, > N. --r r T f ^- >K h i%\ .J^ THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY &23 H76 SAYINGS AND DOINGS ; OK SKETCHES FROM LIFE. THIRD SERIES. Full of wise saws and modern instances. Shakspeare. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, 1828. ^%3 ADVERTISEMENT. The Author of these Sketches has to plead severe ilhiess as an excuse for many errors (typographical and others) which will doubt- lessly be found in the following pages. London, January 24, 1828. COUSIN WILLIAM. VOL. r. COUSIN WILLIAM CHAPTER I. -Wilt thou never, Never be weaned from caudles and confections ? What feminine tale hast thou been listening to. Of unaired shirts, catarrhs, and tooth-ache got By thin-soled shoes? OrwAY. "Camomile tea, Mrs. Crosby, if you please," said Mr. Crosby : "I have had five pints of water-gruel since bed-time. — I cannot bear any more." " Just as you choose, my angel," said Mrs. Crosby. '' Caroline dear, run before, and sliut the windows in the breakfast parlour. Your papa is going down."*' B 2 4 COUSIN WILLIAM. Caroline flew to obey her mother's mandate. " lil take a little ether," said Mr. Crosby, " before I go out, for I have had a few slight touches of flying gout- during the night, Mrs. Crosby." " Indeed, my life V said the lady. " I can assure you I have not suff'ered a little myself; an attack of my old peripneumony did not me- liorate the pains of 'my lumbago. Nor am I quite easy about my erysipelas." — " Come, dearest,*" said the invalid husband, '' lend me your arm— ring for Richards to put the pillows in my chair — bring down the book, and let us see what's to be done next."" And in this order of march, proceeded Mr. and Mrs. Crosby to the breakfast parlour, which had been previously hermetically sealed, by the assiduity of Caroline. It was July, the tea-urn steamed upon the talble, the room had a southern aspect, and the sun shone full into it — Mr. Crosby had just taken ether, and his lady had just been rubbed with Steers' opodeldoc. Caroline proceeded to do duty at the breakfast table. " Oh," said Mr. Crosby, as he sat down — «« What a sudden pain at the back of my head." COUSIN WILLIAM. 6 '* Gracious me!" cried Mrs. Crosby, " at the hack of 3'our head, my hfe— a leading symptom of apoplectic tendency." '* And my feet are cold, hot as the weather is," continued Mr. Crosby. " When the extremities are chilled, Caroline," muttered Mrs. Crosby to her daughter-in-law, " the book says, death is approaching." " Yes," said Caroline half smiling, " towards the end of a long and wearing disorder; but not surely in papa's state of health."" " Health, child," exclaim.ed Mr. Crosby, ^' why neither that suffering angel, nor myself, have had half an hour's health since — since — " " Since," interrupted Caroline, " you have devoted yourselves to the study of Doctor Buchan : indeed, indeed, my dear father, that book of fate should not be opened by the world at large." "Tis an admirable book, child," said Mrs. Crosby ; " and although it is the fashion to laugh at it now, it has saved us hundreds of guineas, which we else should have paid to the physicians." ^' And has cost you thousands, which you have 6 COUSIN WILLIAM. paid to the apothecaries," said Caroline. " Only hear what cousin WilUam says about it.*" " Who quotes me?" exclaimed cousin Wil- liam, opening the door. "I," said CaroHne, and her bright eyes sparkled, as her young and elegant cousin made his appearance ; " upon the old subject of that odious book." "What," said the young guardsman, "making fresh war upon the Buchaneers ?''' " Wilham,'' said Mr. Crosby, " you may call us what you please ; but the discovery of our disorders in time, tends to the salvation of the constitution." " Truly so, my dear uncle," said Captain Morley, " provided you do discover them ; but since disorders generally begin with fever, the incipient symptoms of all must naturally more or less resemble each other; and thus fancy, which, like conscience, ' doth make cowards of us all,' ekes out the rest of the prognostics, and we think ourselves suffering under a combination of ills, by which in fact we are not in the slightest degree assailed." " Look at Caroline's cheek, William," said COUSIN WILLIAM. 7 Mrs. Crosby, " what do you think of the flush which you see upon it at this moment ?" " Think," said Morley, " that it rivals the virgin rose." "Oh, WilUani," said Caroline. " There," exclaimed her mother, " see slie flushes still more." " Health, pure health, by the gods," ex- claimed the captain, " heightened by native modesty." " Health,'"' said Mrs. Crosby: " how can you talk such nonsense, William; why the child's pulse are at seventy — health — hectic — are you hot, Caroline ?" " Very hot indeed, mama," said the lovely tea-maker. " No wonder, aunt," said Morley ; " the glass is at ninety-two, in the coruer of the room farthest removed from the influence of the tea- um." " Poor child,'' said Crosby, who was reading Buchan, and drinking Doctor Solander's British infusion, " poor Cary — yes — so it is — my angel is right." " Oh, my dear father," interrupted Caroline, " do not make yourself uneasy about me; I 8 COUSIN WILLIAM. assure you I am in perfect health ; but you make me laugh with your too anxious fears, so that I can hardly eat my breakfast." " Difficulty of swallowing," sighed Mrs. Crosby, " is a most awful symptom." And so if I chose might I indulge my reader with fifty such scenes — fifty such dia- logues, which regularly occurred at meal times, the only periods at ' which the family met ; and so it was, that owing to their addiction to Doctor Buchan, this once happy couple moped and physicked their lives away in a dull house in the dullest part of Cambridge- shire, unenlivened by visitors, whose habits and amusements might, they