& E® * . \ ! OF THL UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS 823 B93* v. I 1 GERALDINE FAUCONBERG, BY MISS BURNEY, AUTHOR OF CLARENTINE, TRAITS OF NATURE^ SfC. SECOND EDITION. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. A spirit that with noble pride, When injured or offended never tried Its dignity by vengeance to maintain, But by magnanimous disdain. LYTTS.ETOI LONDON: PRINTED FOR HENRY COLBURN, FNGLISH AND FOREIGN PUBLIC LIBRARY, CONDUIT STREET, HANOVER SQUARE, 1812. Prauid by Ox and Baylis, Great Queen Sucet* Lincoln'*- Jnn-i'jcJds. $Z3 To Mrs. ***#*****, Madam, more highly finished than his drawings usually are, and designed with an ease and freedom truly masterly. The miniature of Geraldine, like herself, is ini- mitably delicate ; the colouring is glowing, and yet natural : and the outline, I believe, might bear the strictest examination. Fer- dinand appeared delighted with it, and Ge- raldine was no less struck with his drawing. I was enchanted that accident had thus made each acquainted with a talent in the other, of which they are mutually so well qualified to judge. We dined an hour earlier than usual, my mother and Madame de St. Hermine wish- ing to take an evening drive to N , our nearest town, on some shopping business. Caroline chose to accompany them, but Geraldine and I declined being of the party \ and as soon as they were gone, ordering a table and garden-chairs to be placed for us 67 in the shade, on the banks of the river, we went and took possession of our rural seats, with our books and w r ork. The "weather was delicious; our minds were calm and happy ; every thing around us looked se- renely beautiful ; and never in my life, I think, did I more completely and gratefully enjoy the consciousness of existence. Fearless of dew or of cold, we watched, in almost total silence, the gradual advance of the shades of evening, the rise of the moon, and the general diffusion of that sort of mistiness which spreads itself through the air at the close of a glowing summer-day. At length Geraldine, who had for some time been employed in making memoran- dums in her tablets, broke silence, and, in a voice soft and soothing as the scene we were contemplating, recited the following SONNET : Thy sober light, O Evening! let me hail, Catch thy soft sadness, and thy calm repose ; At thy approach let mourners cease to wail, And on thy bosom hush their throbbing woes. 68 Thy balmy power has oft been felt by those Who, thro* the day, were troubled or oppressed *. From grief and toil the haggard bondman owes To thee his dear-bought, temporary rest. The happj^ bless the advances of the morn, Expecting pleasures they but seldom find ; But thou, mild Evening ! art to the forlorn A precious harbinger of peace of mind : Who seeks not joys to thee will be a friend, And with thy stillness his own sorrows blend. Scarcely had she concluded the last line of this little pensive effusion, when we heard, at no great distance, the voices of the gentlemen, and presently were joined by them. They drew a bench near us and sat down, Mr. Archer saying, as he took his place, " This is an hour and a scene to awaken poetical ideas -, have they produced no such effect upon either of you, my fair friends?" Geraldine pressed my hand to engage me not to betray her, and Mr. Archer, looking up, presently added, " Who amongst- our English poets has 09 succeeded best in describing the beauties of a clear, mild, and tranquil evening like the present?" " It has been a favourite subject," an- swered Lesmore, " with so many writers, that it were hard to decide by which it has been most successfully treated. None, how- ever, who have expressly chosen, not merely incidentally introduced it, has been more universally admired than the enthusiastic and animated Collins." " His Ode to Evening," said Mr. Archer, " I know, is much celebrated and approved ; but, I confess, it is so long since I read it, that I scarcely retain any recollection of its peculiar beauties. When we return to the house we will look at it." " O no," cried I, " the house would spoil it. This is the moment, and this the spot, to hear it to advantage ; and Gerakline can repeat it." " Well, then," said Mr. Archer, " let us have it." . Geraldine, thus called upon, summoned 70 all her courage, and, after a short pause, begun : " If ought of oaten stop, or pastoral song," &c. Mr, Archer was extremely pleased, not only with the poem, but with her ready compliance; he particularly approved the twelve concluding lines ; praised her intelli- gent and unaffected mode of delivery, and exhorted her never to neglect the cultiva- tion of so correct and enviable a memory. After this, the conversation turned upon the subject of modern poetry in general -> and some of our party could not forbear animadverting, rather severely, upon the frippery taste, the rage for epithets, the unmeaning and insipid sentimentality that has abounded in many hot-pressed recent productions, embellished with elegant en- gravings. " We laughed in former days," said Mr. Archer, " at the plausible galimatias of the well-known love song, " Fluttering spread thy purple pinions, "Gentle Cupid!" &c. 71 but it seems to me as if the same sort of nonsense was now written in sober sadness, and gravely mistaken for refinement and delicacy." w I scarcely know any poet of modern date," said Lesmore, " whose productions have afforded me more genuine pleasure than Burns. Many of his compositions are extremely melancholy, and some are even tinctured with bitterness and' asperity ; but they are so original, the feeling they ex- press is so wholly divested of affectation, such indications of a warm and generous heart, such manly strength of thought, and, from time to time, such vivid flashes of genius break forth, that he not only excites, but rivets our attention, and insensibly awakens for himself our most partial interest and regard." " You speak enthusiastically, my dear Lesmore." " I speak with the admiration I always experience when I take up a volume of his poems." " I must make myself better acquainted 72 with this favourite bard of yours. Gerald- ine, have you got his works in your little library?" ■ " Yes, my dear uncle.' ' " And are you as zealous an advocate for him as Lesmore ?" She professed exactly the same senti- ments, and specified some of the poems which she most admired. This led to a re- quest from Ferdinand, that, if she could re- member, she would recite one of them. After a moment's consideration, she se- lected and repeated the stanzas entitled, from their plaintive burthen, " Man was made to mourn." I wish, my dear Augusta, you could have shared in the pleasing though melancholy sensations with which we heard her. So grateful to the ear was the well-regulated tone of her voice ; so impressive the lines themselves, and so affecting, yet so natural, the expression with which she uttered them, that as I listened to her, as I surveyed her light and graceful form, and saw her fine eyes cast upwards, and glittering in the 73 moon -beams " with undropt tears," I thought it impossible to behold a more in- teresting representative of beauty, inno- cence, and sensibility. I know not how Ferdinand looked, for his face was overshadowed by the boughs of a luxuriant shrub growing near him; but I have reason to believe he was pe- netrated and softened, for when she ceased, he expressively said — ■ " To hear, in such a scene, poetry I so much love, repeated in such accents, is greater luxury than I ever experienced !" Geraldine hastily turned her head, as if to convince herself that words so flattering: indeed proceeded from the lips of my bro- ther! I myself almost doubted whether I had heard aright, till Davenant, with a laugh, cried out, " Why, Lesmore, we shall have you turn- ing soneteer, for the mere pleasure of hear- ing Miss Fauconberg rehearse your effu- sions !" " Are you sure," said I, that Miss Fau- yOL. L E 74 conberg would think them worth commit- ting to memory ?" " I don't know how that might be with regard to her ; but I. have heard other la- dies repeat Lesmore's verses/' " Indeed! and who were those ladies ?" inquired I, little dreaming of the indiscre- tion I was leading poor Davenant to com- mit. " Why, all last season, at Brighton, Mrs. Neville was singing airs to which he had composed words ; and even recited in com- pany, short poems of his, which he had ad- dressed to her." " Pooh, pooh !" cried I, " they were none of his own composition, I dare say." And then rising, to put an end to the conversa- tion, I asked Geraldine to go back with me to the house. A few moments after we had entered the drawing-room, the three ladies returned from N , and nothing more was said of Mrs. Neville that night. But this morning, an old maiden lady, 75 Mrs. Sibylla Milbanke, who lives about four miles from hence, and pays a formal half-yearly visit at Highgrove Park, about Michaelmas and Lady-day, called, and obliged Geraldine and myself, who were very busy in the dressing-room, to go down and receive her. We soon found that she had brought with her a budget of news, which she was eager to impart ; for scarcely had we been five minutes in the room, before she thus, in a little cracked nasal voice, begun — " Well, Miss Fauconberg, I hear -you are soon to have a mighty gay neighbour atWesthill. I give you joy; for her house, I am told, will be the resort of every thing that is fashionable in the county — I am speaking of the brilliant widow Neville : you know her, I think, Miss Lesmore ?" " I never was introduced to her, ma- dam." " Well, but, at least, your brother knows her !" added she, with a facetious nod, " I had a friend last year at Brighton, who wrote me word" 76 u My brother, madam," interrupted I (Ferdinand was not present during this not- able conversation), " has been acquainted with Lord M , Mrs. Neville's relation and particular friend, several years ; and you probably heard she was in the house with his lordship, the whole time she staid at Brighton." " Very true, very true, my dear. But as I was telling you, this dashing widow is to take possession of her new house next week; and I have been assured that no- thing can exceed the elegance with which she is fitting it up. She had a large for- tune when she married, most of which was settled upon herself ; and now, having no little ones, I suppose she finds that, with- out inconvenience, she can gratify her taste for magnificence. I am mighty curious to see the house, I must own : for I am in- formed she has had every thing down new from London, upon the most fashionable Parisian models. In all the best apart- ments, the curtains and hangings are silk, Hchly fringed." — 77 In short, for I tire of writing her minute gossip, from curtains she proceeded to chairs, tables, beds, sofas, carpets, and spared us no iota of detail respecting. any one article of ornament or furniture through- out the house ; the diiferent colours of the silk hangings, the size, height, and breadth of the mirrors ; the form of the chimney clocks, and the pattern of the bell ropes ! We listened with due complacency; and, at the expiration of three quarters of an hour, which she might boast to have spent by no means idly, she rung for her little rhubarb-coloured chariot, and ambled away. When Geraldine and I were once more established in the dressing-room, she said, " I shall like very much to be acquainted with this Mrs. Neville when she comes to Westhill. I am curious to see the sort of woman Mr. Lesmore admires." " My dear Geraldine," said I, " you are not aware how common a thing it is at all sea-bathing, or public places, to set up some fashionable woman as a temporary idol, a rallying point, round which all the 78 idle young men of ton flutter and flirt for the season, and then never think of again." She confessed her ignorance of such sub- jects, and began talking of something else. We are going to be very gay. Two in- vitations have arrived to-day, both of which are accepted : one is to a dinner at Mr. and Mrs. Everley's; the other to a splendid ball, given by a baronet in this neighbour- hood, Sir James Charlebury, in honour of our late public successes. The ladies are all to be dressed in uniform, with emblem- atical ornaments allusive to the occasion. My mother, Geraldine, and I, have already written up to town for our paraphernalia. Madame de St. • Hermine and Caroline, though included in the invitation, have de- clined it. The latter, indeed, will be gone from hence before the ball takes place. Geraldine calculates that her miniature of the little boy will be in such a state of for- wardness by Monday as not to require any more sittings. Ferdinand finished his draw- ing of him this morning. On Tuesday, therefore, I fear we shall lose my sister, 79 who is impatient to rejoin the rest of her little family. We have just heard that the Everleys are amongst the company invited to Sir James's fete ; and I should not be at all surprised if my mother was to consign Geraldine and me to their care for the evening. She seems half to repent having accepted the invita- tion ; talks of the distance, the bad roads, the late hour at which we shall return > and gives me a strong suspicion, that before to- morrow she will write to countermand all the things ordered from town. Good night, my dear Augusta. 80 LETTER Vlll. TO THE SAME. Aw gust 31st. If Lesmore does not, at last, do justice to the merits of our inestimable Geraldine, let us all disown any connexion with him ! A few days ago, Mr. Archer, having heard some of out party express a wish to practice shooting with bows and arrows, had a target put up near the house, and every morning since, Davenant, Geraldine, and I, have gone out as soon as breakfast was over, and spent near an hour in trying our skill with these new playthings. Yesterday when we sallied forth as usual on this wise errand, my brother chose to ac- company us, and take part in the amuse- ment. Madame de St. Hermine and Mr. Archer likewise attended us, and stood as spectators and umpires of our dexterity. Ferdinand proved to be an admirable marks- 8.1 man, and shamed even our original instruct- or, Davenant ; who once, I know not by what misconduct or mismanagement, shot his arrow so completely out of its intended direction, that it as nearly as possible struck against my brother's shoulder, as he stood on one side, talking with Madame de St. Hermine. Geraldine, who either saw it coming, or guessed from Davenant* s awk- ward manner of holding it, what was likely to happen, precipitately drew Ferdinand back, and saved him the pain of a pretty severe bruise. At first, unconscious of her motive for making such a seizure, he looked at her with amazement; but on hearing the business explained, his surprise gave way to feelings of obligation, and he thanked her in the most animated terms. She laughed at his gratitude; disclaimed the least title to it, and declared she hardly knew who it was she drew away, but, at the moment, acted entirely from a mecha- nical impulse. I do not think Lesmore much liked this interpretation of her con- duct. It appeared to me as if he had rather E5 have been allowed to suppose he owed his escape to her vigilant anxiety for his pre- servation. All these saucy men are prodi- giously disposed to imagine themselves of great consequence ± and very apt to be affronted and sullen when they find them- selves mistaken. The next person who was to take aim happened unfortunately to be me. At the moment I was pulling the string of the bow, poor little Charles, perfectly unsuspicious of the danger he was incurring, came sud- denly from behind some trees, and seeing Ferdinand, ran towards him across the ground that was between me and the tar- get, and, before any body could save him, was thrown down by the force with which the blunt, but rapid and heavy arrow, struck against his arm ! Oh, Augusta ! had any one, at that mo- ment, taken the same weapon and aimed it against me, I believe I should have been thankful. Unconsciously, I was flying to- wards the house, without aim or project* when Geraldine, preserving that admirable 83 presence of mind with which she is so pe- culiarly blessed, called me back, and be- sought me not to carry the alarm within doors, and terrify Mrs. Davenant and my mother with any sudden information of what had happened. Then seating herself on the ground, and gently raising and sup- porting the little sufferer, she asked Ma- dame de St. Hermine whether it would not be right immediately to cut open the sleeve of his nankeen dress ? w Yes, certainly/' " Then," resumed she, " whilst I do that, let somebody go for our apothecary ; he is very skilful as a surgeon, and may be here in less than half an hour." Davenant, on hearing this, said he would ride and fetch him himself. Madame de St. Hermine directed him which road to take, and he instantly left us to run towards the stables. Meanwhile, Geraldine, having borrowed a knife, was opening, with a light but steady hand, the sleeve of Charles's coat. Ferdi- nand knelt by her, and held the child's arm, 84 who, aware of their intended kindness, made no resistance, but, on the contrary, appeared grateful for their care. The mea- sure our young friend had suggested, proved the wisest that could have been pursued; for, in a very short time, the little tender limb swelled so considerably, that it would have been equally difficult and painful to have attempted getting it released. When this first relief was effected, Lesmore took him in his arms, and carried him to the nursery. Scarcely had the infant hero shed a tear from the moment he received the hurt: but encouraged by his uncle's commendations of his manliness and spirit, and fearful of grieving his kind attendant, Miss Fauconberg, he repressed all com- plaints, and displayed the most extraordi- nary self-command. Madame de St. Hermine now besought Geraldme to take upon herself the task of announcing the accident to Caroline, and went in person to my mother to execute the same unthankful office. Shocked, humbled, and dejected, I was 85 leaving them, to bend my melancholy steps towards the nursery, when Geraldine, de- taining me a moment, and affectionately embracing me, said : " My dearest Julia, reproach not your- self for an accident so wholly unintentional. No lasting ill effects will result from it, I am persuaded ; and you will grieve us all if you suffer your kind heart to be thus dis- tressed." Ferdinand, who had by this time rejoined us, united with her in endeavouring to con- sole me j and then, whilst Geraldine went up to my sister, returned again to the nur- sery with me. The child was lying upon his bed, and, to judge by the flush in his .cheeks, seemed to be in great pain : but forbore all mur- murs, and even looked up at us with a faint smile. . His arm, however, was frightfully discoloured, and the swelling seemed in- creased. My apprehensions exceeded all bounds ! I besought the housekeeper, who now entered the room, to prepare some ap- plication for the part -, to attempt, at least, 86 giving him some relief; and when Caroline appeared, so guilty and so fearful did I feel, that, unable to look at her, I sunk upon my knees by the bed-side, and buried my face in the quilt. Her voice, addressing me in accents of kindness, first gave me courage to raise my head ; I transferred it from the bed to her lap, and there, pressing her two hands between mine, as she sat by her boy's pillow, I wept like a child. Ferdinand was concerned to behold my useless sorrow, and endeavoured to draw me out of the room : but I refused to leave it till the surgeon ar- rived, and he desisted from the attempt. After an interval that appeared to me, that appeared to us all, of incalculable du- ration, the medical man was at length an- nounced. His report gave unexpected com- fort to the whole family. He ordered what he thought necessary, recommended us to keep the child quiet for the rest of the day, and, promising to call again in the evening, went away, leaving me in a state of com- parative blessedness. The thanks and praises that were bestow- 87 ed upon Geraldine for her rational yet act- ive services, were innumerable. She shrunk from them with blushes, and the most unaf- fected modesty ; and, except from Madame de St. Hermine, whose judicious commen- dations, never lavished upon trifles, always appear to exalt her in her own eyes, showed a sincere wish to escape hearing any thing more upon the subject. How infinitely to the credit is it of both pupil and instructress, that she who has the oftenest and the most freely expressed blame, should likewise be the person from whose lips praise is the most gratifying ! Geraldine often says, that the slightest tes- timony of approbation from Madame de St. Hermine, gives her more heart-felt content than would the most elaborate professions of admiration from any other lips. " 1 am so confident," she added, " of her scrupu- lous sincerity, that she is to me like a se- cond conscience ; and till I know her opi- nion of any action, I scarcely dare trust to my own. Others, without her frankness; 88 might have only her affection and benevo- lence." In the evening, poor Charles showed symptoms of amendment. Some one of the family sat watching by him the whole day : even Lesmore was very frequently in his room, and evinced an anxiety concerning him, that did him great honour in the ten- der mother's eyes. To-day, I am truly re- joiced to add, our dear little patient is won- derfully better -, and I have now reason to flatter myself my dreadful clumsiness will produce no future mischief. If the progress of his recovery keeps pace with our hopes, we all dine to-morrow at Mrs. Everley's. I promised you some fur- ther account of that lady. Have patience, Augusta; in due time I will honourably fulfil my engagement : perhaps, to-morrow morning. Meanwhile, adieu. 