. El- \vyn for her goodness to himself, he re- verenced those superior virtues, and that exemplary and undeviating rectitude, which seemed to have lifted her above her sex, and even above that secret sor- row, which had attacked, without con- quering, her elevated mind.^ As a playful child, and an interesting:^ and innocent girl, he had always beea on the most friendly and familiar terms with Mary Ellis. At his last return from College, she had been absent with Mrs. Elwyn, on one of that lady's yearly excursions^ and hence his surprise at seeing her shot up into the interesting and lovely young woman, from the lively laughing girl, was forcibly impressed on his features; while Mary observed, with satisfaction, E a that 84 StIBSTAN'CE AND SHADOW. that his manners and appearance had re- ceived their last polish, and that he was quite the well-bred gentleman, without having lost the natural ingenuousness which marked his boyish days. Every character has some leading traits, and those which were discover- able in Belford% to the penetrating eye of Mrs. Elwyn, were impetuosity of temper, and no little idea of self-conse- quence ; he felt that he would never be guilty of a base or unworthy action, and this feeling raised him in his own estimation, and taught him to expect and to covet the world's applause ; while the indulgence with which he had been reared, and the respect and deference with which he had been invariably treat- ed, were not calculated to lessen it ; and the ardent and impetuous emotions of SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 85- of his mind, though at present they only added energy to his opinions, and gave to his, expressions a tincture of enthu- siasm, hot disagreeable in so young a man^ were likely to break out with re- sistless violence, if he should expe- rience any mortifications^ or have to struggle with any disappointments. Ta the overweening indulgence of M r. EU wyn, his lady attributed these failings as in part orrginating. Belford had been told that his birthi was respectable ; no humble notions had- been infused into his mind, from the consciousness of inferior origin. With the knowledge of her early mis-t^ fortunes^ on the contrary, humility had been happily blended in the character of Mary Ellis; and while Harry Belford re- ceived all the good things of this life,: with 86 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOVT. vfhh gratitude indeed, but with a grati- fied self-complacency, as if he had them of right, Mary Ellis felt them all as un- looked-for unmeri-ted gifts, which were not hers to claim, but which, while they were thankfully received, were fresh calls upon her meekn^ess and her hu- mility. It was naturally supposed by the neighbourhood that a family compact would again be formed, and that the for- tune of the Elwyn family would be cen- tered in the two favourites. The idea- had struck Mrs. Elwyn, and more parti* cularly since the last return of Belford, when she had remarked the evident plea- sure with which he viewed her Mary, and the pains he took, by his easy and confidential freedom^ to rid her conver- sation of that respectful timidity by which SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. 8T which it was marked in her behaviour to- wards him. Mrs. Elwyn had also seen the surprise and satisfaction which seem- ed to overspread the countenance of Belford, at perceiving Mary's quick ap- prehension of subjects on which he con- versed, and that intellectual knowledge which, while it had been stored in hey mind, had been prevented from making any display, by the just principles whicl* had been implanted with it, and the mo- desty of her disposition, and which novf \mfolded itself very charily, and was drarucn from its confinement, rather than protruded into notice. The prospect of such a connexion would not have been displeasing to Mrs. Elwyn ; all cares, all fears for her child would be at an end, in insuring her the protection of a man of honour, and the heir 88 SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. heir of Mr. Elwyn ; but could she ensure his affection ? was she not herself a liv- ing, a melancholy witness of the insta- bility of human happiness — of the fal- libility of all human schemes for its ac- complishment ? In the youth of Harry Elwyn, she had appeared to be as much the object of his preference as Mary Ellis now seemed that of Harry Belford's; the one had abated — had vanished with- out a cause, a reason, a conjecture — it had been transient, dazzling as the wa- tery sunbeam of a winter's day — the other might only be the offspring of early intimacy, operating on an ardent temper, and a mind which opened itself to tlie influence of every pleasurable emotion, and tried to communicate some portion of its own happiness to all who came within its sphere^ In. SUBStAKCE AND SHADOW. 89 In the present state of Belford's feel- ings, Mrs. Elwyn had no doubt of his eagerly entering into an engagement with her protegee, were it to be suggest- ed to him in the slightest manner by his benefactor; but she had known too much of the mutability of the youthful' heart to wish to put his constancy to the trial. With regard to Mary Ellis she was per- fectly easy ; her sense of her inferior origin, and her humble idea of her own deserts, prevented her from indulging any aspiring thoughts, (for such she would have esteemed them, had she suf- fered them to be lifted towards Mr. Bel^- ford), by permitting her to behave to- wards Harry as she had ever done, with- out checking her simple and candid man- ners, by conjectures or cautions, which. were 90 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. were not likely to be of any beneficial result. Mrs. Elwyn judged that she was pur- suing a right line of conduct, yet she could not avoid feeling a secret and warm satisfaction, when any instance of Belford's partiality and regard for Mary met her observation ; but she saw that these were wholly disregarded by her husband, who was ardently and exclu- f?ively attached to Bel ford, while the en- gaging manners and modest gentleness of Mary Ellis appeared to be entirely unobserved ; and while he treated her with civility, it was of so indifferent a kind, that Mary herself could not fail to remark it, and her lovely cheek was often suffused with crimson, at receiving some fresh instance of his inattention to^ or entire forgetfulness of herself. How SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 91 How few females of the present era could bear the idea of being overlook- ed ! this was calculated to stimulate Mary Ellis^ by additional attention and exertions, to deserve more notice in future; but this constant exercise of her humility and display of her ami- able disposition, endeared her yet more to Mrs. Elwyn, who, though she had long ceased to feel her husband's in- difference towards herself as acutely as bhe once did, yet could not help attri- buting to him great blindness, if not in- sensibility, in not opening his heart to the engaging qualities and pleading^ claims of her Mary. Mr. Elwyn was of late become inert and inactive ; the pleasures of the table seemed to be obtaining a dangerous hold on his senses; he got very corpulent, took 92 SITBSTANCE AND SHADOW, took little exercise, and seldom appear* ed to be roused from a state of lethargic indolence, except by the appearance of Kenry Bel ford at the Hall, after some oc- casional absence. Sacredly concealing in the depths of her own heart her painful observation of the faults and weaknesses of her hus- band, Mrs. Elwyn invariably attributed to disorder and to indisposition every renewed instance of his indilFerence ; but the " silent sorrow'* thus hidden from the world preyed on her vitals; and once again, in compliance with the ad- vice of her physician, and the affection- ate pleadings of Mary Ellis, she consent- ed to leave home, and to visit Chelten- ham, to try the efficacy of the waters at that place, for the complaint which her medical adviser had pronounced to be SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. D3 be " an affection of the liver;" had he named it ''an affection of the heart/' his judgment would have been unquestion- able. It now gave some prospect of relief to Mrs. Elwyn to leave home, and to be released for a short period from the con- templation of her once-loved Elwyn^ in his present enfeebled and degraded state; to see his fine mental faculties — to see his energies destroyed — to contemplate that form, bloated and distended by cor- poreal indulgencies, which had once ri- valled with the statue of the far-famed Belvidere Apollo, for a model of manly grace — to behold all the gifts of fortune slighted, and not to be able to account in the remotest way for the dire cause which led to this fearful, this appalling change — no wonder that the still acutely susceptible 94 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW^ susceptible mind of Clara felt a tempo- rary alleviation of its misery, in a change of scene, and a removal from the ob- ject of her ill-requited affection. The attention of Mary Ellis to her protectress was all that the fondest love and the most active gratitude could in- spire; without officiously obtruding on the invalid, she sedulously watched the opportunity of stealing her (as it were) away from melancholy contemplation ; and varied her methods and her sources of amusement, as the occasion required. As a nurse, Mary had successfully pro- fited by the useful instructions which Mrs. Eiwyn had imparted to her; and her quiet, yet steady and uniform perform- ance of the duties of a sick chamber, while it proved the feeling benevolence of her heart, at the same exhibited much presence SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 95 presence of mind and great self-con- troiil ; for though tenderly, apprehen- sively anxious for the event of this ill- ness, Mary did not, by her saddened countenance and agitated manner, give a hint to her suffering friend of those tears, which often in the silence and the solitude of the night, when '' all the world seemed hushed to rest," had sent her streaming eyes and piously clasped hands towards the throne of Heaven, in prayers for Mrs. Elwyn ; but in mo- ments of reason and reflection, Mary Ellis acknowledged, that nothing but the extreme of selfishness could impel her to offer up a petition for the prolonga- tion of that life, which, it was evident, was become of no value to the possessor. " And yet," thought this grateful prote- gee, " by precept, by example, by ac- tive 96 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. tive usefulness, by patient sufTering, by pious resignation, of how much benefit to others has that life been ! and how should I have abused the mercies of the Almighty, I that have daily, hourly, been a witness of her virtues, and her meek submission, if I had not in some part learned to imitate her prompt obedience to the will of Heaven V CHAP. StBSTAKdE AND SHADOW. $f CHAP. VIIL Her mien all swimming in delight, Iler oeauties half reveal'd to sight. Moore's Fables. Harry Belford was not at the Hall when Mrs. Elwyn quitted it for Cheltenham, but from the weekly letters which she wrote to Mr. Elwyn^ and which were in general carelessly thrown on the li- brary-table, he gathered that her health did not mend ; and Mr. Elwyn always yielding to any proposition of his fa- vourite, Harry rode down to Chelten- ham to pay Mrs. Elwyn a visit. The invalid was in her apartment when Belford arrived ; Mary Ellis was VOL. I, F sitting ■9S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. sitting at work, and in melancholy ru^ mination on Mrs. Eiwyn's evident in- crease of illness. She received him with smiles of ge- nuine satisfaction—"^ Mr. Bel ford," said she, as she rose from her chair, and met his extended hand, *'' this is verij good of you, but perhaps — " and her counte* nance flushed with hope, '' perhaps you are not unaccompanied ^'' Belford understood the half inquiry conveyed in the last word, and hastily said — " I came down with my servant only ; and now tell me, my dear Mary, howls our friend ?" Mary shook her head (while tears started to her eyes), and as if that me- lancholy motion had been sufficient, she eagerly desired Belford not to appear too much shocked at the alteration which he would SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. t)^ would witness in Mrs. Elwyn. '^ It is not that I fear to alarm her" continued Mary ; ''' my bdloved benefactress fears not death ; to her it presents no appalling terrors ; she knows, Mr. Be! ford, th^t ' there the weary will be at rest;* but it is for mjj sake, for our sakes, that I speak ; if she sees, from our counte- nances, that we judge her case to be past remedy, may she not slacken in her ef- forts — maij she not slight the means which are still essayed for her recovery — may she not — *' and now the tears would rush from her eyes, " may she not disre- gard any further assistance, and thus ac- celerate the bitter moment of trial to us ?'* '' I will do all that I can," said Bel- ford, in an hurried tone ; but his manly brow was overcast, his voice was im- F 2 peded. 100 SUBSTANCE AND SHArOW. peded, as Mrs. Elvvyn entered the room/ apd his hand trembled as she held out lier pallid, her almost transparent one to him. It was now that Bel Ford first observed the self-command and calm resolution of Mary Ellis — of her strong sensibility she had the moment before evinced un- questionable proofs, yet with tranquil- lized feelings she now addressed both hi^nself and Mrs. Ehvyn ; and gently, and almost as if by enchantment, led tlie conversation to indifferent and agree- able subjects. *' Is it the difference of^ nature, of constitution, or of edu^^ation,'' thought Belford, " while every emotion of my breast rages and wars with resistless im- petuosity, this gentle, this delicate girl, though tenderly alive to every soft emo- tion. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 101 tlon, has yet the power of saying — ' peace, be still/ and in a moment all is quiet as the ' pure translucent lake/ while my ruffled soul continues turbu- lent as the unquiet and buffeting wave on the tempestuous ocean ?'* Mrs. Elwyn was much pleased at the- appearance of Belford at Cheltenham^ and more so on Mary's account than on her own. She knew that Mary Ellis was exhibited to greater advantage in her present situation, and in the perform- ance of her present duties, than if sur- rounded by a mixed and fashionable so- ciety. Mary*s eduoiti-on had made her a use- ful rather than an ornamental character ; by the side of a belle of fashion, she- would have dwindled into a mere awk» ward and unpolished girl ; for that un- p 3^ derstanding. 102 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. derstanding, which but cautiously a-nd timidly unfolded itself to the embolden- ing approval of friendly attention, would have shrunk back with chilling appre- hension from a competition with un- blushing effrontery and modern per- tinacity. Harry Belford appeared to be fully aware of Mary Eliis's attractive and en- dearing qualities^ and while sedulously courted by the gay world at Chelten- ham, and received, wherever he appear- ed, as the heir of Mr. Elwyn, the coveted partner of all the beauties at the balls, and their favoured beau in their promenades on the walk, he yet retired frequently from the follies of fashion to the contemplation of all that was pa- tient and pious in Mrs. Elwyn — to the contemplation of all that was lovely, and worthy SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 105^' worthy of being loved, in the form of the artless and unassuming Mary, But human nature has its ebbs and flows, and Harry Belford was by no means a perfect character ; he had form- ed a pretty good estimate of his own at- tractions and advantages, and his vanity was much flattered at the evident marks oi partiality and attention, which v/ere awarded to him wherever and when- ever he appeared. As a friend, as i\\c companion of his youth, as an adviser, as the gentle soother of his cares, he would have singled Mary Ellis from the v/orld, but the captivating Lauretta Montgomery was a far greater object of attraction in public, and gave much more eclat to his taste. Miss Montgomery was the beauty of- f4 Cheiienham j 104 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Cheltenham; she was lately arrived from the east with her mother, lady Lauretta Montgomery. Report, like an " avant courier/' had preceded these ladies to Cheltenham ; it was said that they had travelled one thou- sand, two thousand, three thousand, and four thousand miles overland from India, for the story gained a thousand miles at every time it was narrated, (and promised to exceed the sand on the seashore in number, if these exaggerating details were continued). In the same ratio, the camels which composed their train were fifty, sixty^ seventy, and eighty; the size of their orien-tal peark was distend- ed till they almost got to the egg of the ostrich: but as a bulse of diamonds sounded well for a Nalwbess, the exact quantity SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ri!)5 quantity contained in a bulse was in- creased only in the same proportion with- the rest of the eastern importation. Miss Montgomery's person was cast' in the mould of symmetry, and every embellishment of dress (or rather its re- jection, as far as it could be done without quite overstepping the bounds of de- cency) assisted in displaying every fine- turned limb to the greatest advantage ; her features were schooled in the arts of attraction; and if she did not always say a thing worth listening to, yet the pearly whiteness of her teeth, and the ruby richness of her mouth, gave interest to the most trifling remark ; but she could converse on all tlie fashionable topics of the day — she could descant on the fa- shionable publications — quote from the **^ Lay of the Last Ministrel" — warble J8 3 the 106 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. the amorous effusions of Moore — speak of sentiment and sensibility with any- German novelist — like Niobe, almost *' dissolve in tears/* and instantaneously transform herself into all that was gay and lively, as she sprang into the " fro- lic dance ;" while presently she seemed to sink into all the lassitude, the lan- guor, and the inertion of Ottoman vo- luptuousness. All the advantages of education which could be procured in the east had been eagerly sought for the fair Lauretta, and the last finish had been put to every ac- complishment, the last touch to every grace, since her arrival in England ; and she now broke forth from the east like the sun, to dazzle and astonish all be- holders. Lady Lauretta Montgomery was passed the StJBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 107* the bloom of youth, and even the ma- turity of her charms appeared to have been hastily chaced away by the despoil- ing hand of sickness. The torrid zone had given the tinge of yellow to her cheek, but her dark eyes yet flashed with fire as she spoke, and the animation of' her manner was peculiarly striking. In her expressions, and even in her action, there was something so different from the rest of the world, that she naturally attracted observation ; and if reclining almost at full length on a sofa, like an. ancient figure at the foot of a family tomb in a country church), enveloped-^ in her shawl of camel's hair, in the midst^ of a crowded ball-room, such behaviour was excused, nay even admired, on the; plea of its being " foreign,'' '' quite. Asiatic/' '' perfectly nouvelle/* - fG 111 lOS SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. In Lady Lauretta's language, she adopt* cd all the flowery figures of eastern poesy ; but as these could not be easily woven into the trivial occurrences of the passing moment, she did not condescend to notice them, unless she shrouded them in metaphor and sublimity. In her addresses to Miss Montgomery she used every appellative of tendei^ ness, and redundantly ex-pressed aflfec- tlon^ which she had gleaned from the co- pious sources of oriental phraseology. All her ideas, all her sentiments^ seemed sublimated from every thing that was terrestrial ; and while the impassioned voice of the mother was- thus pouring forth the warm effusions of the heart, the enchanting smiles of the daughter, as she silently received them, formed a picture, which, Sroai it^singularitT/, was calculated SUBSTANCE AND SHADO\T. lOd calculated to interest ; and the unabash- ed and unconstrained manner with which the young lady heard these tender addres- ses, while they gave her in some eyes a double charm, and showed the sweet sim- 'pliciiij and consciousness of her supreme attractions, had quite a contrary effect on others, who traced in her behaviour the Ycry acme of indulged and overweening vanity ; and who scrupled not to aver, that under the appearance of '' naif" simplicity, much art and much dupli- city lay concealed. To this number Bel- ford did not belong ; he taw in Lauretta Montgomery all that the highest refine- ment could wish for; as a model of fa- shionable elegance, to him there ap- peared a nameless grace in her every action, an indescribable charm in her every word ; when she spoke^ he seem- ed flO SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ed bound as if by a spell of enchant- ment — when she danced, he seemed drawn into a magic circle of delight- when she sang, and accompanied the finely-modulated trill of her voice with her harp, as if '' lapped in Elysium/* he t\'as all ear; his mind seemed in a rapturous tumult in her presence ; and when he quitted her, he was agitated with impetuous passion, till he repaired to Mrs. Elwyn*s; and there he contem- plated the modest and placid Mary Ellis, who, '^ like the mild green of the soul,*' seemed to refresh his senses, and to com- pose his mind, after those brilliant cor- ruscations, which, while they dazzled,, had filled him with perturbation* Alike alive to the calls of pride as of vanity, the thought of marrying Mary Ellis had never entered the imagination of. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Ill of Belford ; indeed, the iLlea of marry- ing at all had never been seriously re- flected on ; but he daily felt more flat- tered at the marked distinction of Miss Montgomery ; and when he was joked on the subject, though he affected to disclaim it, vet his self-exultation was pretty evident. It was not likely that either Mrs. El- wyn or her protegee should hear of Bel- ford's flirtation with Miss Montgomery ; they saw no one but himself, (for Mrs. Elwyn was unable to quit the house, and Mary never left her) ; and though Lau- retta Montgomery was the all-engross- ing subject of his thoughts, whea he reached Mrs. Elwyn's door, he found her image very soon put to flight, while witnessing the patient suffering of Mrs, 112 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOi;r. Mrs. Elwyn, and the gentle attentions of Mary. Amiable, charming, sensible, and dig- nified as was Mrs. Elwyn, Bel Ford stiil saw that she would not coniprehend the characters of the Montgomerys by de- scription, and that any attempt to give it might be dangerous, lest in pourtraj- ing their unique graces of conversation and manner, eccentricity might be sup- posed to form a part. It was only those who knew them, who had 'personally conversed with them, who could properly appreciate their in- describable and countless attractions. Exemplary in her conduct and deport- ment, there was a regular and systematic rule of right in every word as well as action of Mrs* Elwyn. She had been educated SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 113 educated in the sterling principles of rectitude, which used to be implanted with the first rudiments of female edu- cation, in the good old times. The na- tural ingenuousness of youth was then chastened by proper and maidenly re- serve, and politeness of behaviour in- culcated by these enforcing rules, which, if they gave rather too much formality to the manner, and imposed a little too much restraint on the conversation, were yet deemed by our grandmothers as the proper bulwark of female mo- desty and virtue ; by their grandchildren this mode of education would have been termed " the reign of terror ;" and to say t'ne truth, it must be allowed, that there is nothing terrifying in ihe forms or the ceremonies practised by the gay belles of ^/i/s century ; though frequently the 114 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. the most terrific consequences have en- sued to the unshackled laxity of modern manners. CHAK SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 115 CHAP. IX. With smiles and adulation bland. Moore's Fables. Belford had always felt an unaccount- able repugnance to speak of the Mont- gomerys in the presence of Mrs. Elwyn, and that pride which was gratified at the distinguished notice bestowed on hijn by persons so high in rank and in no- toriety as were these ladies, seemed to slumber in the society of the invalid and her interesting young attendant ; but it *' raged and reigned without con- troul" when he quitted them; and the look of gratified and conscious exulta- tion 116 SUBSTANCE ATsD SIIADOV/. tion with which he looked around him,. when receiving some proofs of Miss Montgomery's or her mother's' marked attention, would have evinced to any one who had been prepared for the scru- tiny, that self-conseqisence and pride were the rulins: traits of his character: but sailing down the stream of pleasure, v»hile every thing is propitious to the wishes, there is in the ardent and san- guine temperament of youth so buoyant and so bright an expression of felicity, that, dazzled by the exterior, we are apt to give it credit for more amiability, and for more perfection, than falls to the lot of human nature. The pleasing address, the fine per- son, the agreeable conversation, and th« fair prospects of Belford, were alone \iewed by the m.ultitude; and in his turn ha SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 1 17 lie was as much extolled by the young ladies and their manias, as Miss Mont- gomery had been by the beaux. The flattery of the world — its artificial manners — its afl'ectation of interest for our persons — its approbation of our sen- timents — its warm expressions of regard and admiration, which are merely words of course, and lip deep — used to all people on all occasions, are calculated to do incredible mischief to the minds of youth, more especially to those who, likeBelford, have their prominent foibles encouraged by this mode of behaviour; and who, unpractised in the varnished arts of insincerity and dissimulation, are well disposed to lend a ready ear to every thing which feeds their vanity. It was at an elegant ball and supper given by lady Lauretta Montgomery to about 118 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. about an hundred of the most fashion- able people at that period in Chelten- ham, that Harry Bel ford seemed abso- lutely lifted above himself, by the mark- ed distinction with which he was treat- ed by the interesting mistress of the re- vels and her enchanting daughter. As lady Lauretta's behaviour gave the tone to her guests, Belford seemed the universal object of applause and attrac- tion. If he spoke, his speech was re- tailed as a jcu d' esprit to lady Lauretta, as she rested on an Ottoman couch of rose-coloured satin at the head of the room. If a young lady was heard to say something indicative of her admira- tion, with much avidity Miss Montgo- mery had it repeated to her; and the be- witching smile with which she instan- taneously turned towards Belford, as if to SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 1 IQ to observe whether he had noticed it, while it gave to every one an opportu- nity of making their own remarks^ w.ns calculated to fill the breast of Belford with the most ecstatic delight. The ball had been opened by the fair Lauretta and himself on that evening; never had she looked more lovely ; and the bird of paradise, as it waved its feathery plumage on her head, seemed to point her out as one of the fabled houris. which had been described bv Mahomet to his impassioned followers, as an inhabitant of that favoured land. She danced that night in a style which surpassed every thing which had been seen ; and Belford, who was not defi- cient in this accomplishment, felt in- spired with emulation .s he looked at his bewitching partner, and never had moved no SUBStANCE AND SHADOW. moved more gracefully, or looked more irresistibly. All rapture, all delight, all enchant- ment, he led the beauteous fair one to the supper-room, where all the luxuries of European elegance and Asiatic splendour seemed combined to make out an enter- tainment for the admiring guests. No longer could he restrain his emotions, but bending his head to the not unwill- ing ear of the fair Lauretta, while he played with the ivory fan, which he had sportively taken from her, he poured forth a strain of admiration, and fond protestation of adoration and attach- ment, with all the sanguine and ardent impetuosity of his nature. The bewitching maid, while she half looked down, yet betrayed no symptoms of uneasiness ; and while fondly expect- ing SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 121 ing from this gentle softness some con- fession of reciprocal tenderness, and pleading for it with a degree of im- passioned earnestness, which made him forgetful of every thing beside. Lau- retta turned her melting eyes towards him ; her coral lips were severed, as she seemed beginning to speak : all eye, all ear, Bel ford sat in mute and throbbing expectation, when, feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, he hastily turned round, though not much pleased at the interruption, when he met the face of his own servant, who respect- fully putting a note into his hand, said— *'Theservantshere, sir, all being engaged, I thought it better to find you out and deliver it myself, for fear of any delay." The hand of Belford trembled, for as he took the note, he recognised the TOL. I. o Iwnd- 122 SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. hand-writing of Mary Ellis : with a slight inclination of the head. Miss Mont- gomery gave the permission for per- usal, which he seemed to have asked, though he had not uttered a word; and with the most painful emotion he read the following words: — *' I am sorry to break in upon your festivities, but a change so much for the worse has taken place in our beloved friend, within the last two hours, that it is necessary Mr. Elwyn should immediately be apprized of it. Mary Ellis/' Lauretta Montgomery was vanished from the imagination of Belford — the enchanted supper, the ball, the spark- ling SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 12S ling decorations, were fled — he was al- ready in the street, and in a few seconds at Mrs. Elwyn's door. In the parlour he was met by, the gentle Mary; in a subdued but articulate voice, yet trembling with apprehensive affection, she informed him, that in the middle of the night, Mrs. Elwyn had been seized with an alarming fit of coughing, and that in consequence she had broken a blood-vessel, from which the most alarming consequences were to be apprehended. — '' She is now "easy,'* said Mary, *' and, thank Heaven, for the presfwf we have nothing to dread; but how soon the hemorrhage may return, alas! we cannot say — she must be kept perfectly quiet. Ah, Mr. Bel ford, she looks likes an expiring saint !" cried Mary, breaking out into a passionate G 2 flood 124 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW.' flood of tears. *' She would not suffer me at first to send for you, with her usual goodness, unwilling to shorten the enjoyment of others." " Enjoyment !" repeated Celford, with a bitter expression of countenance, and putting his hand to his forehead, " enjoyment I and that while my dearest friends were suffering I'* " But sensible/* continued Mary, ^'of her imminent danger, and anxious to ^ee Mr. Elwyn once again,'* here Mary's Voice was lost, and she turned from Bel- ford, and hid her face in her handker- chief. — '' But I forgot myself," said she ; '* no time must be lost — our beloved Mrs. Elwyn desires to see you for one moment — she thinks you will write to Mn Elwyn." *' Write!** hastily repeated Belford, " I will SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW, 1S5 will go, instantly go — no messenger could go so quickly as I shall, Mary, guided by duty and aflfection." " Thank you, bless you, Mr. Belford," said Mary, catching his hand, and press- ing it with fervor to her lips ; she knew not what she did, but the artless action Vfasfelt — it was remembered by Belford —it afforded him an instance of the in- tuitive gratitude of her nature, of the enthusiasm of her affection for her pro- tectress, which yas never erased from his mind. " Yau,'' said Mary, " can tell Mr. Elwyn how veri/ ill my dear benefactress is — it is not a very long journey for him to take — besides ?/ozi will accompany him back ; and— and— " Mary felt that she was putting persuasives for Mr. Elwyn to G 3 undertake 126 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. undertake the journey into the mouth of Bel ford — alas ! her foreboding mind had told her they would be necessary ; but she tried to believe otherwise, and only adding — '^ He will come, he can- not but come,'' she led the way to Mrs. Elwyn's apartments, and gently moved on tiptoe; thus delicately, by her example, teaching Belford to do the same. Mrs. Elvvyn's pallid countenance could scarcely be distinguished "''rom the white pillow on which it rested. Belford ap- proached the bed ; she received him with a faint smile ; and as he reverently bent his head, and pressed his lips to the hand which, extended on the counter- pane, she did not seem to have strength to hold out, Mrs. Elwyn feebly whisper- ed— STTBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 127 ed — " Tell Mr. Elwyn it will give me comfort to behold him once more, and bid him lose no time.*' " Mr. Belford says he will go himself, my dearest mama/' said Mary, in a gentle whisper. The pleased expression of Mrs. El- wyn *s eye, as she turned it on Belford, conveyed the warmest satisfaction to his heart. Again he bent upon her hand, and exchanging a kind look of adieu with Mary Ellis, he quitted the apart- ment. With the utmost speed Belford chang- ed his ball trappings for a travelling suit, and mounting his own horse^ thinking- it would carry him more swiftly than he could be conveyed in a chaise, he set off for Elwyn Hall. The rapid haste with which he moved G 4 alonii 128 SUBSTANCE AND SffAUOtT. along seemed to preclude his mind from much reflection ; yet, strange as it may seem, the image of Lauretta Montgo- mery was chaced away by the dying form of Mrs. Elwyn, and tearful eye of Mary Ellis ; and when he glanced at the festive scene which had so recently en- tranced his senses, it was with something of self-reproach, for he dwelt on the more recent and affecting one to which he had been summoned. As the ignis fatuus dazzles and mis- leads the traveller, by its playful and versatile brilliancy, and as the mild in- fluence of the chaste orb of night, as it pursues its steady track, gives him both content and resolution on the way, so did the benign form of Mary Ellis ap- pear to Belford; and each wish of his soul seemed now to be* turned towards the SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 129 the amelioration of her situation, and in hasting back to Mrs. Elwyn, with that com fort which a husband's presence alone could give. Mr. Elwyn was just taking his after- noon's nap (after a plentiful meal) when Eel ford entered ; he had given or- ders not to be disturbed, but the servants knew that there was always an exception in favour of their young master; neither were they mistaken; Mr. Elwyn roused himselfwith some appearance of pleasure, as he said — '' Henry Belford, my dear boy, where did you come from? sit down — I am delighted to see you — and now you are come home to stay, I hope ?*' " A very short time, my dear sir,*^* answered Belford, respectfully taking the hand of his patron ; *' but 1 am going to take you back with me to Cheltenham ; 6 5 Mrs. 130 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Mrs. Elvvyn wishes for your company, and I know you will not deny us." A " pshaw" half broke from Mr. El- wyn as Belford named his wife ; but, as if recollecting himself, he made a cold inquiry after her health. Belford then unreservedly acquainted him with the precarious state in which she lay, and which had been the occasion of his sudden return ; rax! after having waited for some moments for Mr. Elwyn to speak, but without effect, he again addressed him, and urged the wishes of Mrs. Elwyn, saying — '' I ordered the travelling chaise as I came in, for if we do not set off instantly, I fear we can hardly expect to see her alive." Mr. Elwyn trembled all over, but his silence was taken for consent by Bel- ford, who was hastily quitting him, to see SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 13! see that his orders had been followed up, when Mr. Elwyn said — " Stop, Harry — come hither; stop, Harry — I cannot go." ** Not gOy my dearest sir ?" said Bel- ford ; ''not go 1 to afford the last earthly consolation to the amiable^ the suffering, the dj/i7ig Mrs. Elwyn ?" Elwyn shuddered, and putting both his hands before his face, he said — " No, I cannot go — I cannot behold Clara in her last moments.'