apprehended, in- terfere with the regimen and medicine abso- lutely necessary, as they thought, to their existence; and secluded from society, arid its innocent gaieties, by the fear either of catching colds, or fevers, or surfeits, or over-feeding, or over-exercising themselves ; nor amongst the other agremens of their seclusion should it be forgotten, that the physic closet was situated at the head of the great staircase, and flavoured the whole internal atmosphere, which never had an opportunity of escaping, except ift- L'OUSIN WILLIAM. deed through the windows of Caroline's boudoir, the only apertures ever open for its egress, after the family were up for the day. Caroline Crosby wasbut sixteen — a fine expres- sive countenance, a graceful and somewhat pre- cociously formed figure, gave her the appearance of more matured age, which physical forward- ness, added to an unembarrassed freedom of manner and off-hand mode of speaking, induced the very few people who by any accident saw her, to wonder at the naivete with which she expressed herself, and the simplicity of the ob- servations which she was in the habit of making. She was kind, generous, frank, and unreserved ; but in her heart of hearts she had one idol — in her mind one standard of all human perfection by which she regulated her opinions and modi- fied her taste — and that was her cousin William, Indeed it was hardly to be wondered at, for such was the retirement of the two malades ima- ginaires whose charge she was, that she seldom, if ever, encountered anybody else. Doctor Micklethwaite, the rector, was a sage it is true, but then he was fat, and old, and deaf — his curate, who resided all the year in the parish, was, it is equally true, young, and thin, but he was B 3 10 COUSIN WILLIAM. unskilled in the ways of the world, — modest, pale, dull, and deep read. From neither of these did she cull much ; and little more was to be gained from Mr. Crosby's attorney, who in a brown scratch wig, green spec- tacles, dingy buckskins, and mahogany-topped jockey boots, was in the habit of dining every now and then, with his client ; a ceremony which if he had not contrived to charge for it, thirteen shillings and four pence, besides chaise-hire, would have hardly repaid him for hearing the joint-stock catalogue of diseases properly in- herent in the Crosby family — he always called Caroline Miss, and drank toasts with every glass of wine which he was permitted consist- ently with his health to imbibe. Contrasted with these, (indeed a comparison with most men would have been advantageous to him,) Caroline was continually associated with her " cousin William," a lieutenant in the Guards, a captain in the army, the Crichton of the day, full of all sorts of talent and accom- plishments, who knew everybody and every- thing in the world ; and was, in short, the most delightful and dangerous personage extant : de- lightful everywhere, but dangerous in particular COUSIN WILLIAM. 11 where by a constant intercourse with a young creature full of intellect and enthusiasm, upon whose volatility none of the more important checks of habitual piety, or the steady cultiva- tion of moral principle, had been imposed, liis influence over his companion became unbounded. Caroline, relieved from an irksome and unne- cessary attendance upon the self-created invalids, bounded with ecstacy from the medicated atmo- sphere of the mock sick chamber to the society of " cousin William,*' who would wander and wander through a long summer's longest twi- light with this tender creature hanging on his arm, lier bright eyes beaming with admiration, her young heart unconsciously throbbing with love. Mr. Crosby was occasionally reminded by Mrs. Crosby that William and Caroline were in the habit of staying out excessively late in the evenings; but all that such intelhgence gave birth to, was, either a fear that night air might give the poor child cold, or a warning to wear clogs when she went out again. Morley at this time, and I am speaking now of two and twenty years since, was just turned two and twenty. As I have said before, Caroline 12 COUSIN WILLIAM. was just sixteen, and had received the rudi- ments of her education at a second-rate board- ing school, to which she had been sent, because its mistress had been formerly governess to the family of the first Mrs. Crosby, for, as the reader has already been informed, the present Mrs. Crosby was Caroline's step-mother. She subsequently was consigned at different times to two or three different bonnes and gouvernantes, who endured as well and as long as they were able, the flavoured climate of Crosby "Hall," but who seceded in disgust themselves, and in dis- grace with the heads of the house, upon positive refusals to permit themselves to be bled, blis- tered, and physicked a la Buchan, while in the enjoyment of perfect health ; after which re- signations, her mother-in-law undertook tojinish Caroline herself, she, the said mother-in-law, happening to know nothing whatever of the world, and who, although she had in the earlier part of their union occasionally indulged herself and her husband with a six weeks visit to London, was about as well versed in " things in general," as the eleven members of the cele- brated club, who, in the year 1818, were quite delighted with the abilities which Mr. Canning displayed one day after the House dinner, of COUSIN WILLIAM. IS which he had accidentally partaken, without having the slightest conception whom their charm- ing and highly -gifted companion was, until en- lightened upon the subject by one of their own waiter's assistants. It may easily be imagined, that to a young ardent creature, like Caroline, whose occupations in her retirement were never regulated by ma- ternal controul, whose