89 LETTER IX. MISS LESMORF— IN CONTINUATION. September 1st. TlIEY are reading a dry, dull book in the library; Geraldine is busy practising in. her dressing-room ; the gentlemen are out shooting, and I am come up to com- municate to you the little history of Mrs. Everley. It was related to me by Madame de St. Hermine, who, probably, learnt it from the lips of its fair heroine. Though young, handsome, and formed by her manners and conversation to be the ornament and delight of society, Mrs. Ever- ley, during the early period of her marriage, was almost totally debarred from holding intercourse even with the nearest of her neighbours. Her husband, considerably older than herself, and accustomed to in- dulge in recluse and sedentary habits, ad- 90 mitted no visitors into his house but men of his own age, his long- tried and intimate friends. To these, Mrs. Everley started no objection; on the contrary, her mind was sufficiently cultivated to enable her at times to derive infinite entertainment from the various subjects of their conversation, how- ever serious they might be : but there were other moments, when, recollecting the gay and animated scenes she had witnessed and borne a part in whilst under her father's roof, her spirits failed her, and she sighed to think she had renounced for ever amusements and society so congenial to her character and time of life, for the gravity, the rigid exclu- sion of all novelty, and the clock-work preci- sion of her present home. The daughter of a respectable country gentleman, who was possessed of a sufficient income to bring up a large family with ease and elegance, she had never, till her marriage, experienced a lonely or melancholy hour. Surrounded by brothers and sisters, all affectionately at- tached to her and to each other ; cherished by parents whose happiness was wrapt up 91 in that of their children; loved for her temper, and admired for her accomplish- ments, she was not only regarded by others as one of the most enviable favourites of nature and fortune, but felt a grateful con- sciousness herself of the blessings she pos- sessed. From this state of rare but true domestic felicity, she was first withdrawn by the in- fluence Mr. Everley obtained over her. At the time he first became known to her, he was by no means, in regard to external ap- pearance, an ineligible pretender to her fa- vour. His person and deportment were completely those of a gentleman -, his coun- tenance denoted understanding ; and, with the advantages of fine teeth and good eyes, he was not wholly undeserving the denomi- nation of handsome. In addition to this, , his intellectual endowments were so highly superior to those of the generality of men she had conversed with, that the attention with which, at a very early period of their acquaintance, he distinguished her, no less flattered her vanity, than the apparent 92 equanimity of his temper, and benevolence of his disposition, interested her heart. She prided herself upon the reputation for sense and discernment, which a choice, proclaim- ing such maturity of judgement, would se- cure to her; and fancied, that in becoming the wife of a scholar, a man whose charac- ter as a connoisseur in literature, and a pa- tron of learning, stood so high, she entitled herself to some share in the honours that were paid to him. Actuated by motives such as these, she sanctioned Mr. Everley's application to her father, before it was suspected by a single individual of her family, that the assiduities of which she had been the object, had made any serious impression upon her mind. How to discountenance such a proposal, appeared difficult; yet father, mother, all who were of an age to give an opinion upon the affair, felt a repugnance to con- senting to so disproportioned a match, which not any of its advantages in respect to pecuniary considerations, could, in their eyes, obviate or counterbalance. The fated 93 bride, however, appeared irrevocably de- termined to abide by her sapient choice : the but too probable regrets to which she was condemning herself, were represented to her in vain; opposition, for the first time in her life, had the effect of rendering her invincibly self-willed : and though at first her acquiescence had resulted from a foolish idea of acquiring consequence by such a union, parental admonitions soon gave to her motives a colouring of romance, and she, at last, very seriously imagined herself impelled to the deed, by a passion as ardent and unconquerable, as it was, the object considered, laudable and rational. The marriage consequently was, in the end, acceded to ; and from that moment to the hour of its celebration, showers of odes, sonnets, lyrical and pastoral compositions, poured from the fertile pen of the inspired lover, and were, by turns, addressed to his fascinated fair one, to her mother, her five sisters, her canary bird, her gold fishes, and her dutch pug. These little productions, insipid as their subjects frequently were, 94 possessed, notwithstanding, the merit of being coined with facility and taste : they enraptured the young bride-elect; and the well-chosen nuptial presents with which they were generally accompanied, still more enraptured her less poetically-enthusiastic sisters. The marriage-ceremony over, Mrs. Ever- ley and her newly-wedded lord set out im- mediately for the usual' residence of the latter in this countv. The regret with which her friends saw her depart, was ag- gravated by the ill-boding silence observed by Mr. Everley upon the subject of the fu- ture intercourse of the two families. He invited none of her relations to visit him, nor even dropped the slightest hint of any intention speedily to bring her to see them. This omission, however, his bride, affec- tionately attached as she was to her natural friends, scarcely seemed to remark. In Mr. Everley, she imagined herself secure of a companion, who would amply compensate to her for every other privation : he was to address Parnassus talk to her, all day long ; 95 to open to her mind the stores of knowledge with which his own was so richly fraught ; to make of her a philosopher, a botanist, an astronomer, a mathematician, and a chemist ; to clear to her, by patient defini- tion, all the mysteries of science ; to stimu- late her by encouragement, and to reward her by tenderness. These flattering but illusive expectations retained their hold a few weeks, and then gradually, but for ever, vanished ! Mr. Everley, long "accustomed to a solitary mode of learned occupation, found himself, in a short time, most wofully incommoded by the association to which his blooming partner aspired. She was indefatigably at- tentive, had ready powers of comprehen- sion, and showed the most exemplary do- cility ; but, compared to him, she was as ignorant as an infant. To abandon, there- fore, all his favourite pursuits, in order, by slow degrees, to impart the very rudiments of knowledge to one totally unacquainted even with the common terms of art; a stranger to every language but her own and 96 the French; a grammarian more by ear than principle ; a calculator instructed only in the first four rules of arithmetic — to wade through the drudgery of communi- cating learned ideas to one so unprovided with every species of fundamental informa- tion, appeared to him a task no less weari- some than unprofitable. He married her, to obtain, in his hours of leisure, a gentle, good-humoured, enlivening companion ; one who could, when he felt inclined to unbend his mind from severer studies, participate with him in the pleasures to be derived from works of imagination ; from historical or moral compositions ; or from the lighter effusions of his own fancy : but to find, or to make of her a Madame Dacier, would have surpassed at once his expectation and his wishes. ! The discovery of these discouraging sen- timents in her undissembling help-mate, speedily terminated all Mrs. Everley's high- soaring flights into the regions of science : and scarcely knowing whether to be glad or sorry, that for the close application, and 97 laborious efforts she had so heroically plan- ned, no call would ever be made, she had recourse once again to her former more humble occupations — her drawing, her em- broidery, and her piano-forte ; varying these employments, as inclination prompted, by visits to the green-house, rambles through her husband's grounds, walks to the neigh- bouring cottages, and occasional examina- tions of the contents of the library. Here, however, scarcely more than one book out of twenty met her sight, the language^ or the subject of which she could understand. This was somewhat a melancholy circum- stance; and as winter came on, and she found herself debarred from her accustomed walks, and confined wholly to her own or her husband's equally silent fire-side, the deprivation became almost intolerable. Mr. Everley, wrapped in a long dressing-gown, and seated at a writing-table, his feet in slippers, " his hose ungartered," his mind abstracted, and his conversation restricted to a few brief sentences, such as — " Pray, my dear, snuff the candles ;" or, " Pray, VOL. I. F 98 my dear, stir the fire/* was no object either to enliven her spirits or amuse her fancy. Of the poet, the man of genius, and the communicative scholar she had so much admired, nothing now appeared but his former facility in making verses. These, as occasions offered, were poured upon her with as great profusion as ever: she ac- cepted them graciously ; read them once ; thought some of them pretty ; threw them down, and, without reflection or remorse, lighted her taper with the first that hap- pened afterwards to fall in her way. From this depressing state of vegetation she was rescued by the friendly interference of our excellent Mr. Archer. He saw her at her own house, doing the honours of her table to a party of gentlemen ; looking half- animated, appearing crushed beneath a weight of gloom and ennui-, no relation near her; no acquaintance in the county; — in short, conveying to him by her de- jected but mild aspect, the idea of a cap- tive bird pining for its native groves, its early companions, and its lost liberty. 99 He proposed, not to her, but to her hus- band, making her acquainted with his niece; and, construing that gentleman's silent bow into a free assent, he delayed -no further than till the next morning carrying Geraldine to pay them her first visit. He speedily after directed his young ward to write to the poor prisoner, and ask her to dinner ; rode over in person with the note to Oakley Lodge, delivered it into Mr. Everley's own hands, and accompanied it with a cordial invitation to himself. His frank and friendly solicitations were not to be resisted. The long-secluded couple came; they experienced the most flattering reception; were introduced to Madame de St. Hermine ; courted and at- tended to with the highest good-breeding ; and from that time to the present moment (a period of above twelve months) have lived upon the most intimate footing with every inhabitant of Highgrove Park. Mr. Ever- ley has inspired Geraldine with a taste for botany ; given her some knowledge of fos- sils and minerals ; he addresses verses to her 100 perpetually -, he admires and loves her ; and, to her solicitation, there is scarcely any thing he would deny. He permits her to introduce his wife to whom she pleases ; allows her to arrange with Mrs. Everley the parties he is to have at his own house ; and has even half promised to spend two months in town next spring. What a blessed me- tamorphosis is this for his poor wife. She feels no jealousy of the influence Geraldine has acquired, but manifests for her on all occasions the affection of a sister. Madame de St. Hermine encourages their intimacy, and stands extremely high herself in Mr. Everley' s good graces. Adieu — I must hasten to dress for dinner. Charles continues recovering. Yours ever, Julia Lesmore. 101 LETTER X. TO THE SAME. . Sept. 2. O UR visit yesterday, my dear Augusta, was remarkably pleasant. Mr. Everley is throwing aside, as fast as he can, all his old batchelor habits and disagreeable whims. His wife is restored to all her natural cheer- fulness ; and they now appear a perfectly contented couple. Their house is beautifully situated, and the grounds are richly wooded in almost every direction $ but such cumbersome, un- wieldy, and antiquated furniture as the apartments are disfigured with, I never saw in any other place. Mrs. Everley' s dressing- room is the only part of the house that con- tains a chair fit for a woman to lift. Yet even that retreat is rendered gloomy and dark by high casement windows, oversha- dowed with huge trees growing so close to 102 them that neither light nor air can pene- trate through their thick branches. In this very room, however, we saw an object with which we were singularly delighted — a portrait of Mrs. Everley's eldest brother, Colonel Courtville, painted by one of our ablest artists when the colonel was only a youth of fifteen or sixteen. He is repre- sented in a Spanish habit, and wearing the becoming hat and feather peculiar to that nation. Mrs. Everley has but lately ob- tained possession of this treasure, and va- lues it most highly; for, independent of the resemblance it possibly bears to her brother, such a painting is to be prized for its own intrinsic merit. The features, ex- pression, attitude of the head, all are ex- quisite. I will not say that the counte- nance looks very wise; but few perfectly regular faces do : at all events, it denotes great sweetness and good- nature. I told Geraldine she ought to paint a miniature from it, and Mrs. Everley has promised to lend it to her for that purpose whenever she chooses to send for it. 103 A great deal of conversation passed dur- ing dinner and afterwards upon the subject of Sir James Charleburg's approaching ball. My mother asked Mr. and Mrs. Everley whether they did not both intend to go ? " Let Mrs. Everley/* replied he, " answer for herself. There," looking at Geraldine, " sits the person who must decide the mat- ter for me. Do I go, Miss Fauconberg, or not?" " Why, I rather think not," answered she, laughing -> " you would not dance, I am afraid, and therefore you may as well stay at home and plan a poetical descrip- tion of the fete." " Thank you for this reprieve ! I have been in hourly dread of your award upon this subject ever since the invitation ar- rived." " You must admit me, I believe," said my mother, *' to participate in your poeti- cal lucubrations that evening ; for I have, to the full, as great a horror of the thoughts of this ball as yourself." " Cannot the young ladies go under the 104 protection of Mrs. Everley and the gentle- men of your party ?" " Perfectly well," cried Mr. Archer, rt Lesmore and I both mean to attend them." " And however unsuitable a partner/' in- terrupted Ferdinand, " I may be for one of the ladies, yet, I hope the other," direct- ing his eyes towards Geraldine, " will do me the honour of considering herself as en- gaged to me." Geraldine looked a little surprised, but bowed her assent; and it was agreed that we should call for Mrs. Everley^ whose house is in the direct road to Sir James's, and place ourselves under her care for the night. The ball is on Wednesday. Magnificent preparations are making for it ; the whole county is invited, and the highest expecta- tions are entertained by every body. Ge- raldine is in great spirits upon the occasion. She has yet never been to any thing so splendid as it is supposed this will prove. I have been practising all my best steps; 105 mean to dance a great deal, and be very much admired ! Caroline leaves us on Tuesday. Her boy runs and plays about again as usual — and, besides, the journey will be very easy; Davenant's house being, as you may recol- lect, only thirty miles from this place. She and I have agreed, that as your good man is the only franking convenience in our fa- mily, I shall continue to address most of my letters to you. Those that you think worth her seeing, you are to forward to Caroline as soon as you have read them. Geraldine has completely finished her picture of Charles, procured for it a case, and delivered it to his mother, who is en- chanted with the gift and the giver. You must not expect to hear from me again till the ball is over. Farewel, my dear sister. J. L. F5 106 LETTER XI. MISS LESMOKE TO MRS. LUMLEY. Sept. 6'. Oh this odious ball ! How I hate to think of it ! Nothing did it bring to me but chagrin and regret. Poor Geraldine ! Hear what a disappointment I was the occasion of her suffering, and then judge what plea- sure I could myself enjoy during any part of the evening. Our dancing-dresses, which we expected from town on Tuesday night, or, at latest, early the next morning, were not arrived when we sat down yesterday to dinner. We looked very blank at this delay, I must own; for we had neither of us any equip- ment, which, as to colour, suited the de- scription of the uniform we were expected to wear, nor any ornaments appropriate to the occasion. We were to call for Mrs. 107 Everley, ready dressed, at half-past eight. Nine o'clock struck, however, before the box containing our apparel arrived. It had been delayed by some accident which we staid not to hear explained : but follow- ing Madame de St. Hermine's advice, who thought Mrs. Everley would be uneasy till our tardiness was accounted for, we jumped into Mr. Archers carriage, and drove di- rectly to Oakley Lodge, where it was de- termined we should dress. Madame de St. Ilermine chose to accompany us, to see us attired j and we were attended by Gerald- ine's maid. The two gentlemen agreed to follow us in a short time in my mother's coach. On our arrival at Mrs. Everley's, whom we found ready, and much surprised at our being so late, we ran, with her permission, up into her apartment, followed by Jane, and the almost-despaired-of box. We both began undressing, whilst the anxious girl was busily dragging forth the finery to light, and spreading it with great admira- tion upon the chairs : but conceive our dis- 108 may, when she suddenly and shrilly ex- claimed — " Oh my good gracious ! Here's a pretty job 1 They have sent but one dress, as sure as I am alive!" Scarcely crediting such an assertion, we hastily turned round, repeating at the same instant, " But one dress, Jane ! Is it possible ? " u Oh, it's as sure as I stand here, ladies ! The nasty toads must have mistaken the orders ; or else, when Mrs. Lesmore wrote to forbid her own things, they thought she meant to forbid Miss Julia's also. I turned and turned every thing over fifty ways be- fore I would speak : but I might as well have saved myself the trouble 5 for not an- other thread but what you see can I find." Then shutting down the lid of the box to examine the direction — * Aye, aye, they are all for you, ma'am, sure enough!" added she, addressing Ge- raldine, " Well, come, that is some com- fort too: but, poor Miss Lesmore! I de- clare, I am quite sorry for her." i09 " You have not the least occasion, Jane/' said Geraldine, quietly putting on again the gown she came in ; " my things will fit Miss Lesmore, and I desire that you will imme- diately help her to get ready.'