* *' Ah, my beloved, my honoured be- nefactor, say not so !" cried Belford; " it is a scene calculated to give peace and comfort to all her friends. The great- ness of Mrs. Elwyn's mind never shone more conspicuously than during this her long and trying illness, and as she gets^ nearer to the closing scene of her pil- G 6 grimage 1S§ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. grimage — ('' Pilgrimage!" repeated Mr. Elwyn in a hollow whisper, while a sigh issued from the bottom of his heart ) — her patience, her fortitude, and her faith, seem to be gaining strength as her bodily facul- ties decay. Believe me, my dear sir, such a contemplation has in it something, which, though it cannot be expressed, yet seems to afford us consolation, even in the midst of our affliction. We must regret her for ourselves — but for her, she seems already to have a foretaste of the happiness prepared for her ; and but that she still fondly clings to attach- ments closely rivetted to her affection- ate and benevolent heart — to t/ou, her husband — to the child of her bounty — • and to me, the happy object of your goodness, she seems already an inhabi- tant of that world to which she is going. The SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, 135 The only earthly wish that now remains is once more to see her husband — and surelij it will not, cannot be denied to her!" — and Belford grasped the hand of Mr. Elwyn, and looked in his face with a beseeching expression. The countenance of Mr. Elwyn was no longer hid by his hands, but he seem- ed to look on vacancy rather than on the animated pleader, who was in an at- titude which might almost be called kneeling before him. " Pray — pray, sir, do not deny me,*^ cried Belford, *' do not now deny your own Harry Belford this one request — a request which for your own sake you ought to accede to, as well as for that of the dear sufferer." ** I cannot go," said Mr. Elwyn, ** have I not said so? — Ilarry, torture me 134 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOVT. no longer; tell poor Clara — tell her — 1 do not know what I would say/* said he, pausing, and leaning on the mantle- piece. " No I" said Belford, ^' you cannot frame a message that will excuse your attendance — 1 know^ I feel you cannot— and you will accompany me.** "Never!** said iMr. EIv.7n;'Mam ill— I am unhinged both in mind and body — I am not equal to the exertion — you see I am not; tell her so — -say that lam in- disposed, dear Harry/* said he, with some appearance of eagerness, as if happy to have hit on any thing which might wear the semblance of a reason- able excuse. " But will you not be worse, my dear sir, if you thus give way to an imaginary imbecility ? believe me, my hojioured Mr^ Elwyn/^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 135 Elwyn," and Bel ford spoke with the warmth of virtue, '' there can be no danger to be apprehended from that ex- ertion which is the offspring of duty and affection. Pray, pray do not be angry with your Harry Belford, if he ventures to suggest to you that you will have more to dread from the pangs of self- upbraiding, should you remain here, than could possibly await you in taking this journey." " Self-upbraiding! what do yon mean, Harry ?" asked Mr. Elwyn, with quick- ness ; *' Vive you then become my inqui- sitor and my judge ? does my own — does — do ?/ow, Harry, condemn me?" " Condemn you — God forbid!" cried Belford with emotion, his heart over- flowing with gratitude to his patron, yet at the same moment throbbing with ago- nizing 136 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. nizing emotions at the idea of return- ing to Cheltenham unaccompanied. — *' God forbid, my dear Mr. Elwyn !** re- peated he with fervor; " but in return \ for the countless obligations you have heaped on me, I would try, if possible, to prevent you from experiencing one moment of self-reproach/* Mr. Elwyn was softened towards his favourite, but he still persisted in de- claring his inability to fake the journey; and Bel ford, who believed the idea ta proceed wholly from his habitual indul- gence and supineness, while he lamented that long course of intemperance which had produced such imbecility and timid apprehension, saw that nothing which he could urge had power to persuade him to the contrary. In the utmost mortification and dis- tress. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 137 tress, as he pictured the sad conse- quences which might too probably en- sue to Mrs. Elwyn, when she should see him arrive without her husband, he left the room, and tried to compose the tu- mult of his agitated mind, in pacing with hurried steps the spacious hall ; but suddenly recollecting that evefy mo- ment was precious, and that while he yet lingered Mrs. Elwyn might be breathing her last, he relumed to the dining-room. Rising from his seat, Mr. Elwyn poured him out a large bumper of Madeira, (hav- ing during this little interim forrified his own courage not to take the journey, but moj^e resolutely to withstand the in- treaties of Belford, with two or three glasses) — " Come, Harry, take a glass of wine; it will do you good." Belford declined the invitation, saying — '* That 133 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, — '' That having eaten nothing for the day^ he was afraid to venture." Mr. Elwyn instantly pulled the bell^ saying — " Good God ! why did you not say so before ? why would yau not order something? Harry,, mv dear Harry ; you know you are master here ; every thing I have is yours. Why did you wait to be asked?" " Alas!" answered Belford, '' I have bad no time to bestow a thought on ray- self; and even now I scarcely dare take advantage of your kindness; but if you will say that after I have taken some re- freshment, I shall hdiNc your company oil the way" '' I have told you, Harry/* said Mr* Elwyn, '' that I cannot go ;" and he spoke with more peevishness than he had ever used to his favourite. '' You would SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. IZt^ would not ask me, if you — if you knew how I felt," " But am not I a proud, a living in- stance/' asked Bclford, *' that selnsh- ness does not form a part of Mr. Elwyn's character, and to evade a temporary in-, convenience, would he run the hazard of purchasing to himself a lasting sub- ject of regret?'* " Urge me no more, imprudent boy;.. if you will persist, you drive me to dis- traction/' The look of agonizing suffering which Mr. Elwyn's countenance exhibited, as he said these words, appalled and con- founded his hearer ; he said no moreji but hastily snatching a few mouthfuls of refreshinent from a tray which a servant had put on the table, he looked at his benefactor with an expression of mingled duty 140 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. duty and compassion, as he drank the glass of wine which he had poured out for him, and grasping his hand with emo- tion, (while Mr. Elwyn threw himself back in a chair, and turned his face from liisgaze), he caught up his hat, and left the room ; the chaise which he had or- dered was at the door, and, without further delay, he sprang into it, and wal driven oC CHAP. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 141 CHAR X. She, frail oftspring of an April morn, Poor helpless passenger from love to scorn ; While dimpled youth her sprightly cheek adorns, Blooms a sweet rose, a rose amid the thorns ; A few short hours, with faded charms, to e.^ rth She sinks, and leaves no vestige of i.er birth, MissAiKiN. The morning which dawned upon the sick-bed of Mrs. Elwyn, soon after Bel- ford had quitted the room, brought with it some amelioration to the griefs of the watchful Mary, as she saw her be- loved protectress gently resign herself to the influence of sleep. After enjoying two hours of tranquil slumber. 143 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOVf, slumber, Mrs. Elwyn awoke calm and refreshed, free from pain, though much weakened by her recent violent attack. Sensible that she had not long to live, her eyes seemed to fix themselves on the darling object of her affection, and her heart to overflow in love towards her. — " My best child,*' said she, ten- derly holding her hand, " come nearer to me, and let me seize the last opportu- nity which may be allowed me, of mak- ing knov;n to you my wishes, w-ith re- gard to your future destination/* Mary bent her lovely mournful coun- tenance towards her dearest friend ; she softly pressed her warm lips on her cold moiit forehead, and in an attitude of pious attention, and holding in her breath, as though she would not lose a syllable^ she listened to that maternal advice. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. H3 ladvice, which she resolved to make the sacred rule of her conduct, and which might be truly said to be engraven on hcv heart. Mrs. Elwyn did not conceal from Mary that she did not entertain very sanguine expectations of seeing her husband; he had never visited her bed of sickness^ and her btd of death was not likely to be a scene which would be contemplated by him; yet, to have assured him in person, that never in thought, word, or deed, had she swerved from her allegiance to her early love — to have bestowed upon him her last prayers — to have communicated personally to him her wishes concerning Mary Ellis, would have alforded her the most heartfelt satisfaction ; but as bhe feared that it vvaslil tly to be denied her, she had addressed a letter to him, in an hour 144 SUBSTANCE AKD SHAOaW. hour of comparative convalescence, and she now informed her weeping auditor of its contents. Mrs. Elwyn still felt the most tender and affectionate interest in her husband's happiness ; by the natural goodness of her own nature she juds^ed of his ; and though his neglect and indifference had been closely folded in the deepest re- cesses of her heart, yet she suspected that they would be conjured up by *' busy meddling memory/' and that when she was gone for ever, Mr. Elwyn might feel Tegret nnd compunction ; she there- fore had urged in her letter to himself, and also in her advice to Mary Ellis, her continuing to reside at Eiwyn Hall, till the period when her virtues should have fixed the affections of some worthy being, who might make her his willing partner SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 145 partner for life. — " You know Mr. El- wyn's turn of mind, my beloved girl, his peculiarities, and the diflTerent shades of his temper — you will not break in on his retirement by officiousness — you will not disturb his period of abstraction 1^ ill-timed loquacity — your gentle and unassuming manners have particularly calculated you to be an inmate in his fa- mily ; and your quiet and regular me- thod of pursuing your active avocations^ while they cannot oflfend the mo3t fas- tidious, will always afford you self-satis- faction in their discharge ; besides, where t:ould I point out for you a more eligible asylum, than under that roof which has been your shelter from infancy, and un- der the immediate protection of my hus- band?" VOL. I. B *' But IfAly SUBSTANCE AND SffADOVT. *' But without you, without you !" — sighed out Mary. " Mary, we must not dare to murmur at the dispensations o^ the All-Wise. I have had a long time of suffering," Mrs. Elwyn paused, and Mary once more essayed to resume her fortitude, from which she had been instantaneously bereft, as the idea forcibly presented it- self to her imagination, of the solitary gloom of Elwyn Hall, when bereft of its mistress. Mrs. Elwyn proceeded. — '^ I have already told you, my dear child, that in the provision which I have requested Mr. Elwyn to make for you, I have re- moved you from an affluent rank of life, while I have guarded you from the dis- tresses allied to poverty. If four thou- sand 15UBSTANCC AND SHADOW. 1 4T ■^alid pounds would not make my Mary- happy, double, nay treble that sum would fail; and the man who would not take Mary Ellis with four thousand .'poirndsj would not deserve her/* '' Enough^ enpugh '/' whispered Mary; '' enough for me; what do / merit-* what do / deserve — what ought I to ex- pect ? a poor orphan^ — a foundling ; I owe my life to you. Oh, my dear ma- dam, where might poor Mary Ellis have been at this moment, {[ i/ou had not pre- served her ?'* " Compose yourself, dear Mary; for WJj sake, compose yourself. My fortune would at my death have been unalien- ably Mr. Elwyn's, had I never become his wife.'* Mrs. Elwyn sighed and paused — '' I do believe, that if I were to de- sire him to give you the half of it, he . n 2 would 1 4B SUBSTANCE AND SHAD0\7, Tvoiild scrupulously, nay promptly ful* filmy hst request; but I have perhaps been more delicafe in my expenditure, from knowing the liberality of disposi- tion which has always distinguished Harry Elwyn." After som.e more afTectionatie instruc- tions on the subject of Mary's future conduct, Mrs. Elwyn proceeded as fol- lows : — '' A few words more I must add, rny dearest Mary, on a topic which, perhaps, you have not yet considered; it is with regard to your settling in mar- riage. I do not guard you against form- ing a connexion ^vith the profligate, the irreligious, or the undeserving ; I feel that yntir good sense, and your good principles, wii^ preserve you from such an unhnppy fate; but I would shield yoa from the bitter pangs of ill-rcquiied af- fection— SUBSTA^NGE AND SHADOW. 14^ fection — 1 v/ould guard you from the weakness of your own heart^ — ^I would earnestly l3eseech you not to accept the hand of any man, till you have in some measure proved his constancy — till you_ are assui^ed that your affection is recipro- cal. Duty, gratitude^ transient partia- lity, many feelings may, I fear, be mis- taken for thai exclusive attachment which ought to- subsist to render the married state a happy one. I am not pleading for the existence of that ail-engrossing passion which, alas ! is to be found only in the enthusiasm of youth, and in the pages of romance, but for that steady and reasonable aflection, which is calca^ lated to ripen into mutual confidence and esteem, and to smooth and gild the pas- sage to the tomb/* Insensibly, as if pourtraying from 11.3 having 150 SUESTAKGE AND SHADOW. having experienced the painful reverse in her own case, Mrs. Elwyn grew more energetic, but more aJOTected as she con- cluded the kst sentence, till exhausted by the exertion, she was obliged to fall back on her pillow.. Much impressed with the feeling nnd goodness, of heart which. Belibrd had evinced in his late visit to Chelten- ham, his attention to herself, his br.o^ thcrly kindness towards Mary, together with the prompt manner in which he had met the summons from the scene of festive pleasmes, and bad commenced a. hasty and solitary journey, Mrs. Elwyn.* felt a latent hope arise in her mi^d, of his becoming, at no very distant period, the protector and husband of her Mary. In desiring that she might remain an in.- l^bitant at the Hall, she knew that she was SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 151 was giving him an opportunity of see- ing her in the fairest and most interest^ ing light ; and she thought it was highly probable, that the generous and ardent temper of Bel ford might be taken cap- tive by so much excelience^ notwith- standing that his natural pride, and his self-consequence, might at fust have re- volted from the idea; but remembering her own unhappy case, and fearing that the fatal error into- which her husband had fallen, (for of selfish or of interest- ed views, in forming a connexion with herself she had never accused Harry Elwyn), she had been thus particular in warning her youthful protegee. Although Mrs. Elwyn tried to conceal the disappointment which she expe- rienced, on seeing Belford return unac- companied by Mr. Elwyn, yet it wound- H 4 edt ISS SUBSTANCE AND SHADOtf. ed h-er soul — her raichful heart; to be? denied a Ki.^t look of the beloved oi>ject, for whom she had saerificed all her earthly prospects, and all her earthly happiness, was painfully, acutely felt, even, when her entire resignation to the- will of Heaven, and the fortitude with which she contemplated her approach- ii>g dissolution, might,, in some measure,, have been supposed to- have blunted these sensaHorjs. — But On some fond bresst the parting soul reKes, Some pious drop the closing eye requires ; Even from the tomb tlie voice of Nature cries. Even in our ashes hve the wonted fires. The constant and the faithful heart ot virtuous woman, clings with its last sigh to the object of early and pure attach- ment; of this rtature was the attachment ql Mrs. Elwyn ; it had upborne it^^U in the SUBSTANCE AVD SHADOW. 15&' the midst of coldness, estrangement, and neglect, and it did not reproach Mr.. Ehvyn for this last instanre of unkind- ncss; for every jarring, evnry warring sentiment, was extirpated from her pious breast; and in the arms of her beloved Mary Ellis she resigned her last breatbi while beseeching Keaven to shower dov/n its blessings on the heads of Mr. Elwyn, on her child, and on Harry Belford, who, overcome with grief, knelt at the foot of the bed, (and clasped bis hands^ in speechless biit pious earnestness, lift- ing up his eyes to Heaven, as if to wit- ness the sacredness of his promise), as the expiring saint, pointing to Mary- Ellis, besought hk care of her. Such scenes as these have truly been said to better the heart. In the con-- templation of the latter end of such a H 5 woman^ W4f SUB3-TAKCE AND SHADOW* •woman, the soul seems, purified from all selfish, from, all gross fedings. Belford lifted up a fervent: aspiration for &uch an happy exit to himself; and whil^ he took the hand of Mary, in order ta speak words of comfort, he approached her with the respect and veneration witU which he would have addressed a rair nistering angel, for such had she appeare?i to him. Poor: Mary comM' not be comforted— " I weep, dear Mr. Belford,'* said shej ** but it is for myself I weep ;. leave me^ leave me now— let me give way to iny feelings for a few- hours— I shall then be better — I will then try to frame my mind to some degree of comp.or sure.'* Belford. pressed her hand in silenae> Bnd retired to acquaint Mr. Elwyn witk SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW^ 155 the melancholy event which had taken place, and to give the necessary orders^, and make arrangements for the removal, of the body to Elwyn HalL ffS CHAP. M^ SUBSTANCB AND SHADOW. GHAP. XI: Ba fold mis(ieed& of former timesjv. Wring with remorse thy guilty breast^ And ghosts of -anforgiven-crimeS) Murder thy rest, LashM by the furies of the mind, From wrath aad vengeance wouldst thou fleer MONTGOMERTi We will not weary our readers with a minute detail of these cheerless scenes ; suffice it to observe, that Mary Ellis and Belford preceded the hearse which con- tained the remains of their lamented,- friend, in a mourning chariot, the sor- 'vant^ following in a coax:h. By the express desire of Mr. Elwyn^ StTBSTAN€E AND SHADOW. J 57" the melancholy procession did not rest at the Hall, but proceeded immediately to the parish church. As they slowly pass- ed through the village of Norton, and the heavy bell of death first struck on the ear of Mary, she leant back in the car^ rjage, all her fortitude seemed to forsake her at the sound, and the consoling and. encouraging voice of her companion was scarcely heard in this excess of grief; but the chaise stopt at the church- yard-gate, and through that walk, v^here her kind protectress had often leant on, her youthful arm, it was now poor Mary's turji to be supported by Bel ford. The servants of the Hall, the tenantry, and the sorrowing peasants, lined the way, and sighs and tears only broke on. the silence. Mr. Elwyn was missing; ke had signified to Belford that he was unable 158 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. unable to witness the scene ; and as he had made that an excuse where his pre- sen re might have given comfort, Bel- ford did not wish to tax his feelings oiv the present occasion. Mary Ellis seemed as if she had lost all that the world contained worth liv- ing for, when the corse was interred in i)\e family vault of the Elwyns ; but she remembered that she was now going to- meet Mr. Elwyn, and that she must en- deavour to put in practice some of that advice with respect to her future con- duct, which had been given her by one whom it had hitherto been her delight to obey. The manly soul of Belford sympa- thized with the lovely girl, but he tried,^ by his steady manner, to infuse some- portion, of resolution inio her. Mar^ STJESTANCE AND^SHaDOW. Vd9^ Miary had always feared Mr. Elwyn, be- cause she had always perceived that she >vas not beloved by him, and this feelings had added to her natural reserve in his presence; 7iow it seemed as if her imar gination was. conjuring up his recent? neglect of her beloved protectress, more painfully to distress her; and she trem* bled from head to foot, as Belford aK most lifted her from the chaise, and as- sisted her across the hall to the library, where Mr. E!wyn was sitting by the fire^ Xhe windows were already closed, and candles were lighted, though, it was yet early in the afternoon, and the sun had not reached the end of his daily career; but the idea of seeing the fune- ral procession, as it passed through the long avenue which led from, the Hall ta the. MO" SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. the villa-ge church, (and which hv^d been the accustomed burial-path time imme- morial), was insupportable to Mr. El- wyn, who would also^ had it been pos- sible, have stopt all entrance to his earS;, when the bell announced to him the ex- pected approach of the procession, Alas ! it would have seemed as if he had wilfully closed the avenues of his heart, to give force and bitterness to the com* plicated emotions of his anguished and tortured spirit. A large folding screen concealed Mary Ellis from the view of Mr. Elwyn ^ with something like a forcible action, she withdrew her arm from the support- ing one of Belford, and while she im- pelled him forwards, she yet lingered feehind the screen, putting her hand to h-e? SUBSTANCE ANB SKADOW. 161 her panting side, as if to acquire reso« Iu:ion. " My dear &ir^ how are you ?" asked Eelford. '* Harry^ my dear fellow, my dearest boy, arc you come ? is it past — is it ali over ? how «:lad I am to see you !" Mr. Elwyn's voice seemed obstructed^ his words were hurried. Mary now advanced, but her pallid cheeks, her tearful eyes, her agitated frame, as she tottered towards Mr. El- wyn, all spoke a language too intelli- gible to him; he started, and as she ivould have taken his hand, he turned from her, and burst into tears. *' It is too much, Henry," said he ; " it is too much — I can't bear it. Harry, take her away, if you will not have me die before- T62 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. before you. I cannot bear to look zt her/^ Poor Mary heard no more ; she sunk fainting on the floor, and was borne out of the room by the kind and generous Belford, ^vho, hastily giving her to the care of the housekeeper, returaed to his benefactor. Belford saw, and deeply lamented', that weakness and imbecilitv of mind \v'hich had so fatally usurped the place of every manly sentiment in the character of Mr. Elwyn, and he resolved to seize the present opportunity of making known the last wishes and intentions of Mrs. Elwyn with regard to Mary Ellis. He must have wanted discernment and observation, if he had not alwavs^ noticed the iudifferenGe with which Mr, Elwya SUBSTANCE AND SHADO\r. 16v> Elwyn had treated this gentle girl; but he had, at the same time, felt his in- dulgence to himself, and had seen thnt this had been an all-engrossing pre* ference. Mrs. Ehvyn's capacious- heart had taken an interest in his weirnre, as well as in that of Mary ; but dreadful would be the fate of this poor girl, if in losing her kind and afiectionate pro* tecti*ess, she should find hersel-f not only an object of indifTerence, but abnost of disgust and aversion to him, who was to supply to her the place of all she bjid Jost. Painful as the duty was, and conscious that the subject was a most ungrateful one to the mind of Mr. Elwyn, yet Bel- ford did not falter in the task he had de* p.uted to. himself; he went through a.. cursory- 164 SUBSTANOE AND SHADOW,. cursory review of the patience, the re* signation^ and the fortitude which Mrs. Elwyn had evinced on her deathbed^ and entered into a minute detail of her •wishes, with regard to the future desti- nation of Mary, as expressed to him, and through him to be communicated to Mr. Elwyn. As Belford spoke, Mr. Elwyn. exhibited evident symptoms of uneasiness. When he mentioned the sum which Mrs. Elwyn had requested him to bestow on Mary Eilis, (and which she had like- Avise specified in a short address, which she had written to her husband) — *' Four thousand pounds !" repealed Mr. Elwyn ; " poor Clara ! always modest — always considerate— always fearful of overstep- ping the bounds of justice — always set- ting limits to thy noble liberality of spirit. SUBSTAVCR AND SHADOW. 165 'Spirit. Jf thou hadst said ten, twenty, ihirty, it should have been hers." " I know it would," said Belford, his brioht eyes sparkling; '^ but Mary Ellis, if I rightly estimate her turn of nt^ind, would not have felt happier for the addition." " I could hare wished/' said Mr. EI- wyn, *' that she might have been allow- ed to fix her residence any where but here." " And why, my dear sir?" asked Bel- ford with eagerness ; '' why should such a wish arise in your breast ? I am con- scious that it was on your account^ more than on that of Miss Ellis, that our departed friend recommended her resi- dence here." *' On my account, Harry?" *' Yes, 16G SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. '' Yes, sir, on your account. MfS. Elwyn knew, that in the soothing deli- cacy, in the devotedness of female atten- tion, there is something which is denied to our rougher sex ; bereft of her sa- ciety, of her converse, of her fond, of her attentive cares, who would cheer^- who would enliven — who would admi- nister to you — who but this good girl? who, trained up in the principles and practice of her revered friend, will feel it the pride and the glory of her life, to be in the remotest degree instrumental to your comfort." '' Well, well, she may stay — she is to stay — Clara commanded it," said Mr. Elwyn, with some degree of peevishness. " And vou will bless her for it," said Belford, with much warmth ; " without ^e- male SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 167 imale society, what should the best of us become ? and now that death has de- prived you of her — " " No more — no more, Harry ; not a word more, if you love me,'* said Mr. Elvvyn, starting from his seat. " Foigive me, my best friend," said Belford, " fur thus cruellv remindino; you of the extent of your loss. Alas !'' continued he, with a deep-drawn sigh, we all feel it to be Trreparable/* Mr. Elvvyn walked to the other end of the room, he clasped his hands in agony, he almost groaned as he said — " Harry, Harry Belford, I believe I shall go distracted !'* Belford was awed ijito silence by the unaccountable €Tnotion of Mr. Elwyn ; for it seemed unaccountable to him, that a man, who could feel so acutely, and who IGS SU^STAVCE AND ?HAD6#. ■^vho exhibited such undissembled marlcs ofsorrow at the death of his wife, should yet have treated her with such cold and cutting neglect during her life, and have cruelly refused her last— her dying request. Bel ford was at this period new to the emotions of the human heart, he had never before witnessed the '' compunc* tious visitings of conscience/' Mary Ellis soon recovered her sense and recollection ; but it was some time ere she ventured again to obtrude her- self into the presence of Mr. Elwyn ; she might have absented herself entirely, and not have feared that an inquiry %vould have been made after her from the master of the mansion, (so wholly in- significant did she seem in his estima- tion); but when he happened to cast his SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 169 his eves accidentally on her grief-worn countenance, immediately were they withdrawn, for it seemed as if the alte- ration he there witnessed always carried a pang to his heart. At these moments the kindness and consideration of Belford were deeply felt by our amiable orphan ; he stre- nuously endeavoured to d^tert his pa- tron's mind to another subject; and he never drew his attention tow\irds her, unless when a gleam of cheerfulness overspread her featu];es, or some degree of gaietv was perceptible in her con\ er- sation. In the most trifling instances, he discovered a scrupulous care of wound- ing her delicacy, or embarrassing her feelings. The first time that she made one of the dinner-party, he saw the diffidence VOL. I, I with 170 SUBSTANCE AT^B SHAd'*'W, with which she entered ; he saw the pain- ful recollections which threatened to overcome her, on seeing the head of that table vacant, which used to be graced by one, whose refined sense and comprehensive mind had been the soul of the repast. He marked the irreso- lute step with which she seemed to linger, as if waiting for Mr. Elvvyn ^o tell her where to place herself; with that promptness of decision, which, when accompanied by judgment, is of incalculable advantage in our journey through life, Belford took her hand, znd seating her where from infancy she had been seen, (near the loved mistress of the mansion), as he said — " I will take this office on myself,'' he sat down at the head of the table ; thus sparing Mary Ellis from the hazard of displeas- ing SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 175 ing Mr. Elwyn by doing wrong, and preventing the mutual embarrassment, -which would have naturally ensued, had her diffident eyes constantly met those of Mr. Elwyn, (when they were lifted from her plate), and had he beheld in them (as he usually seemed to do) the silent accusers of his conduct. Mary Ellis, with an activity of mind \vhich she had ever been accustomed by her benefactress to prize, and to en- courage, as the first of human blessings, resumed those occupations and employ- ments in which she had been used to pass her time ; and though she seemed to have lost the stimulus to all her exer- tions, the master-spring of all her ac- tions, in losing this dear friend, yet that friend had given her too right a no- tion of the duties of a Christian, for her I 2 to 172 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. to SLifTer herself to sink into supineness and despondency. In being still permitted to inspect the village school^ vvhich Mrs. Elwyn had founded ; in being still permitted to assist those poor cottagers, who had been used to be benefited by that dear friend's bounty ; and in visiting, as here- tofore, the sick and disabled children of industry, she felt that she was pursuing that course which had been marked out for her. While in cultivating those flowers which Mrs. Elwyn had most ad- mired ; in rearing, in fostering those plants which she had beheld with an eye of pleasure, the most grateful, the most sacred feelings of solitary satisfaction seemed to infuse themselves into the mind of our youthful orphan ; and of- ten, in the fulness of her heart, would she SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 173 she piously recollect the many mercies and blessings which were yet retained to her. She had a respectable protector in Mr. Elwyn — a honie of com Tort under his roof — a kind, a considerate, an affec- tionate friend in Harry Beiford ; and that kindness, that consideration, that affection, had shone forth tenfold since the demise of her first friend ; and if her society could in any shape, could in the most trifling way, be useful to iMr. Elwyn, how delightful would be the idea of returning some small part of that obligation which she owed to his protection ! and how pleasing must such conduct be to the sanctified spirit of Mrs. Elwyn, were it permitted her, from the regions of blessedness, to take no- I 3 tice i?^ SUBSTAKCE AND SriADOW. tice of those whom she had once valued lelow ! We shall be accused of drawing our heroine (as is usual with all novelists) a creature of perfectio?i, though it must be allowed, that the two words thus joined are a contradiction in terms; but our design is to shew the practical advantages of a judicious education, and the stabi- lity and the strength of mind which may be derived from an early know- ledge of religion, and an exercise of its duties, even by a weak and timid fe*- male. Mary Ellis wajs attractive in person, but to those onli/ who were accustom- ed to look for natural beauties ; she had great difhdence in her manner, and very little enthusiasm in her expressions; neither SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 175 neitlier had she much romance in her composition ; yet her feelings were by- nature acute, and her heart alive to every painful and pleasurable emotion. With the death of Mrs. Elwyn, the '^vish of one dav discovering^ her sister seemed to have taken a firmer hold on the mind of Mary ; and, perhaps, the idea was not, at thi^ time^ without its beneficial effects, as it, in some measure, diverted her thoughts, and turned them into another current. Hope flushed her animated features at the prospect of being known — of being restored to this long-lost sister ; she would retrace the circumstances of her infant days, and dwell on the description of the lady ^vho had taken her sister away, as given her by Mrs. Elwyn ; but naturally prone to extenuate, and willing to encourage I 4 cheerful 1«76 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. cheerful ideas in the breast of her child, iheliopes, and not the fears, which that eccentric and mysterious female*s protection might have been likely to have produced^ were alone displayed to Mary ; for Mrs. Elwyn had long given up all idea of hearing of the fate of the other orphan. In being restored to her sister — in having a relative claim on one human being, there was something so approxi- mate to the disposition of our heroine^ that she could not help believing that she should one day see it realized ; and in the bright tints in which youth is used to deck a favourite perspective, she ex* pected to be pressed to the arms, and received into the heart of all that was amiable, good, and virtuous. In contradiction to what we have re* marked SUBSTANCE AND SFIADOW. 177 marked above, this idea may be called enthusiastic, and breathing the true spi- rit of romance ; but we would rather Inve it called the ardent glow of sisterly affection. From reveries of this kind Mary fre- quently roused herself, acknowledged the improbability of having her wishes realized, and by more sedulous attention to her pursuits, she endeavoured to be thoroughly content with such things as were granted to her, and not to waste her time in shadowy visions, when sub- stantial blessings were within her reach. Mr. Elwyn had retained all the do- mestics of his late lady, and from the old housekeeper to the kitchen-maid, there was not one of them who did not respect and love the gentle Mary. Since the death of Mrs. Elwyn, no I 5 ladies 178 SUBSTANCE AND SHADO^r. ladies bad visited at the Hall ; Mary ElUs not being recognised as its mistress by ^fr. Ehvyn, her name being seldom mentioned by him, her having taken no tfonsequence upon 'her since her return, (but on the contrary, appearing to con- duct herself with greater humility than :she had done before), her disappearance when any gentlemen had called at the Hall, and her continuing to sit at the side of the table, (all which particulars^ had been scrupulously inquired into by the decorous females of Norton), had determined it against her. " In the best of days, Elwyn Hall had not been a very gai/ house to visit at ; there was something very odd, and very unaccountable, certainly, about Mr. El- wyn." There existed no Jaiv^ however, against brothers,, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 17D brothers, and fathers, and uncles, and sons, and twelfth male coimns, inviting Mr. Bel ford to all the parties in the vi- cinity; so it wasfinallydecided, wem. con. that Miss Ellis was not to be taken no- tice of — she was nothing — nobody ; and if her origin should ever be discovered, in all probability, they might have to hug themselves on this prudential resolve. Poor Mary Ellis never having con- ceived herself to be anijlody, was not surprised at receiving Jio civilities from those ladies who used to be so atten- tive to her when they visited Mrs. El- wyn. Mrs. Elwyn was gone, and shs had not an idea of meriting a shadow of distinction on her own account. From how many mortifications — from how many slights is a traly humble mind shielded I 1 6 CHAP. 180 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. CHAP. xn. The f)asS!ons are the chief destroyers of our peace; the storms and tempests of the moral world (to extir- pate them is impossible, if it were desirable) ; but to Tegulate them by habitual care, is not so difficult, and 18 certainly worth all our attention. Knox. The spirits of Mr. Ehvyn seemed in some measure to have recovered from their temporary depression ; he was as partially indulgent ^.s ever to his fa- vourite, yet of late there had been somethin<2; particular in his manner when tl)ey \^eve]ei\ieie'd-let€; frequently had Mn Elwvn called off Belford's attention from the book he was reading, and had began , \ STIBSTANXE AND SIIADO^V. ISl began to address him with an air of ex- traordinary seriousness, when Bel ford having put himself into an attitude of profound and respectful attention, in- stantaneously the resolve of Mr. Elwyn seemed to be changed, and pointing to him to continue his studies, he had resumed his seat, and his usual air of abstraction. More than once had he started from his chair, and as if on the point of com- municating something of great moment, had placed himself close to the ear of his expecting auditor, and scarcely had he uttered a sentence, ere his whole soul seemed to recoil from the purposed communication ; and Belford had again been left to conjecture what undisco- vered secret thus troubled the spirit of his patron. Mrs. Elwyn had now been a month . dead. 18-2 SU!5STANCE AND SHADQ-^. dead, and Mr. Elvvyn had one afternoon been more than usually quick in taking his wine. Mary Ellis had long quitted the dining-room, and on the servants ap- pearing with candles, Mr. Elwyn said~ " No, take them away, we will ring when we want them." — ^His spirits forti- fied by wine, and shrouded from the piercing gaze of Belford by the tem- pered light, he drew nearer to the fire, and pointing to him, said — *' Come nearer, Harry." Belford obeyed in silence. *' We have been verv dull of late: will you take a journey withme ?'