amusements, promiscu- ously and irregularly chosen, lay one day in drawing from the antique ; the next in reading the newest and most trifling novel, or perhaps the wildest trash of poetry ; the society of her cousin William was all and everything. Morley himself when tired with the faded bloom of artificial roses, whose mimic lustre was dimmed by the season's wear; and fatigued with gazing on the self same misses night after night labouring their hair out of curl in executinor EnMish dances ; (for at that period the theatrical exhi- bition of quadrilles had not made its appearance in well regulated society, nor the lascivious waltz unblusbingly consigned our virgins to the pro- miscuous embrace of man, in the broad glare of public observation,) and wearied with such heart- less intimacies as are found within the bills of mortality, flew to the unsopliisticated freshness of 14 COUSIN WILLIAM. his single-minded cousin, and flattered by the raptures which even the rusticated child of nature could bestow, sought the fond pressure of her friendly hand, and felt the light weight of her arm entwined in his, as they strolled away the hours together, thrill to his very heart. Morley had flattered and deceived, had flirted where his heart was not concerned, had co- quetted without a' serious thought of the re- sult ; but with Caroline the case was different : they were related, connected, he had known her from a child ; and he loved her, (as well as any man like him can love,) and one kind word from Caroline was to his ear " sweet as the music of the spheres."" But warm and kindly in its nature as his aff'ection for the child might be— how different in its character and attributes was it, to that, which Caroline felt for hirri. Her cousin William had seduced the orphan daughter of a clergyman — her brother called him out— him, cousin William shot — but Caro- line found excuses for him. The artful girl no doubt made love to her cousin, and if her brother zi)ould fight, cousin William must meet him ; and if they met, cousin WiUiam surely ought to defend himself. COUSIX WILLIAM. 15 Morley had lost deeply at play ; but then, as Caroline said, it was when he was underage, and those who won his money absolutely cheated him ; he was beaten in a cause, where the warranty of a horse having been proved, was denied as being hlSf although three witnesses saw him write it ; but then, as Caroline said, the horse was spoiled after cousin William had warranted it, and be- sides, the opposing witnesses were all perjured. jVIorley was desperately involved in debt, and the tradesmen, whose existence and that of their families depended upon payment, were injured by his embarrassments ; but as Caroline said, in the first place, they were exorbitant in their charges ; and, in the second, they ought not to have enticed " cousin William" into buying heaps of things which he did not want. In short, if cousin William had robbed a church, or fired an hospital, Caroline would have discovered some good reason why such acts could by no means reflect the least discredit upon cousin Wilham. It was in the evening of the day on which this narrative commences, that Morley, who had arrived at Crosby Hall the previous night. 16 COUSIN WILLIAM. Strolled through the grounds with this young, and ardent, and artless girl. One of the finest English twihghts imaginable was just yielding to the mild and pallid radiance of the rising moon, (which, if one may judge from novels, seldom fails to shine on lovers) the light breeze scarce ruffled the foliage wliich shaded them, or rippled the stream along whose sedgy bank they strayed, yet was there appa- rent to the longing eye of the love-sick girl a coming storm, which was to blast her happiness, and kill her fondest hopes : she saw it in the abstracted manner, the nervous embarrassment of Morley ; and young and enthusiastic as she was, unused to grief and a stranger to sorrow, she felt a dread she scarce knew why, of break- ing the silence which her else volatile cousin William appeared so unwilling to disturb. * As they suddenly quitted the copse, the moon beamed full on his countenance ; her constant eye was on it, and she saw the animation which generally characterized it supplanted by a look of sorrow ; his brows were contracted, and his eyes uplifted. He knew not that she had seen him thus ; but at the moment he unconsciously COUSIN WILLIAM. 17 and almost convulsively drew her towards him, she felt that she was the object of his thoughts — she felt his heart beat strongly— she felt that she was beloved ; and yet was she spell bound as it were by the timid fear of losing all that made life dear, the dread of dissipating by a word, perhaps, the bright vision that lived in her dreams and filled her waking mind; and she continued to walk by the side of her loved Wil- liam in dread, and in hope, and in silence. " Caroline," said Morley, suddenly, — the sound of his voice startled her. — " It was here, Caroline," said he, stopping beneath a huge spreading oak, " that two years since you gave me a lock of your hair ; — I have worn it next my heart ever since." He paused and seemed greatly agitated. " I — had hoped never to part with it — you must let me now restore it to you, dearest — and where so fit a place, or what so fit a time as this r " William," said Caroline, " why — why is this— are you angry with me — have I offended you ?'' " No, by heaven, no," exclaimed Morley ; " it is / who have offended — it is / who have been mad and wicked." IS COUSIN WILLIAM. " Y'ou must not let me hear you say so, William," said Caroline. " I know, wild as the world calls you, that you are good, and kind, and amiable, generous and humane." Morley burst into an hysteric laugh, more full of horror than the yell of