* "* No, no!" cried I, drawing back, " I would not wear them for the world i" " Indeed, my dear Julia, you must. I have as completely made up my mind about the matter as if I had known what was to happen. It will be no grievance to me, be assured. I am quite determined you shall go, and therefore be good, and make no fuss, and let Jane assist you directly." I still rejected the proposal with the ut- most vehemence ; and at that moment, Madame de St. Hermine, expecting to find us half dressed, entered the room. I flew to her — told her the unpleasant discovery that had been made, and besought her to exert her influence over Geraldine, in order to dissuade her from making the sacrifice she meditated. " Dissuade my beloved girl from doing what is right, hospitable, and kind ? No, 110 never ! You are her guest, and her friend, and, as such, amply entitled to the little re- signation I rejoice to hear she is so ready to make." " Ah ! Madame de St. Hermine," cried I, " you think only of what reflects credit upon Geraldine, and quite disregard the pain her resolution gives me !" « Why should it pain you, my dear Ju- lia ? Would you not, in similar circumstan- ces, do exactly the same for her ?" " Very likely not," cried I ; " such an offer might never have entered my head !" " You wrong yourself, Julia. But we have no time for discussion. Come, submit with a good grace, as a penance for the unjust imputation you have cast upon your own character." It was vain to make any longer resist- ance ; I saw they were both determined ; and, though with a reluctance wholly un- feigned, I suffered them to dispose of me as they pleased. I believe they made me very fine; but I had little inclination to survey myself, and still less times Mrs. Ill Everley, whose concern on hearing what had happened equalled mine, growing quite impatient to set out. Mr. Archer and Fer- dinand had not yet joined us : we waited ten minutes for them after I went down stairs ; but then the lady of the house, fear- ing her going so late would be construed into a saucy air, rung the bell for her car- riage, declaring she would delay her de- parture no longer. As I left the room, I said to Geraldine, " Pray, when your uncle, and your intended partner, see me in my borrowed trappings, how am I to have courage to look them in the face ?" " As for my uncle,*' answered she, " tell him the truth ; and as for Mr. Lesmore, say something very civil to him in my name ; entreat him to call up all his philosophy, and endeavour to bear his disappointment like a man!" " Are you so unjust, then, as to think he will not be very truly concerned at your absence ?'■ in " How is it possible I should think other- wise ?" She uttered this with a look of mock gravity, and an air of expostulation so irre- sistibly comic, that I could have laughed heartily had it been said of any body but Lesmore. She gave me no leisure, how- ever, to remonstrate with her, but hurrying me to Mrs. Everley's carriage, wished us both good night, stepped into her uncle's, .and, with Madame de St. Hermine and the disappointed Jane, drove home. During their short ride, as I was told this morning, a coach passed them on the road which they concluded was my mother's; and they both rejoiced that the two gentle- men would arrive at Sir James's so nearly :at the same time with our party. Every thing at Mr. Archer's door was perfectly quiet when they stopped at it; and alighting without asking any questions, they proceeded to the drawing-room. It was empty, my mother having already re- tired to her own chamber: but as it was 113 still early, they both felt disinclined to fol^- low her example ; Madame de St. Hermine, therefore, took up a book, and Geraldine placed herself at the piano-forte. She was singing, with newly-restored powers, having but lately recovered from a severe cold, a favourite air of Madame de St. Hermine's, which drew off all that lady's attention from the book she held, when, to their inexpressible surprise, my brother en- tered the room. " Mr. Lesmore ! " exclaimed Madame de St. Hermine; c< why, how does this happen ? We thought you were on your road to Sir James Charleburg's ! " " Believe me," answered he, " my ap- pearance cannot more astonish you, than Miss Fauconberg's does me ! I thought she was at Sir James Charleburg's ! " " But how comes it," resumed Madame de St. Hermine, " that you are not gone ? Where is Mr. Archer?" " Just awaking from a sound nap which seized him soon after you went to Oakley Lodge, and which, recollecting he had been 114 out, shooting, the whole morning, I had not the resolution to shorten or disturb." " That was considerate and kind ! " softly observed Geraldine. " But now," added Lesmore, " tell me, why is it I find Miss Fauconberg here?" Before this inquiry could be answered, Mr. Archer made his appearance. " Am I still dreaming," cried he, rubbing his eyes, " or are you really my niece Ge- raldine? What is the matter, child? Why are you not dancing and flirting at the ball ? Do you think you shall go with me in that trumpery, every-day gown ? " " She has nothing else for it," said Ma- dame de St. Hermine ; " unless, indeed, she goes stupidly to bed." She then, simply and briefly, related what had passed. Mr. Archer was enchanted. He kissed the cheek of his pleased and grateful niece ; told her that the most brilliant birthday suit would never render her half so hand- some in his eyes as such an act of cheerful good-nature ; and prognosticated to her the 115 pleasantest dreams she had ever had in her life. Ferdinand, though less avowedly, was, Madame de St. Hermine assures me, equally charmed. He gazed, she said, at Gerald- ine with an expression of new-born re- spect, and heart-felt admiration ; and when Mr. Archer ceased speaking, acknowledged her goodness to me in the warmest terms ^ adding, " I cannot, however, but lament, even after the example of self-denial you have set me, that I am thus, Miss Fauconberg, to be deprived of my partner! May I, for this loss, claim a compensation ? " " Pray what is it to be ? " " I have never yet," resumed he, " ex- cept as I entered the room a few minutes since, had the pleasure of hearing you sing. This may seem an odd time to solicit such a favour : but Mr. Archer, I know, is in no haste to be gone - y nor now, to say the truth, am I. Will you, then, c without let or hindrance,' allow me to hear the whole of 116 the air of which I only indistinctly caught apart?" " You have admirably," answered she, laughing, " proportioned the recompense to the loss ! " , Saying this, she resumed her seat at the instrument, and, without hesitation, or the slightest confusion, complied with his re- quest. Do you know, Augusta, this total exemption from all that embarrassment she but recently experienced in Ferdinand's presence, appears to me a sign de mauvaise augure f It looks as if, now her apprehen- sions of him are dissipated by the habit of daily intercourse, no other impression had taken their place in her mind \ as if she felt towards him nothing but the most tranquil and determined indifference. — Ah ! if such is the case, how severely will Lesmore's ill- founded prejudices against her be punished ! v We have often observed the happy effect which singing always produces upon the countenance of this dear girl. Lovely as .she is, yet never does she look so beautiful 117 as when thus employed; her mouth, par- ticularly, is embellished by it to a wonder- ful degree : no grimaces, no affectation, dis- figure the symmetry of her features; but her whole aspect is lighted up by an air of genuine sensibility, a sort of supplicating softness, that has, more than once, affected Vie nearly as much as her exquisite sweet- ness of voice, and truly Italian taste. My brother, Madame de St. Hermine told me, stood leaning against the piano- forte in such a direction, that he could dis- cern every variation of her expressive face; She is sure he experienced the strongest emotion. " He looked," she added, " as if " PossessM beyond the Muse's painting — " By turns he felt the glowing mind " Disturbed, delighted, rais'd, refin'd!" cc And this," she continued, " is not a mere poetical flight, a vague fa^onde parler. t seriously assure. you, that no countenance ever more visibly portrayed a mind ' wrapt,' enchanted, touched! — Ah! my dear Julia, let us but once succeed in undermining the 118 rash systems, the youthful asperities, the- romantic fastidiousness of his too highly- wrought imagination, and we shall have this proud but noble feeling, and generous Lesmore, at our Geraldine's feet ! They will weave their own nets, if we abstain from interference; and catch and bind each other more securely than any arts or ir.- sinuations of ours could effect." " But, madam, has not Geraldine im- bibed sentiments of aversion, at least of cool, unconcerned apathy, respecting him, yet more hopeless and unpromising ? " " That is all fair, my dear child," an- swered she, smiling. " He has treated her with such marked negligence, such uncon- cealed disregard, that she could not avoid learning either to hate, or to grow utterly indifferent about him. Of the first, her na- ture is incapable ; and at the second I am by no means alarmed. All her easy and provokingly unembarrassed civility to him, will, ere long, vanish 5 and we shall see her, sooner perhaps than you are aware, look- 119 ing as much like a simpleton, as shy, and as uncomfortable as heart could wish." When the song was over, Madame de St. Hermine, looking at her watch, warned both Mr. Archer and Lesmore to depart. " I wished your brother," said she, " to go whilst the impression Geraldine had made was fresh upon his mind, whilst the tones of her soul-subduing voice still vi- brated in his ear. He was evidently ex- tremely reluctant to leave - us ; but I in- sisted upon it, and the carriage was ordered round. Now, my dear Julia, let me hear what passed at the ball. Did he there say any thing to you concerning your friend? " I told her, that when he entered I was dancing with a gentleman Miss Charleburg had introduced to me -, but as soon as my engagement ended, I went up to him with Mrs. Everley. " Ferdinand," said I, " I am ashamed of being here; ashamed of having consented to avail myself of the kindness that was almost forced upon me." " You are not the only one, my dear 120 Julia, who has reason to be ashamed when- ever the recollection of Miss Fauconberg rises to mind!" He said this with a sort of serious half- smile, more expressive than the words them- selves; but, presently assuming a less con- scious look, he added, " I believe she is of a disposition to which the performance of every good is so essentially necessary for the gratification of her own feelings, that it is superfluous ever to be concerned at her doing too much ! " " Who is this tremendously perfect crea- ture?" said a voice just behind us. We hastily turned our heads, and beheld Mrs. Neville. Ferdinand coloured with surprise; per- haps, with pleasure also. I started with vexation; for this lady is, I own, of all others, the one I least wished to meet in the vicinity of Highgrove Park. Their mutual greetings were frank, ani- mated, and cordial. Mrs. Neville, ill-dis- posed as I am towards her, I cannot but allow, looked beautiful; yet, in less than five minutes, I heard her beginning to abuse her own appearance, and that of every one present, with the most unmerciful se- verity. " Were you ever/* said she to my bro- ther, " at a more stupid, unmeaning, taste- less raree-show, than the one we have now the honour to make a part of ? Look at half the women in company, myself included, disguised and disfigured by colours as un- suitable to their faces, as if they had been maliciously chosen for that very purpose : look at the other, exulting and simpering at .the fortunate conformity to their sallow skins of the odious livery we have been forced to assume.. Observe the wearisome uniformity of the coup d'teiV; the great un- broken mass of inelegant sameness, which strikes and fatigues the beholder ! From the moment I entered the room, I have been making comparisons in my own mind, be- tween the endless continuity of hue and de- coration here displayed, and the immense, level, uninterrupted, green plain, in which Madame de Genlis condemns a fickle co- VO.L. I G . quette, in one of her tales*, to pace for thirty years, with slow and measured so- lemnity of step, as a cure for her volatility. And a very infallible one it might prove, to judge by the soporific effect this unvaried and uninteresting scene, the very counter- part of that she describes, has produced upon me." " You have less reason for complaint,*' said Ferdinand, laughing, ■". than most of those who are present ; since the fertility of your own fancy can always supply you with abundant sources of amusement.' ' " No ; this spot deadens all fancy. I can think of nothing but the monotonous green plain, and the yawning flirt who was sentenced to linger out upon it so many precious years of her existence. Besides, how cruel to make us hate the resemblance of the heroes of our country ! And yet, such is the case. The continual repetition here exhibited, in lockets, broaches, fans, and medallions, of the weather-beaten faces * Les Veillees du Chateau, Tome III. p. 344. 123 of those gallant conquerors in whose ho- nour this brilliant fete is intended, makes me apprehensive I shall have them glaring before my eyes, at all hours of the day, for a month to come! Every thing I look at will seem to me the head of an ugly ad- miral; and I shall so completely lose the faculty of discrimination, that all colours will appear to me alike! " These sarcastic, but not wholly unjust observations, drew from me an involuntary smile, which escaped not the notice of the fair critic. " Mr. Lesmore," said she, quitting the air and tone of ridicule she had hitherto worn, and giving to her countenance an expression of graciousness and good-breed- ing ; " I must beg to be introduced to your sister ; for such I should be sure, wherever I met her, this youhg lady must be, by the very striking resemblance I perceive be- tween you.'* This was no clumsy douceur; she could not but suppose I should be flattered -by a comparison to a man universally acknow- 124 ledged to be so handsome. However, as the compliment came from her, it gave me little pleasure ; and I went through the ceremony of presentation with a tepid, a merely acquiescent civility, that seemed to disappoint and surprise her. She very soon left my neighbourhood; and walked about for the rest of the evening, attended by Lesmore, without again addressing me. She wholly declined dancing; contenting her- self with looking on, and making charitable remarks upon those who did. These "gibing spirits," as our Shake- speare calls them, always excite my dislike, unless I know they have real worth suffi- cient to compensate, in some measure, for so reprehensible a turn of mind. I will not assert that I never laugh at their biting jests; but laughter is no infallible criterion of approbation. Mrs. Neville's animadver- sions, however, were too general to deserve severe censure ; and I will be candid enough to confess, that had they fallen from any other lips, I might, perhaps, have recorded them as apt and well-deserved. But, to my 125 "jaundiced eye," all she says and does seems tinctured with mischief. Mr. Archer, in the course of the evening, stepped up to ask me if I knew who she was ? I told him her name, and. he immediately exclaimed, " Oh, ho ! It is the recent purchaser of Westhill, is it ? Upon my faith, she'll cut a dash amongst us ! I never saw a finer woman. Geraldine shall go and visit her the moment we hear she has taken posses- sion of her new house." I was prepared for this resolution, and perfectly aware that it would be weak and imprudent to endeavour to oppose it. Ge- raldine, I know, wishes extremely to see Mrs. Neville; and the acquaintance, I plainly perceive, must take place.. I shall not trouble you with any further account of what passed at the ball, the most uninteresting one, to me, at which I ever remember to have been present. I danced a great deal, but with partners wholly un- known to me ; harmless, good sort of gentle- 19,6 men, who were successively introduced to me by different members of the Charleburg family, and whose faces, were I to meet them again, I should hardly recollect. We supped about two o'clock, and at half past three Mrs. Everley and I declared our- selves ready to depart, and begged the gen- tlemen would order the carriage. Mrs, Neville went away a few minutes before us, but only made a silent and passing court'sy to me as she left the room. I have given her ample cause to dislike me, and cannot wonder at the effect my own repulsive man- ners have produced. We set Mrs. Everley down at her own house, and reached Highgrove Park before five o'clock. In the way to my own room, I had to pass that of Geraldiiie. I was tempted, I know not why, to take a peep at her ; and for that purpose, gently opening the door, stole cautiously to the bed side. The calm repose she was enjoying, the healthy glow upon her cheeks, the sober, half-excluded light in the apartment, and the perfect still- 127 ness that reigned around her, contrasted so forcibly, not only with my own aching head and haggard looks, as I beheld them reflected from an opposite mirror, but with the scene of glare and bustle in which I had so recently been engaged, that I felt dis- gusted with myself, and hastened to throw off the unseasonable ornaments and cum- bersome trappings which, I thought, gave me the air of a harassed strolling player. It was near one o'clock before I went down to breakfast, and the whole party was dispersed. Just as I had ended my solitary meal, however, Geraldine returned from a long walk she had been taking with Ma- dame de St. Hermine, looking so enviably gay, fresh, and blooming, that I cried out, on seeing her — " Bring none of your provoking, ani- mated airs here, to reproach my poor beat- ing temples, and hollow eyes !" " O, my poor Julia! are you paying so high a price for your evening's amusement ? Come, put on a hat, and step out with me 128 into the garden : we will sit somewhere in the shade, and the air will revive you." I followed her advice ; and as we slowly proceeded to one of our favourite benches, she said — " I hear Mrs. Neville was at the ball. When does she come to Westhill?" " I really do not know. Perhaps she is established there already. It seems hardly credible that she should come all the way from Lady Rachel Sinclair's to assist at Sir James's fete." " Were you introduced to her ? " " Yes, at her own desire." " And how did you like her conversa- tion?" " Why, as well as I usually do that of people who set up for wits: I listened and laughed a little in despight of myself, and then felt tempted to find fault with every word she had uttered." After this brief account, I changed the subject; described to her, as well as I could, the partners I l>ad danced with; the deco- 129 rations of the apartments; the prevailing fashions among the ladies, &c. and com- pletely prevented any further inquiries con- cerning Mrs. Neville. This evening we are told by Mr. Archer, that she is actually settled in her new abode, and that several families in this district have already been to visit her. He has, there- fore, determined that Geraldine shall follow their example without delay ; and to-morrow she goes, accompanied by my mother, on this curious expedition. How Mr. Archer obtained his informa- tion I am ignorant; not from Ferdinand we may rest assured: though I make no doubt he could have given it all from the best au- thority. Adieus my dearest Augusta. Yours, most affectionately, Julia Lesmore, G5 130 LETTER XII. FERDINAND LESMQRE, ESQ. TO THE REV. ARCHIBALD NEWENDEN. Highgrove Park, My dear Sir, fcept. 