* '' Certainly," said Belford ; '' it will give me great pleasure to attend you, my dear sir, as I flatter myself that the change will be very beneficial to your health and spirits.'* SUBSTANCE AND SIIADO^r. 13.3 '* I flatter myself too, perhaps/' re- plied Elwyn; '' but I think it wil!. Harry, I think you do not remember your mother ?" The question startled Belford ; he had never before heard Mr. Elwyn mention the name of either of his parents ; he had always undei-stood that they had died when he was an infant; he looked at Mr. Elwyn, as if to know whether he heard aright ; that gentleman, however, proceeded with the hurried articulation which a person may be supposed to use, who wants to get over a painful recital. " She must be very anxious to sec you, I am sure — I mean to take you to see your mother.'* " To see my mother !" repeated Bel- ford ; " to see my mother!** and seizing .his patron's hand, as if fearing that his senses 184 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. senses were quitting him, he said — '^ My dearest sir, recollect yourself a moment ; your Harry Belford is the child of your bounty — he is an orphan — deprived of both his parents." '' No, no ; not so, Harry^'* answered Mr. Elwyn, pressing his hand with im- pulsive tenderness; *' your mother lives ! your — you shall see her, my dear boy — you shall be held to the heart of your mother.'* '' Almighty God ! wliat is it you tell nie ?" cried Belford ; *' oh, pray sir, I conjure you, deceive me not — but say, where is this dear — this long-estranged parent r Oh, take me to her— lead me to her— and fear not, that while I evince my duty to her, my affection towards yourself can ever know diminution/* *' I hope not, I trust not, Harry,*' said SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 185 said Mr. Eiwyn, pressing his outspread hand upon his heaving breast ; *' but hear me, hear me out, and interrupt me not. — It is now something more than two-and-twenty years ago since your father, a young unthinking man, of good family and expectations, by acci- dent saw vour mother. She was then in the bloom of fifteen, and never did the eye light on a lovelier object; she was pure as an angel — simple as an infant — guileless as a dove; in comparison of your father's, her situation in life was humble — she was an orphan, and under the protecting care of a brotiier, who, with the scanty stipend annexed lo a village cure, sheltered his sister from want, and secured her comfort, while he shielded her from insult. This clergy- man had been a college acquaintance of your I8-& ■ SUBSTANCE AND SHAD3\r^ your father's^ and while making a lii'tle pleasurable tour, he happened to ligbr on this humble residence of innocence and piety. He saw — he loved the a«gel girl I ha\e described.'* Bclford started from his seat, and clasp- ing his bands furiously together, he cried out, with all the fatal impetuosity which characterized his disposition — ^* Oh, say not that he seduced her — say not, I charge ycu^ say not that a. villain tri- umphed over her fall — oh, say not, for God's sake, say not, that your Harry BeKo'd is the child of shame !" and the/i he fell back in his chair, as if entirely overpowered by the oppressive weight of his feelings^ . Elvvvn trembled as he sat — '' No, no!" cried he; '' oh, hear me, hear me out; Uarrv, hear me sav, from ///a/ guilt vour father SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 187 father was spared — he married her — the ceremony was solemnized in the parish church of which her brother was the pastor." '' My father was a man of honour I" said Belford, in a tone of the most proud emotion ; " thanks, thanks be to Heaven, I am not an illegitimate child!'* '' In that instance," said Mr. Elwyn ; '' in this instance — oh, what was I say- ing ? hear me out, for mercy's sake,. Harry — do not interrupt me. I have said that your father had good expecta-- tions, but his were only reversionary prospects; and your grandfather having, impaired his paternal fortune, naturally wished to secure one to his son, by an. advantageous matrimonial alliance. An engagement of this kind had been en- tered into with a young; lady, a relative of 188 SUBSTANCE A>'D SHADOW. of the family : the passive consent of the young man had been gained previous to his seeing vour inother. But ihei:, what had the prudential maxims of his father to oppose t.^ such an all-engross- ing passion as his P his marriage was kept secret — his frequent absences from home were n t inquired into by his in- dulgent parents — neither by the easy object of their choice. Harry, let no cnc say he can withstand temptation till he has met the trial. In his early years, had the book of his succeeding life been opened to him, your father, likeHazael, woald have said — ' Is thy servant a dog to do this thing?' To his first faulty conduct, to his clandestine and con- cealed marriage, ensued the long cata- logue of his crimes." — Belford started— '' lie dared not confess his marriage to . his SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. , 189 his father — neither to the hady to whom he had been plighted ; for while the former looked forward to his speedy and certain advancement, the latter credu- lously believed herself the object of his fondest love. Your father had been nurtured on the lap of ease and luxury ; he had imbibed ideas of expence and profusion, but ill according with the connexion he had formed; bred to no profession — used to little exertion, he had no means of maintaininii h's w^fe. Ah ! why seek to extenuate-— -why dwell for a moment on this ungrateful, this piercing subject ? The clergyman, the brother of your mother, died of a con- tagious fever, which he had taken in ad- ministering the last solemn offices of re- ligion to a sick parishioner. The time drew near when your father was ex- pected 1^0 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. pected to unite himself with the other lady — he succeeded in deceiving the un- sophisticated mind of his wife — she be- lieved what lie told her, that the mar- riage being solemnized before she was of age, was consequently illegal, and that it had been otherwise informal. With her brother she had lost her only adviser, her only relative; and passively relinquishing her boy to the sole care of his father, she silently sought the asylum which lie had prepared for fier." '' Dear suflTering angel V ejaculated Belford. '*■ Your father then resigned himself to the wishes of his family, and married the lady they had chosen for him.'* '' Married 1 married did you say — married?" groaned out Belford; "mar- ried ? and was this vil- " the word was SUESTANCE AND SIIADOW. 191 ^ivas hut half-uttered — " and was this my father?" He strode about the room in agony ; then walking up to Mr. Elwyn, whose emotion was but too evident, as he wit- nessed the tumultuous anguish of Bel- ford's jarring feelings. — *' Oh sir, tell me — tell me — where — when — lioiv did he die?" and then falling back, with fearfulJy uplifted hands, as if he ex- pected to hear that he had been his own executioner. " He lives, my son!" cried Mr. EI- wyn, sinking on his knees before him ; " he lives ! behold him here — Harry, behold your father !'* " My father ? — Mr. Elwyn — my be- nefactor — my friend !'' cried Belford, throwing his arms round him, tenderly embracing him, and lifting him upon his scat 192 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. seat — "Oh, my father!" then suddenly recollecting the virtues and the injuries cf the deceased Mrs. Elwyn, of the amiable friend, of the irreproachable protectress of Mary Ellis, he retreated to another part of the room, and burst into tears. A long explanation ensued to this af- fecting discovery. The ardent and impetuous disposition of Bel ford impelled him to seek his mother immediately, and he eagerly de- manded Mr. Elwyn's promise for setting out on the journey the following morn* ing. Yes, he should be introduced — he should be known to this lovely, this n'iuch -injured parent — no longer would she mourn in solitude and sorrow the disappointment of her early prospects-— her rJBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 193 Jier estrangement from her child ; she would be restored to the arms of her husband — she would appear to the world in her real character — she would ac- knowledge her son, her legitimate son ; from henceforth, he should bear the name of his father ; he should be known — he should be received as the lineal heir of Mr. Elwyn. These were bright prospects, well calculated to sooth the high spirit, and to blow the latent pride of Belford into a flame ; but quickly were his sensations changed, for when, with the most un- dissembled satisfaction, he expressed himself on the subject of his mother's restoration to fame, and to a highly re- spectable situation in society, he was stopped by the piercing groan of his ,fa- voL. I. K ther. — 194 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ther. — '' Alas ! my poor Harry, in vin- dicating the honour of your injured mo- ther, would you pass sentence on that of your father?" The question was unanswerable — Bel- ford felt it through his whole frame, which thrilled with horror; yet, start- ing up, he cried — '' Oh, tell me what you would do ? would you introduce a son io a parent, and still let that parent behold in him the child of her degrada- tion and infamy ? Oh, why, why was this fatal discovery made to me, if still—" " Harry, have patience ; have a little command over your feelin^js, and hear me/' Bel ford was recalled to recollection, and his countenance again assumed that air !?UBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 1^5 air of respectful consideratieii with which he had been always used to re- gard Mr. Eiwyn. *' It has long been my determination/* said Mr. Elvvyn, ^' to bring your mother to the Hall as its mistress; the declining health of — of poor Clara had prej^ared me for the event, and determined me as to my future conduct — my injury to her had been irreparable. I had no alterna- tive, but to let her die in ignorance of my guilty conduct ; but fearful that the sight of her suflTerings might bereave me of my self-command, I refused — I could not consent to her — to go — you know what I would say, Harry. In de- claring myself the husband of your mother, I am fulfilling an act of duty towards you. You must have no doubts on the subject — I will shew you the mar- K 2 riage 196 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. riage certificate, and from henceforth yon shall not only feel yourself my son, but you shall be called by the name of Elwyn/' The eyes of Belford were in- Toluntarily lighted by added brilliancy, as he heard these latter words — '' This, for your sake^ my child; but to carry some appearance of propriety to the %vorId, I shall again unite myself, and that publicly, to your mother." '' But why r* asked Belford, with quickness, '^ why, if the first marriage be legal, why the necessity of a second? will not such a proceeding appear to establish the criminality of the former connexion ? shall I not still appear the child of infamy ?" ^' And would you have me throw my- self at once upon the world the thing I am— a cool decided villain? Shall I acknowledge SiJBSTANCE AND SHADOV7. 197 acknowledge the dissimulation which for a long term of years I practised on a woman, whose virtues, whose talents^ whose greatness^ whose undeviating goodness^ were seen, were known to all? shall I hold myself up to view an object of universal abhorrence and scorn ? and shall that heart, which long has borne the barbed arrow, at length burst with agony ?'* '* Oh, no — no, my father, my friend! pity, pardon me !** cried Bel ford ; " but overwhelmed by a contrariety of new, of overpowering emotions, I know not what I say, nor scarcely what I think." " Had the much-abused Clara any re* lative to whom I could make restitution for the injuries I heaped upon her,*' continued Mr. Elwyn, " I would with joy, with satisfaction, relinquish that for- K 3 tune 1§S SUBSTA^*CS AND SHADOW. tune for which I sacrificed my principles^ for which I bartered my integrity, but which never contributed to my happi- ness. She had no friend, no relative but myself; and I, how did J abuse the sacred trust ?" Mr. Elwyn paused, and then resumed as follows : — -" Your mo- ther, I have said, believed our marriage informal ; and consequently^ now that I. am at liberty to make another choice, she will feel herself restored to fame and character. In her retirement she lias z%f sumed the name of Belford, and has passed for a widow — you are her son ; and if I suffer you to take my name, on bringing your parent to the Hall, the world may conjecture what it pleases — 2/ou will know the truth; and at wj/ death, it then may be discovered. Oh, spare, spare me only till theUy Harry 1" and SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 199 antl Mr. EJwyn, with clasped hands, looked beseechingly ?x his son. Belford was deep y affected, and re- turning an answer of mingled respect and feeling, he besought Mr. Elwyn to let him retire, and endeavour to tran- quillize his mind ; but alas ! a most dif- ficult task still awaited Belford ; Mr. El- wyn commissioned him to prepare Mary Ellis for the reception of the new mis- tress of the Hall. — '' Take an opportu- nity of doing so this evening, Harry," said Mr. Elwyn ; *' I shall retire to the li- brary ; explain as much to her^ — say what you think fit. For this cause it was that I could have wished her de- ceased friend had not recommended her jresidence here." ^' Why — why, my dear sir?" asked Belford, with his accustomed ardour ; R 4 '' will 200 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. '' will not the society — will not the con- verse of my amiable mother, such as you have poiirtrayed her to me — will not these beofinvaluablebenefit to the gentle Mary ? will not my mother soon learn to estimate the mild retiring graces of her character ? and when the awkward- ness of the first introduction is over^ will it not be a mutual benefit ? and^ in the reciprocal interchange of good offi- ces, will not theid* comforts be aug- mented — their happiness improved ?*' " I hope so/' answered Elwyn, as he motioned towards the door. Belford understood his meaning, and left the room ; but he took his hat in the halL and walked for some time in the avenue leading to the house, ere he could attain resolution to seek Mary Ellis. Good SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 20) Good Heavens ! what a recital had he just heard ! and how did he pity, accuse, extenuate, lament, and mourn by turns, as he thought of his mother, of his fa- ther, and of the excellent, the rnuch-in- jured woman, who had so long usurped the place of another — unconsciously, innocently usurped it ! To tell the child of her benevolence of the base, the de- ceitful conduct of the man she had call- ed her husband — of her nearest relative, while that child's soft eyes were yet moistened with tears for her death — and to tell her that this man was his own father — oh, dreadful, heart-piercing idea ! '^ No, it cannot — cannot be,^' said Bel- ford, " I cannot teach the gentle girl to hate me — to despise my father ; what then shall I dare acknowledge, or rather ask — what shall I dare conceal ? Dissimu- k5 lation. 902 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. lation, what pangs dost thou inflict upon an open and ingenuous mind !" Belford saw, and deeply lamented the fatal weakness of his father's character ; he had courage to confess a part, but not the whole of his nefarious conduct to the world ; he still feared its condem- nation, although he had voluntarily de- lied a higher and more dread tribunal ; and though, by involving his former connexion with Mrs. Belford in mys- tery, he would most assuredly affix an imputation on her character, and hold up his son to the world in a '' ques- tionable shape,'* yet he still pertina- ciously adhered to this half-deceptive and half-repentant conduct, and selfishly shrouded his own guilt, though con- scious that his only refuge consisted in the apparent culpability of the innocent mother SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, 203 motlicr of his son. — " Let me not dwell on this subject/* thought Bclfor 1 ; '' oh, let me cautiously scan a parent's faults!" K 6 CHAP. ^4f SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. CHAP. XIIL " Oh, fate unjust, Of womankind," she cxied. SOUTHEY. Belford knew where to find Mary Ellis* In a little apartment, which had been fitted up by her benefactress for her use, and which had been the daily, almost the hourly scene of her early instructions, and which now exhibited, in the books, the pictures, the furniture, and in an hun- dred inanimate objects, memorials of her kind care and of her tender alfection ; to this little sanctuary Mary retired, with all the reverential fondness which may SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 205" may be supposed to fill the soul of the devotee when visiting the shrine of his tutelar saint. Here she again seemed to hear the voice of her beloved Mrs. El- wyn ; it spoke to her in every article which surrounded her ; and here^ as if she was still conscious of being beheld, and being approved by her, she delighted in pursuing thosestudies, and those occupa- tions which she had more particularly recommended. A gentle tap at the door was answered- by the soft voice of Mary ; and looking round to see the intruder, she hastily rose on seeing it was Mr. Belford. " I am not come to disturb you, Mary," said he; '' sit down;'* but hia hand trembled as he took hers to reseat her. *' I want to say a great deal to you, so you must give me a cup of tea tcte- 206 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. iite-d'tHe to-nio:ht, for Mr. Elwvn has desired not to be interrupted : we are both going on a journey to-morrow^ and he has some business to settle.'* " Both going?" repeated Mary; " this journey is sudden — is it not, Mr. Bel- ford?" " Yes, it is," answered he; and he grew more confused as he endeavoured to proceed. '' I am glad Mr. Elwyn has summoned resolution to leave home,** said Mary ;. " he will be the better for the change ; this place must every irjoment remind us of her who is for ever gone. There is no accounting,'* continued she, *' for the different effects such a remembrance produces on different dispositions. Ta Mr. Elwyn it evidently conveys the most distressing sensations; but for myself, believe SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 207 believe me, when I say it gives me a feel- ing which, though I cannot describe it, I would not be divested of for worlds.'* Mary spoke with more than usual ani- mation; the recent scenes in which they had been joint partners^ and the amiable light in which Belford had appeared, had insensibly divested her manner of all that timidity and reserve which she used to feel in expressing her sentiments to him. Since the death af her protectress^ he had been her only friend and confi- dant. '^ Some cloud hangs on your brow, Mr. Belford," said Mary ; '' tell me, do I not guess aright I have you not been reviewing the scene in which we both took a melancholy part on this day month ? eyen now, I seem to her.r the solemn 208 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. solemn bell, which told us all our earthly- duties were ended." " Yes, I well recollect that it was oh this day month that we returned to the Hall/' answered Belford, with a sigh: " but, Mary, I am come to tell you of an important event, of a circumstance which has just been made known to me — I have found a parent." Mary Ellis started ; she fixed her eyes on his agi- tated countenance. *' Yes, Mary, I am going with Mr. Elwyn to be introduced to my mother.'' *' Your mother?" asked Mary; " and have you a mother living ? Oh, happy, happy Belford ! and have you then found •what I have just lost for ever ? But tell me," continued Mary, who did not suf- fer selfish regrets to take place of the nn- dissembled SUBSTANeE AND SHADOW. 20 5> dissembled satisfaction whicli she felt in Belford's recovery of a parent, " tell me, why have you been kept thus long in ignorance of her existence ? I al- ways thought you were an orphan like myself; and Mrs. Elwyn thought so — surely Mrs. Elwyn thought so?" and she seemed to ask the question of Belford. " I liope she thought so !" hastily cried he; but checking his emotions, he said — *^ Mr. Elwyn, you know, has hitherto supplied the place of both my parents to me ; but now he kindly — now he is going to make me known to my mother; she haslived in retirement for many years. My father was — my father was well known to my — to Mr. Elwyn ; my mo- ther is to return with us to the Hall. Say, Mary, will you not love her? will you 210 SUBSTANCE ASD SHADOW. you not esteem her ? will you not respect my mother ?'* " Yes," said Mary with warmth, *' I owe you many, many obligations^ Mr. Belford ; you 1 ave been uniformly kind, attentive, and affectionate to me ; and now that — now that the mistress of this house is no longer here, Mary Ellis will do her utmost to make it comfortable to. ?vlrs. Belford, to evince her respect for your mother." " Generous good girl!" said Belford, pressing her hand; *' and even if you should see her appear in another cha- racter — if you should find that by doing so the happiness of Mr. Elwyn was aug- mented — oh, Mary, if he should intro- duce her as his wife — " Mary witlidrew her hand. — *^ So soon, sa SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ^l I SO veri/zoon forgotten !" said she, cast- ing her eyes round the room^ as if she were calling every article within it to witness to the truth, the tenderness^ and the virtues of her beloved Mrs. Elvvyn. '* Do I, can I understand you, Mr. Bel- ford ? — have I heard aright.^ and is \t yoti who have said it ? and is it — must it be true ?" Mary took out her handkerchief; she read the answer of Belford in his coun- tenance, and she gave vent to thosa gushing tears which forced their way. This moment appeared to her the most afflictive one which she had ever known- She felt a sensation of indignation rise in her gentle bosom towards Mr. Elwyn —-of disgust towards the woman who could so soon consent to fill the place vacated by her excellent friend. But she was 212 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. was BeUord's mother ; and Belford hiiip- self seemed unable to add a syllable in extenuation of this indecorous haste ; for he sat the image of mute melancholy^ leaning his head on his hand, as he lis- tened to her piercing sighs. '' And when — and how — and where did Mr. Elwyn?— -oh, Mr. Bel ford !" cried Mary, '' tell me all you would have me know ?*' " Dearest Mary/* said Belford, *' the sight of your distress tortures my in- most soul ; only within the last hour have these circumstances been known to me, but if there is truth in tnan, I must- believe that I am the son of a virUwus woman. It seems/' continued Belford, with that confusion which must ever at- tend a voluntary deception in a candid breast — '' it appears," continued he, '' that. StTBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. 2l3 ^' that Mr. Elwyn has long known my mother." *'And /ot;e^ her!" added Mary ; "ah, I now see it as it 7vas ; without a previous attachment, could Mrs. Elwyn's virtues have Toeen slighted, overlooked — could she have been beheld with such cold, such cutting indifference ? oh, Mr. Bel- ford, forgive me if I offend." *' Mary, you cannot offend !" cried Belford, with warmth ; " in the natural expressions of your grateful and inge- nuous mind, can I discern any thing which I do not applaud and admire ? Believe me, dear Mary, that not for his own mother would Belford plead if he thought her unworthy — if he thought her conduct had been faulty; the fos- tered protegee of Mrs. Elwyn shall never become the associate of vice or impru- dence. SH SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. dence. Mr. Elvvyn has assured me that my mother's conduct has been spotless> and that I am the legitimate son of my parents ; he acknowledges that he long has loved my mother— -he represents her as a model of all that is lovely and attractive in woman ; and if my mother <:onsents to gild the evening of my benefactor's days — oh, Mary, shall we not mutually rejoice in his happl- Jiess?" " We ought— I ought/' said Mary, *' I hope I shall — but taken so unawares — this x^ei't; evening — such an unlooked for, such an unexpected change ! my spirits too having been much depressed of late — you must excuse me, Mr. Bel- ford, if I say not all I ought ; but at your return I hope you shall hav€ no cause to condemn me.'* SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. depicted his mother as she had been re- presented to him by Mr. Ehvyn; but while sitting with Mary Ellis before him, and pourtraying all that was amiable, gentle, domestic, and retiring in the fe- male character, our readers may be apt to suspect him of painting from the page that thus lay open to his view^ ra- ther than from one which he had never studied. Of a temper which peculiarly quali- fied her to share in the pleasurable emo- tions of others, because it was so en- tirely divested of egotism and selfish- ness, Mary entered with generous ar- dour into the sanguine emotions of de- light which Bel ford expressed; and she did not endeavour to lower, or to de- tract from those high ideas of perfection and SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 217 snd pre-eminence with which his ra- diant fancy had encircled the form of this maternal relative. lie unfolded to her Mr. EIwyn*s intention of giving him liis family name ; and as Mr. Elwyn was going to marrv the parent, and her son had lonf^ been the son of his fond ad^p^ tion, Mary thought this dcsig;) was very natural. The doubts and suggestions which were likeiv ;o ha\e ari>.en, even in a mind of siiiiplicity like that of Mary LJlis, were entirely dispelled by the so- lemn seriousni ?;s of manner v. hich Bei- ford had assumed, when he had told her that Mr. Khvyn had assured him of his parent's honour. That Mrs. Bel ford must have Icjved Mr. Kh^'yn previous to the decease of his VOL. 1. L wife. 51 S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. •wife, was evident, else how could her sudden acceptance of him be accounted for ? — '' At any rate/' thought Mary, " there must be indelicacy of senti- ment, or defalcation of principle/* This sudden haste seemed inconsistent with that extreme solitude, that rigid privacy, in which Belford had decorated the pic- ture of his amiable recluse, and which he had really understood to have been her situation from Mr. Elwyn. We shall probably tire our readers with the minuteness of our relations, but we have wished to give them a proper insight into the meek and at- tractive qualities of Mary Ellis ; and we have not performed our part, if we have not taught them to look with more partial eyes en Belford during the last month, that he has been the con- soler. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, 219 soler^ the friend, and the encourager of our youthful orphan, than when they saw him dazzling in manly beauty, and decorated with all the attractive graces, pouring out a strain of animated and rapturous admiration into the ear of Lauretta Montgomery. Some characters shine in retirement; alas ! the world presents a wide scene of temptation to the ardent, the self- willed, and the impetuous. How neces- sary is discipline — what miseries are avoided by the judicious controul of these otherwise unruly emotions ! Mr. Elwyn and Harry (by which name we shall henceforth call him, as that of Belford must be dropped in com- pliance with the wishes of the formerj lost no time in setting out on their journey; to have beheld their different L 2 countenances. ■'220 SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. countenances, it might have been ima- gined that the expectant bridegrooai had been the son rather than the father, so full of animated and sparkling ex- pectation were the fine features of the former ; while the once equally hand- some ones of the latter were so blunted by a constant and hacknied course of dissimulation, so bloated by intempe- rance, that they exhibited scarcely 9 trait of human intellect or animation. That Mr. Elwyn had told the truth, and nothing hut the truth to Henry, was certain ; but he had not told the whole intth. As we dare not put off our readers with a cramped or a garbled detail, we must ask their patience and attention^ while we take a cursory review of those transactions and events, which had finally , , . led SUBSTANCK AND SHADOW. 221 led to that journey which our travellers had now undertaken ; but for this ex- planation we must refer them to the se- cond volume. t>D Oy VC7.. z. Printed by Lane, Darling, & Co. Leadenhall-Street, LondSrw NEW PUBLICATIONS PRINTED FOR AT THE LEADENHALL-STREET, LONDON. jC s. S*t'*f'^*i CHAP. L -Ever was iic 5een A faithful pastor! Polvvuele. X HOUGH Mr. Elwyn had received from nature a good understaiiding, yet he had not been gifted with much strength of mind; his father's indulgence had not permitted him to discern this weakness in his son's character; and under little pa- rental discipline or mental controul, en- couraged in pursuing every thing whicH he liked; and while he kept within the bounds of propriety, receiving no check %'OL. ji. B ia 2 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. in his pleasures, it is not surprising that he fell into those errors which embitter- ed his future life. His heart was rightly- formed, his temper was good, his morals were not vicious; but neglecting to for- tify his own imbecility with the firm rock of religion, he shrunk appalled from every thing which opposed his wishes; and unaided by the stability of principle^ or the consolations of piety, he sacrificed every virtuous sentiment, and ultimately became the voluntary victim of vice ! How frequently are the words of sacred writ realized before us! how often do we see *' the sins of the parents visited on their children!" The extravagance of Elwyn's father, the profusion which in the days of youth had impaired and hurt his fortune, and which he had not then considered as an injury SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 3? injury to his son, was brought to his re- flection and his conscience at the decline of life, when avarice not unfrequently takes place of the opposite quality in the human breast. The peculiar situation, the extreme youth, the relative affinity of the orphan heiress, and the reversionary claim of his son, all pointed her out to the doating father as the person destined to repair his errors; and Henry's first lesson from his father had his cousin Clara for its object. Of an inactive disposition, nurtured in luxury, and addicted to its enjoyments, nothing appeared more congenial to the wishes of Henry; and Clara's partial eyes soon viewed her cousin in the light v/hich her uncle desired. Her kind and judi- cious aunt, who loved this amiable girl with an affection equal to that which she B 2 felt Jk SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. felt for her son, was pleased at the pros- pect of the happiness of these two be- loved objects centering in one another; and hoped that while the fortune of Clara might add to Henry's opportuni- ties of doing good, his afTection and gra- titude would ensure her felicity. Henry Elwyn went through the usual routine of education at a public school^ and afterwards at college, with credit, though not with distinction; his easy good-nature and inoffensiveness of man- ners, made him generally liked; and as no spark of emulation existed in his character, he never excited envy or jea- lousy. With the flattering prospects which were befoie him, his father did not hesi^ taie to supply him with the means of gi utiiyiiig every wish that he formed ; he soon SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. 5 soon perceived that his inclination did not lead him towards his cousin Clara, although she was eminently giftedj both in person and manners^ to rivet the heart which sliould once acknowledge her in- fluence ; but Mr. Elwyn's notions on this score were by no means romantic; and heconcluded, that when Henry had taken his fill of the world and its pleasures, he should see him sit down soberly and con- tentedly with his cousin, a married man. Henry Elwyn had a perfect apprecia- tion of the character of Clara ; and while he saw it so entirely disinterested, io free from selfishness, while he observed her gentleness and humility, at the same time that her superiority in intellect, iii judgment, and discrimination, was pain- fully pressed upon him by the bright light of truth, he was uneasy and awed bS in 6 SUBSTANCE AKD SIIABOvT. \n her presence; a humiliating, a de- grading feeling oppressed him; his own interested and mercenary views, in seek- ing to form a connexion with her, were forcibly presented to his nund, by the suggestions of his yet iinsccired con- science; but he had neither resolution to oppose himself to the wishes of his fa- ther, nor strength of mind to bear the privations to which a limited income would subject him ; neither did he possess the application and stability requisite to embark in a genteel profession, and to secure, by his own meritorious exertions, those indulgencies which he had been accustomed to consider as the necessa- ries of life. Seeing Clara Elwyn as he saw her, thinking so differently from her, yet at the same moment admiring the virtue which SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. / which he dared not imitate (and which he was about to act in direct contradic- tion to), while she was to become the sacrifice, is it wonderful that EIwyn*s ab- sences from home became more fre- quent, as the period fixed upon for his marriage drew nearer? At college he had been acquainted vith Edward Harley, a young man of slender hopes and narrow fortune. The easiness of access, and unassuming man- ner by which Elwyn's character was mark- ed, had given this humbler son of for- tune courage to approach him, for mo- desty and diffidence were his character- istic traits ; and hope blighted ere it had budded in him, by the consciousness of his forlorn situation, and the isolation of his prospects. With the death of his parents he had lost every thing on which 3 4 he 8 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. he had leaned, and in his turn he now saw himself the only stay of his lovely sister. The parents of Harley had moved in an inferior situation ; but having the ad- vantage of a classical free-school in the town where they lived, they naturally wished to obtain an education for their son, which might so essentially benefit him, when they could do it free of ex- pence to themselves; and accordingly he was entered on the foundation, and ob- tained such credit with the master for his assiduous application and general good conduct, that he was one of the youths who prosecuted his studies after- wards at Oxford, on the same endow- ment, by succeeding to a scholarship annexed to it. With a sense of inferiority, and no soothing StTBSTANCE A^'D SHADOW. 9 soothing ideas derived from a conscious- ness of his own merit, Harley felt much gratified when he found that Mr. Elwyn' received him with a good-humour and ease, which was seldom evinced by his fellow-colIegians; he was grateful for that sufferance, which had been so sel- dom his lot to meet with; and his ad- vice and opinions on the subject of EI- wyn's studies (opinions which had been derived from close reading and appli- cation), had more than once been of use to that idle and unstable young man, who had thus gathered the fruits which ano- ther had ripened. The humility and natural modesty of Harley gave Elwyn no fear of his as- suming on this superiority of knowledge; on the contrary, he became more re- spectful in his behaviour, and wore the s 5 air ^ SUB^STANCE ANJ3 SHADOW. air of the obliged, rather than that of l>im who had been conferring obliga- tions. With the usual tenor of Elwyn's dis- position, he would probably have for^ gotten his college friend intirely, if ac- cident had not once more presented him, before him. Having spent some weeks amongst a. set of choice companions at Southamp- ton, he was returning towards Glouces- tershire by a circuitous way (the party having separated), and being almost overcome with lassitude and ennui with his first day's exercise, at the close, of evening he sauntered, rather than rode, through a picturesque and lovely village, situated in a romantic and luxu- riantly-wooded valley; he mechanically vliecked his horse as he saw a person ap- proaching SITBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 11 proaching him, and inquired the name of the place. As he to whom he had addressed himself answered *' Beech Grove/* their eyes met; their voices had previously and reciprocally rang in their ears. Elwyn sprang from the saddle, and with friendly hand met the hand of Edward Harley. He readily yielded to the wish of the village pastor, and any place being at that period preferable to home in his estimation, he consented ta pass a few days in this lovely retirement; The servant was directed by Harley to lead the horses to the parsonage, and El- wyn, taking his friend's arm, they crossed the church-yard by a nearer way. " This is a sweet situation," said Elwyn, " Yes/* replied Harley, stopping, looking round him with enthusiasm, and lifting up his eyes towards heaven, as TL^ if V^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. if in thankful gratitude ; " I am hap- py '•" '' It is a good living, I conclude/* said Elvvyn, *' for this is a rich tract of coun- try. I heartily give you joy, Harley ; how long have you had it? I never heard of your preferment.