death. " Good — amiable — generous^ — humane, am I ? The hour is come, poor child, when even to T^our eye the truth must be made evident ; first for God's sake take back the gift which I re- ceived from your pure untainted hand, and hear me." He hastily tore the locket from the ribband which suspended it round his neck, and kissing it fervently, gave it to his wretched victim,who stood, pale, cold, and motionless, gazing on his phrenzied conduct in mute but terrible amaze- ment. *' Why," said she, almost unconscious that she was speaking, and perfectly unconscious that she actually held the once valued trinket in her icy hand, — " why is this, Wilham ?" '•' Sweetest," said he, in a subdued tone and more composed manner, " I have laughed at the feelings of women-;— I have scoffed at senti- ment, ridiculed purity, and reviled excellence ; yet now that my follies and vices have debased COUSIN WILLIAM. 19 me, I shrink before your gaze, and feel unworthy even to approach you. Poor Caroline — kind, sweet girl — this is the first moment in which I have ever talked of love to you ; and now I tell you, that you, and you alone, have been the ob- ject of my warmest, undivided affections. In the midst of heartless revelry, a thousand times 1 have closed my eyes upon the passing folly, and seen reflected in the mirror of my mind those charms which now are doomed, I hope, to bless some worthy and deserving man. You sob, Caroline — you w^eep — lean on me. — What ! Caroline, do 2/ou reciprocate these feelings ?"' He paused — but the wretched Caroline was insensible — poor girl, she had fainted — for the first time in her life — she had heard hi?n whom she adored — for whom alone she existed, vir- tually discard her, and saw him practically break the only tangible bond which united them by rejecting her gift ; it was the first pang of grief she had ever experienced, but it was a throb so exquisite, that those whose hearts have never felt like her's, can never understand. Morley laid his hand on her cold forehead — her pulse seemed to have ceased — she breathed not J^O €OUSIN WILLIAM. — at the moment he thought her dead — would to heaven she had been — but that was not to be. The wretched girl recovered. She fixed her bright eyesj swimming in tears, steadily on Wil- liam's face — she pressed his hand fervently be- tween her's — and then, after the lapse of a few seconds, said emphatically, " I can hear all nou\ WiUiam." " Dearest girl," said Morley, himself vio- lently affected, " what you have to hear, is, as far as I am concerned, a plain confession of vice and folly, which have destroyed my property, my expectations, and my happiness. My unfor- tunate addiction to play has dissipated, not only the fortune I possessed, but had excited my father's anger to such a pitch, that inevitable ruin stared me in the face, unless I accepted of an alternative— it was a dreadful one, Caroline — but I have accepted it." " Tell me what at once," said Caroline, the whole truth flashing upon her ; " tell me, Wil- liam, ' is it marriage .^" A dreadful silence gave the affirmative. Caroline saw the reply in the expression of his countenance, for Morley could not speak. COUSIN WILLIAM. 21 " You have accepted it/' said Caroline, gazing vacantly round, as if meditating some immediate, some decisive desperate step. " To the eternal ruin of my happiness," said Morley. '* God forbid," said Caroline : '* no, no, yon must be happy, William— I had thought— but I am very young — I was wrong, all wrong — tell me, tell me— who is it — tell me that I may try to love her for your sake." " Lady Anne Seward is the person," said Morley, "who is to rescue me from destruction." " What," said Caroline, ** your aversion — the object of your hatred— of your ridicule." " I hated her always, Caroline," said Mor- ley, " but more nozv than ever. If I had known how deeply you were interested for me, I " *•• You must have known how dear you were to me," interrupted Caroline ; " I saw no reason for concealment — I never affected it — I — but you have decided — this must — this shall be con- quered." " It might have been otherwise," said Mor- ley, *' and your excellence would have reclaimed 22 COUSIN WILLIAM. me, drawn me from the vortex in which I have been wrecked ; your kind and gentle influence would have corrected my failings, and I should have adored you as my preserver, but — ^" "Yes, William," said Caroline, " I thought so too. Whenever I have heard you characterized as unprincipled — dissipated — libertine, I have fancied that if there were one being who loved you better than herself, whose whole life should be devoted to your comfort, who would make your home but it is all too late to talk of this." And here for the first time flashed into the unsophisticated mind of the young and yet art- less Caroline Crosby, the consciousness of her own fatal error ; for the first time she was made sensible of the fact, that whatever bright visions she had cherished, Morley had (as he said) never talked of love ; all he had now expressed confirmed the justice of his present avowal — if he had known — if he had thought — these were so many conditional qualified references to foregone times — to hours and scenes now irre- vocable. Caroline was unskilled in the world and its COUSIN WILLIAM. 