7. YOU complain of my silence at a time when, you say, all my thoughts and feel- ings are peculiarly interesting to you. I can only thank you for an interest so friend- ly; assure you I am well; and renew the promise I made on first coming hither, of paying you a visit as soon as the period of my engagement to Mr. Archer is elapsed. For the rest — I can say nothing: my thoughts and feelings will not admit of clear definition: I scarcely comprehend them myself. One only distinct perception is left me, the nature of which is harassing and painful. When we meet, I will endea- vour to be more intelligible; perhaps, by 131 that time, I may have learnt to understand myself. Farewel, my most dear and respected friend. Ferdinand Lesmore. 132 LETTER XIII. MISS LESMORE TO MRS. LUMLEY. Sept. 8. THE visit to Mrs. Neville, my dear Augusta, is over, and I was compelled to be ono of the party which drove, yesterday morning, in an open carriage, to her house. The approach to it, the grounds, the ele- gant simplicity of the mansion itself, would, any one of them, have charmed me, had I been in a humour to be charmed by any thing. But I went a contre cceur ; and merely because my mother, hearing I had been introduced to Mr,s. Neville at Sir James Charleburg's, insisted upon it : and the whole way we drove, I thought every thing looked ugly, except the placid, yet open and intelligent, countenance of Ge- raldine. 133 Whether struck by her appearance, or merely flattered by the promptness of her visit, I know not; but the reception Mrs. Neville gave to her was distinguishingly polite. I thought they regarded each other with mutual interest and mutual curiosity; and they both appeared pleased after the short and guarded examination had passed. Towards me, the behaviour of Mrs. Neville was as cold as I had reason to expect. My mother she treated much better ; and Mr. Archer, who accompanied us, was smiled upon most courteously. She has two tall, fashionable girls with her, Lady Elizabeth and Lady Catherine Neville, daughters of the Earl of M , her brother-in-law. They surveyed us with si- lent dignity during the whole visit; ap- peared very proud and dull; and, I will venture to assert, are extremely ill suited to their gay hostess. She bestowed upon them very little notice ; and they stared on, forgotten, and unmarked. After some general observations on the situation of her house, the neighbourhood 134 she had quitted, and that to which she was come, Mrs. Neville asked Geraldine why she was not at Sir James Charleburg's ball ? " I was prevented/ ! answered she, " by an awkward mistake of the people who were employed to make our dresses." I longed to tell the truth, but knew not how the unostentatious Geraldine would like it ; and besides, before so many stran- gers, had hardly courage/ " Can any thing on earth," cried Mrs. Neville, " be more clumsy than the plan of giving an entertainment from which the guests you most wish to see may be ex- cluded by the blunders of a mantua-mal^er ? You and I, Miss Fauconberg, will never send forth invitations clogged with such re- strictions." " No," said Geraldine; " for I could ne- ver forgive the mantua-maker whose blun- ders might deprive me of the pleasure of seeing you." . " Thank you ; this gracious assurance makes me eager to experience the realiza- tion of your promised goodness. What say 135 you to encouraging, Mr. Archer, in your niece, these favourable dispositions, towards a new-comer ? Let her give us a ball, for the double purpose of teaching Sir James how to give his next, and of proving the sincerity of her own professions. " " I have had some project of this na- ture in contemplation," saftl Mr. Archer, " which, to bring to maturity, wanted no- thing but so irresistible an application. — Come and look at our house, madam, and tell us how it is calculated for such an un- dertaking." " I will" do any thing which you, most docile and tractable of all uncles, desire I I have not met with so reasonable a creature these hundred years 1" The solemn sisters simpered a little on hearing of the probability of what is, per- haps, the first joy of their lives, a ball ; and looked as if they were not without hopes of being included amongst the number of those who were to be invited. They seem very proper sort of persons for such a meeting : I can imagine that they perform their steps 136 to perfection ; know how to brow-beat alt competitors for the highest place in a coun- try-dance ; dress well, and make no scruple of flattering the men they wish to have for partners. Mrs. Neville, after this, asked us to look at her green-house; described the altera- tions she intended making in the flower- garden ; showed us a plan of her own de- vising for a rustic seat; conducted us to a mount commanding an extensive and ad- mirable prospect ; loaded us with a quan- tity of rare and beautiful carnations ; and sent us all away, even me, highly gratified by onr visit, and most favourably disposed towards her. Ferdinand, who had spent the morning in the fields shooting, and was but just re- turned when we drove up to Mr. Archer's door, handed us from the carriage, and as we descended, said, — " Well, did you find Mrs. Neville at home?" "Yes," replied my mother; " and we sat with her above an hour."' 137 Lesmore looked at Geraldine as if lie wished to read in her face the opinion she had conceived of the lady in question ; but she seemed not aware. of his intention, and was passing on without speaking, when he stopped her to admire the variety and fra- grance of her carnations. " Mrs. Neville,'* said she, " has been pro- fuse in her donations to me. Will you have one?'* He thanked her, accepted the flower she held out to him, and then added — " Is Mrs. Neville as fond as you are of a garden ?" " I believe she is." Poor Ferdinand could find nothing fur- ther to say, though he betrayed an evident desire of still detaining her ; and she, who did not appear to have the least suspicion of his design, went quietly up stairs. The persuasion this dear girl seems to have imbibed of the unfavourable opinion my brother entertains of her is so deeply rooted, that the prospect of ever seeing her as well-disposed towards him as we could 138 wish is, at present, equally unpromising and remote. She harbours against him no re- sentment ; indulges no desire of retaliation ; but appears decidedly, and calmly regard- less of all his proceedings; unconcerned at' his absence, almost unconscious of his pre- sence. How must a proud and susceptible spirit like his be galled and wounded by this utter indifference ! His own injurious dis- dain and fastidious folly incurred it. Ge- raldine merits no blame, even from those who may most lament the unfortunate turn affairs have taken. Could I discern in her the slightest indication of pique, of lurking anger or premeditated reserve, I should re- tain greater hopes ; but her whole beha- viour, her looks, her voice, are equally easy, cheerful, and natural. She never addresses to him an indirect reproach ; makes no al- lusions, in his hearing, to the past ; treats him, whenever he throws himself in her way, with perfect good manners ; and is wholly unpreoccupied, and unaffectedly se- rene. The only apparent difference in her conduct towards him, and towards the rest 139 of the' family, is this: — with us, she is ca- ressing and familiar; she consults our tastes and opinions, and is attentive to all our wishes. Lesmore she never speaks to, un- less he first addresses her ; but cool, quiet, negligent, she seems so completely to forget his existence, that I have known it hap- pen, when he has been drawing in the even- ing at a table close to her, and has acci- dentally forborne for some time to join in our conversation, she has literally started on first hearing again the sound of his.voice ! Yesterday evening, Madame de St. Her- mine was speaking of some book which Geraldine had promised to bring down to her when she came to tea — "Have you remembered it, my love?" inquired she. " I looked for it before I left the dressing- rqom," answered Geraldine, "but could no Where find it. To-morrow I will renew the search.' ' " Is it not the same my brother borrowed of you last week ?" inquired L 140 « r Yes, exactly ; I will ask him what he has done with it when he comes in." Now, at that very moment, Lesmore was sitting within two yards of her (somewhat in shade, I own), and had even, just before, stretched out his hand to help himself to cream from the tea-board immediately op- posite to her ! So palpable an instance of her inattention to him surprised us all, and occasioned a general smile. Yet, I could perceive, my brother was hurt and discon- certed, although he attempted to disguise it, and accepted the excuses which, blush- ing, and looking really shocked, she ad- dressed to him, with apparent good-humour. I have given you this little anecdote as an instance, in point, of his thorough nothing- ness in her estimation. These are ill-boding symptoms, and grieve me most sincerely. During a long ramble Ferdinand induced me to take with him this morning, I insensibly led to the subject, and frankly spoke my opinion upon it. — Amongst other things, I said, " Geraldine 141 would have been incapable, without provo- cation, of treating you with so little consi- deration : but perceiving that you came to the house decidedly prejudiced against her; prepared to consider her as a weak, insig- nificant girl, she felt the injustice; con- quered the timidity and restraint the dis- covery first occasioned her ; and resuming her native dignity and composure, seems to regard your approbation or your scorn with equal unconcern." He heard me very patiently ; and when I paused, remained silent some minutes, and then said — " There is something in the tranquil, in- dependent pride she manifests, disdaining to court attention where once it has been rudely withheld, which I cannot but ad- mire. Yet l lament having given birth to it ; and I am fully sensible of the rash arro- gance of the judgement I formed of her. — Had she shown me those slights in return for assiduity and politeness, I should de- spise myself for regretting them.; but they originate, I well know, with myself: and 14*2 therefore I feel no scruple in determining to bear them, and to study, by patient sub- mission, to obliterate from her mind the re- membrance of what she first knew me." I was much pleased with these senti- ments ; yet, after all, I can scarcely tell why : for they are terribly rational and dis- passionate ! Not a shadow of love peeps forth from amidst their sententious gravity. Perhaps he was too proud to confess all the regret he experiences ; or, perhaps, he looks forward, in Mrs. Neville, to a compensa- tion for the insensibility of Miss Faucon- berg. I know not exactly what to think. He certainly observes Geraldine with great interest ; addresses her with a sort of hesita- tion amounting almost to diffidence ; de- lights in her talents ; pays invariable de- ference to her opinion; and is anxious to suffer no opportunity of obliging her to escape his vigilance^ But these advances are cautious and gradual, and such as, I firmly believe, she has hitherto entirely overlooked. Heaven knows how it will all end ! I 143 own that, at present, my fears are stronger than my hopes. Sept. II. For more than a week past Geraldine and I have risen every morning at seven o'clock, and rode out before breakfast. — Last night Lesmore, who had heard of these excursions, asked our permission to attend us. The request was granted; and to-day we took our first ride thus escorted. Nothing could be more delightful than this little expedition. There is something in the appearance and feel of early day so peculiarly gay and invigorating, that when- ever I have had resolution, in fine weather, to shake off the drowsiness too apt to weigh heavy upon my eye-lids, I have formed the noblest designs of habitual activity, and vowed, internally, " To meet the sun upon the upland lawn," every succeeding morn- ing of my life, I have not always main- tained these excellent determinations 5 a foggy, or a bleak and sullen atmosphere, puts them all to flight; and the next time I 144 force myself from my downy pillow, it is with a pang as if body and soul were tear- ing asunder! However, we have lately had a glorious succession of fine mornings, which I have enjoyed without a single relapse into indolence. Geraldine spoke but little during our ride, and Lesmore seemed disposed to fol- low her example ; but I would not suffer him. I said, that as he had chosen to at- tach himself to our party, the least he could do was, to render himself worthy of such a distinction by endeavouring to be agree- able; and, at last, I succeeded in making him very conversable and entertaining. As we .were returning home, we passed a small farm-house, occupied by people who, not being, like nearly all the other inhabitants of this district, tenants of Mr. Archer's, are wholly unknown to his niece. Two or three very fine children ran to the road-side to look at us ; and before we had gone two yards beyond the door, a female, apparently pretty — certainly }'Oimg — just showed herself in the porch, curt'sied, and 145 seemed, I thought, to regard Lesmore with the air of an old acquaintance. He per- ceived, I imagine, some symptoms of curi- osity or surprise in my countenance, and smiled ; but entered upon no explanation of the circumstance: and, in the presence of Geraldine, I deemed it wiser to forbear all direct inquiries. In the course of the morning, Mrs. Ne- ville drove herself here in a curricle, with one of the young ladies we saw at Westhill. We were all strolling upon the lawn in front of the house, when her elegant little equipage appeared in sight. Lesmore im- mediately knew the livery of the two ser- vants who attended it, and, going to the hall door, stood upon the steps in readiness to hand her from the carriage. In her way to the drawing-room, whither we were by this time returned, I heard her say, ?* I shall be much disappointed if you do not equally admire my vehicle and my driving. Like all new play-things, it is in VOL. I. H 146 high favour with me; and I expect you to be very eloquent upon it." ff We have not seen thepark look 30 gay since I have been here," answered Ferdi- nand. " Your vehicle is perfection ; and as to your driving, since you do every thing else well, I am very ready to believe you acquit yourself dexterously in that art also." She now entered the drawing-room, and was received by Geraldine with a grace and good-breeding equal to her own. When Madame de St. Hermine had been intro- duced to her, and we had all taken our seats, she glanced her sparkling eye round the room, and said, " I have not forgotten, Mr. Archer, the authority you delegated to me of deciding upon the capabilities of your house, for giving a ball. To judge by what I have seen of it, nothing can be better adapted to the purpose. In this very room, five and twenty couple might stand up with ease ; — - when, therefore, shall you send put your invitations?" 