*' *' The living is a good one, I believe/' answered Harley, with carelessness ; '' I do not know what it may be worth; I leave that to my rector; I am only his evirate, on sixty pounds per annum, and think myself well paid for being made happy." '* Sixty pounds per annum — a curacy —and happiness !" Here was a lesson for Elwyn; but it was an incomprehen- sible one to him. *' How is it possible that you can live, Harley, on such a pal- try pittance?" " You SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 13 " You shall see," answered the young clergyman. "Ah, my clear Mr. Elwyn, I often think how just are the words of a poet whom I always admire (because his simple and natural descriptions can- not fail of touching the heart alive to rural beauties, and rural manners) — * Man wants but little here below. Nor wants that little long." As he repeated the last line, he pro- nounced it in a low and tremulous ca- dence, as if, with a prescient eye^ he had «een that the limits of his own destiny were nearly closed. '* You are an enthusiast, Harley/* said Elwyn. " I would teach you to become one too, if you would look with me ' through nature, up to nature's God,'' answered llarley. 14 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Harley. " Look, Mr Elwyn, can any- thing be more beautiful than this scene ? Behold the setting sun gilding our village spire; observe those finely-spreading beeches, which form a grove beyond it (and which gives the place its name); listen to the little choristers of these sylvan scenes, as they are chaunting their evening orisons; see those 'laughing meads/ so beautifully studded over with sheep; listen to the lowing herd; and look but just beyond the churgh-yard wall, and see the innocent children in- tent on rustic pastimes; even the river,. as it glides through the vale below, con- veys a sound sonorous to my ear, and in low murmurs speaks of happiness." Elwyn had been used to seek happiness in far different scenes, and different ob- jects; and although ]percJiance he never found SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 15 found her, he could almost have laughed outright in the face of his friend ; but he thought it inhuman to break the spell of his enchantment, and walked on, unconscious that ere a few hours were passed, he himself should feel as much entranced. A green door from the church-yard wall opened upon a grassy terrace ; and the whitened parsonage, a small but neat habitation, was in their view, the beams of the setting sun gilding its case- ment windows. " I dwell with Simplicity/' said Ed- ward, as he opened the door on the terrace. Elwyn preceded his friend, the door not being sufficiently large to admit them both at once — " And even Simplicity has her snares/' cried Elwyn, laughing 15 ■ St BSrAKCE AND SHADOW. on perceiving himself suddenly enve- loped by a large net, v;hich had been thrown over his whole person, by some one who had lain in ambush behind a large rose-bush, which grew at the side of the door-way. Edward laughed ; a stilied laugh was also heard from tlie place of conceal- ment. Harley motioning his friend to keep silence, dragged the criminal to light, in the form of a blooming dim- pled Hebe, who, on perceiving her bro- ther at liberty, and a stranger enveloped by the net, sprang from his retaining hold, and with the agile swiftness of a young fawn, bounded over the grassy terrace, and ran into the house. " Who is it that has thus fairly caught me in her toils ? — who is this lovely Ata- lanta, Harky ?" asked Elwyn. — ii If SUBSTANCE AND SlIAt)OW. ^ 7' " li' such thv haunts, Simpiicify, Oh, lovely muitl ! 17/ dwell with thee." *' This dear girl is my siFter," answered Harley ; " and a more unsophisticated creature there exists not upon earth. For her there cannot be a more desirable situation than this; her mind has had little cultivation, for u\\ I was settled myself, I could not have her with me ; and she was brought up amongst those whose 'ignorance was bliss.* She is of an age when impressions are easily made; her temper is affectionate and chearful ; she is the very spring of my existence, for her vivacity enlivens my rather too sombre disposition. She is very grate- ful to me for any instructions which I give her; I mean to cultivate her mind sufficiently to teach her to enjoy the comforts of life, without giving it too much 18 SUBSTAN'CE AND SHADOW, much refinement or fastidiousness. I hope she will turn out a good girl." '' Why seek to alter what is in itself 50 charming ? Can you, by cultivation, add to the pure simplicity of the native snowdrop?*' *' No/* said Harley ; '* the works of God are perfect ; but there is a sully — a stain — a human taint, for which prin> ciple, discipline, and wholesome counsel, are necessary." " You talk like the divine, I perceive,** said Elwyn, with something sarcastic in his manner. " Rather say the Christian, my good sir,** replied Harley. Elwyn was soon ushered into the sit- ting-room of the parsonage, and to the bewitching girl, who in timid and blush- ing confusion apologized for her un- intentional SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 19 intentional rudeness, saying, that " Ed- ward had told her to wait for him in the garden, and that he would come and assist her in covering a cherry-tree with a net ; but that he had lingered so long, that she was quite tired^ and to revenge herself, she had, on hearing ap- proaching steps in the church-yard, hid herself behind the rose-bush, and instan- taneously enveloped the person of hina who first set his foot on the terrace, con- cluding that it must be her brother, and that he had been detained, and was acr companied (as was frequently the case) by the parish clerk." The apology was received with deligh.t ; and the next morning saw Elwyn divest- ed from ennui and lassitude^ and assisting the smiling Ellen in protecting her che- riesL 20 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ries from the dangerous truants of the grove. Ev^ry day, and all day long, Elwyn was at the side of Ellen Harley ; he v/as taken captive by the fascination of her artless bea-^^es ; he felt no sensation of inequality her-e, as in the presence of his cousin Clara; hedidno t now hesitate, ere he made a remark, to know if it was well timed or appropriate. Ellen seemed to approve every thing which he uttered, and to laugh at a jest, even where no jest was intended; her re- marks might be called trifling and un- important, to those who are accustomed to weigh and examine every sentence ere they granted a cold assent; but El- wyn must have been a cyclic and an insen- sate not to have listened, when they came SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. fl came in such sweet tones to his ear, and were accompanied by such bewitching smilesand artless innocence of expression. Harley did not at first observe tiie dan- gerous situation in which he had phiced his friend and sister; and when at length he did discover it, the warm entrea- ties, the fond professions of that friend — the silent pleadings of that sister's looks, triumphed over the rectitude of bis principles^ and he consented to their mutual wish, and joined their hands. Here was a dereliction from the path of duty, which ill assorted with the other- wise undeviating tenor of our village pastor's conduct ; but who shall say, if thus tempted, he might not tLjs liave erred ? For hiwscif, for his own ad- vancement, Harley would have steadily refused every prospect which had beta held f 2 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. held out to him, if it must have been accompanied with the slightest deviation from the line of duty; but to secure a protector t6 his beloved Ellen — to for- ward her happiness — to place it beyond the frail tenure on which his own ex- istence hung (for his delicate constitu- tion seemed daily to predict an early dissolution) — to place her in so eligible a situation, surely he might, without dishonour to himself, consent to the en- treaties of Elwyn, and conceal the mar- riage, till he should have gained his fa- ther's approbation. Ilarley tried to reconcile his own con- duct to his principles; but it was only when he was witnessing the happiness of the fond pair whom " Love had join- ed/* that he could feel intirely free from self-upbraidings. Elwyn SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 23 Elwyn had never hinted to his deceived friend his prior engagement to Miss Elwyn ; and had merely urged, as a rea- son for a clandestine marriage, his own impetuous wishes, and the cruel and unnecessarij suspense in which he should wear away the hours of absence, till he should have settled the formal prelimi- naries with his father, for the ceremoni- ous celebration of that event on which his happiness depended, and of which, when it should have taken place, he was assured of obtaining the consent of his indulgent parent. Passion gave Elwyn rhetoric and animation unknown to him before; and Harley, as we have seen^ was softened to his wishes. It was at Elwyn's first return home from Beech Grove, that Harley was seiz- ed S4 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ed with an illness that proved fatal to him; a few days terminated his exist- ence; and the simple Ellen was not alive to his daniier in time to send for her husband, oiherwise it is probable that in witnessing the last moments of Har- ley, his mind might have been happily impressed, and he might have pursued a different course to that which he un- fortunately took. Elwyn's return home had been trium- phantly hailed by his father; his affairs had lately becojiic more and more em- barrassed ; and his son's numerous calls upon his purse had not a little contri- buted to bring them into their present awkward state; he pressed Henry to a speedy marriage with his cousin; Elwyn hcoitated ; but irresolutely forbore to ac- quaint SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. ?5 quaint his father with the insuperable obstacle which he had himself created to the union. While in a state of doubt as to what conduct to pursue, fearing to incur his father's everlasting displeasure — fearing to wound his cousin's peace of mind, but, most of all, fearing to relinquish those pleasures and those luxuries on which he had hitherto revelled, even to, satiety, he received a letter from his El- len ; it implored him to come to her immediately; it was couched in terms of distress and affliction, which Elwyn, who knew the tenderness of her brother's af-* fection, could well reconcile to this her sudden loss of him. He lost no time ni obeying the summons; and in re^ moving this artless and simple girl from the retirement of Beech Grove, t > an VOL. II, C asvlum 2S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. asylum which he provided for her, in a village near the metropolis, here shef assumed the name of Belford, at his re- quest ; and here, a very few months af- terwards, he succeeded in making her believe that the ceremony of their mar- riage had not been legally solemnized between them, and that she was not his wife ; and that though this had proceed- ed from an oversight in her brother, yet that his character would severely suffer in the eyes of the world, were it ever brought to light; and, finally, that finding his father inflexible to all his intreaties, and resolutely bent on cast- ing him off without a shilling, should he act in opposition to his will, in a mo- ment of desperation he had united him- self to a lady of his selection, and had thus rendered himself miserable for ever. Poor SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 27 Poor Ellen had notiiing to oppose to this intelligence, but sighs and tears; s3ie had lost him who would have assisted her with his counsel, and strengthened her weak and ductile mind by his advice. Her poor bark was now put on ocean's tide, without rudder or pilot. She credulously, fondlij believed Elwyn's vows of eternal love, and fancied, be- cause he told her so, that he had been more unfortunate than faulty. He cal- led all the powers above to witness to his solemn asseverations of making her his wife, whenever it should please death to take his present lady ; he forgot not to hint at the apparent delicacy of her constitution; and he gave ample proofs of the comforts which her fortune would enable him to bestow on his Ellen. That Ellen still listened to the *'vo*ce c 2 of ^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. of the charmer," whom she had first known in the Beech Woods of Hamp- shire ,* and while she yielded up her child to his care, she had not resolution to order the father to discontinue his visits to herself, but through a term of twenty years, received him as her guest, at his occasional absences from Elwyn Hall ; and, during that period, received her maintenance at his hands, and still lived on the idea of taking Mrs, Elwyn*s sta- tion at a future day, and becoming the mistress of Elwyn Hall. CHAP, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, 29 CHAP. II. No more at dawning mom I rise, And SUD iriyself in Clara's eyes. Scott's Lady of the LaK£. Harley's description of his sister had been perfectly just; her mind was like a sheet of blank paper. When Elwyn made his appearance at Beech Grove, Harley, but newly settled in his parsonage, had scarcely began the labour of cultivation ; Elwyn never thought of it; his love for Ellen (if we may call it by that name) had nothing intellectual in its nature ; and, as we have seen in his behaviour towards the hapless Clara, in the pursuits of a refined and c3 discriminating 30 SUBSTAlsTE AND SHADOW. discriminating mind, there was nothing congenial to hi? taste. If, after an ab- sence of some months, Ellen received him with her wonted smiles and caresses, he was well pleased; and even when the dimpled season of blooming youth was past, and the tint of hirest, freshest beau- ty had departed from the cheek of Ellen, he yet retained his first preference, and listened to her prattle, with none of that imeasincss and tedium which attended a tcte-d'tcte conversation with Mrs. Elwyn. A young female, living in seclusk)n> in a village near the metropolis, under the sanction of a married name, yet see- ing her nominal husband only at stated periods, and then under mysterious cir- cumstances (as during his visits to Fel- tham he was never accompanied by a servant). SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. .31 servant), could not fail of drawing forth some remarks amongst the neighbours; nobody thought o[ visiting Mrs. Belford; indeed she was generally beheld as a wo- man of more than suspicious character. Le^t to herself, with no resources, no taste for study, no wish for improve- ment, and entirely confined to the so- ciety of her two maid-servants, is it won- derful if the understanding of Ellen, never very brilliant, daily became more limited and more " mediocre ;" her con- versation imperceptibly assumed the style of common-place and hacknied sen* tences, an hundred times reiterated in the course of the twenty-four hours, and in questions which the gossiping tribe of female domestics are in general well in- clined to answer. The affairs of the whole village were canvassed by Mrs. c 4 Belford ^2 SUBSTANCTE AKD SHADOW. "Belford and her two damsels; the chand* ler's-shop was the mart of intelligence ;, and no sooner was it there procured, than it was conveyed by these prompt messengers to their mistress^ who sat in her parlour, from morning till night, catting out patchwork, and listening to the news of Sally and Betty. That beauty which at fifteen had been dazzling, and which had owed much of its attraction to sparkling youth, to rud- dy health, and to a swan-like skin, had, during the lapse of twenty years, lost almost every trace of what had most dis- tinguished it ; the colour on her cheek bad gradually faded ; her skin had as- sumed a deadened hue of sickliness; and even her actions and movements, no longer seen as those of a lively romp of fifteen on the grassy terrace of Beech Grove, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. S3' Grove, but cooped up in a little parlour, had at once an air ungraceful and un- couth. There was no mischief, no malice, in the composition of Ellen ; she asked for intelh'gence merely to say some- thing, and to have answers ; her mind was as devoid of vicious as virtuous pro- pensities ; she might really be said to vegetate rather than to live, except when Mr. Elwyn appeared at Feltham ; for then she became unusually animated, though from bein*; unused to see him, and during his absence shut out from the rest of the world, her manners insensi- bly wore an air of constrained respect while she conversed with him ; and though still very fond of him, and al- ways hoping that the time would ar- rive when she should be mistress of Elwyit e 5 Hall, 34 • SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Hall, and in her '' own rightful place/' as she called it, yet she not unfrequentlr found k a little relief to retire awhile from Mr. Elwyn ; and while he was taking his afternoon's nap, assembling Sally and Betty, she would exhibit to their admiring eyes the " loxelij 'presenW* Jie had brought her. The informality of her marriage, Ellen had always considered as her mis- fortune rather than her fault ; it had ne- ver occurred to her, that on making the discovery, it was her immediate duty to break off all further intercourse with Elwyn, and to consider him in future only as the husband of another. She never thought of Mrs. Elwyn but as an interloper between herself and happi- ness; she never thought of Elwyn's fa- ther but as a cruel tyrant, who had forced his SUBSTANCE AND SHADOVT. 35 his son into a marriage which he ab- horred ; in fact, she thought only as Elwyn would have her, and all his repre- sentations she literally believed; but never, even in those moments when the artless endearments of Ellen had called forth all the fervour of Elwyn's love, never had he breathed a syllable which could be construed into disrespect for Clara. There was in her goodness, her virtues, and her understanding, some- thing so superior, and so imposing, that he scrupulously veiled her from the ob- servation and the discussion of the sim- ple Ellen, with much of that sacred cau- tion with which a superstitious devotee would shroud the relics of a favourite saint from each unholy touch. It is more than probable, that had no impediments arisen to Elwyn's con- c-G nexion 5(J SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. nexion with Ellen (and had he intro- duced her as his wife, with the appro- bation and sanction of his father), that he would long since have repented of his youthful choice, and have turned ffom her with apathy, if not disgust; but being obliged to visit her clandes- tinely, always received with smiles, and parted from with tears, and charges of a quick return, there was an attraction in the intercourse which gave some inte- rest, the interest oi variety at least, to his otherwise inactive mind. Of late years, when the beauty of Ellen had visibly faded, and when the health of Mrs. Elwyn had daily declined, without being entirely undermined ; when he had seen her nobly, cheerfully struggling with sufferings, both bodily and mental, under which most women would. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 37* would immediately have sank; when he had seen her eve, thouoh divested of its primeval lustre, still faintly beaming with a softened expression as it turned towards him, he had more frequently quitted home to fly from his own thoughts, and from the reproaches of conscience, than for the pleasure of seeing his once-adored Ellen ; with her, his feel- ings were blunted and obtuse ; he re- signed himself to a vacuity of mind, and a lethargy of intellect : but this was almost impossible in the presence of the injured Clara; the momentary, .yet in- artificial display of her good sense, her patience, and, most of all,' her piety; the discrimination which enabled her at the first survey to distinguish between the sophistry of false sentiment, and sterling and immutable truth ; her rec- titude 3S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW* titiide of conduct, her innate humility^, her strict manner of judging her own conduct, and the lenity which §he ob- served with regard to that of others^ all wounded him to the quick; and while he acknowledged the majesty of Virtue, he trembled before her shrine, and fled from her all-imposing power. Never had a man ventured greater lengths to secure happiness than had Elwyn; never had any man wandered further from the mark. Those pleasures, and those luxuries, for which he had bar- tered so much, palled, without gratifying his senses. That rank in life which he had attained by his marriage with his cousin, he could not enjoy^ for an ac- cusing angel, in the form of Clara, was always pointing out his aggravated crime; and even in the retreat of Ellen, while lavishly SUBSTANCE AND SHADO"^. 39 lavishly heaping upon her those gew- gaws which were so flatteringly received, he often turned his own condemner, and asked himself by what right, either of honesty or honour, he thus disposed of the fortune of Clara? A prospect of relief presented itself to Elwyn in the form of his son ; his easy and softened nature longed to have him near him ; we have seen how he suc- ceeded in gratifying this wish, and the . engrossing fondness with which he re- garded him. The love which he once felt for the mother, seemed now trans- ferred to her child ; and Elwyn*s visits to Ellen had, from thenceforth, been passed in pourtraying the engaging charms, and the promising talents, of this incom- parable boy, Ellen's 40 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Ellen's feelings were not very quick, or her maternal anxieties very acute, but her vanity was flattered at hearing she had such an all-accomplished son^ and she listened to Elwyn's accounts of ''Mr. Henry," as she always respectfully term- ed him, with an interest which she had never taken in any one subject, save in the praises of her own beauty, which had stolen on her youthful imagination in the luxuriant groves of Hampshire. The monotony of her life — the mecha- nical movement of her fingers, in cutting triangles, squares, and octagons for patch-work, the daily retailers of the village goJ^sip, from the ntail shop, were now likely to fade, 'Mike the baseless fa- bric of a vision, and leave not a wreck ( though perchance many a shred) behind/' Mrs, StrSSTA^'CE AND SHADOW. 41 Mrs. Elwyn was dead. Ellen received the intelligence with joy ; she was told to expect a visit from her husband, CIIAIV 45 sufstance ani> shai>ow. JKiK CHAP. III. Tixo glr.ss reversed, by magic power of sptecB, A wrinkled idiot i.ow the fair is seen. Mjss Aikek. Ar^vAYS enthusiastic, always impelled hj his feelings, impatient of controiil, un- used to disappointment, apt to be taken by outward appearances, and tremblingly alive to the censures and the plaudits of the world, with more impetuosity in his disposition than augured well either for his happiness or his principles, we may conceive the perturbation of Henry El- wvn as he drew near the habitation of his mother. A thousand interesting and affecting traits of their first interview had SUISTANCE AKD SHADOW. AS had been flitting before his heated ima* gination; he had supported this fainting, this already adored parent, as, overcome by emotion, she had vainly endeavoured to strain her child to her maternal bosom ; he had knelt at her htt, and been raised to her arms, while the warm tears of affection had watered his face ; he had heard the soft and mellifluous tones in which she had bestowed her blessing. Mr. Elwyn, on the contrary, had re- lapsed into his usual solitary and abstract- ed mood, which seemed to proceed ra- ther from a suspension of mental action, than from intense rumination ; but to the eager — the earnest— the oft-repeat- ed inquiries of his companion, he at length answered, " That the habitation which contained her who was hencefor- ward to be known as Mrs. Elwyn was in sight;" 44 SUBSTA^XE AKD SIIADO\r. sight;*' and they were soon driven i?p to the door. The heart of Henry panted i his whole frame was agitated,^ as he assisted his fa- ther in descending from the carriage. Mr. Elwyh preceded him into the house, where, at the | arlour door, he was met by — was it p )Ssib]e?-^--cou]d this be his mother? — could this be the lovely, the bewitching Ellen Harley ? Dressed in a showy and Vulgar-printed linen, with more of deep rose-coloured rib- bon on her cap than would have been thought sufficient by the bar-maid of a country inn, she stood before her asto- nished — her wonder-struck son; and as she received the kiss of Mr. Elwyn, with coolness, but with a sort of respectful acquiescence, she turned towards her son, who was utterly motionless; all his high- wrought SUBS-PASTCE AND SHADOW. 45 wroiioht feelincrs were flown at the first glance ; it seemed as if the revulsion had destroyed all animation — all sensa- tion ; he was fixed as a statue. " Ellen, do you not speak to our son ?" asked Mr. Elwyn. " Oh ! certainly, sir,'* said Mrs. El- wyn, taking his hand. ''How do you do, sir ? lam very glad to see you — how dye do, Mr. Henry ? — I hope I see you well, sir ? — Dear me! only but to think what a fine stout young gentleman he has grown I — very so indeed — very much so!" Henry bent his head on the hand of his mother ; he touched, but did not press it with his lips; but the touch seemed to recall him to some sense of his situation. He remembered that she was his mother; but he turned to the window 46 SUBSTANCE AND SIlX^OW. window to conceal the tear which trick- kd down his manly cheek, while Mn. Eiwyn addressed to her husband reiterated questions of " And when did you leave home, sir?" — ''You had pleasant wea- ther — very much so" — *' The roads are very good now, I suppose ?" — " Plea- sant travelling, I dare say"—*' I thought you would be here to dinner — I was say- ing so this morning to Betty." What an utter dispersion of all the romance, the sentiment, and the enthu- siasm of Henry, had this short specimen of his mother's conversation occasioned ! lie could not bear the excess of disap- pointment, the cruel mortification ^vhich he had experienced. On pretence of looking at the garden, he stole out of the room; but he there gave way to the agony of his mind. — '^ And had the hap- piness SOBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 4T p*m«ss of Clara Elwyn, that superior, that almost perfect creature, been sacri* ficed for such a coarse, such an under- bred woman as this? Was this indeed the parent for whom he had bespoken the love and the respect, the attention and the deference of Mary Ellis — Ma- ry E!iis, who had been accustomed to the refined conversation, the elegant manners, to the fervid affection of her beloved protectress, who had caught from her bright example all that was ex- cellent and praiseworthy^ and whose quick discrimination would enable her instantaneously to perceive, that there existed neither feeling, sentiment, or refinement, in the person v.ho was to supply her place? — And the wcrid," cried he, *' what will the vcorld say of Harri/ Belford's mother } will they not, from 4S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. from her appearance — from her lan- guage, deduce all that is lowering to my pride and my feelings ? — Shall I not be daily wounded through her ? — Shall I not be ashamed of her whom I ought to honour and to revere ? Oh ! Mr. Eiwyn, into what a cruel predicament has your blind, your infatuated passion placed your offspring in ! Rather would he have remained for ever in ignorance of his birth, than be thus oppressed by the weight of degrading feelings ! — A father, still keeping himself concealed — I shall only be pointed at as the illegitimate child of lier who has usurped the place of Mrs. Elwyn. The proud — the court- ed — the hitherto lia^ppy Harry Bel ford, will now be doomed to hear the voice of ridicule and sarcasm levelled at his mo- ther ! — He will — no! — he idll not T cried SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. i^ cried he, answerin"^ himself, with that furious expression of quickly rousin^^ spirit, which he was not in the habit of controuling, or submitting to the dic- tates of reason, *' No! The being who dares to cast an insinuation on mjj mo- ther, shall find a way to the heart of her son with his sword, or shall atone for the insult with his own life-blood !" This heroic and magnanimous resolve, seemed, in some measure, to have ap- peased the boiling fervour of his soul, and he walked himself into a more tem- perate frame of mind, and was lowered to something more like animal lieat, ere he returned to his father and mother. " If such thy hauuts, Simplicity, Oh, lovely maid ! I'll live w'nh thee." vSuch had been the words wh.ich Nfr. VOL. II. D Elwvn 50 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Elwyn had used tvvo-and-twenty years ago, on first seeing Ellen Harley ; had he made use of them at this period, to the person ^vho sat on the opposite side of the fire, they would have been laughed at as a burlesque. Associating only with minds of the lowest order for such a length of time, can it be thought unna- tural that the simple taste of Ellen should have been perverted and tortured? ' — that the native graces which were hers in extreme youth, should have fled with mature years, and that awkvi^ard and for- ced attempts at gentility and politeness should have usurped their place ? Mr. Elwyn had seen the gradual change without noticing it; he still beheld the traces of that beauty which had once charmed him; and in proportion as Ellen's loveliness and attractive simpli- city SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 51 city had vanished^ so had his acuteness of perception been blunted^ and his understanding and discernment been clouded. In recounting his own history to his son, the emotions which were raised in his mind had carried him back to that period when he had felt with ardour, and admired with enthusiasm ; and he had, unfortunately, described things that had been in such glowing colours, that Henry Elwyn had foolishly and fondly imagined they still were. Called to be a witness of Mr. Elwyn 's second union with his mother, itrequired all Henry's resolution to support him through the scene ; he felt that this union would place him in a very questionable light to the world; but the heart-piercing entreaty of his father, as he had knelt at D 2 his 52 SUBSTA^CE AND SHADOW. his feet at Elwyn Hall, and had besought him to spare his character from infamy while he lived, was not forgotten — and he witnessed the ceremony. Mrs. Elwyn appeared wholly unem- barrassed, and to have no unpleasant re- trospections with respect to the former ceremony; she had no tremoiirs, or fears, although she was still taught to be- lieve that her son had no legal claim to the fortune of his father; but this was such an old matter, that it was no longer a subject to employ her mind. — ^' Mr. Henry was a very fine sensible young man, very much so indeed — and a great favourite with Mr. Elwyn — a very great favourite indeed — She was now going to be taken home — and to be the mistress of Elwyn Hall' — and she must conduct herself like a prudent lady — and be very affable SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 55 affable — and very genteel — and sj^eak well of every body — and show the world that she had not one bit of pride.** Henry could not determine on accom- panying his father and mother back to the Hall, he therefore urged a wish of staying to partake a few of the pleasures of the metropolis; and Mr. Elwyn, always indulgent, consented, while his sagacious lady observed, " That it was very natural,' very much so indeed, for so young and line a gentleman as Mr. Henry, to wish to show himself a little, and to take a little recreation in the season of youth ; but," she added, " that she should ex- pect him again soon, for she should greatly feel his loss — very so !" Mary Ellis meanwhile had been sedu- lously endeavouring to prepare herself for the reception of the new mistress of D 3 Elwvn 54 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Ehvyn Hall ; she was assured that she could never behold a second Mrs Elwyn, who could, in her estimation, equal the first; she could not reconcile the idea of strict propriety and so hasty a mar- riage ; she allowed a great deal for the high tone of Henry's feelings, at the ideaof being introduced to this parent; and much of his glowing colouring she attributed to the enthusiastic heat of his imagination ; Mary expected, therefore, neither a perfect, nor an angelic, but a human being. CHAP. SyfiSTANCE AND SHADOW. CHAP. IV. Some prudes of rigid kind forbore to call On the kind females' favourites at the Hali. CPwABBE. Although Mary Ellis would have tried to check every rebellious feeling on the approach of Mrs. Elwyn, in conform- ance with her well-grounded principles of duty and religion, yet another mo- tive was in co-operation with these, a motive which was more powerful than she herself suspected. The being in the whole world who now j^rofcssed to feel for her any por- tion of regard or affection, was Henry ; it was Jiis mother whom she was to re- D 4 ceive. 56 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, ceive, and she felt something gratifying and soothing to her self-love, in the idea , of receiving her in a way which he would approve and applaud. How then was she mortified and humbled when she saw Mr. and Mrs. Elwyn return, but unaccompanied by Henry ! how greatly did she feel the want of hisencouraging» his approving eye, as she first approach- ed Mrs. Elwyn ! how was she astonished at the unpolished, yet un confused man- ner of that lady ! how was she wounded by the cold abstraction which still marked the deportment of Mr. Elwyn, who nei- ther assisting the awkward curiosity of his wife, or the trembling diffidence of Mary, seemed as perfectly shrouded in his own reflections, or in vacant listless- ness, as if he had already been shut up, and reclining in the great chair in his library I StTESTANCE AND SHADOW. 57 library! — "Hud not Henry sent a letter? — a word? had he not breathed a hint to account for his absence ? — had he not thought it possible that she might stand in need of support — of encouragement?"' These v/ere some of the heart-aching inquiries which passed in quick succes- s;on before Mary ; but she had no time for reflection. The new mistress of the Hall, eager to view her new possei^sions, proud of her " brief authority/* and anxioijs t^ gratify a silly curiosity, almost inun- dated her with questions, and almost deprived her of breath ; for running from room to room, she was touching and admiring every thing she saw, ask- ing the cost of each article, and the names and uses of many, declaring, "It D 3 was 58 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. was all very pretty, beautiful, and ele- gant, very so indeed.'* Her manner, so totally different to what Mary had been accustomed, her person, her appearance, her behaviour, al! so entirely the reverse of her expec-" tations, she could scarcely restrain her feelings; she felt worried, teazed, almosi "irritated, by the constant volubility which assailed her, and she longed to creep into some quiet corner, where she might relieve her full heart by a plentiful shower of tears; but Mrs. Elvvyn held her by the arm, and while she went on with *' pray. Miss, what is this?" and '' dear Miss, do tell me what is that ?'* and " was this the last Mrs. Elwyn's do- ing ?" and " is that the te^ Mrs. Elwyn's work?*' a negative, an affirmative, or an SUESTANXE AND SHADOW. 