23 ways — but the very innocence of her mind, — pure as it was at that moment, — for want of direction, for want of proper regulation, was even more injurious to her than a better knowledge of society ; for years she had absolutely worshipped her cousin William, and he had delighted in her artless conversation ; but Caroline was poor in wealth ; some ten thousand pounds at her father's death would be the extent of her for- tune ; and although now that he saw a young animated creature, whose cheeks were covered with burning blushes — whose lips faltered — whose limbs trembled — and whose tears fell, while she confessed her hopeless attachment; he felt all the thrilling ardour of youthful animal affection, mixed with that male sentiment^ the pride of conquest, still he tried to justify his past conduct by a reflection that he had paid fifty times as much attention to fifty other girls, who had slept off the remembrance of his devotion without even dreaming of him ; and that although he had felt a warm regard for his cousin, that although he had, as he told lier, closed his eyes upon passing follies to think of her, although he had worn her gift. for years, still it was evident ^4 COUSIN WILLIAM. that it would be madness to persist in such an attachment, considering the smallness of her fortune and his own, that his involvements were serious, and that a ready means presented itself for his emancipation by breaking off the con- nection. In short, the grief and agitation which accompanied the act of returning her '^ gage d'amitie,"' (for so was the locket described in ancient characters upon its face) arose rather from the mortification he felt at being compelled to relinquish the society of one so fond, so true, and artless, than from any sympathy for her sufferings, or regret at the step which he had deliberately decided upon taking. These were, I grieve to say, the feelings of this finished gentleman in this hour of trial: — How widely different from those which agi- tated the heart of his victim, those '''^lio have loved and been deceived can best imagine. How superior, how proudly superior, are the motives and incitements to love, which animate the female heart, to those which fan the meaner, coarser passion of the other sex. Caroline would gaze for hours on the expressive countenance of her graceful cousin, think of COUSIN WILLIAM. 25 him by day, and dream of him by night ; but her's was admiration of the fane, for the sake of the deity it enshrined ; it was his mind, his genius, his talents, his accompHshments, which first gained her young heart, and won her love ; and she would have toiled through a long and arduous life to serve him, to support and cheer him; she would have soothed him in his sorrows; would have vindicated him through good report and evil report; she would have been his help- mate, his comforter, his second self. Arising out of sentiments like these, 'tis true some human feelings had their place ; but with the libertine — for such he was —self predominated — self-love was the passion paramount — self-grati- fication the ruling object: she was innocent, artless, beautiful and young; their natural connection gave him an influence over her, which their frequent intercourse strengthened ; it was delightful to him to be with her — it flattered his vanity to shew the little world round Crosby Hall the sovereign sway which he held over her ; and in the midst of all tliese contending little- nesses rose up that worldly sentiment which at length absorbed him— the gratification of which he now saw, that his own extravagance and VOL. 1. c ^ COUSIN WILLIAM. imprudence had rendered impracticable: it was the relinquishment of all he had pictured to himself of happiness with her, it was the blight of those sensual hopes and anticipations, that caused the violence of exclamation, which Caroline attri- buted to feelings resembling her own ; but long as they had lived together, either of this ill- assorted couple was perfectly ignorant of the other's character : she, poor devoted creature, in the purity of her mind, could not imagine deliberate vice like his; he, the worldly sen- sualist, the practised libertine, was unable to understand or appreciate such love, such virtue, or such innocence as her's. The mischief, however, was done ; the power he possessed was overweaning — the influence he had obtained commanding — and although the dansfer was averted, still But I must not anticipate. The shades of night fell deeply upon the grove in which they strayed, and it was not until they left the covert of the wood, and the moon again glared brightly on her face, that William saw how Caroline had really wept ; she leaned heavily on his arm as they walked homewards, but she spake not ; the burning COUSIN WILLIAM. ^7 blush which had burnt upon her cheeks was gone, and she was pale as death ; she had ceased weeping ; but he could feel, as he drew her towards him, the suppressed sob of silent grief convulsing her whole frame. They had nearly reached the house, when she stopped, and struggling with herself, essayed to speak. '• William,'" said she, pressing his arm trem- blingly, " tell me — when is it to he?''"' The dreadful question, to ask which, all her energies had been rallied, had scarce passed her lips, when her wretchedness again flashed upon her mind, and uttering a heart-rending scream, she again fell senseless in her William's arms. They were near the steps of the portico open- ing to the garden : Morley called for help, and bearing her towards the door, was met by some of the servants; the noise brought Mrs. Crosby- out of her husband's room, w here he had been in bed since eight o'clock, having taken a power- ful dose of Doctor James's powders, accelerated in their operation by three pints of very hot, very weak white wine whey ; the lady was en- veloped in a huge fur cloak ; but hearing that c 2 28 COUSIN WILLIAM. Caroline was ill, and had fainted, she made a prodigious effort, and hastened down stairs to the drawing-room, where the poor girl had been laid on a sofa, while her own maid and William bathed her temples, and chafed her hands. "• What is it ?" said Mrs. Crosby : " what's the matter, William?" " My young lady has fainted, ma'am," said Davis. '^ Fainted — what, in the grounds ?''"' said Mrs. Crosby : " the air must have lost its elasticity, I suppose, or else she has been frightened. Remove her to her room; tie ligatures on her hands, knees, and elbows ; let her smell vinegar ; and her papa will I dare say be kind enough to get up and bleed her ; let there be feathers got, and bits of leather to burn, and have some sago gruel made; tell Hall to fetch some eau de luce, and warm some brandy ; Buchan, in svich cases, pre- scribes all these things, and others, which may be resorted to, if necessary." '' I am better now," said Caroline, raising herself, unconscious, however, where she was, but just sufficiently sensible to comprehend that her mother-in-law was Buchanizing, COUSIN WILLIAM. 