147 " I now give you," answered he, " in my niece's name and my own, yours, my dear madam, for the 24th of this month." " Are you in earnest, dear uncle ? " cried Geraldine. " I do not advise him," said Mrs. Neville, laughing, " to be otherwise, after what he has just declared ! He might depend upon seeing me here on the night of the 24th with a band of fiddlers, and half the county in my train, ready to dance to the music I had provided, and determined to make a consumption of the whole contents of his larder and cellar!" " Do not suspect me," resumed he, " of any design to retract ; but though I di- spense with your taking upon yourself the trouble of furnishing the fiddlers, yet I most readily sanction all your exertions to enlist beaux into the service. I fear they are a species of animal of which a woful dearth will be found in this neighbourhood." " Be assured of my most active co-ope- ration. I know that the commodity in question is of rare attainment in every 148 county; but I never yet was at a ball where there were not more light-heeled, and light-witted coxcombs, than could have been tolerated any where else." Her young companion, who seemed much interested by this conversation, now said, " We know of two gentlemen who are coming down into this neighbourhood next week, and who are both very good dancers." " Your brother, I conclude is one," said Mrs. Neville ; " but who is the other? " " Colonel Courtville. Don't you remem- ber hearing his sister, Mrs. Everley, say, that she was in hourly expectation of see- ing him at Oakley Lodge ?" " No, really; I neither retain names nor circumstances so accurately, when an en- tire stranger to those whom the circum- stances concern, and the names belong to!" " Colonel Courtville is not an entire stranger to me," resumed Lady Elizabeth, a little piqued ; cc I have met him at several houses in town." 149 " And is he agreeable ? " " I don't know; I never conversed with him." " Is he not, however, remarkably hand- some? " inquired my mother, glad to have> at last, thought of any thing to say to our uninteresting visitor; " Mrs. Everley has a picture of him which gives that idea very strongly." - " Yes," replied Lady Elizabeth ; " he is extremely handsome." This assent, unsupported by any subse- quent observation, terminated the little dia- logue my mother had so civilly begun. A new subject, she found, was to be started; and she was too indolent to seek for one. Mrs. Neville, now taking up a book from amongst several others that were scattered upon a small table near her, carelessly opened it, saying, " This must be a little French volume, by its bright pink cover ! O, my old favourite, A dele de Senange I — Dear Miss Fauconberg, why do you not have it bound ? " " It does not belong to me," said Gerald- 150 ine; ce I borrowed it yesterday of a lady in the neighbourhood." " Have you never read it ? " " I have never even opened it ! " "Then, believe me, you have a very great pleasure to come. It is elegantly written, and extremely interesting through- out ; but there is in it one passage so pe- culiarly sweet, so innocently tender, that every feeling heart must be affected by it. I will not tell you what the sentence is to which I allude; but, when you read the book, I am sure you will be struck by it." ■" And should I, do you think," said Ferdinand, smiling, " be equally successful in discovering its merits ? " « I don't know ; look at it, however. You men, wise as you would be thought, are not above beguiling the tedious hours with a little sentimental nonsense. I have seen many of you read the silliest, the most insipid tales, with as much gravity and at- tention as would have served to solve a problem." " I assure you," cried my mother, " that 151 is not the case with Ferdinand, who, gene- rally speaking, dislikes novels." " The truth is," said he, " the heroines of romance are described as beings so be- witchingly amiable, that they put me out of humour with women in real life 5 and the heroes are so perfect, that they fill me with a mortifying sense of my own inferiority." " I differ from you entirely," cried Mrs. Neville. " One of the strongest objections that might be urged against novels is, the passionate, impatient, and over-bearing character assigned to most of the lovers. The authors tell you a prodigious deal of their generosity, courage, and enthusiastic sensibility ; but many of them are so quar- relsome, have so little self-command, or are so blindly and furiously jealous, that one might live as securely and as peaceably with a half-intoxicated savage ! The per- fect heroes you describe were formerly, I allow, in fashion; but you read of no Sir Charles Grandisons now: the present ton among that class of imaginary per- sons, particularly in foreign publications, 152 is rashness, selfishness, and a sort of mad irritability, for which any actually-exist- ing creature would deserve to be shut up in a dark room, and fed upon bread and water ! " " There is so much justice in this criti- cism," said Madame de St. Hermine, " that good temper, one of the first requisites to happiness in social' life, and fortitude to endure evil, one of the noblest virtues of the human mind, seem to be totally put out of the question, in the enumeration of a hero's merits. " " What has most provoked me," cried Geraldine, " in the very limited number of these sort of books which I have been per- mitted to read is, the intuitive and super- natural genius, for all kinds of accomplish- ments, attributed to the heroines. Brought up, many of them, in profound retirement, often poor and dependent, they acquire, nobody knows how, a skill in languages, in music, in dancing and drawing, such as we have often found, to our sorrow, the most assiduous application, under the direction 153 of the best masters, will not enable us to attain. And these self-educated ladies are always described "as out-soaring every girl of real fashion, who ventures to vie with them in talent and cultivation." " I hold these vulgar exaggerations in such profound contempt," cried Mrs. Ne- ville, " that, were the innate endowments they record credible, I would rather forfeit the chance of ever hearing another note of music, or of ever again beholding another picture, than be condemned to listen to, or look at, the effects produced by them. — But, " something too much of this *." Sup- pose, now, we go and look at your con- servatory, Mr. Archer; I hear it is a de- lightful one." We all attended her to the garden, from whence we led her to the side of the river ; showed her the pleasure-boat ; pointed out to her some of our favourite seats; invited her to try her skill in shooting at our tar- get; and then accompanied her back to * Hamlet. H5 154 the house, where, after taking some refresh- ment, she rung for her carriage, saying, " My poor little greys must pay for the treat I have been enjoying; I shall make them trot home with their best speed, for I expect - company, and shall scarcely have time to dress for dinner." As Lesmore walked with her to the door, whither we likewise escorted her to look at her greys and her curricle, she said to him, " I hope next week to have the pleasure of seeing you to dinner, Mr. Lesmore; I shall then have a gentlemen at my house, the brother of Lady Elizabeth, who may relieve you from the fear of encountering a mere party of females." " He is used to that," cried Madame de St. Hermine. " We have him in such good training that you need not apprehend his proving refractory." " But you will allow me to suppose, my dear madam, his good behaviour in such society depends a little upon the attrac- tions he may find in it." 155 She then mounted her light and airy car, Lady Elizabeth stepped in after her, and » they drove out of sight with almost alarm- ing rapidity. The first sentence, which, in the warmth of-her heart, Geraldine uttered as we turned from the door, was, " She is a most delightful creature ! " " She is, indeed/' cried Mr. Archer. " I was charmed with her the moment I saw her at Sir James Charleburg's. She unites to an appearance of high fashion, a very beautiful face and figure ; and to the most unaffected vivacity, a great deal of good sense and observation. How long have you known her, Lesmore? and how, in the d- -l's name ! have you escaped falling in love with her?" This trying question, whatever might be its effects upon the cheeks of Ferdinand, made mine tingle so sensibly, that I turned away to avoid being observed. The coun- tenance of Geraldine, however, caught my eye, an instant, as I passed her: a smile so arch played about her mouth, and there 156 was so much meaning in her downcast face, that had I been compelled to interpret to her uncle all it expressed, very few doubts would have remained to him of Lesmore's sensibility to the attractions of Mrs. Ne- ville. I heard but indistinctly the answer he made to the plain interrogatory that had been addressed to him; by the tone of his voice, however, I discovered it to be uttered in raillery; and Mr. Archer, laughing, quitted him, and went into his study. I must now close this long letter, my dear Augusta, or it will be too bulky for a frank. Let me only add, that the ball, so- licited by Mrs. Neville, is really determined upon; and that, though Mr. Archer per- mits that lady to imagine it is granted at her request, Madame de St. Hermine tells me, he had it in contemplation from the moment he learnt the disinterested renun- ciation made by dear Geraldine in my fa- vour on the night she was to have gone to Sir James Charleburgs. Ferdinand, you may believe, is invited to prolong his stay 157 here on this occasion. My mother, how- ever, leaves us in a few days to establish herself for the rest of the year at Park ton Castle ; but consents to my remaining with my friend till October. I hope at that period, my dear sister, you will pay us your promised visit; my mother herself, though extremely impatient to see both you and your little girl, is so good as not to wish for your arrival till I am at home. Ferdinand will be with her part of the time I shall be absent; and during the remainder, she will amuse herself with superintending the pro- gress of her new dairy. We have sometimes been praised for our accommodating and easy tempers. Do you not think with me, that whatever merit may be imputed to us on that account, we derive by inheritance from our mild and in- dulgent mother ? Who could be captious or unreasonable that had been brought up under the eye of such a parent! Adieu, my dear Augusta. Yours, wjith true affection, , - Julia Lesmore. 158 LETTER XIV. MISS LESMORE TO THE SAME. Sept. 14. ALL our fine weather, my dear Au- gusta, has forsaken us ; and for these last two days we have been confined to the house by almost incessant rains, without seeing a single creature. Do not, however, suppose I mean to complain of dulness. We seem all to be provided with spirits more than sufficient to counteract the be- numbing influence of gloomy weather. Ma- dame de St. Hermine arranges and classes the botanical plants she has employed the summer in drying and collecting. „My mo- ther toils like another Penelope at her cross- stitch ; Mr. Archer avails himself of the involuntary reprieve he is obliged to give the partridges, in order to examine some old accounts his steward has vainly plagued him to look at this month past. Geraldine 159 paints whilst I practise the harp, or plays and sings herself whilst I, with the worst memory in the world, puzzle myself over an Italian verb. Ferdinand spends two or three hours in his own apartment after breakfast, and draws or reads. But at two o'clock the scene changes ; we all become sociable, and meet in the library, to eat fruit and brown bread 5 inquire after each other's proceedings of the morning ; com- ment upon the weddings or stories of mur- der in the newspaper, and romp with the dogs; then, while Mr. Archer and my brother go to the billiard-room, Geraldine and I repair to the hall, and play at battle- dore and shuttlecock. The exclamation of " O dear, I wish it would be fine!" does not proceed from any of our lips oftener than once in four and twenty hours. I had nearly, however, by my own flip- pancy, deprived myself of the resource which battledore and shuttlecock afford. Yesterday, whilst Geraldine and I were en- gaged at this favourite game, Lesmore, who was waiting to begin playing at billiards l6o till a man went away who had just called upon Mr. Archer on business, stood look- ing at us in the hall nearly a quarter of an hour. In the evening, happening to pass the little table at which he usually sits and draws, I took a peep over his shoulder at what he was doing, and before he could be aware of my vicinity, beheld a very grace- ful female figure, which, though but slightly sketched in chalks, represented the exact attitude, dress, and form of Geraldine, such as he had seen her in the morning whilst observing her in the hall. I leant gently forward, and said in a low voice, " Give me that drawing, Ferdinand ; I shall value it much more than you will." He started on finding me so near him, but answered with perfect good humour, " You possess already an ample share of the original's favour. I have nothing but this inanimate resemblance of her : let me, at least, retain that." I was pleased with this reply, and, pat- ting his shoulder, returned to my seat. But when we went up for the night, I 161 could not forbear telling Geraidine what I had seen. She laughed, coloured a little, said it was very flattering to her to find Mr. Lesmore thought her figure worth design- ing ; and wishing me good nighty went to her own room. Tims far all was very well : but this morning, when at the usual hour she asked me again to play, I pertly enough rallied her upon the subject of the drawing, and told her she wanted to furnish attitudes for another. " O Julia ! what an opinion you must have of my vanity ! You make me almost determine never to play again." Saying this, she actually 1 passed me with the intention, I believe, of going back to the dressing-room ; but I flew after her, and partly by entreaties, partly by remonstran- ces, prevailed upon her to return. Ferdi- nand never approached us, and our game was disturbed by no intruding observers. The French novel Mrs. Neville so strongly recommended to our perusal, has been a 162 great resource to us these last two evenings. Madame de St. Hermine, who reads her native language so admirably, and Gerald- ine, who, from the long habit of associating with her, performs that difficult task equally well, take it by turns to be our public lec- turers. We sit in a little group near the fire (for since these rains we have fires in the evening), and forget all time f All seasons, and their change." , My mother and Mr. Archer, at a separate table, play a quiet game at piquet ; but, now and then, listen to what is going for- ward, make some little observation, and take no inconsiderable degree of interest in the story. We proceeded through several letters which, however entertaining and well writ- ten, appeared not to contain any passage worthy the high praise we had heard from Mrs. Neville, when Geraldine, who had the book in her hand, and, during an 163 interruption made by Mr. Archer, had suf- fered her eye to glance forward, hastily cried out, " O this must be the part Mrs. Neville alluded to !" She then went on reading an account of the accidental discovery of some benevo- lent action performed by the hero of the tale, and which his mistress gently re- proaches him for not having revealed sooner. " // falloit" dit-elky " nous mettre dans voire confidence s nous aurions part age votre bonne action. " — ■" Ne me reprochez pas mon silence ; il~y-a une sorte oVembarras a parler du peu de bien qiCon pent faire" — " Pour- quoi?" demandat-elle, vivement, " Moi 9 fen ferois expres pour vous le dire*! " The unpremeditated tenderness and ex- quisite simplicity of this last speech, drew. * " You ought," said she, " to have admitted us into yoUr confidence ; we would have shared in your charit- able action." — " Do not reproach me for my silence. — It is embarrassing to speak of the little good we may do." — " Why so ?" demanded she, with vivacity, " I would do good expressly to tell you of it !" 164 from every mouth an exclamation of de- light. " How is the man to be envied," cried Ferdinand with warmth, " to whom words, artlessly implying such devoted affection, could be addressed !" " But what a delicious motive for doing good !" said Geraldine. " Of all human in- citements, that of giving pleasure to those we love seems to me the highest !" " Retain, and ever cherish this social and disinterested sentiment !" cried Madame de St. Hermine, regarding her with the kindest approbation; " I love to discover in my Geraldine feelings so generous and so friendly !" I stole a side-long glance at Lesmore during this speech, and, to say the truth, observed that he seemed to love her quite as well ! Leaning upon one arm, his port- crayon suspended over his drawing, and his dark eyes rivetted upon the animated coun- tenance of Geraldine, he appeared to con- template her with affection, softness, and complacency. Since he has been here, I 165 have never seen his liberal and feeling mind shine forth in his looks so strongly ! How much I wished, at that moment, to have possessed the power of directing towards him the attention of the lovely object of his meditations ! But she dreamt not of having attracted his notice ; never turned her eyes towards the place where he sat ; and in a few minutes again resumed her book. Ah, Ferdinand ! how continually when I reflect upon the tardy change in your opinion of this most amiable girl, do these words of Shakespeare occur to my recol- lection, " What our contempts do often hurl from us, w We wish it ours again !" Ant. & Cleop. Sept. 15. Mv mother left us this morning, more warmly prepossessed than ever in favour of our dear Geraldine, whose attention tp her, during her whole visit, has been unremit- ting and affectionate. 166 The sun again peeps forth ; our walks, though not to such a distance from home, have been resumed; the slaughter of the poor partridges, by our two gentlemen, has again commenced ; visitors once more find their way to the house ; and the day after to-morrow Mrs. Neville dines here, with a large party of Everleys and Charleburgs. Sept. 16. I HAVE again seen the young woman of whom I mentioned having had a glimpse at the farm-house we passed during our last early ride. She was at church this morn- ing, in company with an elderly man, who, I imagine, is her father. In walking to our pew, some little impediment obliged us to stop for a moment, and my eyes accident- ally rested upon this girl. She is, as I sa- gaciously suspected, extremely pretty, and has a look of perfect modesty > but I did not instantly recollect her, and perhaps might not have done so at all, had not a bright blush, and a half-pleased, half-bashful 167 glance which she cast towards Ferdinand, who was walking next me, recalled the former interview, if it may be so germed, to my remembrance. The change in the young woman's countenance escaped not, I fear, the observation of Geraldine, who, as well as myself, was at that moment re- garding her. She moved forward, however, as soon as the path-way was cleared, with- out turning her head ; but I could not for- bear looking round at my brother, upon whose face I perceived the traces of a re- cent and very friendly smile. What can be the circumstances attending his knowledge of this girl ? Why does she blush on seeing him ? And why each time I have beheld her, has he, though evidently aware of my curiosity concerning her, observed so total a silence upon the subject ? Time, perhaps, may explain all this mystery : meanwhile, I have only to wish Geraldine had not wit- nessed the sort of intelligence that seems to subsist between them. She has said no- thing to me, however, in relation to the 168 business, and perhaps has already forgot- ten it. Sept. 18. OUR company staid late yesterday, and, when they went, I was too sleepy and tired to take up the pen., Mr. and Mrs. Everley brought with them, by previous permission, solicited in the morning, the brother of the latter, Colonel Courtville. He is now quartered at N , but spends much of his time at Oakley Lodge. Though by no means so hand- some at eight and twenty or thirty, as his picture represents him to have been at six- teen, he is still eminently distinguished for personal appearance : but he is a thorough coxcomb, and rather of the old-fashioned school. In his looks and voice there is a studied sentimentality, a dying softness, that renders it difficult and embarrassing to en- counter his eye. He seems making love to every lady he addresses -, and I suspect is by no means backward in attributing to the 169 irresistible force of his own attractions, the confusion his languishing glances often oc- casion. - The other individuals of our party were Mrs. Neville, her two guests, Lady Eliza- beth and Lady Catherine Neville, Sir James Charlebury, and his son and daughter. The three latter are, in all respects, by far the most disagreeable people I have become acquainted with in this neighbourhood. Sir James obtained his present title and estate, as heir-at-law to the last possessor, to whom he was personally an utter stranger. What his habits and pursuits