59 an answer of " I do not know/^ fell in rapid succession from her lips. The drawing-roonri;, hung with por- traits of the Elwyn family, afforded a Avide field for declamation ; the names of each venerable personage, long since numbered with the dead, were called over. A predecessor of the family, who had been eminent in the law, and had risen to the dignity of a judge, was an object of marked respect. '' I shall know the judge again by his viig; you see/* said the wise lady ; " very line — very fine indeed ! — how much it must have cost him, when he had it new! And the diviue, Miss Mary, I shall re- member by his band and gown ; so there you see, I have found out two of the family already — there's the judge, you know, and the doctor." Ti Q Mary 60 SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. Mary scarcely attended, for her heart %vas palpitating; she saw Mrs. Elwyn tripping on to the portrait of her be- loved, her lamented protectress — a por- trait v^ich she had been in the habit of contemplating daily for the last month;, \vhich she had never viewed without emo- tion. The likeness was striking ; tliC se- rious yet placid expression of Clara's features, had been preserved by the hap- py pencil of Romney ; and the delicacy of that countenance, which had been the index of a truly delicate and ref.iied mind, had almost sanctified the touch of the painter, and had spread over it an air of something more than mortal — at least so Mary thought, and so she de- lighted to behold it. It had been taken in the days of youth 3nd hilarity, when a gay vista of delight had SUBSTANCE AND SHADO\T. 61 had apparently opened to the view of Clara ; it had been take^ previous io her marriage with her cousin ; but the pensive prescient expression of her soft blue eye, as the lifted lid was turned towards heaven, seemed, even then, to intimate that she must look be) ond this^ nether world for happiness. '' x\nd who is this here ladv? — who is she ? — more modern, I perceive, by the frame. — Who is this lady. Miss ?'* asked Mrs. Elwyn. *' This is the portrait of Mrs. Elwyn, Hiadam.'* '' Of the last Mrs. Elwyn ?" ** Yes, ma'am, it is." ^ , " Dear me ! — dear me ! only to think — I am quite >surprised. Why I had taken it into my head that she was a great beauty. Law bless me ! this pic- ture 62 ^RSTANCE AND SHADO^r. ture could never have been at all like her, if she was. Was it thought a like- ness. Miss What-do-You-call-em ?" " Oh it is a great — a striking likeness T' answered Mary. ^ " Well^ for my part, if ever I was more surprised in all my born days — Law, bless' me ! how formal she looks ! and so thin • — and so spare — and then no fine colour in the cheeks, and the eyes no round- ness in them — Well, commend me to such a beauty as that; for my part, / see no beauty there— do you, Miss?"^ *' Yes, ma'am, I see a great deal," said Mary, assh^ moved mechanically on ta the next picture. ''And so that was the last Mrs. Elwyn ?" said the lady ; '' so that was the beautij I have heard so much of?" muttering in an under tone to herself, and casting a lingering SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 03 lingering look at the picture, as she fol- lowed Mary to the next. Bitter were the feelings which stnjg- led in the affectionate bosom of poor Mary, at such an indelicate survey of the object of her admiration; her heart would have been too full to have named the next portrait, but Mrs. Eiwyn saved her the trouble. '' Ah ! there he is in- deed ! — there he is to the very life ! — there's Mr. Elwyn to a T ! — Ah* he wore that very coloured coat when he first saw me in Hampshire ! and that was the way he dressed his hair too ! — See Miss, how nice he looks — how much of a gentle- man ! — oh, very so indeed ! that picture should have been mine by right. Well, there is no crying over spilt milk ; better late than never. To be sure what a hand- some man he was in those days ! and Mr. Henry, 6i SUBSTANCE AND SIIADOV>% Henry, my son, Miss, he is a very fine young man, don't you think so ? but he does not come up to his — to Mr. EJwyn^, do you think he does. Miss?" " Not knowing Mr. Elwyn at the pe- riod you speak of, madam, I cannot be a Judge,'* answered Mary, who seeing that Mrs. Elwyn mean* to be civil, and that her coarse remarks were entirely the re- sult of ignorance, earnestly endeavoured to acquire resolution, and to behave with composure. " No, that is very true, as you observe^ you can't be a judge, Mks — v/bat is it? I always forget your name; but I be- lieve you are never called Elwyn/' " No, ma'am, my name is E'iiis." ** Ah, so it is — I remember now, Mr. Elwvn told me all aboi.t it — and Mr. Henry too ; Mr. Henry spoke very hand- some SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. G5 some of you, very so indeed; and I pro- mised to be very kind to you, and Idare say we shall be very good friends." " I hope so, ttia*am.*' "Do you understand patchwork, Miss?" *' I do not know that I do, ma'am." *' Oh you will very soon learn, I dare say, and you shall help me ; I make no doubt but when I come to tumble over Mrs. Elwyn's old hoards, I shall find a good many odd bits of one sort or z^no- ther; and we will set to, and I dare say between us, shall make some very pretty quilts, for I waste nothing; the least bit that is can be joined to another, you know; and if I did not bring a fortune to Mr. Elwyn," and she gave a sneering toss of the head towards Mrs. Elwyn's unconsciouii 66 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. imconscious resemblance, " 1 will save one/* The meek figure on the canvas seem- ed to preach patience and piety to her beloved chi'd, as she threw an almost imploring look towards it; while Mrs. Elwyn, seiz no 1 er by the arm, cried, " Com^ Miss, what shall we see next ? 'tis all very well worth seeing. Tin sure, and very grand, and vei-y pretty.'* It has been remarked, and that not un- frequently, that the minor trials of life, those every-day occurrences which are constantly operating on ^le temper, and harrassing the mind, arp more diificLilr to surmount, ana contribute, in a r^-cater degree, to the perfections of t\\e human charrscler, than those ^itr'king events, which, by calling forth a sudden display of SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 6T of resolution^ are frequently a mere flash in the pan (if we may be allowed the expression), and attended with no beneficial result. It had been the zealous labour of the deceased Mrs. Elwyn to lay the ground- work of Mary's character on a stable foundation ; this foundation enabled her to bear with patience her present trials; the habit of retrospeciion had been culti- vated for a beneficial purpose; when she met with any thing unpleasant, she re- collected how much more unpleasant had been the situation from which her benefactress had rescued her; when her delicacy was wounded, and her sensibi- lity hurt by the ignorance and the coarse- ness of Mrs. Elwyn, she recalled the long period of happiness which she had enjoyed underthe indulgent ej^'e, and the sensitive 68 SUBSTANCE ANJD SHADOW. sensitive kindness of her beloved pro- tectress; when she was wearied with the silly remarks, and weak garrulity of her present companion, she recollected with ^ ratitude the n any hours of refined enjoyment which she had spent in the improving converse of her Inst; and thus by lookin-^ backwards gratefully to past days of unmerited happiness, and forwards with humble hope to a never- ending period of felicity, and to a re- union with her departed friend, *Mn the realms of light and love/* she tried, by i^etrospection and anticipation, ta lose the painful sense of the oresent. Full of her own importance, Mrs. Elwyn always appeared in a complete busrie, and was never weary of tiakijig a/raiigr-inents and altei aliens in the do- mestic economy at the Ka-j^ which may bs SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 69 be easily guessed to have turned out alte- rations rather than improvements; for the well- digested ])]:ins of Clara, and the soundness of her judgment, the steadi- ness with which she had issued her or- ders, the benefits which had been derived from their adoption, had been seen through a long term of years, during ^vhich period the Elwyu fortune had flourished under her management — the domestics liad smiled as they had grown old in her service, and the whole neigh- bourhood had felt the effects of her dis- criminating bounty. The present lady's mind was as con- tracted as her understanding ; she was as ignorant of the necessary expences of a genteel establishment, as she was of the necessary forms of genteel life ; by attempting to be prudent, as she called it, she 70 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, she became parsimonious^ in matters where the saving or the expenditure was of little consequence; and by a 'partial investigation, things of greater mo- ment were in daufier of beins: lavished without a thouo;ht. She delighted in ratth'ng her keys, and calling herself her own Jiousekeeper ; while the faithful do- mestic who had retained that station under the auspices of the judicious Clara, and who was well qualified, both by practice and principle, to perform the office, was still retained in the family, in a sort of nondescript situation, and re- ceived the wages of a housekeeper, for the most part to sew together patches of nondescript shapes, for nondescript purposes; while the self-installed house- keeper was always searching in her pocket for the keys which she had lost, seeding SUBSTA^'CE AND SHADOW. 7 1 sending for the smiths to repair the locks which she had hampered^ and turning the whole house into confusion, by ne- glecting to put things in their original places, or purposely seeking out new ones, in order to hide them from the domestics; and as her memory, amidst this multiplicity of business, was not very tenacious, there w^as often a hue and cry for some indispensible article of the table, which the lady of the man- sion had put out of sight; fancying that every thing she did was very wise, she was never weary of recapitulating her exertions ; and the repast was generally enlivened by a petty detail of the most minute occurrences of the morning. Mr. Elwyn scarcely ever appeared to listen, so it was the part of the patient Mary to seem an attentive hearer. Mrs. 72 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Mrs. Elvvyn appeared at the parish church of Norton in all due form as a bride. Three or four of the villagers formed a squad to pay their respects; and " she was so affable, so obliging, and so civil," thnt they were from that moment on an Intimate footing at the Hall, Mrs. Elwyn pronounced them all in one breath to be '' very genteel, and very sensible, and very polite," because they c^me finely dressed, talked of the v/eather, admired the Hall, and smiled assent, as soon as she had opened her lips. The families who had been accustom- ed to keep up a friendly intercourse with Clara, and who were really well-bred and well-informed, still kept aloof, not liking the '' questionable shape'' in which this lady so soon appeared at the Hall, and not relishing the idea of hav- ing SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. f 3 ing their lamented neighbour so soon superseded; but in the gossip of the attorney's wife, in the flattery of an apo^ thecary's widow, who had a grown-up daughter to dispose of, and in the assist- ance of a maiden gentlewoman in making patches, Mrs. Elwyn had nothing more to desire. She said, that '' really the village of Norton afforded most agree- able society, very so indeed — very geur teel ladies all ; and hovo pleasant that Miss Lawson should be so extremely fond of patchwork !" These under-bred females, who would have feared to approach the eat of the dignified Clara with a tale of scandal, with broad compliments, or with offers of assisting her in her refined pursuits and occupations, could easily fathom the depth of the present lady's understand- VOL. II. B ing; 74 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ing ; and while neither abashed by ber superior elegance, or awed by her supe- rior virtue^ they were loud in their plau- dits and admiration, and extolled her as " a being without a grain of pride or consequence/' and talked of " now feel- ing themselves at case at the Hall/' which they *' must say, never could have been the case in the last lady's time/* So pleasant do we find it to censure those whose characters are beyond our imita- tiowc~so pleasant is it to applaud those who rise only to our own level — in fact^ so grateful is it to extol ourselves. Althmigh Mrs. Elwyn had never made a direct communication to Mary of her early history and hei' former marriage, yet her frequent allusions to i( were so plain, and her hints were so broad, that v.ithin a very few days after her arrival at SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. 75 at the Hal!, she had nothing to learn on the subject ; and added to her other un- pleasant feelings, she had the bitter re- gret of knowing, that while she had been one of the 7nost amiable, her late friend had also been one of the most injured of women. Her natural diffidence and restraint in the presence of Mr. Elwyn, "was encreased into something like aver- sion from this knowledge, and it required all her fortitude, it exercised all her patience, to be commonly cheerful be- fore him. — ''Henry Elwyn neither came or wrote ; lie was partaking in all the pleasures of the gay world, mixing, with . careless avidity, in all its amusements, iinmindful of the companion of his early days, alike indilTerent to her weal or woe." Such were sometimes the bitter rumi- E 2 nations 76 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. nations of Mary Ellis ; at others, her dis- interested spirit rejoiced that he was spared from the many mortifications which would have assailed his proud heart, in witnessing the vulgarity and coarseness of his mother. In fact, as we have before observed, Henry had fled away from the contem- plation ; he could not bear the idea of beholding the contrast which she would form to the late Mrs. Elwyn; he thought with commiseration of Mary Ellis, and knew the trials which she must necessa- rily encounter ; but he left her to brave them alone ; and in the mad pursuit of pleasure, he sought to bury the remem- brance of the first mortification which bad ever assailed him; but it returned when the fevered pulse prevented his tranquil slumber ; it pursued him when he SCBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 77 he came fatigued and enervated from the midnight party ; he then felt that even pleasure had its alloy — that dissipa- tion had its intervals of ennui ; and in those moments the image of the gentle, the soul-consoling Mary, like a benig- nant angel, flitted before his imagina- tion, and he would ask himself whether the mad tumult of revelry, and all its meretricious allurements, could, by a rational creature, be one moment pre- ferred to the sober and placid conversa- tion of that much-esteemed girl ? It was one day that his head aching from the noise and nonsense of the fore- going mghi'spleasurey his heart reproach- ing for '' time mispent, and talents mis- applied ;'* his exhausted purse reminding him that he could not stay much longer in tiie metropolis, without making ano- E a thep 78 SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. ther application to Mr. Elwyn to recriTit it; and his conscience telling him, that though such an application would be at- tended to, yet that his duty required hrs return to the Hall, when he knew that his father had long expected him there — it was on Ms day that he determined to quit town in the succeeding morning; and full of the magnanimous resolve, he mentioned it to a friend who came to call on him at that moment. *' Ahj I see how it is/' said Mr. Fitz- allan, who had a great turn for raillery, and who was loth to lose a companion whom he found so pleasant, " you are going to rusticate — the gallant gay Lo- thario, the dashing Harry Elwyn is now to disappear; he is going to the pastoral haunts, to the sylvan scenes of Elwyn ; the treasured object of his affection there ' wastes SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 79 ' wastes her sweetness in the desart air ;' he sees the charming form of Mary Ellis; he falls in with the designs of th.e first Mrs, Elwyn ; he is taken captive by her sweet simplicity — her sparkling beau- ty; she becomes the forhmate foundling; he becomes a benedict — a married man ; and then — why then the curtain drops — the scene closes — Farewell, Harry/' said Fitzallan, holding out his hand, in a tone half mournful, half bantering. Henry reddened ; Fitzallan had laid an emphasis on the words ''fortunate foundling;" his heart, his rebellious heart, revolted from the idea of forming such a connexion, for was he not the son, the legitimate son of his patron ? — was he- not the li?ieal heir of the Elwyns? All the beauty, all the virtues of Mary Ellis, were forgotten in this thought, and h« E 4 proudly^ 80 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, proudly, warmly averred that such zn idea had never entered his imagination. Fitzallan smiled at his warmth; the two friends dined together ; and heated with wine^ and buoyant in spirits, they went to the opera. It was the last even- ing of Henry Ehvyn's stay in town ; he thought the house had never looked sa splendid ; the dancers had never before pleased hini so much ; the first song was enchanting; the ballet was ecstatic. In a transport of delight, he turned his head to addresS'Fitzallan, when he saw two la- dies near him, and his eye rested on the bewitching countenance of Lauretta Montgomery. The chasm which had elapsed since he had last seen her was forgotten ; instan- taneously he was transported back to the enchanted supper-table at Cheltenham ; he SXTBSTAICCE AND SHADOW. 81; Re again remembered the honied smile^ which was playing on her lips; the ea- ger anxiety with which he had waited? for words, which were to render him the- most blest of human beings. Lady Lauretta was with her daughter^ and her rank being well understood,, he should now have an opportunity of show- ing the sarcastic Fitzallan, that an higher object than a "fortunate foundling*' claimed the regard and the attentions of Henry Elwy n. Eagerly he advanced to la- dy Lauretta, who, with her accustomed ease, and in her usual figurative manner of speaking, told him that she '' thought he- had vanished for ever from the regions of the earth/' " But now that I have lighted on a celestial hemisphere," replied Henry,. gai^y^ '^ ab> give me: welcome!" and^ b5> he: 83 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. he turned towards Lauretta, who affected to be constrained and distant, yet seem- ed at the same time to be overwhelmed by embarrassing consciousness, as her eyes dropt before his ardent gaze. The evening passed rapidly ; Henry accounted for his hasty flight from Chel- tenham ; he talked of the pain which he had suffered in the idea of so abrupt a desertion, and of the strange appearance which his conduct must have worn to the lovely Miss Montgomery, and the amiable lady Lauretta. The young lady still adopted some- thing of reserve and diffidence in her manner; her mamma was flowery and metaphorical; both ladies, however, contrived to make him understand that they were to leave town in the morning, but neither of them seemed inclined to SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 83 to tell him to what spot they meant to bend their course. How tantalizing— how — ^now provokingly mortifying was this! had he then found the charming Lauretta only to lose her again ? could he have no opportunity of renewing his suit ? — of hearing that delightful avowal which she was once on the point of making to him ? He eagerly assisted the ladies to their carriage, and passion- ately pressing the hand of Lauretta, he asked her to admit him in the morning, prior to her departure; smiling she gave him her address; and returning vvith Fitz- allan to the tavern where they had dined, the morning dawned on them while toast- ing to the health of the beauteous Lau- retta Montgomery, in bumpers of spark- ling champaigne. Fitzallan congratulated his friend on S4r SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. his conquest, and declared, tliat under the mask of bashfuhiess, under the sem- blance of wounded pride, and apparent displeasure at his long desertion, he could perceive that the heart of Lauretta was firmly his. The natural vanity of Henry inclined him to believe it; every succeeding glass of the exhilarating liquor strength- ened him in this opinion, and he return- ed home in most elevated spirits. Elwyn Hall and the humble Mary Ellis were en- tirely put to flight ; he thought not of his journey ; his head was full of champaigne, his heart of Lauretta Mont- gomery; he thought only of pursuing her wherever she might go. To feverish and disturbed dreams, succeeded some hours of deep sleep, and Henry awoke at a later hour than he had fixed to ap- pear SrSSTANCE AND SHADOW. 85" pear before the object of his admiration. Hastily dressing himself, he lost not a minute in going to the house where Miss: Montgomery had directed him ; alas ! he %vas doomed to experience the severest rebuff, for on making his inquiries, he was answered that both the ladies had been gone for nearly an hour. His first idea was that of instant pursuit, but the person of the house could afford him na clue as to the way which the travellers^ had taken ; all he could learn was, that they had left town, and that they were gone into the country; and not in the best of tempers with Lauretta Montgo- mery, neither with himself, he retraced his footsteps to his own lodgings, with rather a slower pace than he had set out. Fitzallan soon joined him, and laughed at his fallen and altered countenance; it was 86 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. was too sore a subject for raillery ; and to avoid the bantering of his friend, to dissipate his own thoughts, and not knowing what else to do, Elwyn actually did make a desperate effort, and left London that afternoon. CHAP. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. &T CHAP. V. But from these dames I turn, and as before^ What suits not with my humour, hurry o'er. Partenopex de Bloix. On the evening of the following day, Henry Elwyn reached the Hall. He felt no little degree of perturbation as he thought of the changes which had taken place since he had last been there ; he felt awkward at the idea of meeting Mary Ellis, for he had certainly been strangely neglectful of her; " she was a good girl, and must have met witb some unpleasant trials since he had quit- ted S9 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW^ ted her;" he feared to look in her coun- tenance for her opinion of his mother ; but in his usual precipitate manner he entered the house, and not letting the servant announce him, he preceded him into the drawing-room. Mrs. Elwyn was there, seated in high giggle, over a card-table, with Mrs. Buxton (the wife of an attorney), and Mrs. and Miss Lum- liey, the apothecary's widow and daugh- ter, previously mentioned as being re*- sidents at Norton, while Miss Lawson, with great apparent consequence, was arranging patches at a little worlc-table; and Mary Ellis, with meek complacency, received the work from her hands, and mechanically followed the directions given her; her taper fingers dexterously plying the needle, while her truant thoughts STJBSTANCi: AND SHADOWS 85^ thoughts were reverting to times that were past, and to the recollection of more pleasant hours. Mrs. Elwyn had just picked up the odd trick, and declared '' it was very extra- ordinary — very much so indeed, with her hand, for she did not think to have made three tricks for her part, hadn't the cards played so monstrous lucky," when she rose astonished from her seat, to make a proper curtsey to a gentleman, and to receive him with due politeness, not at the first moment recognising who it was;^ but when she did, she cried out, " Oh i bless and preserve us all, if here isn't Mr. Henry himself! — who should have thought of seeing you, sir ? — quite a stranger — very so indeed !** In the mean time, all the ladies were put into some little trepidation. Mrs. Lumley 90 SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. Liimley pointed to her daughter to hold^ up, while the young lady, throwing something between a toss^ and a fling towards her mother, pretended to be deeply intent in adjusting the apologij for a tucker, which covered about half an inch, and left a wide expanse without a shade. Mrs. Buxton shuffled the cards with much dexterity, preparatory to her adversary's next deal ; and Miss Lawson^ perceiving that Henry having shaken hands wifh his mother, had now ap- proached the trembling sempstress, ad- ded yet more business and consequence to her air, as she now contrived, and Kow cut out. Mary Ellis had indeed been surprised at seeing Elwyn enter; but it was an agreeable surprise; his re- turn gave her great pleasure, and she received him with one of those good- humoured SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 91 humoured smiles, which always found the way to his heart; and at this momeivt Lauretta Montgomery was, in her turn^ forgotten. " And what, in the name of fortune, are you about here, Mary?" asked he, taking up a handful of the patches which Miss Lawson had just assorted, and throwing them into a mingled heap. "Oh ! my dear sir, for Heaven's sake take care' what you do!" cried Miss Lawson, ''you will absolutely ruin me l" Henry begged ten thousand pardons, assured Miss Lawson his intentions were quite harmless; and asking for Mr.EIwyn, and promising Mrs. Elwyn to return to tea, he left the room. Henry was perfectly acquainted with the faces of the females who were thus snugly associated with his mother, but wa& ©f SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. was rather surprised, and not much gra- tified, at seeing their apparent intimacy. Miss Lawson laughed very much, and joked with Mary on the mischief whicb bad been done to her labours, and de- clared that she should make the ''naugh- ty boy set all the patches in order again himself." Mrs. Elwyn was asking the ladies alf round the table '' whether they did not think Mr. Henry a very fine young man, and very much grown?" and when she put the question to Miss Lum.Iey, her mother answered, rather quickly, for her, ** Oh, poor girl, she is so shy, Mrs. Elwyn, that I do suppose she would not have found out whether he had come into the room upan his head or bis heels." '' Oh dear me 1 what then, I suppose Miss SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. S3 Miss Lumley is very shy — very so indeed. Well now, do ijou kDow I should never have thought it/' said Mrs. El wyn, while, as if to fTove yov todif^'prove to the correct-^ ness of her mother's statement, Miss Lumley strode, with no very feminine or timid air, to the glass, saying, as she twisted and twirled, and tried to turn an obstinate lock, '* The deuce is in my hair, I do really believe, for it never will sit as 1 would have it." " Miss Lumley, when you have settled your curl, we should be glad if yoii would lead," said Mrs. Buxton. " I am coming in a minute," said the shy creature. Miss Lawson was between thirty and forty yeai-s of age ; she had passed through life with successive and conti- nued hopes of marriage, which SSd not yet 94 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. yet been accomplished; but even now she had not relinquished them;, as she was frequently heard to say, that from thirty- five to forty-five in the life of woman, was the most fascinating period^ and that any woman who had a tolerable figure and address, might then do what she pleased with the other sex. Now Miss Lawson*s figure "w^s scarce! t; tolerable; but her address (assurance would perhaps be as good a term) made up for it. She had the art of expressing herself wifh fluency, and had caught by ear a few of the opinions, and some of the phrases and sentiments of those per- sons with whom she had occasionally mixed ; ingenious enough in work, ready in conversation, falling in with the habits of her superiors, and flattering them by sliding^ into their opinions, she had mingled SiTBSTA'isCE AKD SHADOW. 95 Tningled in society, and readily accepted invitations which had been given, from the mixed and various motives of good- nature, policy, convenience, family con- nexion, &c. &c. Her real knowledge was very superficial; her mind was by no means cultivated, neither her man- ners refined ; but by great plausibility of manner, and quoting the words of others, she passed for an agreeable wO' man with those who did not perceive that her conversation was not all of a piece; that the high flown was often join- ed to something below par; that her en- comiums were exaggerated beyond all the bounds of common sense, or the proprieties of language; and tl»at she would break into the same rapture on seeing a coloured ribbon, as on seeing a first-rate man of war lull rigged and sailed. 96 SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. sailed, and call both " beautiful !" I£ she disliked the shape of a bonnet, she might probably have called it *' awfully vulgar!" and have expressed her ap- probation of the grand ruin of Tintern Abbey (Fike another lady whom we have been told of), by calling it '' a very gen- teel place." Positive and superlative were the only degrees of comparison which Miss Lawson used; with her irife^ riors she was 'positive, or with those whom she deemed her equals; with her swperiors^he dealt solely in superlatives; and her notes of admiration were thicker than we find them in some modern pub- lications. She inew every person men-^ tioned in conversation, and was intimately acquainted with those who were distin- guished by rank, wealth, or talent. If an original idea was started, '•' it was verv SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. S7 *» very singular, but she had been thinking BO herself at that moment;'' if any thing was to be explained to her^ she under- stood it before the explanation was be- gan; if any thing to be related^ she had heard it some time since, but did not think it right to mention it^ or was charged to secrecy ; and then she knew the very best way to work this, and the very best method to make that-r-oh she was the verv crack of the village, and certainly called a most agreeable charm- ing creature by all who knew her.. That familiarity which is naturally at- tached to such self-important characters, had nothing attractive in it to Mary Ellis ; her own character was so widely different, that, like the retiring mimosa, she felt herself recoil from an intimacy with Miss Lawson ; but that lady was not VOL. 11. F easily 9S SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. easily daunted, and '' my dear/' and '' Mary," and '' love," were the usual appellations of regard with which she addressed her; while to Mrs. Elwyn she answered, "^ exactly so," ''perfectly cor- rect," *' indeed it is," " oh surely, my dear ma'am," *' I perfectly coincide with you." And could such marked respect and approbation do otherwise than please Mrs. Ehvyn, who, elevated to a height which rendered her weak head rather dizzy, required a little encouragement to enable her to sit steadily ? And the marked air of deference with which Miss Lawson waited for her decision on the combination of a patch, was a very gra- tifying appeal to the judgment of this sood ladv; while Miss Lawson was often thrown into a " luminous crisis " when the patch was formed, and was never weary SUBSTANCE AND SHADO^)^. 99 ^v'eary of reiterating, *' oh, beautiful! charming! simply elegant I whatanagree- able diversity ! — what a combination of light and shade ! — see how elegantly these colours are diversified! — well, this must be the very mirror of the graces — I call this the very marrow of patchwork; here's a delicate combination — now you must look at it, my dearest Mary ; is it not sweet?" Mary would perhaps have thought the marrow an awkward combination; but Miss Lawson's raptures were unbroken, and gave no time for comment on the side of her hearers, neither for con- sideration on her own. Without any decided view, it was the fixed rule of Miss Lawson to endeavour to attract the particular notice of every man she met, and perceiving that Henry Elwyn had F ^Z ren:arded 100 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. regarded Mary with the partiality^ and addressed her with the unstudied fami- liarity of an old acquaintance, she pre- tended to be more intimate with her, and more partial to her, than slie had ever yet been ; and drawing her chair close to hers, she waited, with no little degree of impatience, for the re- appear- ance of the beau. ^ He returned as he promised to the tea-table, having left Mr. Elwyn to his accustomed afternoon's nap ; but dis- gusted with the girlish frivolity of Miss Lawson, and hurt at seeing the familiar as- sociation of his mother with such a party, his pride was too much wounded to ren- der him a very agreeable acquisition to their society; and he threw himself into a cFjiir at a distance from the circle, and scarcely uttered a voluntary word. Mrs. StTBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 101 Mi*s Elwyn was the first to remark his silence. " Why, Mr. Henry, what is the matter, sir? I believe you have left your heart behind you now. Why, sir, you are very grave and solid — very so indeed ; fatigued with your journey, sir, I sup- pose?*' " Noj ma'am/* answered Elwyn, gravely. " Come, ladies, can't yon tell us something a littie entertaining? — can't you help u = to a little news to entertain Mr. Henry? — So, sir, we have got new neighbours, I find." '' Have we, ma'am ?" answered Elwyn, with an indifferent air. '' Oh yes, sir," sc.id Mrs. Buxton, who row found a theme on which she could expatiate, *' Salcombe Lodge is taken F 3 at 102 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. at last; well, I never thought as Mr. Morland would have got his price; but these Indians you see do not mind money any more than dirt." *' I suppose not — I suppose not," said Mrs. Elwyn. " What is the gentleman called that has taken it?'* said Mrs. Lumley; "I never can recollect his name." '' Oh, general Halifax," said Miss Law- son ; ^' he is well known ; he lived in the East a great while, and has an immense fortune." ''Avery sensible man, I dare say/* said Mi*s. Elwvn. ** At any rate he is an extreme fasci- nating one," said Miss Lavvson, affecting a half sigh ; '' and he is very— rer^ hand- some, lean assure you, Sophia," turning towards Mi.ss Lumley. '^ You SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 103 '* You know him^ I suppose. Miss Law- son ?" said the literal Mrs. Elwyn. *' Not absolutely acquainted, my dear madam ; but from my intimate know- ledge of governor Purbeck and lady Elizabeth, and of colonel Vetton and Mrs. , and of half a hundred more of the great people that came from the East, I seem to claim a sort of intimacy with the Halifaxes already; indeed, the general and myself now do every thing but speak; we exchange very — what I call friendly looks, and I will venture to say, he knows me very well by report ; we look at one another, as much as to say, ' we are to be acquainted.* The Lodge family will be a most agreeable acquisition/' " Mrs. Halifax never stirs out, I am told,'* said Mrs. Buxton. F 4 ^' A very 9 104 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. *' A very great invalid^ I dare say/'' said Mrs. Elwyn, " I don't know as to that/* said Mrs. Lumley; '' they say she can eat, and drink, and sleep/* " But law, mamma, they say her face is as yellow as an orange/' ^* And her back almost as round,'* said Miss Lawson, in an under voice, which was meant to be perfectly distinguish- able to Henry Elwyn. " A very agreeable, sensible lady, I dare say,'* said Mrs. Elwyn. "■ I have been told she had a great fortune,'' said Mrs. Lumley. "She looks as if she had/' said Mfss' Sophia. '*' She is considerably older than Ha- lifax/* said Miss Lawson ; '' I understand &he was a raustee, or a Creole, or some* thing. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 10f> thing, and the rich widow of a nabob, and that she was in ill-health when the general married her; but she has held out some years already, it seems/' *' And if she eats, and drinks, and sleeps, though her face may be the co- lour of an orange, she may hold out some years longer,'' said Mrs. Buxton. *' And I suppose they have a great many servants^ and live very genteel, and all that," said Mrs. Elwyn. ''Princely, princely!'