29 " Mercy on us, Gary," said Mrs. Crosby, " open your eyes, dear : why, what have you been doing ? Look at me, child." " I cannot bear the Hght,"" said Caroline. " Exactly so," said Mrs. Crosby, with an air of self satisfaction ; '' decided inflammation, pain, heat, redness, and not able to bear the light. Do you think you see blue flies, my dear?'' '' Don't worry her with any needless ques- tions," said William. " Worry ! William Morley," exclaimed Mrs. Crosby, " what do you mean by worry ? doesn't Doctor Buchan say, that in serious cases of inflammation like this, the eyes are filled with scalding rheum, which rushes out in great quantities whenever the patient looks up — Mind, Davis, don't bring any of the burning feathers, or bits of leather, or anything of the sort ; all smoke must be avoided 1 find — get some leeches, bathe her feet."" *' Oh take me away, take me away," said Caroline, '' I have nothing the matter with me." The wretched girl again swooned, and by dint of force and persuasion, her fond mother- in-law permitted her to be removed to her bed, 30 COUSIN W1LLK\M. while she proceeded to get Mr. Crosby carefully wrapped up in blankets, in order that he might be enabled to visit Caroline, and open a vein, if necessary ; for it should be known that this couple were their own surgeons, as well as physicians, and bled and cupped each other whenever they found it agreeable ; but being as awkward in operating, as they were ignorant in prescribing, they generally were obliged to send for professional assistance to stop the bleedings, which they had so wisely provoked ; and in the more complicated performancie of cupping, the operator ordinarily broke two or three of the glasses on the patient's back, snapped the lancets at half cock into the palm of his own hand, or set fire to the drapery of the sufferer, in attempt- ing the preliminary operation of rarefying the air. Caroline, however, escaped all laceration and venesection for this time ; because Mrs. Crosby could not permit her husband, in his relaxed state, to venture upon a visit to his daughter's chamber ; and William (and even his iron heart softened at sight of the ruin he had made,) when he stole up to the door of the poor girl's room to inquire after her, was told that she was better, and had fallen asleep. COUSIN WILLIAM. 31 CHAPTER II. What dreadful havoc in the human heart The passions make when unconfined, and mad, They burst unguided by the mental eye, The light of reason. Thomson. The longest and the saddest night will have an end ; and morning beamed in all its summer brightness upon poor Caroline. She felt but little refreshed by her fitful slumbers, and it was with pain and sorrow she replied to the thousand questions of her mother-in-law, touch- ing her bodily health; for her heart was full, and tears followed every effort to speak. Mrs. Crosby very shortly concluded, that Caroline had caught cold; and her father actually took the trouble to prepare a large exhibition of Whitehead's essence of mustard, 32 COUSIN WILLIAM. wherewith to rub those parts of her body which might be sufFering from rheumatism. Carohne's first inquiry of her maid was after William ; the answer ^e received was equivocal, and given with embarrassment, which in fact arose from a doubt on the part of Davis whether her young mistress was yet sufficiently strong, to warrant the delivery to her, of a letter left for her by her cousin. He was gone— after enquiring sohcitously about her — and finding that she still slumbered, he took leave of his uncle and aunt, and pro- ceeded to London. The letter, which he had deposited in the hands of Davis, with an injunction to give it to Caro- line when she considered her well enough to read it, that assiduous aid-de-camp presented after some little hesitation, which only increased the anxiety of the poor girl. At length, however, it rested in her trembling hand, and with her eyes swimming in tears, she broke the seal and read the following lines : — *' Years have passed, dearest Caroline, since our acquaintance commenced ; the difference in our ages, (now perfectly inconsequential,) when COUSIN WILLIAM. 33 we first met, placed us in different spheres of society, and for years I regarded you as the child of my affection, the young sister of my heart. " In the common-place attachments of life, when either passion or (which as frequently happens) expediency and policy bring two per- sons in contact, the object of whose perpetual association is unequivocal ; they act as it were upon principle, are systematic in the progress of their connection, and acceptance or rejection terminates the feverish career. *' In such cases, to tamper with the feelings of a young and ardent creature, would be the height of cruelty and wickedness; but there do arise, even with the best intentions, circumstances to break such connections, after they have long existed ; and when pru- dence issues the mandate of separation, worldly custom demands the sacrifice, and worldly people are bound to make it. True it