might be previ- ous to this elevation, I will not pretend to determine \ there is every reason, however, to conclude, by his very evident want of education, and the prodigious consequence he now assumes, that they were not such as he would, at this time, be proud to ac- knowledge. The son is a pedantic, awkward, college student; vociferous, presuming, and, tome, intolerable. Miss Charlebury, with a pretty figure, but an unmeaning, sallow, plain vol. I. I 170 countenance, affects the coquettish airs- of a beauty ; practises a thousand hackneyed tricks to obtain notice ; and conveys, in her manners towards women, much of the for- ward familiarity with which she seeks to gain attention from the men. She has 're- ceived an expensive education ; dances well, but affectedly ; sings, plays the piano-forte, and, as her father took care to inform us, the lute, the lyre, the Spanish guitar, and the pedal harp ! She chose always to ad- dress Madame de St. Hermine in French, though that lady speaks English with the greatest facility, and with less foreign ac- cent than any of her countrywomen I ever heard. Miss Charlebury likewise found opportunity to acquaint us with her profi- ciency in the Italian language ; talked flu- ently of Tasso, Petrarch, and Dante; said she was now studying Spanish and German ; and, in short, did every thing that in one visit could be done, towards inspiring us with boundless veneration for her immense acquirements. Previous to this, however, it was her fa- 171 tliers turn to display his importance. la a manner scarcely veiled even by the flim- siest covering of delicacy or good manners, he made perpetual comparisons between the merits of his own and Mr. Archer's cook ; sipped and tasted the wine with the smack of a connoisseur -, asked how long Mr. Archer had had it ? what vintage it was of? whether he remembered the port, claret, or Madeira he had drank when last at Charlebury Hall ? told what each pipe cost him; repeated the favourable observa- tions upon it of sundry lords and baronets ; informed us what the average weight of his pine apples had been the last two seasons, and recommended to his host a new r method of managing his hot-house, acknowledging it was expensive, but pompously adding, " Every thing must be expensive if you seek for perfection; and I fairly confess that it always puts me out of humour to see at my own table a merely moderate thing of any kind. Fruit, for instance, which 1 myself seldom touch, I am so particularly nice about, that I always gather it with my own hand. Pray, Mrs. Neville, send up that dish of grapes ; they appear to me to be some of the same sort I lately sent as a present to my Lord . He tasted them at Charlebury Hall, and declared they were the finest he ever met with ; considerably better than any he had at either of his seats. So, I sent him a handsome basket of them, and Arabella wrote a polite note, accompanied with the words and music of a Spanish song, which my lord heard her sing to her guitar, and which, we thought, might be acceptable to Lady Georgiana., his daughter." After this, he examined the grapes with profound gravity, bunch by bunch, and ended with candidly acknowledging, that though these were certainly Tery fine, he had scarcely any but what were heavier, and bore larger fruit. " But there is," continued he, by way of consolation, " a great deal of luck in all these things. I happen to have one of the very best gardeners in England ; the aspect of my hot-house is perfection ; I spare no m cost to have every thing as good as the cli- mate will allow ; and, somehow or other, I am so fortunate as to succeed beyond even my own most sanguine expectations," Mr. Archer bore all this parade of supe- riority with exemplary composure and in- difference. Mrs. Neville talked to her two neighbours, Mr. Everley and my brother; Colonel Courtville, in a low voice, ad- dressed to me a great deal of insignificant small-talk ; his sister looked weary ; the Lady Nevilles surveyed the boasting ba- ronet with grave contempt; Geraldine, sup- pressing a smile, stole, now and then, an expressive look at the half-yawning Ma- dame de St. Hermine; Mr. Charlebury oc- casionally chimed in with his insufferable father ; and his sister entered into a voluble detail, intended for the joint edification of the Colonel and myself, of the immense trouble she took, when in town last year, to procure a pit-box at the opera, the only part of the house, she added, in which her friend Lady L. who was to be partner with her iu the subscription, would ever sit. 174 At length this repast, which, to me, proved the dullest, and appeared by far the longest I ever made at Ilighgrove Park, concluded. Geraldine retired with the }a- dies, and left Mr. Archer to the enjoy- ment of all Sir James's self-satisfied gran- deur. It was now too late and dusky to pro- pose a general stroll in the garden, although the air was mild and serene. Mrs. Neville, however, scrupled not to encounter the dews of evening, and asked Mrs. Everley if she would venture to accompany her. She readity consented -, at her desire I joined the party ; and throwing on our shawls, we sallied forth. The moment she thought herself fairly out of hearing — " Oh heavens !" exclaimed Mrs. Neville, " what a disgusting torrent of arrogant impertinence are we at length released from ! Do not be angry with me, Miss Lesmore ; but I shall die if I do not give vent to some of my spite against that odious Sir James f" " O pray," said I, laughing, " make no 17* stranger of me ! I have not the least desire to become his champion." u No, you cannot have so bad a taste : but I thought you might internally accuse me of flippancy and indiscretion for avow- ing my opinion of him so openly. I will tell you a secret, my dear Miss Lesmore : I am half afraid of you; and as the sensa- tion is by no means pleasant, it has some- times been accompanied by a determination to dislike you. Before I finally resolve upon so desperate an expedient, tell me whether it is quite impossible to soften your heart, and gain humble admittance into some one of its little unoccupied recesses ?" The irresistible frankness and good-hu- mour of this speech quite disarmed me, and thawed all the frostiness of my disposition towards her. I drew- her arm within my own, and holding her hand as w*e pursued our walk, said, fectly calm and still, that we scarcely lost a single note. Gradually and quietly we approached nearer to the house, and stop* ping within a few paces of the windows, which are almost level with the lawn, we 180 stood, lost in shadow, listening to the con- clusion of the song, and looking at the com- pany within. The gentlemen were not yet come out of the dining-parlour ; but near the instrument sat Miss Charlebury, nod- ding her head to mark the time. In sepa- rate parts of the room, leaning back in arm-chairs, and stretching forth their long limbs to their utmost extent, sat the ladies Elizabeth and Catherine Neville, appearing wholly uninterested in what was going for- ward, drowsy and vacant. Madame de St. Hermine had, for a time, left the room, probably wearied of a trio which poor Ge- raldine was under the necessity of endea- vouring to entertain. As soon as her air concluded, she arose, and resigned her place to Miss Charlebury, saying, " I am now authorized to ask for the pleasure of hearing you, since your de- claration that you would not be the first to sing, I hope implied that you would not refuse to be the second." i4 O. pray do not urge me just now ! My 181 voice would sound shockingly so soon after yours ! Let me only play to you at pre- sent." " You shall do exactly as you please " said Geraldine, " but tell me what music I shall look out for you." " The conceited animal," said Mrs. Ne- ville, in a low voice, " defers singing till she can have an audience of men to admire her!" " I have myself heard her perform," ob- served Mrs. Everley, " and am greatly mis- taken if she wins applause from any of the gentlemen it may be her aim to enchant to- night." During these remarks, the accomplished Arabella was turning over, making diffi- culties, and finding a variety of objections against every composition the patient and good-humoured Geraldine put before her > and, at last, it became so evident that she was determined to avoid playing at all dur- ing the absence of the male part of the company, that the point was given up; and soon after we went in, to afford Ge- 182 raldine what relief we could from so irksome a situation. Then it was that Miss Charlebury regaled us with the notable detail I before men- tioned of her own marvellous instruction and indefatigable application. Mrs. Ever- ley and I tried to listen with as much civil- ity as Geraldine; but Mrs. Neville made not even the attempt: she seated herself apart, upon a low sofa, drew towards her a small table and a light, and with perfect composure begun reading a new review. On the re-appearance of Madame de St. H«ermine tea was ordered, and, very soon after, Mr. Archer and his guests came in. Ferdinand entered last, and Mrs. Neville, singling him out, offered him a place next her. Colonel Courtville drew a chair be- tween Geraldine and me, saying, as he seated himself, " I thought, not long since, t&at I heard the sound of music, stealing o'er my ear like the sweet south That "breathes upon a bank of violets. « Who was the fair harmonist ? afrd w&y 183 have her syren strains so speedily ceased ?" Geraldine smiled, and quietly answered, " I was singing in hopes the example would be followed by Miss Charlebury; but I have not yet succeeded in prevailing upon her to let me hear her." " O, that's very bad, Arabella," cried Sir James, catching the sound of his daugh- ter's name, and therefore listening to the sequel of the speech, " that's very bad in- deed ! You must give us a song; I'll take no denial § you positively must sing, and play us a sonata too !" " Well, papa, when we have done tea, if you desire it, I will." " That's right, that's right. I have no notion of letting people hide their talents in a napkin. You have particular reason, child, to rejoice that nature has given you such powers ; for if she had been a niggard to you of those, it is not all the expense I have lavished upon masters that would have enabled you to accomplish what you now do/' Several -remonstrances in a similar strain, 184 addressed to his daughter, but intended to impress upon our minds a due respect for her abilities and his magnificent spirit, passed during tea ; and as soon as it was over, the now tractable and obliging young lady was led to the instrument. My expectations were not high, and in some respects she far surpassed them. She appears to be a pretty good musician, and her execution is brilliant, but her voice is harsh and vulgar-toned ; her expression ex- aggerated, and her bravura passages shrill and desperate. This first specimen of her savoir-faire was crowned with sufficient applause to in- duce her, without hesitation, to proceed to an instrumental piece 5 and with incredible rapidity she dashed and rattled through an extremely difficult concerto, to the joy and exultation of her father, and the amaze- ment and distraction of every body else ! These two successive performances would have amply satisfied the company ; but we were not to be let off upon such easy terms. As soon as the poor piano-forte had received 1$5 its final thump — for she really struck it with the strong hand of a boxer — her father called upon her to play something upon the harp. I trembled for my beloved instrument, but concealed my fears, and suffered Colonel Courtville to bring it from the little quiet recess where it had hitherto been secured from molestation. After tuning a few notes, and actually placing her hands upon the strings, Miss Charlebury seemed suddenly to recollect herself, and called out, cc Papa, do you know Miss Lesmore plays the harp? And, I dare say, a vast deal better than I do : I wish she would take my place." " Does she, my dear," said Sir James, coolly. " Well, I am sure, we shall all be very glad to hear her: but do, child, give us first the favourite air and variations Lord so much admires. You can remember it, I have no doubt. 1 • The fair Arabella made no further oppo- sition; and probably, had her lute, her lyre, and her Spanish guitar been attain- able, would, with equal readiness, when 186 the air and variations ended, have treated us with samples of her skill upon each. Luckily, however, this was not practicable, and no one pressing her to renew her exer- tions upon either of the instruments she had already tried, she was most civilly thanked for the entertainment she had afforded, and a cessation at length ensued 5 for, tired of the very idea of music, neither Geraldine nor I would take the place she resigned. Sir James condescendingly said, he hoped I would, on some future occasion, allow him the pleasure of hearing me : and added, " Young ladies are apt to take fright on hearing another perform a very difficult composition; but I dare say, Miss Les- more, you had no reason for doing so. Be- sides, I assure you, Arabella by no means played her best to night : she is not at all in good practice ; for, what with our ball, what with visits we have been making, and company we have had at home, she has found little or no time for her musical stu- dies. By the way, Mr. Archer, you are going to give a ball, it seems. Faith, I am 187 glad my example takes so well ! And now I think of it, your having a thing of this kind just now, may enable me to be of some little use to you. I had all my co- loured lamps, and various other decorations from town : they are not yet sent back, nor, indeed, to say the truth, do I think it will be worth my while to return them at all. If / make no future use of them, my friends may ; their cost is a matter of no conse- quence to me : and if they can be of any use to you, they are much at your service." " Thank you, Sir James," said Mr. Archer; " if we want them we will apply to you : but I don't think my niece is very fond of coloured lamps ; and this is to be her ball.". " They are the most odious things in the world!" cried Mrs. Neville. " I always think, when I see them, of a lion and a unicorn, a shapeless crown, and a vulgar transparency, on a birth-night, over a shoe- maker's shop!" " And did they bring all these things to your remembrance, madam," said Sir James, 188 much piqued, " the evening you Ijonotired my house with your presence ?" " I really do not recollect ; I never was so stupid at a ball in my life/' Sir James seemed to be considering what answer, at once decently civil and comfort- ably spiteful, he should make to this speech. Time, however, was not allowed him to settle the point; for Geraldine, to give a different direction to his thoughts, proposed a pool of commerce, to which most of the party present consented. The Charleburys were the first who de- parted, their house-being the most distant, and the road to it so bad, part of the way, that the horses are obliged to proceed upon it at a mere foot-pace. The short time spent with us afterwards by the rest of the company was extremely pleasant. Mrs. Neville inquired whether we had read Adele de Senange, and dis- covered her favourite passage ? She was much gratified to find we coincided in opi- nion with her so well ; showed the utmost kindness and attention to Geraldine; im- 189 proved her acquaintance with the elegant Madame de St. Hermine; and, as the moment drew near for ordering her car- riage, said, " Before I go, my dear Miss Fauconberg, will you consent to give me one little simple air ; a Venetian ballad, for instance, or any thing else you like better,' by way of sweetening my mouth, after the nausea occasioned by the loud and coarse screaming of the accomplished Arabella?'* We all joined in this request, and Ge- raldine, laughing at the strange manner in which it was made, complied without dif- ficulty. She sung one of Millico's well- known canzonets with such taste and feel- ing, that Mrs. Neville, quite enchanted, kissed her cheek when she arose, and, in the following quotation from an elegant Italian poet, at once applauded and thanked her : — " Ne decider lieve fia u Alia debil mente mia " Se facesse in me piu incanto " II tuo volto, od il tuo canto." Geraldine could not be insensible to 190 praise so flattering, proceeding from the lips of a woman she so greatly admires. Ferdinand's eyes sparkled with undissem- bled pleasure ; and Mr. Everley seizing the opportunity for a poetical impromptu, the idea of which, however, was furnished by the Italian author, addressed the fair mu- sician in these lines — Judgement suspended holds our choice Where nature's partial bounty show'rs Such gifts of beauty, charms of voice, As beggar our descriptive pow'rs : — If love the preference gives to grace, Taste claims for song the noblest place ! This little extemporary production met with all the applause its unstudied readi- ness deserved. Mrs. Neville appointed its author poet in ordinary to the female part of the company present 5 desired, very speedily, to see some composition addressed to herself; and then, perceiving that Mrs. Everley was preparing to depart, took the hint, and rung for her own carnage. Thus, my dear Augusta, by means of an immoderately long letter, have I brought 191 you to the conclusion of our dinner-party. May you, in reading it, experience less weariness than, during some portion of the day, I endured myself. Adieu. Ever affectionately yours, Julia Lesmore. 