* replied Miss Lawson ; " oh, I assure you Halifax has all that about him. These East Indians know how to live; I must know, fori have been a great deal amongst them;" then follov/ed a long account of the general's equipage, retinue, and establish- irient, which was garnished by the remarks of the different hearers and relaters. F 5 Mrs. K)6 SUBSTANCE A*ND SHADOW. }Ays. Elwyn declared her intention of visiting at the Lodge, a declaration with which Henry was not inuch pleased^ for he did not like t-he idea of her exposing herself to the ridicule, or the modest Mary to the unqualified admiration of an os- tentatious and voluptuous East Indian. '' Wait a little till vou hearsomethin^j about them^ madam, till you find whe- ther they are worth your notice," said Elwyn. " Oh I dare say they are very sensible good kind of people, and you see Miss Lawson does know something about them ; and you find they live very gen- teel, and keep several carriages." *' Oh they live in good style/' said Miss Lawson, *' certainly, very good style; but, as Mr. Kenry Elwyn justly observes, circumspection ought to be used SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 107 used in making an acquaintance; indeed I was going to make the same remark myself." Miss Lawson had thus contrived in a moment to slide into the inferred senti- ments of Henry Elwyn, and to be of tlie same opinion with him; she fancied that he was particular in his notions on these points, but it could not do her the least harm to adopt this peculiarity for the time being; and she therefore most sravelv added, that connexions ^vere much easier made than shaken off. Mary had penetration enough to re- mark the inconsistency of this lady's sentiments, and her inslantaneous change of tone; she threw rather an arch, though it was a momentary glance, to- vards Henry; he understood it; and gratified at this fly appea], and amused ¥ Q with lOS SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. with Miss Lawson*s variability, he said — - "We must not be fastidious; there is something ill-natured and suspicious in withholding our friendship from a fa- mily, till we have pryed about to disco- ver the family tree, and the whole line of their genealogy, and all the secret anecdotes of their ancestors/' " Exactly so," cried MissLawson; " I was just going to make the same obser-' vation/* '' A very sensible remark, Mr. Henry/* said Mrs. Elwyn ; " don't you think so, ladies ? — very so indeed."' " Intimacies with strangers have fre-- qiiently been productive of unpleasant consequences," pursued Henry. '* How very just is that!" said Miss Lawson ; '' my dear sir, we agree exactly." ** We cannot disagree, madam,'' said Henry^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 10^ Henry, with a half bow, while the man- ner in which he spoke raised a smile on the countenance of Mary. Henry Elwyn was not sorry when the party adjourned ; Mrs. Elwyn then re- treated in great apparent bustle, to issue orders respecting the family arrange- ments. Mr. Elwyn was still in his elbow chair, in the library, and was not to be disturbed; Mary Ellis had stolen oiU of the room when the party were dis- persing; Henry now sought her in the accustomed apartment, and there he found her. Slie was leaning her head on her hand, in a pensive posture, but started on seeing him, and welcomed him in her accustomed manner. *' Mary," cried he, and the eager im- petuosity of his manner proved the deep interest which he took in the question, '' dearest 1 10 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. " dearest Mary, tell me, are you com- fortable? are you happy?" '' Why should you ask the question, Mr. Henry ? — why should you doubt it?" '' Oh, for Heaven's sake' do not you learn to Mr. Henry me too. I heard, Mary, that — that — the manners of my — the different society — indeed, Mary, I think you cannot like the society of these village gossips/* *' I am not/astldious — I have no riglit to be so," answered Mary ; " Mrs. El- %vyn derives amusement from their com- pany ; she is very kind and obliging to me, and I should be very culpable, very presumptuous, if I were to adopt sen- timents which were inimical to hers, on such trifling and insignificant matters/* Henry saw the good sense and the de- licacy of mind which had led Mary thus obliquely SU IJST A N C E A N* D S II A D O U . J 1 1 obliquely to praise his mother, at the vcrv moir.ent when he longed^ vet dread- ed, to ask her opinion of her; he snatch- ed her hand to his eyes, saying — *' Ami- able^, interesting girl, 1 don't know any one like you !'* Mary was surprised at his warmth ; his approbation gave her pleasure; she had merely uttered the genuine senti- ments of her heart; for great as was the difference between the last and the pre- sent Mrs. Elwyn^ yet as the present lady treated her with kindness and jrood-na- (ure, she was too candid not to acknow- ledge it to her son, arid too considerate not to wish that she might amuse herself in the manner which best suited her tast^ and inclination. '* Teach me some of your forbear- ance 112 SUBSTANCE ;^ND SEAoaw. ance — your sweetness — your magnani- mity, Mary," cried Elw^n. ^'WenuiSt tiy to teach ourselves in these points/* said Mar) ; ''and I feel myself so very unskilful, and so great a novice, that I dare not attempt to teach another." ' '' How can you bear the sjUy and \(y\f tittle-tattle of the circle in which I just now found you?" " We must not be fastidious, yovi know," said Mar^^sm ill ng; '' I think these %vere vour own words to Miss Law^son.'* " If any one has a right to be so, it is you," returned Elwyn, with animation, '' for who are so eminently calculated to enjoy the pleasures of a refined inter- course, of rational intelligent conver- sation— — " '* Mel" SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 113 '*Me!" interrupted Mary, "met consider what you are saying, Harry; have / a right, to be fastidious ? consider — consider for a moment, what was Mary Ellis ? — in what station was she found by her esteemed protectress; and say, if you dare, that she has a right to choose companions and society for those so much above her. Oh, Harry, you for- get yourself — you forget me!" Henry had forgotten himself; over- come by the contemplation of the mild graces^ the unobtrusire virtues of Mary, he Rad nearly given utterance to the warm admiration with which his heart was os^erflowlng; but she had recalled him to recollection ; he remembered the sarcastic conversation of Fitsnlfan ; he remembered the ridicule attached to his manner, when talking to him of this for- tiinat-e 114 SURSTAKCK AND SHADOW* tunate foundling ; a sudden change took place in his manner, a sudden revulsion in his feelings ; he reddened — he co- loured—he bit his lips — he turned away from N'ary, and, after a minute's silence, he said — *' Have you seen this general Haifax?'* " Never/' answered she. ^' Seriously/* s^/id he, *' for to you, Mary, I speak my 7'eal unqualified sen* timents, I think some caution should always be used in forming intimacies with strangers. My mother has lived so long in retirement, that she may be cal- led quite a novice in the world; and Mr. Elwyn has so habituated himself to ease and inacrivily, that he scarcely ex- ercises his understanding, unless he is obliged to it. I believe, for once, I must assume the office of mentor, and give my SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 115 my cautions with the imposing air of worldly wisdom.'* The entrance df Mrs. Elwyn put an end to the tete-d-ietc. For a female, and d, young female, Ma- ry Ellis had a very small share of vanity ; yet she could not help feeling gratified at the marked approbation which her conduct and sentiments had drawn forth from Henry Elwyn. Ills return to the Hall gave her undissembled satisfaction, for he had been the companion of her infancy; he had participated in her plea- sures, and had feelingly sympathized ia hersorrows, without indulging any roman- tic visions, or ;;iving the reins to a too sanguine imagination. She thought his regard seemed heightened, rather than di- triinishcd by his late absence. .,Mi's. Elwyn appeared very good-hu- mourccl 116 S^UBSTAKCE AND SUADOW. moiired to her; the wishes of her sorr seemed to give the law to her condircty and his opi:;ion to be the bias of her judgmeni. The indulgent fondness of Mr. Elwyn for Hcniv knew no bounds, "Life/* th ghf Mary, "would stilJ be invalual^le, we e it to be spent in contributing to the happiness, to the we-fare f ilarry ^ Iwyn. ' But she suf- fered not herself to dwell on this idea; she recalled her wander! >ig thoughts, and she lost not the present good in vain anticipations. The first three orfnir days of Elwyn's return were passed in the damestic cir- cle; he watched Mary Ellis in her occu- pations, admired the Ui^deviating sweet- ness with which she attended to the tri- fling and querrulous repetitions of his mother, and the unwearied patience with which: SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 117 which she assisted her in her favourite employment. The tranquil serenity of the one formed a Une contrast to the bustlini^: and hurrying importance of the other; and though the insignificancy and weakness of his mother's character was thus displayed to his view, yet it ceased to wound him as acutely as before, for he could turn with deligl.ted admiration to the contemplation of Mary Ellis, Mr. Elwyn seemed to have made peace with his conscience in the performance of his promise. Ellen was the mistress of Elwyn Hall ; his son was now called by his own name ; and, having exerted himself thus far, he relapsed into his usual indolence ; and, save when he took his daily food, or his accustomed pota- tions, or when he smiled on Henry, or was teazed by frequent repetition to an- swer lis SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. swer some question of Mrs. Elwyn's, he seemed as totally abstracted from all passing occurrences, as if his faculties had been entranced in sleep. This total imbecility, this inert tor- pidity, gave Henry the deepest concern ; he had ever felt the liveliest gratitude towards Mr. Elwyn, he iwiv respected him as a father — respected him notwith- standing the flagrant errors of his con- duct, and would willingly have drawn a veil over them for ever. The unfortu- nate and guilty habit of intemperate en- joyment, which had originated in an un- quiet conscience, had now taken too firm a hold to be shaken ofl". Henry ob- served the daily inroads which it was making on his corporeal as well as his mental faculties ; he saw, he lamented, but he was unable to prevent it, Mrs. Elwyn SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 119 Elwyn was not so clear-sighted ; her per- ceptions were not quick, neither were her feelings painfully acute ; she often talked of what Mr. Elvvyn had be n ; ^\'hat he Vjas, appeared only to strike her as the natural change from the meridian to the decline of life* had she seen her "husband staggering riotously into the room, she would probably have called him *' a little merrv ;" but when taking his accustomed naps, or sitting in stupid reverie, she never imagined that he could be otherwise than perfectly sober, though his faculties were then as com- pletely besotted, as if he had been ex- hilarated to the poir.t which she would have termed ''a little merry." CHAP. 120 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. CHAP. VI. So ?ung the sirens as of yore Upon the false Ausonian shore. MoORE, After the dissipation and confusion of the metropolis, the quiet calm of th6 Hall was not unpleasant to Elwyn ; but accustomed to use a great deal of exer- cise when in the country, he frequently mounted his horse, and going out un- attended in the morning, returned only when the shades of evening were closing around him. It was from one of these absences, that Mary remarked the unusual animation of his manner at his return; with great vivacity SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 121 vivacity he rallied on the sedentary oc- cupation which engaged so much of her time, and assured her that no modern woman thouf^ht of takin^: a needle in her hand. / '' How would all my patches be sewn together, if that were to be the case here.^ answer me that question, Mr. Henry?" But Mr. Henry was not in the humour for answering questions, particularly from his mother; for having snatched up Mary's scissars from the table, he was most expertly amusing himself in cut- ting Mrs. Elvvyn's prettiest patches into slircds. '' Why, dearme — bless us ail — only to think how mischievous you are this even- ing V* cried Mrs, Ehvyn ; *' l->w bless me, Mr. Henry, only to see what you have been about ! you have cut up my two VOL. II. G best If J. SUBSTANCE A!CD SHADOW, 'best patches, the very ones which J or^ diiined for the middle of the quilt." . 'VThere you see the folly of predesti- nating a patch, ma*am,'* answered he, ■with careless levity, cutting on, and hum- ming an Italian song. ** Do you sing Italian, Mary ?'^ Mary lifted her eyes.; they seemed to a?ik him whether he had not forgotten himself., '' Ah, true, 1 think you never ]*»^arnt Italian — what delightful strains!** *' I do not hear them/' said Mrs. El- wyn. " ihear them even now/* said Henry> "that is^ in my mind's ear, madam." '* I understand nothing at all about it,*' said Mrs. Elwyn ; " but I think you sceni very funny and comical to-night, Mr. Herry— I wonder where you have been?'' Mary SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 1^5 Mary Ellis thought him neither funny or comical ; she perceived bv his flashed countenance and inflamed eyelids, that h-e had taken more wine than he ouf^ht to have done; and as s/ie conceived the gaiety of his manner to originate from this cause, it had a very opposite effect upon hers ; she felt graver, and more inclined to be silent than usual ; and she could scarcely command her feelings to answer the raillery with which he inces- santly assailed her. Evidently he had* been in company, and hearing music; whose then were the delightful strains vhich had made such an impression on his fancy ? Mary longed to know ; she had never before felt so curious about a matter of such little moment ; but she did not indulge her curiosity by asking «; 2 one 1-24 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. one question. In an oblique way, Mrs. Elwyn asked fifty, such as, *' Where can you have been, I wonder?" and '' I should like to know what you have seen that has made you so merry ?" but Henry did not satisfy her, and Mary was left to conjecture. The following morning Henry Elwyn was absent from X'ao, breakfast-table ; this was an unusual circumstance; many in- quiries were made ; the ansv;er was, that he had been gene out on horseback above an hour. *' Very extraordinary, very so indeed^** said Mrs. Elwyn. The Italian strains were now in the mincVsearo^ Mary; had they not been warbled from the lips of Beauty ? She half sighed as she handed the cream to Mr. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 125 Ish. Elwyn instead of the sugar; but soon recollecting herself, she recovered her accustomed self-possession. " Well now, my dear Miss Mary/' said Mrs. Elwyn, " I have ordered the car- riage, and you and I will take our ride now unknown to Mr. Henry; we'll puz- zle him this time. This general What-is- it, and his lady, must think it very un- genteel and unpolite in me, you see, who are what you may call the head person here (and she bridled with no little as- sumption of consequence), if I do not call upon them ; from all accounts they are very sensible genteel people ; so, as I was telling Mr. Elwyn, we will go this very morning/' *' This morning, ma'am!" repeated Mary, '' had you not better — had you not " G 3 "Oh 126 SUBSTANCE AND SIIABOVT. '' Oh no — I had better nothing at all,** said the lady, with a decisive air; ** 1 go this very morning ; Mr. Elwyn is not very well, he says, to go with me, so I shall make your apologies to the gene- ral, my dear," turning to him, ^' in tivery genteel manner, and say you will take the very first opportunity of waiting on him — that will be polite; and so, Miss Ellis, you will be ready to go with me at twelve ; 'tis but an hour's ride, and then we shall get there at one— and smarten yourself up, for I assure you 1 shall make a point of shewing myself as Mrs, Elwyn." " Aye, do, do, Ellen," said Mr. Elwyn, as he put a piece of buttered muffin in- to his mouth ; ** if Harry had been here^ be might have gone with you/* '' Why, very true, so he might indeed^ sir— SUBSTAVCE AND SHADOW. 1^7 Sir — he might indeed ; but you see he did not seem much inclined to visit these strangers; he does not seem to like these foreigners somehow; but, for t;/7/ part, *tb nothing to me at all ; I would as leave go to see twenty of 'em as £ would one; I should behave all the same —very civil and genteel to them all, and conduct myself as your wife should, my dear; I should show 'em I know how to behave/' It was not often that Mary Ellis felt herself inclined to oppose the wishes of those around her, but on this occasion, she would gladly have been excused froiti attending Mrs. Elwyn. Her repugnance to the visit arose entirely from having heard Henry Elwyn express his senti- ments on the subject ; it was plain that lie wished to use caution, and to make c 4 inq^uirieS;, 198 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. inquiries, before an intercourse was be- gan with the new family ; would he not think his mother foolish and imprudent, thus to seize the hour of his absence to make the visit? — would he not think that she disregarded his opinion, and slighted his advice ? but the decisive tone of Mrs. Elwyn, and the quiet concurrence of her husband, had given Mary no alternative but an open refusal ; and as this would have been departing from the rule of conduct she had prescribed to herself, as indeed it would have done no good (for Mrs. Elwyn would then have gone alone), she sedulously tried to conceal her mor- tification, and to attend that lady with an appearance of cheerfulness : but, alas! it required some resolution to approach Mrs. Elwyn, who, seeking on this occai- sion to show her own consequence, had so SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 129 SO ill-assorted her dress, and so ill chosen her colours, that she was far more like some farcical character in an entertain- ment, than any thing in common, much less genteel life. An elegant sarsnet pe- lisse, shot with green (which had been made for the poor Clara, but which she had not lived to put on), was put over a yellow silk gown, and a large crimson scarf shawl, which, thrown over a person of an elegant shape and air, would have given grace and relief by its folded dra- pery, was so huddled and bundled on^ that it quite disfigured her; a light blue silk bonnet (of the truest blue generally seen at elections), well ribboned and crimped, was placed on her head; and neither a short nor a long, but ^fiill and highly-stiffened veil, spread out like an* G 5 umbrella^ 130 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. umbrella, and dilated with every waving breeze. The sight of the pelisse alone would have overcome poor Mary, for it would have recalled a thousand fond and pain- fully affecting images to her memory; but the confusion of colours, and of co- vering, was so great, that she did not im- mediately recognise it. " Well, now I am ready. Miss Mary, and very smart, an't I? — this pelisse, you see, fits me to a nicety; so the last Mrs. Elwyn must have been my exact size and shape. I had no occasion for my shawl, it being quite warm to-day; but it is a? very handsome one, and I thought it would be an hundred pities not to show it; and how d'ye like my new blue bon- net ? I think it mighty becomings and very IKTBSTANCE AND SETA DOW. tSl very genteel — very so indeed ; and this^ here real lace veil, being so nicely starch- ed, you see, sets away from my face; I don't like any thing mopping and hood" h'ng, and covering up my face, for I am not ashamed of my face, Miss Mary ; Mr. Elwyn used to call it a very pretty face." The coach was at the door, and in the act of getting in, Mrs. Elwyn said — "AS- you drive through- Norton, stop at Miss^ Lawson's/* The coachman drove off. *' Miss Lawson wall like very well to go with us, i dare say,*' continued Mrs. EU wyn ; "it will be but good-humoured ta give her a lift, you see; you know-57iff has no carriage, and *tis not always fine- weather for walking ; she's, a* very nice- agreeable lady, and' I am sure very politer to me — she'll be an agreeable acquisition 132 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. to our party — very so indeed; and know* ing, as she says, so many of these here Indians, from east to west, sheil be quite free and ready with them/* If Mary's vvi^h had been consulted, she would not have particularly desired Miss Lawson to be of the party ; but it was not for her to make excep- tions ; Mrs. Elwyn had a right to do as jshe pleased. The coach presently arrived at Norton, and Miss Lawson was soon equipped, and showed her sense of the obligation con- ferred on her by Mrs. Elwyn, in the ex- ulting kiss of the hand with which she saluted the Lumlevs and Mrs. Buxton, as she rolled by their respective doors. " And where is Mr. Henry Elwyn, my love?" asked Miss Lawson, withameaning air. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 133 air, as she addressed Mary ; '' how comes he not to attend us on this occasion ?" *' Why Mr. Henry is gone outj you see^ and we do not know where," said Mrs. Ehvyn. *' I wonder you do not know. Miss Ellis," said Miss Lawson, laying a stress on the monosyllable you ; " I thought he told you every thing/* *' But you find he does not,*' answer^- ed Mary, rather laconically. "Why should you think he did. Miss Lawson?" asked Mrs. Elwyn. " Because it is natural, my dear ma- dam, and because every body can see with hair an eye that Mr. Henry — well, well, I will say no more ; perhaps 1 may confuse the dear girl," and she took Mary's hand, with an air of fond consi- deration. "I do 134 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOTt. '' I do not think Miss Mary would have been at all confused rf you had said on, for there is nothing at all of that kind/' said Mrs. Elwyn, in a graver tone than usual ; '' my so» Mr. Henry is, to be sure, a very fine genteel yaung man,, and eve- ry body can see as well as you. Miss Law- son, that go where he will, all aver the world,, he has only to ask and to Jiave,'" A painful feeling oppressed the heart of Mary ; unconsciously she let down the glass, and leant her head put of the- window. '' Oh yes, that is very apparent/' re- plied Miss Lawson, ^vho instantaneously eaught the tone of Mrs. Elwyn ; '' I declare, for my own part, 1 don't know a more truly fascinating young man ; and then, my dear madam, when we consider Ms great advantages in other respects^, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW^. 13"5 he may make a connexion any ^vhere."' *' That is what I have just said/' said Mrs. Elwyn ; " and I dare say he will— I dare say he will." '' The men know their own value now/*^ said Miss Lawson, again addressing her- self to Mary; but Mary's head was still averted.'* " Mr. Henry is very particular — very nice," said his mother, '' very so indeed; perhaps he is a little too much so." ^' My dear madam, surely this is er- ring on the right side." '* May be it is," said Mrs. Elwyn ; *' but now about these gentlefolks at Sal- combe Lodge; you see he did not seem much to approve of my going ; but I "was determined, if only for curiosity sake, to go, and to show^myself as Mrs* Elwyn, of Elwyn Hall/' '' Very 136 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW.- '^ Very laudable, very proper, verj praiseworthy, surely,*' said Miss Lawson. ■' Why, Miss Ellis, you are much engaged in looking out at the prospect." *' This lawn always strikes me as being very pretty," said Mary. '' And the. house stands well,'' said Miss Lawson ; " Morland was at an immense expence in raising this villa; I always said he would overshoot the mark; how- ever, it seems that he has got a good te- nant now, and I dare say a good price/* Through a bold sweep, the coach now stopped at the entrance of the Lodge; an universal agitation pervaded the frame of Mary as the step was let down ; a maccaroni footman stood at the portico kicking his heels, and v.histling a tune with great nonchalance, as he watched the party descending from the carriage ; he SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 137 he scarcely replied to Mrs. Elwyn's ques- tion of whether the general and Mrs. Halifax were at home, but with as indif- ferent an air as he had w'orn at the door, he crossed the hall, and by his actions, gave the ladies to understand that they might follow him. He opened the door of a large breakfast-room; Venetian windows, even with the ground, were adorned with light verandas^ which were filled with plants, while the most costly and choicest exotics were ranged within the windows, and perfumed the room with their fragrance; two large and su- perb gilt Indian screens excluded the upper part of the room from view ; the man walked within them, but turning back, said, in a low tone of voice — *' Whom am I to announce ?" *' Mrs. Elwyn, of Elwyn Hall/' replied the 158 SUBSTANCE AND mABOW. the lady, with no little degree of self- consequence, " Miss Lawson, arid Miss Ellis/' An exclamation of surprise wa» heard from behind the screen, and the j>ext moment our agitated Mary found herself wiihin the magic circle, and^ could it be possible ! — yes, the first ob- ject her eyes encountered was Henry filwyn ! A sumptuous and elegant dejewii was placed on a large table, and a par- ty was formed round it, in the manner which we shall describe : near the head of the table, on a Turkish settee, re- clined an elegant female, whose careless attitude and fashionable undress, were calculated to display the fine symmetry of her gracefully-proportioned form ; a very well-looking and graceful man was SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 13^ ^vas presenting her a cup of tea : on the other side of the table, and almost close to a fire of no common size, sat a little homely and deformed woman, of saffron- coloured hue, who looked old enough to be the mother of the whole com- pany ; she seemed very busy in taking care of herself, and neither looked up- wards, or turned to the right or the left to make observations; yet at her right hand, lounging on the corner of a young lady's chair, with one arm thrown care^ lessly round its back, was Henry Elwyn ; his eyes were bent on her bewitching countenance with speaking admiration, as she turned around and spoke to him ^vith a smile of blandishment. A lady 5\'as pouring out the tea at the bottom of the table, with modest and unimportant air; she was not strikingly handsome, and no SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. and the first bloom of youth was passed; and conceiving by her employment^ and by her being the only female who rose from her seat, that she must be the lady of the house^ Mrs. Elwyn advanced to her with a low curtsey, saying — '' Mrs. Halifax, I presume — I hope I have the pleasure of seeing you quite well, ma- dam?^* At the first sound of his mother's voice, Henry Elwyn started, confused and confounded. *' What did she say ?" asked the little old w^oman of the tea-maker, while the gentleman who had been the attendant of the fair recliner, advanced with the air of a man who knew and practised the laws of politeness, and gracefully bowed to the strangers. Mrs. Elwyn, lifting up her hands and eyes SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 141 very fine indeed, madam/* said Mrs. Elwyn, addressing herself at the conclusion of the first song to Mrs. Halifax. "It is exquisite!" said Miss Lawson, ''astonishing!— oh, what heavenly strains! I hope they have not altogether ceased/' looking pleasantly at lady Lauretta, as though she meant throi)gh her interest to ask for a repetition of them; but lady Lauretta did not notice the appeal, and the performance ended. The performer u 2 seemed r4B SOBSTANCE AND SHADOW, seemed to be engaged in an interesting conversation with her companion, which their lowered voices, and the obstruction^ of the screen, prevented from being dis- tinguishable to the rest of the company. *• Very pretty, madam, very so indeed,** said Mrs. Elwyn, addressing Mrs. Halifax. Mrs. Halifax turned round with a la^ conic *'\Vhat?" '* I say music is very pretty, ma'am, very so indeed." " Yes, to those who can hear it," said Mrs. Halifax; '' for wf/part, I don't hear a' single note noiJO — 'tis all in the piano — too much in the piano for me.'* " Music, it is plain, is not Mrs. Hali- fax's /or^e," said the general. '* Very good, very good indeed," said Miss Lawson ; *' oh, what a delightful re- source 1 in hearing such sounds, one can forget SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 149 forget all that is past, present, and to come!" - Mary Ellis had never sat in more pain- ful restraint than during the foregoing scene; her astonishment on finding Har- ry Elwyn at Salcombe Lodge — the mor- tification and embarrassment which his reddening countenance had displayed at their entrance — the easy indifference of lady Lauretta's manner — the abrupt rudeness of Mrs. Halifax — the fashion- able poUfesse of her husband. — and. the assured ease of Miss Montgomery, ail contributed to intinaidate her, and to add to her natural diffidence; a thousand low- ering and vexatious ideas obtruded them- selves on her mind ;; raid she thought Mrs. Elwyn was more tiresome, more silly, more underbred, than she had ever knowa H S her^ J 50 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. her, and that she would never conclude her visit. "I don't know that I ever saw that sort of music in my life/' said Mrs. EI- wyn ; " with your permission, ma'am, I will go and look at it." *' I don't know what you say,*^ said Mrs, Halifax; *' but seeing Mrs. Elwyn rise from her seat, she said — '' if you are going;, good morning to you.'* Mrs. Elw^yn had already moved some paces^ but catching the words of Mrs. Halifax, she hastily turned round to say she was not going, when her crimson shawl, entangling itself in one of the burnished ornaments of the screen (and the lady pulling to extricate it with no little force), it fell with a tremendous Uoise on the floor. *' Heavenly SrBSTANCE AVT) SHADOW. 151 "Heavenly powers! is my Lauretta, is my beautiful Lauretta hurt?'* cried lady Lauretta, for the first time raising herself from the couch. ** No, dearest, sweetest mamma!" cried Lauretta, while Elywn, assisted by Mary, had raised the screen. " Do not trouble yourselves," said the general; '"we'll order i: to be put back; it is quite warm enough; and then we shall be able to see Miss Montgomery, as well as hear her.*' '' I beg a thousand pardons indeed, sir," said Mrs. Elwyn ; " I did not go to do it ; it is all the fault of my shawl, and only see how I have torn it — my spick and span new shawl too ! — real India, sir," shewing it to the general, '* which you, who have been used to them, no doubt observed before." H 4 '' What ^52 5UBSTA15CE AKD SHABOW. " What 25 all this about ?" asked Mrs, Halifax; "what are they putting back the screen for ? we ai^e not going to dance; we shall all be froze to death." '' I am expiring with heat/* said lady Lauretta. '' It is very warm, as your ladyship observed/' said Miss Lawson; then sei- zing the vacated seat of Mrs. Elwyn, she thought it proper to say something to the lady of the house^ and said — " I dare say you feel yourself very chilly, ma'am? ours is a cold climate/' " Well, ^oung lady/' said Mrs. Elwyn^ once more advancing to the harp, " I hope I did not frighten you much ? and I hope, Mr. Henry — I hope, sir, I don't interrupt you ?" "Oh, by no means/' said Lauretta, laughing. " Well/' SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. 155 *' Well/' continued Mrs. Elwyn, hand- ling the instrument, touching all the gilded parts, and smoothing down the strings with her fingers, *' this is very fine, and very grand, very so indeed;- this is worth seeing — I say, Mr. Henry, this is worth seeing ; a very pretty sight, very much so indeed — and cost a good deal, I suppose ; now, pray^^ what might such a thing cost?" ** I don't know,'* said Lauretta, cai;e- lessly, *' No, no, I suppose not/' said Mrs; Elwyn ; '' but your mamma does — I dare say my lady does?" " Alas ! alas ! I acknowledge my utter ignorance," said lady Lauretta, shaking her head, " for of what importance is the cost of Euch an article, in compari- son to its intrinsic worth? oh, play. me H 5 something 154 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. something more — for pity's sake play en, loveliest of lovelies ! for it willi sooth my quivering frame, which has not ceased to vibrate from the recent- paroxysm of terror caused by the fall of that tremendous veil/' Lauretta touched the chords of the barp» " Gh, it steals over my soul, like the «weet south wind upon a bank of violets 1'**^ said lady Lauifetta* Suddenly stopping, Miss Montgomery said — " But that young lady can 'play ; she must give us a song now;'* and turtle ing to Henry, she added — " You must ask Miss Ellis to play/* " No, na," answered Elwyn, with quickness, '^goon, pray go on--I beseech you go on— -I will not be cheated thus ^-^sJie cai^not play — she does not know a HOtSr SUBSTANCE AN1> SHADOW. 155 note — pray, pray — I intreat you conti- ntie." Lauretta did continue; she warbled an Italian air, the very air which Henry had been humming the preceding eve- ning. It evinced the power of her voice, and the facility, of her execution- Mary felt the crimson rise to her cheek when Miss Montgomery had asfced her to play ; she was about to confess her total ignorance of the accomplishment, but the crimson retreated from her cheek.;, it returned with warm tides to her throbr- bing aching heart, as she heard the mor- tifying, the hasty manner in which Hen- ry Elwyn had answered for her, as she marked the eager, the impatient earnest- ness with which he had urged the lovely Lauretta to proceed. The song at length finished;, amidst H & the 156 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOVT. the thanks of Mrs. Elwyn, the passionate encomiums of Henry, and the loud plau- dits of Miss Lawson, v;ho was also got near Miss Montgomery, declaring the harp was always her favourite instrument^ &c. &c. " Well, Mr. Henry," said Mrs. Elwyn, *' and now will you attend us honie.'^ it is time for us to take our leave." *' Oh, no, no ; he must not go." *' You must not quit us to-day, Elwyn,*' said lady Lauretta and general Halifax in a breath. Henry bowed, with the gratified air of a man who put no constraint on his in- clinations in remaining; and Mrs. Elwyn sailed round to make her parting congees, and severally to give her invitations to all the party. To Mrs. Halifax she first addressed herself; her repelling "What? " obliged SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 157 obliged Mrs. El vvyn to repeat what she had before said in a yet louder key. '' I don't know that I shall stir out of the house while I stay in the country ; the general is to do as he pleases/' an- swered the lady, in a very ungracious tone. Lady Lauretta made a slight inclina- tion of her head, saying — '' We must get our friend Elwyn to shew us the way." Miss Montgomery smiled. Miss Let- som, ''seldom went out:'* but gene- ral Halifax was more diffuse. He said — " that he had no notion of standing upon ceremony in the country ; that he should take the earliest opportunity for calling on Mrs. Elwyn; and that he felt highly indebted to Mrs. Elwyn for the obliging favour she had now conferred on Mrs. Halifax." The 158 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, The gentlemen attended them to the door; and the general, having assisted Mrs. Elvvyn and Miss Lawson into the coach, Henry held out his hand to Mary; but as if she had not observed him, she sprang unassisted into the carriage, and returning the parting bow of general Halifax, it drove away. CHAP-. SUBSTANCE AND SH ADO »A'. 159 CHAP. VIT. Shall envy then torment your breast? Moore.. Both Mrs. Elwyn and Miss Lawson im^ mediately broke forth — '' Very genteel sensible people^ very much so indeedJ* ** General HalifaXj what an insinuating man !" *' Mrs. Halifax, poor lady, a very great invalid, you see" *' Lady Lauretta, what a fascinating creature ! — Miss Montgomery, how lovely r " And that Miss Letsom, a very civil- behaved lady." '^ Oh ! my dear Mrs. Elwyn,. one and ali 160 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. all of them ; they are certainly most charming people ! and as to Mr. Henry Elvvyn — well, I say nothing ; but I think it requires very little discernment. Well, ma'am, what say you ? I do not wonder that he finds them quite magnetic : but, my dear Mary, how very grave you are! don't you think Miss Montgomery the loveliest of the lovelies, as her sweet en- gaging mamma beautifully termed her?" " I think her very pretty,'* said Mary. " Pretty !" repeated Miss Lawson, " nay, my dear Mary, she is beautiful ! — she is angelic ! — she has a most ele- gant figure ! — her countenance is surely enchanting ! and, if I am not mistaken, Mr. Henry Elvvyn thinks so." '^ Mr. Henry seems a great favourite with them all, a very great one indeed," said Mrs, Elwyn^ drawing up with no little SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 161 little appearance of satisfaction ; " and I don't wonder at it, for he is really a, very fine young man, very so indeed ; he will make many hearts ache, I dare say; I only hope he wont throw himself away in a hurry, you see, but take time to look about him/' '' Oh, there is little fear of that, ma'am/' answered Miss Lawson, '' for men know their own value. What should you think of Miss Montgomery for a wife for him }" *' Oh, I could have no objection, I am sure, not in the least, to such a genteel young lady as she is — and her mother, a lady of title too! people,- you see. Miss La\yson, of very great fashion !" lyiary Ellis was glad when they were r.eturned to the Hall; and released from the talkativeness of her companions, she repaired 162 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, repaired to her own room. She felt angry with Henry. Elwyn, out of temper with herself> out of love with the whole ^vorld; she had seldom given way to such unprofitable — to such useless rumina^ tions ; she thought of Lauretta Montgo- mery ; the dying strains of her voice yet trilled on her ear; she regretted her own want of musical instruction ; she almost accused her departed friend of neglect, in not having taught her this accomplishment. Tears, bitter tears of mortification, of vexation, trickled down her cheeks; but not long were they suf- fered to flow from these feelings by our virtuous Mary ; they were changed into those of self-accusation and penitence ; she severely reproached herself for in- dulging such wayward emotions; she remembered what she was, and how su-- perior^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 163 perior, how infinitely superior to any thing which she could have expected, had been her instructions and her ac- quirements; she reverted to the senti- ments of her beloved protectress on this very subject. She had often said — ^' I prefer the wildly sweet and untaught voice of my Mary, when singing a sim- ple English ballad, or lifting up itself in pious devotion in the evening hymn, to all the affected trillings of the Italian school. I should injure the sweet sim- plicity I admire, by giving her partial and superficial instruction ; and, unless she were to discover an extraordinary genius for music, and an extraordinary capacity in learning, I should think that I was voluntarily trifling with a large portion of her invaluable time." — '' How j list, how proper were these notions!'' thought 164 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. thought Mary ; '' to mc, to me how ut- terly useless would such an acquisition have been ! for Miss Montgomery, for her—" Mary \vas again relapsing, for a fresh accession of tears started to her eyes^ — ^^ Oh^ may she be as amiable as she is accomplished !" thought she, ** may she be as virtuous as she is beautiful ! for does it not appear that she is destined to be the wife of Henry Elwyn, and will it not make Mary Ellis happy to know that he is so?" This morning had made an entire change in the hopes, in the wishes, in the thoughts of Mary, for though scarce-* ly known to herself, the afifectionate manner of Henry towards her since the decease of her first friend, had strengthr ened the partiality with which she had beheld him from infancy; he had been all SOBSTANCE.; A^D SHADO\r. IGS' all the ^vorld to her of late, the only being who had felt, who had professed an interest for her ; and there was some- thing so isolated and so forlorn in the idea of his making a connexion, which would entirely estrange him, which would ren- der him wholly indifferent to her hap- piness — '' No_, 7iut indifferent to my hap- piness," thought Mary ; " why should I suspect it ? for shall not /feel as anx- iously interested for him, though mar- ried — though far removed — though se- parated for ever from me, as though he were still here — as though I daily saw him?