is, the pang thrills sharply through the heart when the link is severed, but time and the natural elasticity of the mind soften the anguish, and the happiness once enjoyed with the idol of the heart, is remembered with a pleasurable c 3 34 COUSIN WILLIAM. son'ow, not altogether unresembling that, with which we recur to virtues and 3,ccomplishments buried in the sleep of death. "But different, dreadfully different is it, sweet Caroline, where constant association, accordance of taste, sympathy of feeling, and disinterested affection, have blended as it were two hearts and minds in one ; where one spirit seems to animate both beings; where the ab- solute devotion of either to the other's interests, and the tenderest solicitiide for the other's happiness, regulates the conduct of the two, and where of all this commixture of sentiment. Love, in its gross and worldly sense, forms no ostensibly component part. '* The separation of two beings thus situated, is worse than death — for in that very separation truth bursts upon the mind, and all the feelings which both hearts have nurtured, combine to form the purest, strongest, and most ardent passion mortal breast can cherish. '' That passion, Caroline, I feel for you. Frown not, sweet innocent, at such a declaration at the moment in which I am forced by cruel destiny to part with you for ever — had any COUSIN WILLIAM. 35 human being told me yesterday, that you were the idol of my soul, that in you alone existed all my hopes of earthly happiness, I should have laughed at the supposition. "It is not while we possess delights that we justly appreciate them — I acceded to the only measure which could rescue my father and myself from ruin; I consented to become the husband of Lady Anne, without placing you in the opposite scale — I thought all that I felt for you was the attachment of relationship; I thought I could love you as a sister ; that T might innocently enjoy your society as the friend and companion of ray wife — but no — last night developed to me the real state of my heart, the real character of my passion for you. A thousand times have I caressed you, dearest — a thousand times kissed your white forehead, and twined those jetty curls about my fingers; gazed on your bright eyes, and conjured up visions of happiness for you in after life, without a selfish feeling; — but the test has been tried— the ardour, the warmth, the innocence of your confession last night — the pang of surrendering you eter- nally — the horrid prospect of my future career, •jr. 36 COUSIN WILLIAM. with a woman alvTays indifferent to me, but now positively hateful— all, all have discovered the fatal truth — the kiss— the parting kiss I printed on your lips — how different in cha- racter and feeling from those of other days, —definitively sealed our separation, — your lips, too, trembled — your heart beat- — this was not so before. Thank God, my sweetest child, we have nothing to reproach ourselves with — but we must not meet again — you are sleeping they tell me — another interview will but renew the dreadful agitation of last night — it is useless — you half asked me the question, to which I am doomed to reply — at the end of the present month, the hateful ceremony, which robs me of you for ever, is to take place. " Even now^, I would break through all the established forms of society, even now siibject myself to the contempt of the world, the hatred of the Sewards, and the wrath of my father^ could 1 by doing so, secure you eternally, with- out endangering your happiness or respectability; —but circumstanced as / am, a marriage with me would be ruinous for you — and should I, to gratify the fondest wishes of my heart, the COUSIN WILLIAM. 37 ruling passion of my soul, subject my sweet Caroline to embarrassments, perhaps distress — no — forbid it Heaven ! " One thing, dearest, I am going to ask, — if for a moment it seem wrong to your genuine mind, refuse me — I am aware there is a delicacy — a difficulty in it — that locket, the shrine of that precious relic once bestovved by my fond and affectionate Caroline, and placed round the neck of her poor cousin William, in the cloudless da3^s of uncontrouled affection, is again in your possession — it was right I should surrender it — at least I thought so — yet during the night I have considered, that retaining it in the spirit in which it was first given, cannot be objection- able, even to the most scrupulous. Think of this — act exactly as you please — judge for your- self, and I shall be satisfied — it would be a con- solation to me to possess it — I know I need say no more. " Should you consent to restore it, let me receive it in London— but again I entreat you, deny me this grace, if it seem the least improper or unreasonable. " And now, beloved girl, that I have sacrificed 58 COUSIN WILLIAM. for your sake the opportunity of bidding you farewell, let me implore you for mine to be calm — compose yourself j and think of me as I shall never cease to think of you ; but pray, pray be careful of your health — I have seen enough of your feelings to know their strength. Re- member, sweet love, you live for others — that you make the happiness of your excellent father, that you are destined to bless some future husband, and to ornament society with your virtues and accomplishments. I would suggest your not mentioning this declaration of my feelings, into which I have been so strangely driven, to your mother-in-law, for reasons which I will hereafter explain to you — to your dear father such a disclosure might give even more pain ; however,, your own good sense, uncorrupted by worldly counsel, will dictate to you the proper line to pursue ; and I repeat, whatever your decision is, with regard to the favour I ask, I shall be satisfied. " Adieu once more, dearest, dearest Caroline ; and believe me as I ever must be, " Devotedly and affectionately yours, " William.'' COUSIN WILLIAM. 