192 LETTER XV. FERDINAND LESMORE, ESQ. TO THE REV. ARCHIBALD NEWENDEN. Highgrove Park, My dear Sir, Sept. 19. The day approaches which I had fixed upon for beginning my journey from hence tb your house. Instead of your expected pupil, however, you will receive this letter ; and, I flatter myself, experience some dis- appointment at the substitution. A request from Mr. Archer to prolong my stay, on an occasion I could not easily decline, must account to you for this change in my plans. But how shall I account for my late silence, or for the concise and unsatisfactory tenour of my last letter ? Believe me, it has been my wish to confide in you as unreservedly as at any period of my life : but a weak and unworthy sentiment of false shame ; re- luctance to acknowledge a past error ; these 193 have been the hitherto insurmountable ob- stacles to my accustomed sincerity. I have, at length, determined to conquer such ir- rational pride, and to open to you my whole heart. What a change has that wayward heart undergone, since, with such unfounded prejudice and asperity, I declaimed against the alliance projected for me by my family ! Let me frankly own it* my respected friend ; in the character and manners of the lady who was destined for me, I have disco- vered, too late, perhaps, for my happiness, all that in the most visionary and romantic moments of my life, I ever pictured to my imagination of good, generous, feeling, and sincere ! — an understanding refined, but not enervated, by cultivation ; a sagacity tem- pered with indulgence ; a strength of mind blended with softness and modesty; an in- genuousness the most bewitching, and a temper of such cheerful equanimity, such conciliating gentleness, that where she did not find content, she would produce it ! — To the period when I presumptuously vol. I. K 194 slighted such a creature, I now look back with the profoundest amazement, almost with incredulity ! To a panegyric so earnest, yet so just, all I have to add will give you pain. It will grieve you to hear that I have rendered myself to this most amiable girl an object, if not of dislike, at least of fixed and total indifference. At first, my own repulsive manners disconcerted, and, I am ashamed to add, intimidated her ; but from the mo- ment she overcame sensations so arrogantly excited, and resumed her wonted ease and composure, she ceased entirely to think of me. I have nothing to complain of, though so much to lament; since, on no occasion, did she ever cast upon me an ungracious look, or address to me a mortifying expres- sion. The fact is, she does not address me at all ! If I am near her, she endures it pa- tiently ; for whilst I am silent, she seems not aware of the vicinity. If I speak to her, she answers with mildness and courtesy ; but scrupulously avoids saying more than is indispensably necessary, or ever being the 195 first to begin a conversation. I purposely devise pretences for soliciting little acts of civility from her ; such as the loan of a book, the gift of a pencil, and many other trifles, which, in reality, I only wish for or value because they have once been in her possession. These she is ever ready to grant with equal politeness and alacrity ; but the boon once bestowed, she is gone before I have even time to thank her ! Humbled and depressed by a conduct so dignified, so consistent, yet so uncommon,. I lose all courage to attempt engaging her attention; without designing it, she sub- dues and dispirits me. Every hour, some unsuspected talent, some new proof of the kindness of her affectionate heart, some new grace, rivets the chain by which she so unconsciously binds me. Yet still to her I appear but as a stem and arrogant cen- sor. What a light to be considered in by a lovely young woman, herself all vivacity and animation ; in the full tide of health and jocund spirits ; caressed and adored by all who approach her ; and reared ill the 196 very sun-shine of approving indulgence ! Is it matter of wonder, the contrast so striking between what she considers me, and what she has ever been accustomed to behold in those who surround her, that she should conceive of my temper and disposition an opinion the most prejudicial to my future interests ? That my dear, misjudging mother had but foreborn communicating to me the fa- vourite project of her heart ! Seeing Miss Fauconberg for the first time, merely as a distant relation, as the friend of my three sisters, and the eleve of Madame de St. Hermine, I am certain I should have been enchanted by her ; but urged, persecuted for many months past to visit this spot, for the. sole purpose of beholding the long- cried-up idol of all their hearts; of teaching myself to fall in love with her ; of making advances towards a connexion which was at once to unite two estates formerly in the possession of the same proprietor, and two people scarcely less than total strangers to each other; I own that my compliance 197 was attended with a degree of repugnance amounting almost to disgust ; and sickened of the very mention of female accomplish- ments, detesting the idea of a mere marriage of interest, I came hither prepared to view the wealthy heiress with disapproving eyes, and very little solicitous to render myself to her any other than an object of recipro- cal antipathy. I must acknowledge, likewise, that at the time I am speaking of, Mrs. Neville held a very high place, if not in my heart, at least in my imagination. Indeed, I still think her one of the most agreeable women I know : but the period is passed when, wish- ing only that some traits in her character were softened, I might, as to a blessing, aspire to the honour of her good opinion. No change in Mrs. Neville could now make me happy in the prospect of a union with her: the change in myself has eradicated all former impressions, and thrown into the hands of Geraldine Fauconberg the sole power of rendering me fortunate or wretched. I am now come to the conclusion of my 198 penitential confession. You are the first, my dear ghostly father, to whom pride of heart has permitted me to make it. While Miss Fauconberg continues to manifest to- wards me an indifference so mortifying, 1 cannot prevail upon myself to acknowledge my sentiments for her, even to my sister Julia. Madame de St. x Hermine, unre- served upon most other topics, has uni- formly preserved the strictest silence, when conversing with me, concerning her beau- tiful pupil. You will not wonder that this should have been still more scrupulously the case with Mr. Archer. Here let me terminate this letter 5 assur- ing you, that my purposed visit, though deferred, is not relinquished. I will write again as soon as I can fix a day for setting out. Believe me, my dear and honoured friend, your grateful and affectionate Ferdinand Lesmohe. 199 LETTER XVI. MISS LESMORE TO MRS. LUMlJiY Highgrove Park, My dear Augusta, Sept. 22. Ferdinand dined yesterday at Mrs, Neville's, to meet Lord Litchmere, the brother of her two guests, with whom he was already well acquainted, and who, this morning, rode over here with one of his sisters, and was introduced to all our party. He appears a very sensible young man 3 is perfectly well bred, but somewhat formal and reserved. His stay at Westhill will] be short, as he is only come to fetch his sisters, who, during their father's absence from home, were permitted to put themselves under the protection of their youthful aunt. The earl is now at his own mansion again 5 and his daughters only defer their return to^ him till the ball at this house is over. 200 Mrs. Neville, the day before my brother dined there, apologized for not including the whole family in her invitation, but gave no reason for the omission. Preparations are making here for our fete, and much pleasant bustle is going for- ward. Sir James Charlebury's coloured lamps have not been applied for : our chief decorations will consist of flowers and green- house plants. Geraldine and I are already deeply engaged : several officers of Colonel Courtville's regiment, men of family and fashion, are invited 5 and we anticipate the gaities of the evening with great delight. Sept. £3. At the distance of about seven mites from hence there is a fine stately old man- sion, belonging to a nobleman now absent on a tour to the lakes. It contains an ex- cellent collection of pictures ; and a party, consisting of Mrs. Neville and her three guests, Mrs. Everley, Colonel Courtville, and ourselves, was formed this morning to 201 go and see it. Various were the convey- ances by which we chose to transport our- selves thither. Mr|. Archer and Madame de St. Hermine preferred being rowed down the river in the pleasure-boat, the house to which we were going being situated within a quarter of a mile of its banks ; and Lady Catherine Neville, as well as Mrs. Everley, begged to accompany them. Col. Court- ville drove Lord Litchmere in his curricle, and Mrs. Neville took Lady Elizabeth into hers. Geraldine, Lesmore, and I went on horseback. Those who were upon terra k firma kept together as much as possible. We were all in excellent spirits, the day was beautiful, and nothing eould be more picturesque than some parts of the road we had to pass. Men, women, and children ran to their cottage doors to see the gay cavalcade; and many of the company liberally distributed the contents of their purses amongst the neediest looking of these humble spectators. At length we reached the spot appointed for our place of general rendezvous; a K5 202 shady part of the road, on the edge of the river. Here we alighted to wait for our friends in the boat, ordering the servants to go forward to Lord B 's house with the carriages and horses : and here, as we were laughing, talking, and sauntering under the trees, a feeble, but heart-rending moan, suddenly struck our ears. We started — ■ all became silent — and with one consent stopped, and cast our inquiring eyes around. In vain, however ; we saw nothing but the river on one side the road, the hedge and trees on the other. "What could that be?" Mrs. Neville at length ventured to say. " Some unhappy creature in distress," answered Geraldine, in an accent of com- miseration. The moans were at that instant distinctly heard again ; and every body now declared that they proceeded from the field on the other side of the hedge." " Let us call back one of the servants to go and see what it is," ^said Lady Eliza- beth. 203 " Let us go ourselves !" cried the active and humane Geraldine. Saying this, she flew to a gate, some way higher up the lane-, which opened into the field, and, with the assistance of Ferdinand* who was the first to hasten after her, turn^ ing it on its crazy and half-demolished hing- es, forced her slender figure through it, and was out of sight in a moment : Les* more, to save time, let it fall back when she had passed, sprung over it, and disap* peared in his turn. Animated by their ex- ample, we all proceeded to the same spot j our two remaining gentlemen contrived to fasten the gate securely back, and we ad* vanced, in a body, along the side of the hedge towards the place where we saw Ge^ raldine and my brother standing. When we joined them, how deplorable a spectacle presented itself to our eyes ! Stretched upon the earth at their feet lay an emaciated, bruised, and half-naked ne- gro, apparently bereft of sense, and in the laet faint convulsions of expiring misery i 204 A low, but general exclamation of pity and horror was heard from every mouth. " Unfortunate creature L" cried Mrs. Ne- ville, " is he dead?" " No ;" answered Geraldine, who, during this time, had taken one of his hands, and tried to discover whether any pulse re- mained, " he still breathes ; he may yet, perhaps, recover. There is a basket of re- freshments in one of the curricles; if we had it here, a little wine might revive him." Ferdinand took the hint, and darted back into the lane, in pursuit of the servants and the basket. No one was provided with a smelling-bottle to hold to the poor wretch : but Geraldine, kneeling beside him, regard- less of his squalid and loathsome appear- ance, alternately chafed his temples and rubbed his hands ; and before my brother re-appeared, the languid sufferer half opened his glazed and heavy eyes, and made an in- effectual effort to speak. The joy that shone upon the countenance of Geraldine* on witnessing these signs of re-animation. 205 is not to be expressed. It redoubled her zeal and anxiety in his behalf; and when Ferdinand brought the little basket of pro- visions, they mutually exerted themselves to make the famished negro swallow a few drops of the wine it so^ fortunately con- tained. I wish I could describe to you the vari- ous expressions that appeared upon the countenances of the rest of the party, whilst standing in a circle round the charitable pair, watching this uncommon scene. Lord Litchmere, more than usually serious, con- templated the transaction with the sort of meditative attention with which, I can imagine, a philosopher would regard a phe- nomenon in nature* His sister, Lady Eli- zabeth, looked disgusted and supercilious ; Colonel Courtville seemed good-naturedly concerned for the grievous state of the help- less stranger ; and Mrs. Neville, always en- thusiastic in her feelings, gazed on Ge- raldine with a species of reverential admi- ration ; watched all her movements with 206 approving delight; and when, at length, the party from the boat, guided by the sound of our voices entered the field, ran up to Madame de St. Hermine, exclaiming — " Oh, how touching a lesson of humanity have we been taught 1 Come, dear madam, and behold, proudly behold, the child of your well-rewarded care, performing, with pious tenderness, the lowest offices of cha- rity and benevolence !" Madame de St. Hermine, much surprised, hastily advanced, and reached her pupil, just in time to see the grateful negro, now a little revived, fix his dim eyes upon the fair creature to whose exertions he was in- debted for returning life, clasp his shrunk hands together, and burst into a passion of tears ! "Who is this poor distressed being ?" inquired Mr. Archer, much struck by the apparent fervour of his sensibility. We told him all we knew upon the sub- ject ; and Geraldine rising, and approach- ing her uncle with an air of irresistible en- 207 treaty, besought him to give directions for having the poor man removed to some place where he might be sheltered and taken care of. " Certainly, my love : we will have him put into the boat, which will be the gen- tlest mode of conveyance, and carried to Highgrove Park. There are rooms over the stables, one of which he may occupy, till we see what is fittest to be done with him." Geraldine kissed her uncle's hand in token of acknowledgement. Then returning to her reviving charge, she listened and tried to understand the broken account which, in faint accents, and bad English, he was endeavouring to give of himself to Ferdi- nand. He came, he said, from one of the West India islands, with an English merchant and his family. When within sight of the British coast, a furious storm arose, and they were wrecked. After keeping himself afloat a considerable time, by dint of swim- ming, this poor creature had the good 208 fortune to catch hold of a plank, by which he held fast, till driven with great force against the shore. The waves followed, and threw him out to sea again ; and this happened repeatedly : but, at last, he made good his footing upon a ledge of rock, and there remained in security till the morning dawned. All traces of the vessel had by that time disappeared; no boat came in sight ; he was destitute of provisions, and so situated, that he could neither, with any prospect of succeeding, attempt climbing higher up the rock, nor descend without meeting inevitable destruction in the ocean. Half dead with fatigue, cold, and hunger, he maintained his dreadful post a whole day and a second night. The following morning, impelled by famine and despair, he resolved upon making one vehement ef- fort to ascend the rock, aware that, if he failed or fell, he could only die, and die he must if he remained. After the most toil- some and perilous struggle, he finally ef- fected his purpose : but the summit of the cliff presented nothing more consolatory to 209 his view than an almost barren plain, a sort of down, on which a few sheep found a scanty pasturage. He walked slowly on, till evening overtook him, and then reached a wheat field, where he appeased the crav- ings of hunger with the grain supplied by a few ears of corn. He slept under the shelter of a hedge, and in the morning re- sumed his weary way. At a cottage which he passed, he begged a little bread ; but those to whom he applied were children, who, frightened at his colour and haggard looks, ran away. Soon after, he went up to a farm-house, whence, however, he was driven by a fierce dog, who growled and barked so surlily, he ventured not to remain in his vicinity. Nearly spent with inani- tion and excessive lassitude, he walked on as long as his feeble remnant of strength would permit him, and at last fell down, quite exhausted, in the field where we found him; and " where," he added, looking at Geraldine and Lesmore, u good angels come and help me !" This story, related in worse English than srio I could repeat it, bore an air of probability, and increased the interest already excited by its friendless hero. Exhausted, how- ever, by the effort of speaking so long, he seemed nearly fainting when he came to its conclusion. Fresh nourishment was, ad- ministered to him; and, after some time, the plan of removing him to the house where his u good angels" lived, was com- municated to him. He humbly and thank- fully acquiesced. The servants were called, and we saw him gently conveyed to the water side, and placed upon some hay, pro- cured for the purpose, on the floor of the boat. Mr. Archer gave the necessary or- ders concerning him, and likewise directed his carriage to be brought, as a substitute for the vehicle with which he was parting. As soon as we quitted the banks of the river, to begin our walk to the mansion of Lord B , Geraldine, taking her uncle's arm, outstripped the rest of the party, and left us at liberty to make what comments we pleased on the transaction we had wit- nessed. Mrs. Neville was eloquent in her 211 praise, and regretted much that Madame de St. Hermine and Mrs. Everley had missed the sight of such active and useful benefi- cence. " Certainly what she did was very good," cried Lady Elizabeth, " but still I would not have had her go so near him, or touch him with so little caution; for, really, a more filthy looking object I never beheld !" "The greater her merit !" cried Lord Litchmere. " We had sent away the ser- vants ; the man appeared at the last gasp. Money in this case would have been of no avail ; nothing but immediate personal suc- cour could have saved him ; and such was the promptitude and unaffected zeal with which Miss Fauconberg administered it, that I think with you, Mrs. Neville, there never was a more affecting scene V 9 This was spoken with an animation I should not have expected from Lord Litch- mere, and warmly assented to by Colonel Courtville, who added — " The lively conversation, and gay coun- tenance of Miss Fauconberg, had not led 212 me to expect from her so much thought and feeling." " I begin to be of opinion," cried Mrs. Neville, " that there is no recipe for gaiety, real gaiety of heart, equal in efficacy to the one with which nature and education have furnished her — a sincere, practical disdain of selfishness ! We see what she is capable of doing in the cause of humanity ; how tenderly she sympathizes in the miseries of the lowest of her fellow- beings; yet cheer- fulness seems to be the habitual disposition of her well-regulated mind. We think, when beholding her decked in smiles^ and sparkling with animation, that no change in that blooming and ingenuous counte- nance could be to its advantage : see her but in generous sorrow for another's suffer* ings, and she must forcibly remind all who have ever read it, of that truly beautiful passage in one of Richardson's works, where, speaking of some favourite character, he says, " The features of her lovely face, and the turn of her fine eye, are cast for pity ! n The expression is, indeed, singularly de- 213 seriptive, and was thought by more than one of the party, admirably appropriate to our dear Geraldine: but Madame de St. Hermine, without seeking to undervalue her pupil's merit, besought Mrs. Neville to forbear such zealous encomiums in Miss Fauconberg's presence. " I do not," she added, " fear her be- coming vain ; but praise so fervent will dis- tress her, and lead her to apprehend she was too public in her benevolence/ ' " And would you, my dear madam, from the fear of observation, have her shrink from doing what she thinks right ?" u No, certainly ; but I would wish her friends not to remind her of the notice she has attracted. It might, on a future oc- casion, induce her to hesitate incurring it ; or give to her, while performing an act of duty, a conscious and painful sensation, too much allied to the apprehension of be- ing thought singular or ostentatious.' * " Ah, no! The general simplicity of her manners will exempt her from all such in- jurious imputations ! But I subscribe im- 214 plicitly to your recommendations of forbear- ance 5 since, for the world, I