** In taking his usual ride on the morn- ing preceding the one we have been mentioning, Henry Elwyn had encoun- tered a parly who attracted his attention.- A gentleman was driving alandaulet; an elegant- 165 SUBSTANCE AXD SHADOW* elegant-looking female sat by his side ort the box, while another, no less elegant, reclined in the open vehicle; two out- riders followed. Supposing that these were a party from Salcombe Lodge, he was riding on with a slight bow, when an exclamation of surprise from the lady on the box almost entranced him with plea- sure, for he saw his adorable Lauretta Montgomery ; an introduction instantly took place between the gentlemen ; and to the mutual surprise expressed by the Jadies and Henry on finding their vici- nity to each other, he was given to un- derstand, that, till that moment, they had not the remotest idea that they were so near to Elwyn Hall. Elwyn gently chid Lauretta for leav- ing London ; she pretended to have waited for him till she had imagined he must Substance and shadow. 16T must have forgotten the appointment ; but mutual forgiveness was soon extend- ed ; general Halifax insisted on his ac- companying them to Salcombe Lodge, to spend the day '' en families and from this visit we have seen his return,, and have remarked the unusual exhilaration of his spirits. Having given his sentiments with re- gard to visiting the Halifax family^ in so very direct a manner on a preceding occa- sion, and having acted now in such direct opposition to them, Henry thought his conduct would wear a very inconsistent appearance to Mary Ellis ; and, strange as it may appear, he had seldom done any thing foolish, imprudent, or incon- sistent, but he had mentally asked him- self what Mary Ellis would have thought ^ of it? Thus, ^68 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. Thus, in the midst of hk impetuosity, liis versatility, and his pride, this lord of the creation always had a reference to thef 5e//er judgment of an humble and unas- piring female. " Besides/* thought Elwyn, " it would take so much time to give a description of the Montgomerys, his mother would overwhelm him with questions,, she would be so eager to in- troduce herself, he should feel morti- fied and humiliated at her uncouth man- ners, and awkward attempts at civility ;" in fact, he did not choose to mention where he had been, though he was too much elated by the bewitching smiles of Lauretta, and the wine he had taken, not to make it very evident that he had made a very pleasant visit; and setting off the following morning to repeat it, he was dis- covered in the manner we have related. ' Independent SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 16^ Independent of the particular attrac- tion which he found in contemplating the fascinating countenance of Lauretta, Salcombe Lodge was a most pleasant lounge for such a young man as Elwyno The general was very agreeable, very well bredj and very fond of company ; his table was excellent^ and case was the characteristic of the house. The deaf- ness and taciturnity of Mrs. Halifax were no check to the conversation or the relaxation of the guests, for perceiv- ing that they did not operate upon the host, and that, except as to the forms of politeness^ he seemed to consider her as a cypher, they took the tone of their behaviour from him, and amused them- selves as they liked, without the remotest reference to her. The whole village of Norton was in VOL. ir. I commotion T70 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. commotion upon the very unexpected intelligence which was now brought home by Miss Lawson from Salcombe Lodge, and which she circulated with great avi- dity, namely, that " Mr. Henry Elwyn was paying his addresses to Miss Mont- gomery, who was a charming interesting girl, and formed for him; whose mother, lady Lauretta Montgomery, decidedly the most elegant creature in tbe worlds doated on him, &c. &c. &c.*' All the world might, on this subject, have thought with Miss Lawson ; it was evident that Henry Elwyn paid the most particular attention to Lauretta ; it was as evident that his attentions were well received ; but as yet, though he had made many protestations of love, and vows of eternal constancy, he had not, in direct terms, proposed himself as a husband. SUBSTANCE ANfi SHAD6W. l7l husband. Elvvyn felt a strange repug- nance at the idea of being a married man ; he doated, passionately doated on Lauretta. The thoughts of beholding her the wife of another, would have dri- ven him to distraction ; his intentions were certainly serious, his views were ho- nourable, and the connexion would be advantageous. The morning when Lauretta quitted London, when she quitted it without his seeing her, when he thought she had purposely eluded his pursuit, that morn- ing he would unhesitatingly have made her his wife, to have secured her to himself; but now that she was within his reach, that he daily contemplated her charms, and basked in the sunshine of her smiles, he was contented to while away the sportive hours of present en- 1 2 joyment. 172 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. joymentj without eagerly pressing for an union, though it would make the fair Lauretta his for ever. The visit of Mrs. Elwyn was returned by the visiting part of the Lodge fa- mily, namely, the general, lady Lauretta and her daughter ; and from that day a brisk intercourse was maintained be- tween the two houses. Mr. Elwyn was very polite in his re- ception of the strangers; always an ad- mirer of beauty, he viewed the lovely Lauretta with evident marks of appro- bation : during the first interview, he ex- erted himself sufficiently to throw off some of his usual lethargic manner ; but this could not last; and the master of the Hall, and the mistress of the Lodge, were mutes in every party, except as to the functions of eating and drinking, and SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 17^ and then it must be allowed that they both sustained active parts. It was in vain that Mary Ellis tried to view Miss Montgomery and her lady- ship in a favourable light ; fain would she have joined in the encomiums which Mrs. Elwyn and Miss Lawson were never weary of lavishing upon them ; she frequently chid herself; she frequent- ly asked whether it was not pre- judice, caprice, or envy, which pre- vented her from distinguishing their ex- cellencies as clearly as other people, and perhaps she would unhesitatingly have given sentence against herself, if she had not referred (as she delighted to do on every occasion ) to the sentiments of her lost friend — *' Would she have approved the eccentric manners of lady Lauretta Montgomery ? — Who could doubt the 1. 3' tenderness^ 174 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. tenderness^ the affection of Mrs. Elvvyii for herself? — had it not equalled, if not exceeded, that of the most affectionate parent, and yet had she ever Javished ot\ her those empassioned, those romantic epithets, which, poured out as they were at all times, and in all companies, seem- ed to render their sincerity very doubt- ful ? — The studied, yet appareiithj careless attitudes of lady Lauretta too, the loose costume of her dress, were these in con- formity with her situation? with that of a dignified and virtuous widow? — Did the entire devotion of general Halifax (his neglect of his wife, his attention to her), did her sufferance of his atten^ tion render him a character which Mrs* Elwyn would have esteemed?" Mary could answer here undoiibtingly in the- negative. '* And Miss Montgomery,. could. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 175 could such an ambition for display, sucb an unbounded desire for admiration, such a taste for coquetry, such a familiarity \vith every man with whom she con- versed, such a contempt for domestic occupation, such an eager ear for flattery, would these have been thought in con- sonance with the rules of virtue, modes- ty, and retiredness, which Mrs. Elvvyn had been used to term the best acquisi- tions of a young female? here also Mary could answer by the same monosyllable ; and feeling as she did for Henry Elwyiv the most partial regard, admiring his vir- tues, while she saw and lamented his. faults (faults which had their origin in. the early indulgence of Mr. Elwyn, and which had been strengthened by the na- tural bias of his own disposition}, she grieved at the idea of his forming a con-- i4 176 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 3iexion, which had, in her estimation, little prospect of affording him perma* iient happiness. From frequently revolving on this, subject, and not having learnt the art of concealment, Mary Ellis, at each succeed- ing interview, grew more reserved and constrained in the presence of lady Lau- retta and Miss Montgomery ; the latter observed it ; and imagining that Mary was jealous of the attentions of Henry Elwyn towards her, she always contrived to engross them entirely when Mary was. present; more than once> the expression of Elwyn's countenance had given Lau- retta a momentary feel of uneasiness, for when she had uttered an equivocal expression, or given an unusual licence' to her gaite cle cmir, she had seen the in- stantaneous turn of his eye cast to- ward:* SUBSTANCET AND SHADOW. 177' wards Mary, as if to observe whether such sentiments and such sprightliness met with her approbation. To make that low-born girl an umpire of her conduct, was not to be borne; and Lau- retta, under the mask of levity and good- humour, had often contrived to make Mary appear in an awkward light before Henry Elwyn, while in his absence, a cutting expression, or a malicious sar- casm, taught our poor orphan to remem- ber the vast disparity between herself and the granddaughter of the earl of Le- vensdale ; yet, perhaps there was not much to boast of but the high-sounding; name in this alliance to nobility. In early life, lady Lauretta had formed a clandestine connexion with a young Scotchman, of the name of Montgome- ry. Her ladyship had a small independ- i5 ence;. ITS SUBSTANCE ANI> SHADOW. cnce; her husband not a shilling. The raaledictions of the earl pursued the young couple;, they embarked for India;. Montgomery got into a military capar- eity in that country, and died in a year or two previous to the appearance of his widow at Cheltenham. Lady Lauretta returned in the suite of general and Mrs. Halifax, and her impo- sing air and manner completely eclipsed her companion; and as we have seen,. lady Lauretta's camels, lady Lauretta's retinue, and lady Lauretta's jewels, had made a considerable noise, and had pre- ceded her to Cheltenham. With general Halifax lady Lauretta. had long been on the most intimate terms.; having a, lar^e fortune, he was. coming to enjoy it in England, and to or^vel in Asiatic splendour on British, shores^ SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 179^ Scores. Lady Lauretta's finances were- very limited ; her manner of living had been very extravagant ; her taste for ex- pence had been boundless ; and her dis- regard of every prudential maxim had' kept her husband poor, and she had been obliged for pecuniary assistance to ge-- neral Halifax : but on arriving in Eng- land, she found that a great change had taken place in her affairs; her father was dead, and, dying without male issue; the title was extinct. His anger at her disobedience had continued to his dying hour> and he had made a distant relative the sole heir of his property. A mai- den sister of lord Levcnsdale's, however, feeling a compassion for her grand-niece,. had bequeathed lady Lauretta an annuity, during the life of her daughter; but in the event of her ladyship's- surviving her 1 6 daughter. J80 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. daughter, this annuity was to drop off also to the heir of lord Levensdale. Montgomery's family had been low,, but he had risen to the rank of a colo- nel ; and the meanness of her father's; ©rigin was wholly forgotten by the fair Lauretta, who thought only of her mater- nal GRAND-father, the earl of Levensdale. Mary coiild almost laugh at the entire change which Miss Lawson's nixinner had undergone towards her; it was no lon- ger *^ dear Mary," and '^ interesting girl,'' but " child," and " Miss Ellis:" she was now^ frequently overlooked, while Miss Montgomery was appealed to on z\l occasions ; and even the flattery and obsequiousness of Miss Lawson appeared grateful to the ear of Lauretta. To Mrs. ^Llwyn, Miss Lawson was still ^^ most civil of the civil, for she would adopt SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 18 t her sentiments to all parties with whom it was her interest to accord : but the opinions of such an insignificant knoiv- nothmg girl as Mary Ellis, were not worth inquiring into; and Mary's would not have been very pleasing to her, could she have looked into her bosom, at the moment when she had detected the sly and mischievous n^anner in which she had joined Lauretta in ridiculing some silly remarks of Mrs. Elwyn's, and when her own encouragement had been the origin of its utterance. Miss Lawson was now a daily visitor at Salcombe Lodge ; she racked the whole vicinity for delicacies for Mrs. Halifax ; shs* admired the graceful atti- tudes of lady Lauretta, and diverted the attention of Mrs, Halifax when the ge- neral appeared to be admiring them also; and rSt SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. and she did not intrude with her usual' volubility on the tetes-d-tetexif Lauretta with Elwyn Mrs. Halifax said — ''She was a civil young woman enough," which was going much further than she usually did ; lady Lauretta languished out that " She had discernment;" and the general called " Lawson a kind, considerate crea- ture ;'* Lauretta said — "She was very- good-natured ;'* and Miss Letsom was silent, because she was never to think (much less speak) but when applied to. Elated with her intimacy, and the firm footing which she had established for herself in this " princely mansion," as she called the Lodge, Miss Lawson could scarcely tell whether she moved on her head or her heels, as she daily peram- bulated from the Lodge to the Hall, or the Hal! to the Lodge. The SUBSTANCE AND SHADOV/. ISS The Lumleys and Mrs. Buxton now seldom saw her, except when they met to play cards at the Hall; for though Mrs. Elwyn liked the family at Salcombe Lodge very mtvch indeed^ and thought them all very charming sensible people, yet she thought the Norton coterie very charming also, and enjoyed a rubber of ^vhist in an evening with them, and heart- ing their gossips, rather mors than the Eastern ease and the Eastern metaphors of lady Laurettr*, and the Italian airs and Italian graces of her daughter. Mrs, Elwyn felt grand 7xx\6. fine with one party, but snug and comfortaUe with the other; and however she might fancy that she liked grandeur and finery, yet the simple, Ellen Harley was only at home in com- mon life, and with the common amuse- ments of common minds. CHAP. 184' StTBSTANCE AND SHADOW. CHAP. VIII. Here nought but candour reigns, indulgent ease,. Good-natured lounging, saunteruig up and down. Thomson's Castle of Indolence.. Things continued in this situation some weeks, and no incident had occurred worth relating. The summer was rapidly passing by, and the weather was delight- fully pleasant. One evening Mary was returning from a walk which she had been taking to the Yillaire of Norton, in order to visit some poor pensioners of her late friend, who were still happy objects of lier attention, and whom she sedulously tried to prevent from feeling the extent of their loss; SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. ISl> at the entrance of the park she was over- taken by a gentleman on horseback, who was attended by a servant ; on passing Mary, he checked his horse, looked at her foran instant, and then said in atone of surprise — ^' If I am not greatly mis- taken, I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Montgomery r" Mary turned her co-untenance upon- him, a countenance which,, glowing witlv exercise, had never looked to more ad* vantage than at this moment, and an- swered — '^ Indeed, sir, you are greatly mistaken ; my name is not Montgomery." " Ten thousand pardons!" exclaimed the gentleman ; *' I never was more de- ceived. But now, madam, will you have the goodness to inform me if Harry £Iwyn is at home ?" Mary answered th^t he was at a house in 186 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW* in the vieinitv, but would be at homeiii- the evening : the stranger thanked her, and rode on ; and on her entering the house, she found him sitting with Mrs. Elwyn, and was by her introduced to him with — ** Miss Mary, this gentleman is an intimate friend of Mr. Henry's. This, you see, is Mr. Fitzallan: — you have heard of him often; and this, Mr. Fitz- allan, is Miss Mary — this is Miss Mary. Ellis, sir." Fitzallan bowed, and again asked par* don for his recent mistake. " It is evi- dent," said he, "that there must be a very great likeness, for I never saw Miss Montgomery but once, and had not the- remotest idea of her being in this neigh- bourhood ; but when I addressed you, I could have sworn that I was speaking to. that lady." « We SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 187 " We were never thought alike be- fore, I believe/' said Mary, blushing. " Never," said Mrs. Elwyn ; " but you see likenesses strike people differ- enlly; for my part, I don't see it; Miss Montgomery, sir, is a very beautiful young lady — very pretty — very so in- deed ; for that matter, ^Tiss Mary is xerif iv^l — yes, she is very xicll." " No matter, madam, I still retain my opinion ; the two ladies are certainly extremely alike as to height and figure ; that must be evident to every one; the eapression of the countenance may differ, and I think Miss Ellis is thinner than Miss. Montgomery ; but surely the features are very similar?'* " Well, sir, you will have it so I see," said Mrs. Elwyn ; '' we'll tell Mr. Henry about it when he comes home ; he will 188 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. laugh, I dare say — yes, we will tell him about it." Fitzallan had promised to pay Henry a visit, without specifying the time; and being at this period free from any engage- ment, he had not thought it necessary to apprize him of his intention. Henry Elwyn was rejoiced to see him; he had great pleasure in his conversation and society ; the pres^ence of Fitzallan seem- ed to infuse general life into the circle ; he was animated, cheerful, and well-in- formed, well-looking, and we]l-bre yet with so in- diflferent an air, as if she had said — ^' No matter whether I hear it or not/* Mrs. Elwyn, however, was of a con* trary opinion, for she very leisurely re- peated her speech verbatim, in a louder key. Lady Lauretta shrunk back, as if her nerves were quite wounded by the sound ; and Miss Letsom, perceiving that her ladyship's uneasiness, and the cause of it, were both observed by Mary, tried VOL. IIo K to 194 StJBSTANCE AND SHADOW. to engage her in conversation. The cir- cle was presently enlarged by the en- trance of the Lumleys and Mr. Munden ; while Miss Lawson was renewing her questions to these ladies concerning their broiling walk, Mr. Munden introduced himself to the party. He was a bachelor of some fortune in the neighbourhood ; a blunt man of fifty years of age, who assumed to him- self the privilege of saying what he liked, and living as he pleased ; and who fancied that nobody had a right to take umbrage at any thing he said, let him be as rude as he pleased ; he had some good qualities, but with so many particulari- ties, it cannot be supposed that he was a general favourite : he was very uncer- tain with regard to his habits; sometimes he visited frequently, sometimes he shut himself 'St^BSTA^'CE AND SHADOW. 195 himself up entirely ; if he saw any thing he disliked in any house where he visi- ted, he quitted it abruptly, and without giving any reason for his conduct ; he was very partial to the late Mrs, Elwyn, but after her death he had never called zt the Hall. There was an unoffending good-nature about Mr. Elwyn, which seemed to be- speak forbearance; and as he cordially, though silently, held out his hand to Mr. Munden, he checked the sarcastic com- pliment of congratulation which was about to issue from his lips ; and survey- ing his countenance, he said — " How in the world is it? — you are got much fat- ter, Elwyn ; yet, hang me if I think you look the better for it." Then entirely passing over Mrs. Elwyn, he came to Mary Ellis, and chucking her under the K 2 chin 196 Sl'BSTANCE AND SHADOW. chin — '' Why, child/' said he, " 7/ou are shrunk into a skeleton ?'' then pinching her cheek, he said — " Where is the rosy colour which I used to see here ?" The action and the inquiry were both calcu- lated to bring it back to its wonted sta- tion. Mary recollected when she had last seen Mr. Munden; tears were start- ing to her eyes; he moved off, and ad- dressing lady Lauretta, said — "Pray is not your ladyship afraid of losing the use of your limbs, by always keeping them up in this manner? Upon my con- science, 1 believe you lay in this very at- titude the last time I saw you, and that %s^as a fortnight ago." " And shall be there the next, in all human probability,'* said lady Lauretta, languidly; *' I have no energy, no elas- ticity left/' ''And SUBSTANCE AND SHADQW. 19T " And never will, if you do not exert yourself/* said Mr. Munden; " my life for it, if you would get up early of a niornin<^, walk a couple of miles before breakfast, and set yourself about some employment, you would soon look, move, and sity like a rational being." Lady Lauretta closed her eyes, to show her utter iliattention. "I am afraid the young gentlemen will make you wait, ma'am," said Mrs. Elwyn, applying herself to Mrs. Halifax^ auricular assistant. ^ *' What do you say ?*' asked the lady ; *' oh, I understand you now; the general and your son are together ; I did not comprehend you at first." " Mrs. Elwyn did not speak of 7/07/r young man, it seems, but of two who k3 are 198 S13ESTANCE AKD SHADOW. are coming from the Hall/' said Mr^ Munden, in a key which again threw aU the nerves of lady Lauretta into disorder, " Oh, I believe I had forgot; I think there is another besides, a Mr. Fitz— FitZ'Something, I am sure I forget what.'* *' Here comes the general, Fm sure/* said Miss Lawson, ** for I smell the otto of roses.'* " Arabian gales are not more sweet !"* jsaid lady Lauretta, in a low voice. The general entered, unfolding his newly-scented handkerchief of finest cambric. He paid his compliments to all his guests, in a most pleasing and Gourtier-like manner; just touched (or pretended to touch) the tip of his wife's finger, as he passed her, with an '' How are you, my love I" and then, not seeing a chair SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. 199 a chair near him, he carelessly threw himself on the arm of the sofa which supported lady Lauretta. " Order dinner to be served when it is ready," said Mrs. Halifax to Ivliss Let- so m. *' You forget our two beaux, my dear* est love," said the general. *' Do as you are bid, child/' said Mrs. Halifax, and Miss Letsom obeyed, *' Oh, the gentlemen will be here in a minute,'* said Miss Lawson. " I dare say they will, I dare say they will," said Mrs. Elwyn. Miss Montgomery was still sitting with^ her book in her hand, and her back to the open window, which was even with the ground; sometimes she adjusted a stray lock, sometimes her eyes fell on the book: at the moment when Mrs. Elvvyi^ jc 4 spoke^. ^00 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. jpoke, the eyes of another also fell on the book^ and these lines were audibly repeated :— " And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A nymph, a naiad, or a graice. Of finer form, or lovelier face !" The three lines were spoken with em- phasis, and distinctly heaixl;, before the " Oh ! Mr. Fitzallan, how could yoi¥ frighten me so ?'' by Miss Montgomery, was answered by die responsive screani of lady Lauretta, as she saw the start of her child. The truant beaux walked into the win-* dow, and followed Lauretta, who hasten- ing to her mother, cried — " My angel, beautiful mamma! say have I alarmed^ you ?*' " No, child of my heart ! best belo- ved of my soul ! for ' shouldst thou si^ St/BSTA^'CE AND SHADOW. 20 1' sit upon my head ana eyes, I shall re- joice, for thou art gentle*!" " Hang me though if I should rejoice at any such thing," said Mr. Munden. " E'en the slight harebell raised its hea.d Elastic from her airy tread," said Fitzallan. "Ah, that is all very well in poetry," said Mr. Munden, " because poetry is a fiction altogether." " And lady Lauretta Montgomery was speaking in blank verse, and that is poe- try too, you know, sir/* said Miss Lawson. " And poetry, they say^ madam, is prose run mad," said Munden. " Mamma generally speaks in blank verse,'* said Lauretta. " It suits the redundancy of her ima- * Bahar Danush. k5 gination,'*' fO:2 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. gination/*^ said the general^ in a low voice. '' Then, ma'^am/^ said Mr. Mtmden^ '' as I acknowledge myself to be a pror- sing old fellow, wiH you be so good when you address me, to try to speak in prose, and then perhaps I may have some chance of understanding you." *' Lord ! Mr. Munden/* said Miss Lumley, " I do believe you thought lady Lauretta asked you to sit upon her head.*' *^ Oh, by no means," said Munden; " but in general company, the conver- sation should, I think, be adapted to ge- neral comprehension ; I do not undei^ stand the tropes and figures of Eastern- metaphor, for my part.'' " But if you will have the goodness to loUow me," said the general, '^ I hope we- SUBSTANCE AND- SHADOW. 203-' rre shall see somethins; which we shall all of lis be able to understand ;*' and he took the hand of lady Lauretta to lead her to thedinrng-room. The guests followed in order; and, according to the established custom of the house, gene- ral Halifax took the head of the table, lady Lauretta gracing his right hand. Mrs. Halifax took her wonted station at the side; and Miss Letsom, quieJy occu- pied in carving for, and assisting the €o«ipany, filled the bottom seat. The dinner passed as dinners usually do; little conversation that could be so termed, much unmeaning politeness;, much apparent satisfaction, and much approbation of the good things, to which the lady of the house did as much ho- nour as any of the guests. Fitzallan and Henry Elwyn were placed,, one on K. & each ^d4 SUBSTANGE AND SHADOW. each side of Lauretta ; ihey shared her smiles between them; and she was almost, exclusively the object of their attention. It was in vain that Miss Lumley lounged herself into various attitudes, and tried to copy Miss Montgomery in every va- riation ; the clumsy heaviness of her form could not borrow the airv ffexi- bility of her model ; and what might charm in the one, could not fail of disr gusting in the other. Miss Lawson finding that she was not" doomed to be the first in req^iest with the^ beaux, adopted another plan, and endea- voured; to be the first in favour with the- belles.; she was most assiduously atten- tive to lady Lauretta, declared and vowed (upon her honour too) that "poor Mrs* Halifax ate nothing;" and as to her " djear Miss Montgomery, she looked so. wicked^. SUBSTANCE A>JD SHADOW. 205 Wicked, that there was positively no bear- fng of her." The Lumleys and Mary, even Mrs* Elwvn, were now excused from her at- tentions, and escaped her remarks, for they were insignificant beings in compa- rison of the tria at Salcoinbe Lodge ( Miss Letsoni, it seems, being left entirely out of the calculations of others, was not reckoned upon by Miss Lawson); now and then, indeed, valuing herself upon her superior knowledge, she would ask Mrs. Lumley if she ever saw such a dish as that before ? and whether she liked another? and once she reminded Miss Lumky, " that her long walk had made her look quite jaded.*' Glances of mortification and ill-con- cealed contempt were exchanged be- tween the mother and daughter, and they seemed ^OG SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. seemed as plainly to say, as words could have made it appear, *' Take care, Mis& Lawson, or perh^vps you may be cut out at our next whist-party/' Next to Miss Letsom, and at the bot- tom of the table, Mary Ellis tried to feel herself at ease, and to console herself, for the utter disregard of the rest of the companv, in her good-natured civility. The behaviour of this lady naturally excited her admiration, while she seemed too insignificant to be noticed by any in- dividual, except in the way of a question or command ; she saw that evert/ individual hada portion of her attention and civility ; and that the cblio^insness of her behaviour had nothing in it affected or overstrained, but seemed naturally to proceed from the goodness of her disposition. There was. no assumption in her manner ; there was. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 207 ■was nothing striking in her appearance ; she scarcely ventured on a remark ;, her answers were generally confined to ma- nosyllables; she obeyed the orders of Mrs. Halifax with prompt cheerfulness, and bore her peevish chidings with un- deviating patience. '' How would such conduct have been admired by my ever- lamented protectress!" thought Mary; *' how would she have applauded such an utter forgetfulness of self!" While mentally making this remark, her soft eyes were fixed on the countenance of Miss Letsom, as if she wci'ld discover whethei it was to fortitude or to insen- sibility, to servile dependence or to ge- nuine humility, that she was to imnute her behaviour; but the transient flush which illumined her care-worn counte- nance, as Mrs. Halifax said, in a discord- ant ^OS SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ant key — "Letsom, why, child, you mus^ be asleep, I think ; you know I never eat the part you have sent me/^ proved that her feelings werenotdead; andthesweet- ness with which she addressed herself to Mary, evinced that she was equally hum- ble to all, and that she could be obliging to those who were powerless as herseff, and from whom no return was to be ex- pected. Mary Ellis was prone to behold every human being in a favourable light; she felt a sympatl^y for Miss Letsom ; she fancied that there was a similarity in their situations, and she felt a kindred spark of emulation glow within her breast, as she hoped to conduct herself "with equal forbearance and propriety ; but, ah ! the truant heaj't, the truant eyes of Mary frequently wandered towards that part of the table where, in all the^ SliBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. 209 pride of conquest, Henry Elwyn sat, and where, in all the pride of conscious beauty, Lauretta listened to his conversation : in respect to herself, the utter disregard^ the almost contemptuous neglect of Miss Montgomery, did not give her the smal- lest uneasiness ; but was it not plain, that a woman who could act with insolence to her own sex, who could reserve her smiles and her agreeable qualities ex- clusively for the other, was it not plain that such a woman was not formed either with a mind or temper calculated for do- mestic happiness? But the sanguine^ the enthusiastic Henry, saw in her per- fection's self ; he basked in her smiles, he lived only in her presence; and it was not -in the power of Mary Ellis, it was scarce*- ly in heriiish to break the charm. When the Jadies returned to the draw- ing-roQn>^ 210 SUBSTANCE AND SriADOXT. ing-room, lady Lauretta resumed her usual situation ; Mrs. Halifax was assisted by Miss Letsom to her armed chair, where having had a pillow placed at her back, and taken two pinches of snuflT, she very leisurely composed herself for her after- noon's nap, saying — ''Pray, good peo- ple, entertain yourselves;*' and the good people endeavoured to do as they were bidden. Mrs. Ehvyn proposed a walk round the gardens; Lauretta affected not to hear; :ind Miss Lawson, choosing at this junc- ture to pay her court to her, affected also to be equally deaf. The Lumleys, however, did not think it decorous to be deaf to the proposition ; and Miss Letsom, looking at Mrs. Halifax, and seeing by her '' sealed eyelids,'* that she might be spared, offered her arm to Mary SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 211 Mary Ellis, and followed Mrs. Elwyn and the Lumleys. The door was scarcely closed, ere Lauretta said — " Who is that poor girl whom the Elwyns hawk about?" " Oh/' answered Miss Lawson, '' she is di 'protegee o^ the last Mrs. Elwyn's." '* And has she descended to the pre- sent, with the old clothes, and the bed- patches of her predecessor ?" Miss Lawson laughed and said — *' How wicked you are !" *'0h, not at all; but one is sick of seeing the various wardrobes, of hearing of the motlei/ patches, and looking at that stationary countenance, that im- moveable form '/* " I have heard Miss Ellis thought pret- tv,** said Miss Lawson. <' Pretty ? — impossible ! she has no action 212 SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. action — no manner — no grace; has she, my beautiful mamma ?" " Star of the east ! I have never let my eyes light on her countenance; thy presence so completely engrosses my whole of vision, that it hi« no vacancy for other objects/* '' My dearest, sweetest mamma !'* said Lauretta^, clasping her hands and kissing the forehead of lady Lauretta. " My angel girl \" whispered her lady- ship. *' What relation is this Mi^ Ellis to the Elwyns ?" asked Lauretta. '' Ellis/' repeated lady Lauretta, and she half raised her head from the sofa. *' Ellis is the name by which she is liTioun/' said the voluble Miss Lawson, glad to have interested lady Lauretta,, and SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 213 5ind delighted at being able to gratify the curiosity of her '' angel girl," even though she decorated the story with a few additions which had not truth for their basis. The story which Mrs. Elwyn told of her adopting a child, whose parents were drowned at sea during a storm at Brighton, was animadverted upon by the narrator^ and she put the question to her hearers, whether it was likely that Mrs. Elwyn would have consented to separate the tuin sisters, whether it was probable that another lady should have started up at the same moment to adopt the other, and that Mrs. Elwyn should never be able to discover her name, or to get any clue by which to trace her. — *' With Air. Elwyn," continued Miss Lawson, *' the story passed current; he had his reasons for 214 SOBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. for not minutely investigating at that period;, for then it was that he first in- troduced his son to the Hall ; we all know his story, poor man ; all the world have made their comments upon it; and while he has quietly borne the odium of that world, Mrs. Elwyn was cried up as a prodigy, extolled as an angel, and her adoption of this motherless child was ap- plauded as a sterling and disinterested act of charity — Had Mr. Elwyn's heart been readj I believe — but he was an easy, quiet mortal." " I dare say it was her oit^w child,'* said Lauretta. " Mrs. Ehvyn certainly repeated her visit to Brighton earlier than usual that summer, and staid later; altogether it was a most unaccountable history," said Miss Lawson. '' I was not at home when the SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 2 i 5 ihe infant was first introduced, but I con- fess, that I have always been one of the unbelievers, though at Norton, at that time, one should have been thought worse than an infidel to have doubted the story, or the kidn.npping of the other bantling. Mrs. Elwyn had bought her- self a name; but I am always inclined to judge from probabilities, rather than possibilities." Lady Lauretta smiled — '' Such an incident," said she, '' would have been more likely to have happened under the romantic influence of our eas- tern region, than in your colder cli- mate." " Certainly," said Miss Lawson ; '' your ladyship sees I am persuaded how entirely fabulous the whole story must have been. In order to wind up the catastrophe. ^16 SUBSTAKCE AND SHADOW, catastrophe, and to render the finale complete, these twin heroines ought to meet agnin — be recognised by one ano- ther as sisters." '^'And be twin stars of perfection !'