would not cause her one moment's uneasiness or em- barrassment." We were by this time arrived in sight of the magnificent edifice to which our curi- osity had guided us. Mr. Archer and Ge- raldine were waiting for us beneath a noble portico, and proceeded with us through all the principal apartments. It was with this as with every great col- lection of pictures I have seen. To one good, there were ten moderate or unpl eas- ing ones. Upon the whole, however, we were extremely gratified; and after taking, on quitting the house, a hasty survey of the garden and pleasure grounds, we re- mounted, some their horses, and some their carriages, and went home to a late dinner. The poor negro, we had the satisfaction of hearing, had arrived safely, a consider- able time before our return, and been im- mediately put to bed. Proper nourishment had since been given to him, and he had fallen into a refreshing and tranquil sleep. I sin- c 2\5 cerely hope this pitiable object of Gerald- ine's attentive care will recover and live, to reward and gladden her excellent heart. She is as anxious for his accommodation and good treatment as if he were a friend ; and, I doubt not, he will invariably meet with both ; for though the servants all think with disgust and aversion of a Black-a-moor, they all adore their young mistress, and will strive with each other who shall show him most kindness, for her sake. Ferdinand, in speaking of her to me, calls her " the good Samaritan." But what do you think the wretch says of Lady Elizabeth Neville ? " She is in a very secure and comfortable predicament. She can never be condemned in the next world — for she has no soul !" Sept. 25, OUR ball is over, my dear Augusta; but in the account I have to give of it, I doubt not I shall make you as angry with Les- more as I am myself. Before I close this letter, however, I hope to obtain some pal- liating explanation of his extraordinary pro- 216 ceedings. At present they are enveloped in mystery, and wear a most unfavourable aspect. Yesterday evening, about half an hour before the company began to assemble, Madame de St. Hermine, to whom Ge- raldine and I, when we were ready, went to show ourselves in our dancing dresses, observed that we each wanted, as a finish to our appearance, an elegant little nose- gay. " I saw to-day in the flower-garden," she added, " several china-rose trees in bloom ; let one of the men go and gather what you want." " They are all so busy," cried Geraldine, « that w,e had better go ourselves: come, Julia, the moon will light us." Saying this, she took me by the arm, and we descended into the garden together, helped ourselves to the flowers, and then, finding the air keener than we expected, returned to the house by a shorter way, which led us close to the offices. The door of the housekeeper's room was open as we passed it, and accidentally look- 91? ing in, we perceived a young country-wo- man, in a bonnet and cloak, sitting near the table, and apparently crying. Gerald- ine observing tha f there was nobody else in the apartment, except a little boy, who seemed to belong to the stranger, stepped in to inquire vhat was the matter ? I fol- lowed her; and when the youthful female raised her head, immediately knew her to be the same pretty girl I had lately seen at church, and once before at the farm-house. She stood up as we approached her, and made an humble courtesy, " Are you waiting to speak to Mrs. Pres- cot?" said Geraldine, addressing her with great gentleness. " No, ma'am, I have seen her already/' " I am afraid you are in some dis- tress. Tell me, would you wish to see Mr. Archer ?" Again the girl court'sied, and, with tears in her eyes, answered — " No, ma'am, thank you — I only desire to see— to speak three words with Mr. Les- more. Mrs. Prescot has been so good as VOL. I. L 218 to send up to tell him I am here, and per- haps he will condescend to come down a moment." As she uttered this last sentence, we heard the approaching step of my brother, who, before we could retreat, entered the room. He advanced hastily towards his suspi* cious visitor, saying, with an air of interest and concern, " Why, my poor Mary, what brings you here at this late hour of the evening ?" We waited not to hear Mary's reply, but directed our step:: towards the part of the house inhabited by the family. I hardly knew what to say upon so odd an occurrence ; yet, not choosing to leave Geraldine to her own reflections, I at last made some common-place remark upon the •^irl's neat and modest appearance. " Poor thing!" said Geraldine, " I fear she has got into some grievous difficulty !" Madame de St. Hermine at that moment joining us, we changed the subject, put on our flowers, and amused ourselves with £19 conjecturing who, amongst all those that were invited, was likely to arrive first. In the midst of this edifying conversa- tion, Ferdinand, with a look of some dis- composure, appeared at the door, and, after a, few moments' hesitation, stepped up to Geraldine : " I am under the very painful necessity, Miss Fauconberg," said he, '" of denying myself the pleasure of spending the early part of this evening at home, and, conse- quently, of relinquishing the honour of dancing with you. May I, however, hope, you will make my excuses to Mr. Archer, and extend to me your own forgiveness ?" " And pray, Ferdinand," cried I, more angry than I ever felt with any body in my life, " what is your motive for all this ?" * I cannot be explicit at this moment : I am going upon an affair which requires the utmost dispatch, and have only time to re- peat my entreaties for Miss Fauconberg's indulgence, and to assure her that I never made a sacrifice which cost me more." Geraldine, with great sweetness, expressed mo her concern at losing him ; most readily ac- corded the pardon he solicited, and ven- tured to promise him equal lenity from her uncle. and, with all the qualifying varnish I could throw over it, I told the awkward truth : that is, I gave information of his absence, and spoke pathetically of the regret with which he departed; but very carefully L5' 226 avoided mentioning the fair tempter who had seduced him to the deed. Yet, notwithstanding the pains I took to soften the intelligence, I could perceive that it affected Mr. Archer in a very un- pleasant manner. Obvious as was his dis- pleasure, however, it exceeded not the cha- grin and disappointment betrayed by Mrs. Neville. She asked Madame de St. Her- mine (unwilling, perhaps, to apply to me) a thousand questions concerning Lesmore; and obtaining no satisfactory intelligence, appeared from that moment to lose all in- terest in what was passing around her; re- solutely declined engaging herself to dance; and, after sitting some time at a window apart> followed two or three elderly ladies into an adjoining room, where a few, yet unoccupied, card-tables had been placed. A revolution so sudden, and so ill con- cealed, could not easily escape the obser- vation of Geraldine, who looked after her with an air of regret and concern. She had no leisure, however, to reflect long upon 227 the subject; for Lord Litchmere, informed of my brother's absence, came to request the honour of her hand for the first two, instead of the second two dances. She rea- dily gave it; but not with equal readiness could she be prevailed upon to open the ball. After a short and civil contest be- tween her and Lady. Elizabeth Neville, the latter consented to call the first dance. As the adjustment of this point of eti- quette, and various other delays, had retard- ed the commencement of the ball to a con- siderably later hour than I had expected, I was now in momentary hope of seeing Ferdinand return. My eyes were perpe- tually directed towards the door; and, even when conversing with my partner, Colonel Courtville, I could not forbear turning half round whenever any gentleman passed near me. At length, the Colonel, sensible of the little attention I paid to all the fine things he was saying to me, asked, with a smile, whose arrival I was so anxiously looking for? This question rendered me more circumspect; I evaded answering it 5 2.2 S but struggled to appear less pre-occupied and restless. The dance ended; and another, which, with scarcely any interval, succeeded it, concluded also : but still no Lesmore ap- peared. Provoked nearly as much as Mrs. Neville, I could willingly have joined in a little sullen duet with her; but I was not permitted: a third dance was called, and my new partner, Lord Litchmere, was in a humour so unusually talkative, that I could not disengage myself from him a moment. The theme of his conversation ought to have pleased me, since it was no other than the graces and perfections of Miss Fauconberg : but I am not liberal- minded enough to derive much pleasure from hearing her warmly praised by any young man except my brother. You will smile, Augusta, and suspect, perhaps, that I wish to engross the admiration of all others to myself: if such is your opinion of me, I will not attempt to refute it ; but only say, that Lord Litchmere is one of the last whom I should listen to with satisfac- 229 tion upon this subject, from the persuasion I lie under, that his are not merely empty eulogiums, but that he seriously and pas- sionately admires Geraldine, and may be- come, to our poor Ferdinand, a very for- midable rival. Though grave at first, and somewhat cold and distant, he improves extremely upon acquaintance. In his countenance and appearance there is no- thing striking ; but he looks observant ; his conversation denotes good sense and good nature ; and his manners convey the idea of his being a thorough gentleman. Such a man, could I, without sorrow* resign the prospect of obtaining such a sister, I should most gladly see united to my loved Gerald- ine : but, as long as a spark of hope re- mains of her one day becoming the wife of Ferdinand, I shall never witness the atten- tions of Lord Litchmere without pain ! Whilst I was going down the dance with him, Geraldine found an opportunity to say— " Mr. Lesmore is come back, Julia." — " Is he ? — How did vou hear it ?" 230 cc Mr. Everley saw him just now in the card-room." This answer gave me a pang at heart; and during the remainder of the dance, I could do nothing but picture to myself the snug little flirtation w r hich I concluded was passing between Mrs. Neville and- my bro- ther. My partner speedily discovered an alte- ration in my voice and looks. " Are you fatigued, Miss Lesmore ?" said he. " No, my lord, not with dancing ; but my own thoughts have fatigued me the greatest part of the evening." <( I wish there subsisted more conformity of sentiment between us;" resumed he — " My thoughts never were half so agreeably occupied as they have been during the last two hours !" Then pausing a moment, he presently added — h Will it be permitted here to dance twice with the same partner ? ?> " Indeed, my lord, I know no law against it." 231 Scarcely had I uttered these words, when, as Geraldine followed us down the dance, I heard him to say to her, ?f Have you a long list of engagements for the rest of the evening, Miss Faucon- berg ?" " No, my lord; only for the next two dances." He could say no more just then; but seizing eagerly the next opportunity of speaking to her, he obtained from her a promise that she would stand up with him again after supper. My ill-humour was wrought up to its full climax by this arrangement, which threat- ened completely to exclude Lesmore from all chance of recovering his once-forfeited partner, and I scarcely could prevail upon myself to speak another word whilst the dance lasted. But Lord Litchmere was too happy to regard my taciturnity. His eye-s followed Geraldine in every direction; not a step, not a movement of hers escaped him : and an expression of unsuppressed delight 232 brightened his countenance whenever the figure of the dance brought them together. Meanwhile Colonel Courtville, who had succeeded him as the partner of the fair lady of his affection, w T as doing the best he could, by flattery and insinuation, to win her to himself. He » looked ' unutterable things;* now smiled, now languished ; and performed to perfection the character of an enamoured and dying swain. AH" this I beheld with the most complete indifference : he cannot, I am well assured, be the kind of man Geraldine would ever approve : but judge my surprise, when, on casting a glance towards the card-room door, I at length be- held Ferdinand, leaning against its side, looking earnestly and gravely at Geraldine,. and scarcely appearing to hear, or to know how he answered, the lively observations addressed to him, from time to time, by Mrs. Neville, who stood beside him. I per- suaded myself he was jealous of the colonel, and the suspicion made me ample amends for all the vexation I had endured through- 233 out the evening! — But, jealous of the vapid Colonel Courtville ! — Is such an infatuation to be pardoned ? When we were returning to our seats, I saw Lesmore approach Geraldine, whom he detained several minutes in conversation. She looked at him as serenely, and answered him as cheerfully, as if she had every reason in the world to be satisfied with his conduct. Not equally placid did he appear, when, their little dialogue ended, she proceeded to a vacant chair next mine. 1 was curious to know what had passed, and she readily informed me. cc Your brother wished me to dance with him 5 and when I acquainted him with my two present engagements, seemed to think that by the time they were over, the com-; pany would be dispersing." " And was he pleased to murmur r" * f No; but he professed great concern : and, as in gratitude bound, I returned the compliment, and declared myself equally chagrined." This light manner of speaking of what 234 was, perhaps, to him a serious disappoint- ment, would not have been very gratifying to poor Ferdinand's vanity : but Geraldine seems not to have a suspicion that he has, in any thing which relates to her, the small- est decree of feeling-. Soon after, we were joined by Mr. Archer. "Well," said he, addressing me, "your brother has been making a thousand apolo- gies for so suddenly -absconding, and pro- mises to clear up the whole mystery to us to-morrow. A long story is connected with it, which there is now no opportunity of relating." Then, turning to Geraldine — " It is past one o'clock," said he, " and we shall pre- sently go to supper. Who do you dance with, my dear, afterwards ?" , " With Mr. Charlebury, and Lord Litch- mere." Ci Lord Litchmere ? Why, he has been your partner already." " It is very true, my dear uncle; but he asked me again, and I did not know upon what plea to refuse him." 235 Mr. Archer said no more ; but I thought he looked good-naturedly vexed that Ferdi- nand was thus deprived of the prospect of obtaining her hand. In our way to the supper-room, I saw, peeping through a glass door that opened into the hall, Geraldine's protege, the poor Negro, creditably equipped in a livery-suit lent him by one of the servants ; and watch- ing the ladies as they passed, with the most eager attention. When Geratdine, without observing him, drew near his hiding place, Jiis countenance kindled up into an expres- sion of joy amounting almost to rapture! The lamp which depended from the cieling of the hall, cast a strong light upon his large uplifted eyes; and his lips moved, as if invoking blessings upon the head of his lovely preserver. I was sensibly touched by this quiet testimony of heartfelt grati- tude, and, waiting till every body had pass- ed me, approached the window behind which he was stationed. On perceiving me advance, he was hastily retiring: but- nod- ding to encourage him, I half opened the 236 door, and inquiring after his health, ex- pressed some concern to see him up at so late an hour. " No hurt me, lady," said he, "to come and look at good angel. Hear the music all the evening, and begged so hard just for one peep, they lend me clothes, and put me in this passage." ** You knew your kind friend again, di- rectly, I saw." "Know her!— Ah lady! Caesar never speak, never think, never dream of any thing but good angel, ever since she save his life ! " The tears glistened in the honest crea- ture's eyes whilst he spoke, and I felt my own beginning to start. " Good night, Caesar," cried I. — " If you like to stay here a little longer, I will send you a glass of wine." " No, thank you, lady; — good night." He then withdrew, and I repaired to the gay party in the supper room." I found an unoccupied seat near Mr. Archer, and while every body was talking- 237 round us, related to him, without being overheard, the little dialogue in which I had j,ust been engaged. "Poor fellow!" cried my benevolent auditor, " he shows a wonderfully grateful disposition. I must try and put him in some way of obtaining an honest main- tenance. Is he young or old ? What does he seem fit for ? " - " I had not a very distinct view of him in that obscure passage; but I think he looked young." Mr. Archer then said he would have a little conversation with him the next day ; and if any scheme could be suggested to his advantage, he should be anxious to pro- mote it, were it only to gratify his compas- sionate Geraldine. Mrs. Neville, during supper, I observed, entirely recovered her good-humour; and with admirable address divided her attention between her two neighbours, Col. Court- ville, and my brother; that is to say, she accepted the ever-ready homage of the 238 former ; whilst, with more seriousness, she condescended to court the attention of Fer- dinand. * Lord Litchmere, meanwhile, had the good fortune of engrossing, almost ex- clusively, the conversation of our fair friend, and looked the happiest of men. At whose suggestion I know not, for amidst the hum of so many voices, it is dif- ficult to distinguish one speaker from ano- ther, but, at the very moment I thought we were going to rise from table, Mr. and Miss Charlebuiy, and a lady who sat near them, suddenly burst forth into a loud glee. This was succeeded by another, and that by a third; and perhaps the good people might have been singing now, had not Mr. Archer civilly* but frankly interfered. — " Ladies and gentlemen," cried he, " if any of you are so tasteless as to prefer dancing to singing, I advise you to return into the ball-room, and make the best of your time. As for Sir James and myself, and a few more who have less activity in our legs than c music in our souls,' we will 239 stay and listen to these delightful harmo- nists as long as they have. a note to bestow upon us." There was an almost universal rising up, on hearing words so friendly, I believe, to the general wish: the crowd and pressure at the door of the supper-room was truly ri- diculous, As if instigated by one spirit, they all seemed eager to avoid, what some amongst them, perhaps would with less fa- stidious companions) have anxiously sought to obtain. But so it is, I have often heard it remarked, in all ranks of life; people fly to or from an amusement according as they behold the majority press forward or retreat: the greater the bustle and the rush, the greater, of course, must be the triumph of escaping from what is bad, or gaining access to what is good. The various exclamations of the young ladies when we reached the hall, were equally entertaining: — " Dear, I am so glad to have got away !" cried one. " And I was so horridly tired!" cried another, " And I do so hate glees!" added a third. " And,. 240