* said Lauretta, with a laugh. '' What a brilliant, what a lively ima* gination you have got !" said Miss Law* ison. '' Have I ?" asked Lauretta, with an air of would-be innocent simplicity, which was meant to conceal the feelings of gratified vanity. "' At one time, and during the last Mrs. Elwyn's life, a match was talked of be- tween Mr. Henry Elwyn and Mary Ellis." " That zvould have been ridiculous enough," said Lauretta, biting her lips. *• I confess 1 did not then think itpro- bahle, SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. ^17 hahle, for Harry Elvvyn ought to have looked higher — now — " and the retreat^ ing eyes of Lauretta conveyed the im- plication better than Miss Lawson could ljav€ done it by concluding the sentence. TOL. 11, X. CHAP, ^18 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW* CHAP. IX. ** For still ray heart regards thy weal, Warmly, as it was wont to do." In the mean time, Mary Ellis and Miss Letsom had got very sociable ; Mary found Miss Letsom very sensible, well informed, and well behaved; but the natural diffidence of her manner had been so encreased by her situation, that time was required to develop her charac- ter ; and it was in retirement, and in pri- vate conversation like the present, that she was best seen and best known. The virtues and the graces of our Ma- ry, too, like those of her companion, blossomed SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 2 1 9 blossomed in the shade; she had talents for conversation^ but it was conversation where she could be free from restraint, 'where she felt assured that the sentiments which she uttered would be received with forbearance and consideration ; she felt chilled and silenced by the harsh manner of Mrs. Halifax, by the rude nonclialance of Lauretta ; but her heart expanded it-* self with modest warmth to meet the en- couraging kindness of Miss Letsom. It was seldom that Mary fiad passed so plea- sant an hour; but while pleased in each other's society, they neither of them for- jjot the attention due to Mrs. Elwvn, or to the Lumleys. Freed from the shackles of a circle to which she was unaccustomed^ Mrs. Elwyn frisked about the gardens like a child escaped fron\ school; she admired every l2 thing S20 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. thihg shesaw^, "declared that Miss Mont- gomery was a most lovely, beautiful creature! very so indeed;*' asked each of the ladies over and over again, whe- ther they did not think so too? and more than hinted that her partiality for Mr. Henry was very apparent. Mrs. Lumley found herself necessitated to agTee with Mrs. Elwyn, yet silently wondered at Mr. Henrrj's taste, as she looked with the partiality of a motlier at the bold unmeaning stare of her tall daughter's prominent eyes ; and Miss was mentally vozving that she had been a great fool, to expose herself to such a scorch- ing walk, to sit in buckram, to be entirely overlooked by the men, and to finish with such a stupid saunter round the garden. She felt that she had forcibly realized the words of the preacher; *^nd that the day SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 221 tlay which had dawned in vanity, was likely to close in vexation of spirit. Miss Letsom looked apprehensively at her watch two or three times during the last quarter of an hour; she knew the probable duration of Mrs. Halifax's nap, and that s/ie should be in instant requi- sition on her first opening her eyes ; that lady was in the act of doing so when they entered the room, and said, in an hurried tone — *' Now, Letsom, you may ring; I am ready for my coffee." *' We have had. a pleasant walk, ma'am, very so indeed," said Mrs. Elwyn, ap- plying her voice to the ear of Mrs. Hali- fax ; but she had not the art (though she had the wish) of rendering it intel- lio:ible to that ladv. " Yes, yes," answered she, '' I have had a pleasant nap enough ;_ I suspect you L 3 bav» !^22 SURSTAKCE AND SHADOW. have been doing the same; its very na- tural; after making a good dinner^ it re- freshes one almost as much as a pinch of snuff/' leisurely applying her finger arid thumb to the snuff-box. — '' Come, Let- som, make haste with the coffee, child.** Tea and coffee were both brought ; and while the room was lighting up with almost innumerable lights, Mary gently slid to the tea-table, and assisted Miss letsom. Breaking from Miss Lawson^ witlx whom, till this moment, she had been deeply engaged. Miss Montgomery walk- ed to her harp, and leaning over it, she seemed to be invoking the spirit of bar-* mony. Lights were placed on each side of the instrument, and she appeared as if going to strike the trembling strings, when the door opened, and the gentle- mea SITBSTANCfi AND SlIADO'W. S^^ men entered. Lauretta's back was to- wards it, and it did not suit the ropf tenor of her soul to look with " vulgar ken " to see who entered. With slow and hea- vy step, came Mr. Elwyn ; he placed himself near the tea-table ; then enter* ed Mr. Munden ; he was followed by the others. Mr. Munden stole towards Miss Montgomery, and placing one of his hands on each of her shoulders, he said — '* I did not know^ that you were ac- quainted with this instrument/' Lau- retta started, and frowningly turned round, as if she was not used to so rough a salute. Mr. Munden started also, as he said — " Ton honour, madam, I ask your pardon ; I wouldn't have alarmed you for all the world, for we all were wit- nesses of your nervousness (as they call it) this morning; but I declare to you, l4 that ^g4 SUBSTANCE AN1> SHADOW. Ihat I took you for that silent little girTj, that I now see is snugly sitting at the corner of the tea-table." Lauretta half turned away, a great deal more discon- certed at the mistake than the apology ; a contemptuous silence was all the no- tice she took of his -speech. '' Whew, whfew!" said Mr. Munden, *' hang me if 1 do not think there is a great likeness between those two young ones — what say you, ma'am ?" turning to Mrs. Elwyn* " I have heard the remark made be- fore,, sir," said Mrs. Elwyn ; " Mr. Fitz- allan remarked it." *' Oh then it seems it i^ quite an old story/' said Lauretta, colouring. *' How perfectly ridiculous!" said Miss Lawson, in a whisper, and addres- sing herself to Lauretta. " Come, were you not going to wilch us with your charming StmSTANCT ANO STTADOW. 2^5 charming melody ? — perfection's self!*' for taking the cue from lady Lauretta, and having grown into considerable im- portance with herself, during her confi- jdential commiinicatron in the afternoon. Miss Lawson now thought it incumbent upon her to be orientally rhapsodic whea addressing herself to Lauretta. " It appears there may be tivin stars of perfection," said Lauretta, sarcasti- cally, and almost pointingly. " You know I made that remark before. And sa you thought Twe like Miss — Miss — /forget her name — I always do forget her name,'' cantinued Lauretta, addressing Fitzallan, and applying, as if to be helped out in she name by Miss Lawson. " Ellis/' said Miss Lawson* ♦' Ellis— aye, so it is." " Ellis," repeated Mrs. Elwyn, ^* yoa I. ^ see. 226 SITBSTANCB A"ND SHADOW, see, is something like Elwyn, but not quite ; both syllables are not the same, but both names begin with an E and an L." " Yes, I certainly thought there was a likeness when I first had the pleasure of seeing Miss Eilis," answered Fitzallan. Henry Elwyn was tired of the discus- sion ; he did not wish it to be continued : he saw that it did not please Lauretta, that it confused Mary Ellis (though he had leaned on the back of her chair as if to screen her from observation ), and that if pursued, his mother would still further expose herself; so hastily walking towards the harp, he said, addressing himself to Lauretta — " Why tantalize us with assuming this attitude I we are all ear." " Say rather all et/Cy* said Lauretta^^ with cutting severity, and colouring as she SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, 227 she darted an angry glance towards the chair where sat Mary Ellis, and where Elwyn had been leaning while he sipped his cofTee. This little trait of feminine jealousy %vas calculated to gratify the vanity of such a man as Elwyn ; his sober judg- ment might have condemned it, but his judgment was not sober; he seized the fair hand of Lauretta, and pressed it to his lips, as he asked her — " Why she was so cruel?'* He placed the music-book before her, and was opening to a fa- vourite song ; half playfully, half fret- fully, she resisted his entreaties. In the scuffle, one of the wax-lights fell on the lap of Lauretta; her dress of lightest, finest muslin, was in flames ! she uttered a piercing scream, and flew towards the sofa with the rapidity of lightning; with L 6 almost 528 StrBSTANCE AND SHAOOW. almost equal rapidity she was followed by Henry and by Mary, but not till the screamings of lady Lauretta were added to those of her daughter; and the fiames^ were communicated from Lauretta's dress to the recumbent drapery of her lady- ship. Elwyn eagerly tried to extinguish them by wrapping the skirts of hisjcoat yound Lauretta, while Mary, with great presence of mind, snatching up a shawl of camel's hair, folded it round the wri- thing form of her mother. All was con- fusion, harry, and apprehension. Mrs* Halifax kept crying out— "What are you all about there ? are you determi^ Bed to bumdowa thehQuae; I'm fright- ened- out of my senses." The general not attending to hk lady^ eagerly crowded round her guests; the tames. were happily extinguished; and>. mars' SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 22^ more frightened than hurt, lady Lauretta \vas conveyed to her apartment by the general and Fitzallan. Lauretta was following her '' dear angel mamma/' and still screaming from unappeased ter- ror as she leant on the arm of Maryland was about to receive the eagerly-proffer* ed assistance of Henry on the other side, when Mary perceiving that his hand was scorched, instantaneously relinquished the care of Lauretta, as she caught his arm, and cried out — *' Henry, dear Hen- ry, zxeyou not hurt ?*' The sudden inquiry, the earnest, vet tender tone in which it was made, the natural action v^hich had accompanied it, spoke volumes to the heart of Elwvn ; he saw for one moment onlij Mary Ellis ; he remembered only Mary Ellis, the gen- tle companion of his early days; he an- swered tSd StrBSTANCTB AKO SUA HOW* ^wered — " No, Mary, dearest Mary, it h nothing — a mere trifle — do not alarm yourself." Overpowered bv the sudden revulsfon of her feelings, overpowered by her exertions, overpowered by the kind ad- dress of Henry, abashed and confused at having had so many witnesses of her behaviour, Mary was only recalled to herself by the lengthened screams of Lauretta ; again she offered her arm, but she now found herself superseded by Miss Lawson ; and Fitzallan having re-enter- ed, had usurped the place which Elwyn would have taken. *' You are a very good girl,'* said Mr» Munden, tapping the cheek of Mary ; *' you see the advantage of a little strength of mind and self-possession — » screaming and inaction are equally fu^tile; is SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 23 1 it is promptitude and decision which can alone be effective^ in a situation like that which has recently occurred — You had a good instructress, my girl.** '' I had the hest, sir/* whispered Marif, while tears rushed to her eyes. Mr. Elwyn, roused to some appear- ance of animation in the idea of Henry having met with an hurt, insisted on having the coach ordered immediately, and on his taking a seat in it; Mrs. El- wyn was of his opinion, but said — '' She did not know what to say about Miss Lawson, who was a civil obliging lady jis could be na^t with." Henry begged he might be allowed to walk home, assuring his father that he had received no material hurt; but he was overruled; and Mrs Elwyn said, that — '' If he was to go out in the evening air. S35 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW* air, he would most likely get an inflairr- mation to his hand, a mortification must then certainly ensue, and perhaps it mi^ghf not stop there." '^ Mrs. Lumley remarked that it was a beautiful evening, and may be now Miss Lawson woukl have no dislike to a walk> as there was no fear of a broil. During the ride home^ Henry Elwyn- was unusually silent and thoughtful, yet he answered the inquiries which were made to him from time to time concern- ing his hand, with the utmost good-na^ ture. Initiated in the arts of healing by her beloved friend, Mary was followed by Elvvyn into her own littleapartment, and there, while attended by Mrs. Elwyn, who declared, that '' it made her shudder to look at it/' she made use of those ap- plications SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW* 23v? plications which had been found bene- ficial in such cases, and, with gentle cau- tion, bound up his scorched hand ; while admiring her readiness, her activity, and her humanity, Elwyn looked at her with eyes of speaking admiration, and thank- ed her with all the warmth of gratitude. Under the care of Mary, her patient soon mended ; by her advice, he wore his hand in a sling; and this gave him an additional interest in the eyes of the fair Lauretta, especially when she reflected that his hurt was acquired in her service. CHAP, 234; SUBSTANCE ANI> SHADOW'; CHAP. X. **■ But near thee I can never stay. My heart would soon again be there I"" The story of the fire had really beerr blazed abroad ; Mary Ellis's natural emo- tion on seeing that her earliest friend had been hurt, was almost construed into a declaration af love. Miss Lawsan^ who was not deficient in discernment, had easily perceived that under the affec- tation of considering her as an insigni- ficant low-born girl^, Miss Montgomery literally beheld and feared Mary Ellis as a formidable rival ; she had seen with- what avidity the story of her mysterioua origia -SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. S3 5 origin was received by this young lady, and that it had even the power of partly raising lady Lauretta from her recumbent attitude, who had almost given it her attention. To make herself pleasing to those la- dies, who were now greater in her esti- mation than those atElwyn Hall, was the first wish of Miss Lawson ; she had no- thing to alledge against her *' dear Mary/' her lately '' sweet Mary Ellis/' only that there was a certain coldness and reserve in her manners, which totally precluded her from imagining that she was beheld with the same reciprocity of sentiment as that she had affected to feel for her; and only that let her "sweet Mary" owe her origin to whom she would, decidedly she could not boast of an earl for her grandfather 23 6 SITBSTANCE ANI> SHADOPT. grandfather — of a lady Lauretta for her '''beautiful mamma!'* To such frivolous motives^ the wish of gaining the favour of the Montgomerys^ and desire of being reckoned of import- ance by them, must we trace the eager- ness with which Miss Lawson recounted all that she had heard, and all that she had surmised relative to Mary Ellis. When she had once felt her ground, she could proceed with security ; the likeness be- tween Lauretta and Mary, which certainly i;nust be striking, as it had been generally remarked, was not received with satisfac- tion either by the mother or daughter; and Miss Lawson knew (from frequent and agonizing experience) that the burning of her gown was nothiiig in comparison to the burnings of envy and jealousy. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 2S7 Jcaiousy, as she assisted in supporting the lovely form of *^ her charming Lauretta" to her apartment. Without directly makin^: a confession of her wounded feelings, Lauretta co- vertly acknowledged all that Miss Lawson understood by implication ; and the *' affected heroism and self-command of Mary Ellis " was ridiculed ; '* lier for- ward declaration of tender interest for Elwyn/' was as loudly contemned, '' an interest which a«y worrian of true deli- <:acy would have been careful how she 'displayed, eveii far her hushanci, much less for one whose whole thoughts and hopes were centered in another." Lauretta sighed ; perhaps her sigh was a doubting one ; at length she ventured to say — " I wonder if the Elwyns — the old "§38 sObstance and shadow. old folks I mean — I wonder if they sec the fondness of this girl for Elwyn," " Mr. Elwyn^you know, is^ poorman^ next to a muscle, my dear Miss Mont- gomery, in regard to every thing but the mere animal functions of eating and drinking.'* *' And Mrs. Elwyn^ having low vulgar notions herself/* interposed Lauretta, '' may possibly '* *"■ Oh no ! she could not possibly ap- prove such a connexion for J\Ir. Henri/; if she has not seen the girl's striking partiality t/et, she shall see it ; I shall think it my dut2/ to inform her, knowing, as I do — that is, believing — that is, sus- pecting that the late Mrs. Elwyn's orphan —you understand me — I really think, my dearest Miss Montgomery, star of the east, as StJESTANCE AND SHADOW. 23 § ©s the dear lady Lauretta sublimely calls you, I really think I ought in conscience to tell Mrs. Elwyn, that she may caution, that she may guard Miss Ellis against the sad prospect of an unrequited passion, for that #very v«ish of Henry Elwyn's^ heart is centered in the fair Lauretta." '' Do you lliink so?'* asked Lauretta, with an air meant to be incredulous. *' Nay, dearest Miss Montgomery, I could swear it !'* Havingnow sufficient subject matter for animadversion, with the consciousness that the further she proceeded the firmer she rivetted her intimacy with the Montgo- merys. Miss Lawson prevailed on the whole village of Norton to believe that Miss Ellis was dying for love of Mr. Henry Elwyn (for though a young lady may look, {Qt]^ and talk, as if in redun- dant 240 StJBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. dant health, yet she is always accused of being dt/ing for love, as soon as she is sus»» pected of a partiality for one of the other sex). It was some time before Miss Lawson couid make Mrs. Elwyn understand that there ^vas any thing to be afraid of in the cure which Miss Ellis was performing on the scorched hand of Henry Elwyn ; liints^ inuendoes, and surmises, were scarcely understood by that good lady; though rather against her prescribed mode in such cases, Miss Lawson was obliged to be more explanatory, as she perceived that Mrs. Elwyn grew harder of comprehension; she perceived too, that the " interesting Lauretta'* was full of doubts and fears, although she con- cealed them from every eye but hers ; and that Henry Elwyn was not so unde- viating tUlBSTANGB AND SHADOW. ^41 \aating in his attendance at the Lodge a» before the accident, and, in fact, that she- should *' really be only doing hep-duty^ in putting poor Mrs. Elwyn en her guard ;'* so with this most conscientious and friendly raotive, she went to the Hall,- and pretending once more to be deeply «nga<^ed in the disposition of patches-, she began her most anxious and friendly inquiries after Mr. Henry Elwyn, and- *^ wished that in having one hurt cured, he mi^ht not get another." At a loss to understand the meaninsj of this wish. Miss Lawson was reduced' to an explanation : she said, that — ' " Where a partiality was so very appa- rent on one side,and where such frequent opportunities were afforded of display- ing it, a return was in the nature of things to be expected ; and to be sure, VOL. ir. M Mr, 212 SruSTANCE AND SHADOW, Mr. Henry Elwyn was so very obliging to every body, and so very insinuating in his manners, that anij woman with a little vanity," (here she looked rather consciously, and fixed her eyes on a patch) ''and not absolutely hideous in her person,** (here she glanced her eyes towards the glass which stood between the piers) " any woman," continued she, " with a lUtle vanity, might easily Taney herself the object of his particu- lar regard : for mi/ part, I declare I never sa^v any thing in his behaviour to- wards Miss Ellis which he may not have used towards me— bnt we are all apt to think and believe Avhat we hope; and if the mysteriousness of her birth was set aside, and he really should come to like her " *' No, no," said Mrs. Elwyn, rising from Str'feStAKCE A'ND SlIADOtV. 245 "fVom her seat, and in her hurry letting her scissars fall off her lap on the floor> " no, no, Miss Lawson, Mr. Henry Elwyn itiiist look a good deal higher ; he must look a great deal higher. Miss Lawson,'* and she tossed her head with an air of consequence. " Miss Mary is very well in her way, very well in her way — poor thing, she can help nothing at all of it; but Mr. Elwyn, but my son, I assure you. Miss Lawson, he has only to choose or refuse.** " So I say, my dear ma'am/' returned Miss Lawson, '^ that is exactly what I say ; why there is Mr. Henry Elwyn, said I, the most elegant and handsome young Aian in this part of the world " " Or in a//^ part of the world/' inter- posed his mother ; for the vanity which had once superseded every other idea in t^e contemplation of her oiv?i personal M 2 charmSj 21^ SUBST A ^XE AND SHADOW, . charmSj hcid now devolved to her son? and to have his beauty praised was at once her pride and her delight. '' Now is it likely/' continued Miss Lawson, '' that such 2l man will throw himself av;ay in such an unheard-of. manner, especially when there are those who are his equals in every respect — allied to quality ?" '' Ah, I gtjess who you mean," said Mrs. Elwyn; ^' leave me alone for a guess— and I dare say it will be a match — I think it will. Miss Lawson." *' And as to poor Mary," said Miss. Lawson, '* she must wear ihe willow." *' Indeed she is a very conformable well-behaved young girl," said Mrs. El- wyn, '' I can't say but what she is — and so you say she is in love with Mr. Henry }'* '' Oh, ma'am^ for mercy's sake don't say SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 945 say it — don't breathe a hirtt of the kind, I only said that it was observed, that it was remarked, that it was partly suspected, that her evident interest the other night at Salcombe Lodge, when she imagined that Mr. Henry Elwyn was burnt — oh, for my own part, I think Mary Ellis a sweetly-interesting girl; and if the last Mrs. Elwvn had told the truth at first, and not put her on the world in such a * questionable shape " •' I don't at all wonder at her being partial to Mr. Henry, he is a very nice young man/' said Mrs. Elwyn ; " but, iiowever, that will never be. Miss Law- eon. " My dearest madam, I know it ; I only thought that where opportunities of being together so frequent, and where- •the tenderness on one side is so appa- M 3 rent,^ S46 StiBSTANCE AND SHADO^^% rent, gratitude, feeling, sympathy, mighc induce — you understand me, I dare say you understand me ?*' " Oh, perfectly,'' said Mrs. Elvvyn ; " but I'm sure Mr. JEIwyn would not ap*- prove of it, any more than myself — ho\v> ever, it shall be my care-—" " Ah, there it is; my dear Mrs. Elvvyn, I do not presume to dictate to you — 1> know our sentiments are geaeraljy ia unison — I knov; that apposition m suck cases is generally productive of con- trary effects to those which are wished-; and if Mr. Henry Elwyn. was to be told that you disliked the idea of such a con^ nexion. Heaven knows but he might, for the first time, think of it." ''Oh, I shall not say a syllable aboujt it ; I know he has a partiality elsewhere,'* sodding significantly :. " as to poor Miss Mary,. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 247" Mary, she is not at all to be blamed; you know if she loves him, she cannot help it ; but I will be watchful and care- ful. Miss Lawson, and act with prudence; I always act with prudence, you see — you see the care of a young woman is 3- great charge; if I can help it,, she shall have no opportunity of being alone with him ; for the future, I must attend to the doctoring of the hand — I am sure I have enough to do,, what with one thing and the other ; but I do not mind it — I don't mind having my hands full of business — I like to be doing ; there's these patches, I need not sew one of them, if I had not got a mind, for I have maids enough that can work for me, and I might sit up with my hands before me all day long, if I liked it; but I'm very active and observing. Miss Lawson, very S^4S StJBSTAKCK AISID SHADOW. SO indeed. To be sure, after all that you have told me about Miss Mary's being the child of the last Mrs. Elvvyn— — " *' Oh, my dear madam, pardon me there, I did not tell you ; give me leave- to set you right; I only said, merely by way of a hint;, that it had been suggested by such ajid sucb persons, that the circum- stance of a certain person's going to Brighton at those periods, feoked rather mysterious^ and that it led to a supposi* tion of such a^id such events kiving ta- ken place.'* *' And I dare say they did too," said Mrs. Elwyn ; '' not-withstanding that li have heard so much of that certain per- son's goodness and virtue, you see I found out who you meant." *' Your quickness of comprehension, l^as often struck irje witli astonishment, a? SUBSTA^'CE Axn SHADOW. S49 ^ as I wassa}ing but this very morning to dear lady Lauretta, and my charming and amiable young friend her daughter; iiever shall I forget the sweetly penetra- ting look which the dear Lauretta gave me when she asked ' whether I had seen Mr. Henry Elwyn ?" Miss Lawsoh returned to Salcombe Lodge, better pleased with ihe success of her visit than she had herself expect- ed to have been ; for as notwithstanding Mrs. Elwyn's quickness of comprehen- sion, she had no method of making her comprehend but by speaking out (as it is called), and as in this said speaking out there was great danger of comrait- 4ing herself, if she was not speaking irutlij she had some few difificulties in her way, which she contrived to smooth over, as we have partly seen, by calling ^ m5 back !&50 SUBSTANCE AKD SHADOW. back her words, and amending lier evir dence. Miss Lawson, as we have had ocr casion previously to observe,. /iac?discernr ment ; she saw that the impetuous nature and proud spirit of Henry Elwyn would take fire at the slightest imputation which should be attached to the character of Mary Ellis, whom he regardied with a Jraternal affection, if it could not b© called by a tenderer name;, she saw too that his spirit would instantly resist itself against the interference of maternal aur thority, or even of maternal advice, with regard to his choice of a. wife ; and Miss Lawson wai? heartily glad to have her communications finally sealed, with a promise of silence and secrecy, but at the same t\vs\e,o^ strict observation on th$ behaviour of the parties. Xq tbose who are unacquainted with such SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 251 s^ich characters as Miss Lawson, her taking so much trouble to so little pur- pose may appear very much exaggerated and very unnatural; but where there is an inordinate desire of raising our own consequence,. and of gaining the favour of those who move in a superior station, no pains are sparged for the accomplish- ment; and^ in the present case, there was an additional motive, in the modest charms and unobtrusive virtues of Mary Ellis. To have seen these raised to the situation which th^y merited, would have been to see all the envious and rebel- lious passions roused in the breast of Miss Lawson. She could see Mr. Henry Elwyn married to Lauretta Montgomery, because she had a right to expect as good, if not a better connexion ; but ta see him lift a low-born orphan to his M 6 OWQ : ^'52' SUESTANGE AND SHADOW. own sphere, and to be left in the distance^ herself, such a contemplation was insup- portable. Mrs. Elwyn had promised that she^ would be silent on the subject of Miss Lawson*s conversation to the parties con- cerned ; she kept her word ; but in this poor lady's character there was so little delicacy, and so little depth, that her suspicions were open to the most casual observers; she followed Mary EM is about %vhenever Henry Elwyn was in the house; ^he sedulously attended when Mary was using her applications to his hand ; and. then her excuses v/ere so shallow, and^ her real motives so obvious, that poor Mary trembled with confusion and mor- lification at her. coarse remarks; while Elwyn, though hurt at his mother*3 inu- gi^does^ could scarcely help feeling some- degres' ST7BSTANC-E AND SHADOW. 25^ degree of satisfaction (such is the innate "vanity of that lordlv creature man) in attributing the embarrassment of the modest girl to the cause which his mother had more than hinted. There was a sensitive timidity about Mary Ellis,, which rendered her peculi- arly susceptible of painful emotions; with regard to Henr}^ Elwyn^ she would have acknowledged her affection for him to the whole world; her most sanguine ivishes were breathed for his happiness^ and these wishes were entirely disinte- rested ; but to be suspected of an at- tachment for hi»n, which was to assume the name of love — to be suspected of nourishing an unrequited passion, this wounded her delicacy — this hurt her maidenly reserve — this probed her to the q^uick, and this made her appear the- verv 254" SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. very thing she would not be ; for tho\ig^ she had a strong mind, and an excellenJ: iinderstandin-g, she was so open and in- genuous in all her actions^ and in the expression of her sentiments, so truly feminine and so truly modest, that she could not help feeling much martifica-*- tion in finding herself a particular ob-^ ject of observation ; and on such an account to disclaim it, would be almost to acknowledge it, as she had never heard Mrs. Elwyn give it utterance; but ta be followed about, be looked at wherer ever she came, to observe the sly whisper of Mrs, Elwyn, and the more sly wink of Miss Lawson, to see the latter lady place herself J with an air of sedulous caution, in the seat next Henry Elwyn, all this was most mortifying and humi- liating,; and the suspicions of thoss arounii SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW, S53 :rrcnirrd her were converted into certain- ties, when they perceived the evidenJ: confusion with, which she answered the most common address of Henny Elwyn^ a more painful situation, independent of any serious disJress^ can scarcely be imagined, especially when we add that she had more than once caught the pity- ing glance of Henry Elwyn as he had observed her emotion, and that she had met the animating scrutiny of Fitzallan's eye. Publicity was soon given to Miss Lawson's report; Elwyn was joked on the subject of his conquests; and thougk he disclaimed them, with the gay air "which a young man of his stamp well knows how to assume, yet in his heart hjc felt flattered and gratified. Fitzallan had not been an unobserving spectator of ail that was going on-; and returning^ ^56 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. returning with Henry from one of their walks to Salcombe Lodge, he jokingly said — ''For pity's sake, tell me, Elvvyn^ 'what are you going to do with these girls ?'* " What girls ?'' asked Henry. " Why that frivolous evasion of my qwestiori ?** said Fitzallan ; '' you know that I mean Lauretta Montgomery and Mary Ellis^ — you know that they both love you, and you know not v^hich to choose." " Then vou tell me what I do nop linow myself," answered Henry, laugh- ingly. " This Mary Ellis is a sweet girl,'' said Fitzallan, '^ and spite of what I once said concerning a fortunate foundling, I think the man would be forUmate who €CuM make that foundling his; a man wo.uMi SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 257 would have nothing to fear in uniting himself to such a woman ; there is a steadiness about her which disarms cen- sure ; there is a gentleness which disarms anger; there is a softness which attracts affection.'* *' She is a good givl," said Henry^ %vith warmth, "an excellent girl! she was educated by the first of women, and her conduct is the best commentary on the character of her protectress; she would ensure the hrppiness of her hus^ Vand/' *' And why not ensure that of my friend V asked Fitzallan. '^ And can you ask ? — -you who have jieen — who have heard — who have listen- ed to the svren Lauretta r" ''Harry Elwyn/' said Fitzallan, ''spite ^f my rattle and my raillery, believe mc 258 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. me when I tell you, that I have a serious, regard for you ; the question now seems to be whether you will choose a woman who will be your solace, your compa- nion, your friend, your consoler, or one who will be your pride, your pleasure^ your ambition ? There is something dazzling, radiant, and imposing, in the elegant form, in the manner, in the grace of Lauretta: there is something mild; modest, placid, almost heavenly, in- Mary Ellis/* '' I never thought of Mary Ellis as a wife; I love her with sincerity; I would do any thing to promote her happiness ; but consider, Fitzallan (and th-e proudly rebellious blood glowed in his cheek as he spoke), consider her low origin — con- sider the obscurity of her birth." *' That is of very litJle consequence-3 except. SUBSTANCE AND- SHADOW. 559 except in the eyes of the world/* re- turned Fitzallan, " and such a woman would be all the world to yo4.i.'* " While such a woman as Lauretta Montgomery would be able to give her husband eclat in tlie eyes of the whole world.'* " \\\, my friend, I see which way you bear — I see which side the scale turns ; but beware, Elwyn, beware lest you bai'* tcr the Substance for the Shadow''' " I have no inteiuion of marrying at all," said Elwyn. " Then you are acting very wrong — ungenerously by Mary Ellis, as every day you stay near her may encrease her partia- lity (though, if I judge hei? rightly, she has strength of mind and resolution to bear her up against the tenderness of her tieart ; cmelljj are you acting by VAzi Montgomery, 200 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOtf. Montgomery^ for she thinks you have serious intentions — her mother thinks so too. Can you resolve to reFrnquish Lau- retta ?" Elwyn paused a moment, then laying his hand on his heart with emotion— '' No/' said he, " I cannot resolve to da that/' " However you may decide, my dear fellow/' said Fitzallan, with warmth, " you have my sincere wishes for your happiness. I sm aboitt to quit you to- morrow ,• when next we meet* »» ** Aye, \vhen next we meet, my fate may be decided/' said Elwyn, The lively pleasantry and sensible re- marks of Mr. Fitzallan, had forcibly im- pelled the esteem of the family at the Hall. Mrs. Elwyn thanked him for his *' very good company, and hoped he would SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 261 X-^ould soon repeat his visit ;" Mr. Elwyn shook him cordially by the hand ; and. Mary held out hers with unaffected free- dom as she bade him adieu ; he pressed it with fervour, and hurried away, fol* lowed bv the "ood wishes of his friend, who, to disisipate the ennui which was occasioned by the separaiion, hurried to Salcombe Lodge. Lauretta was alone, all softness, all smiles ; Fitznillan was not there to share them with him, they were exclusively his own ; securely seated in her heart, he feared no rival, he dreaded no alteration in h^r sentiments, tilj she mentioned her mother's intention of quit- ting the Lodge the following day, and trying the air of Malvern. '' The gene- ral kindly attends us there, and after-. Tvards w€ shall probably proceed alone ; but ^H SlTSSTANCfi AND SHADOW. but to ivJiat place we shall bend out course, is yet uncertain." The intelligence was received as Lau- retta expected it would have been ; El- wyn besought, entreated to be the " cowpagnon ciu voi/age." Malvern was a public place ; Lauretta could not deny the request ; general Halifax w^as quite pleased at the nrrange- iftent ; lady Lauretta said — ''The pre^ sence of EI wyn would a give charm to the party, which it otherwise would have wanted;" and the pleased and gratified Elwy.i hasted to the Hall to make prepa- rations for the journey. The next morning he took a respect- ful leave of his father, and a good-hu- moured one of his mother; but as he approached Mary, with '' Well, my little . doc tress. SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 2&3 ^octres. Heaven bless and preserve you !*' s^n iindefinahle emotion agitated his frame; like electricity beseemed to com- municate it to Marv. The colour fled from her cheek — her lips quivered — her hand trembled as it felt the pressure of bis lips. Henry left the house ; Mary retired to her apartment — she gave way to her feelings — she burst into tears. A fear- ful presentiment filled her bosom; she seemed to be forsaken by her only friend, to be once again an isolated and forlorn orphan. She anticipated trials and suiferings for herself; she did not anticipate felicittj for Harry Elwyn — *' Impetuous, headstrong, self-willed,*' cried she, " his passions suffered to master his reason and his judgment, how likely S6t StTBSTAKCE AND SHADOW. likely is he tv? make shipwreck of his hnp- piness for ever ! — Forbid it. Heaven !-— forbid — preserve— and bless him V* risD OS" voi . J.u Prinf€:d by Lane, Darling, & Co. Leacienhall-Street, L.;ndon. ■m^ UNIVERSITYOFILLINOIS-URBANA ^^"^ 3 0112 053911878 S^A K.