39 The letter dropped from her hand, and she sank back on her pillow senseless. Davis, who was at hand, and had anticipated the result of its perusal, applied herself speedily to the restoration of her young mistress ; and with all the prudence and foresight so essentially necessary, and so highly characteristic of her peculiar calling, after having hastily skimmed the contents of the letter herself, thrust it under the pillow, just as Mrs. Crosby entered the room, to inquire the cause of the bustle. " My young lady has collapsed, ma'am," said Davis. '• Collapsed,"" said Mrs. Crosby, with an ex- pression of indignation, at the misapplication of the term. " Is she still hot ?"' *' Yes, ma'am, very hot," said Davis. " Feverish in a high degree," said Mrs. Crosby. " More James's powders, and more white wine whey." " I don't think those sort of things will be of much use,"' said Davis. " And pray, Davis," said the offended pre- ficriber, " what sort of things do you re- commend .?'* 40 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Why, ma'am, I don't pretend to recommend, but—" " But what ?" inquired Mrs. Crosby, who having no mind of hef own, imagined all ills to be bodily. " I think Miss is sorry at losing Mr. Wil- liam," said Davis. *' Stuff— Davis, how can you talk such nonsense ?" said her mistress. "^ How should sorrow give a pain in the side, or make any body feverish ? — Doctor Buchan certainly speaks of grief as a passion which may hurt the health, if long persisted in." " What does the doctor recommend for love ?" said Davis, more appositely than she, perhaps, anticipated. "You have been reading the book I suspect, Davis,*' said Mrs. Crosby ; " but I desire you will not be so free with your questions. If Mr. Morley's departure have any thing to do with Miss Crosby's illness, I am sorry the poor child cannot have the remedy the doctor prescribes in his work ; but I have no faith in such nonsense." Caroline, who was conscious, by the incessant noise that her cold, tall, and gaunt mother-in- COUSIX WILLlAiM. 41 law was in the room, raised her head, and in- stinctively stretched out her hand for Wilham's letter, and beholding Mrs. Crosby so near her, started up, and looked wildly round her. " Is he gone, ma'am ?''"' said she. " Who, my dear ?''' said Mrs. Crosby. " William," replied Caroline. " Yes," said Mrs. Crosby ; " he left us early this morning." " Then 'tis no dream," sighed the poor girl, and again hiding her burning cheek in her pillow burst into tears. " What is the meaning of all this ?''' said Mrs. Crosby, '* this looks strange.*" " Strange," said Davis. " I don't know, ma'am, what strangeness there maybe in it; but this /know, that if I had been Miss Carohne, and Mr. William had been always with me, I-" " You would have had a pain in your side, and a fever, too, and a tooth-ache besides, most probably ,'' — interrupted her mis- tress. '* I desire I may hear no more of this sort of stuff. Caroline, dear," continued the affectionate gorgon, " have a little hartshorn and water, and a little eau de Cologne to 42 COUSIN WILLIAM. your temples, my love, and let your papa bleed you, my dear." " Oh no," said Caroline, still instinctively glancing her eyes around, to ascertain whether William's dreadful letter were a reality or not, and whether, if it were, it were in the possession of her mother-in-law — for, for the first time, the ingenuous girl felt anxious to conceal it from one, who had heretofore been the venerable receptacle of all her secrets. " I shall be so much better soon — I am so much better — I should like to leave my bed— I should like to dress."" " That's right, Gary," said Mrs. Crosby, " exert yourself — you have no pains in your shoulders — no stiff neck, eh ?"" "None, ma'am, none, indeed indeed I am better — I am quite well,"" said the poor girl, with an air of gaiety which terrified Davis and delighted her mistress. " Dress her," said Mrs. Crosby to the sou- brette ; " and come, dearest, to your father, who will be charmed to see you— he, poor dear soul, has had what I take to be a slight touch of palsy during the night — I don't know exactly, but I know that loss of memory COUsIN WILLIAM. 43 is one of the worst symptoms, and it was present, for he actually forgot whether he had wound up liis watch when he went to bed or not ; and soon after that, his left leg felt as cold as ice — so I instantly got up and popped a blis- tering plaister on the place, and gave him a pint and a half of hot mustard whey, with a plateful of horseradish scraped into it, and Benjamin has been ever since ten o'clock brushing him with the double-hard flesh-brush. If he is not much better before the servants' dinner time, I'll do exactly as Buchan orders — 111 have his leg rubbed with stinging nettles, and electrify him myself in the course of the afternoon.*" " Poor dear papa," said Caroline, " how he must suffer."''' " All for his good, my dear," said Mrs. Crosby; " and he is much recovered already — you will be delighted to see him — make haste and come to us — change of scene is most desir- able for you, so lose no time." And with this recommendation of a change of scene, from her own bed-room to that of her father, darkened and shut up according to rule, Mrs. Crosby quitted her daughter-in-law. She had scarcely closed the door, when the hitherto 44 COUSIN WILLIAM. gentle, calm, and quiet Caroline, almost shrieked — "Where's the letter, Davis? where" — " Here, Miss, here," said the confidante ; for to such in one moment was the quondam servant changed. " I must write to him," said Caroline, speak- ing aloud, almost unconsciously — " he shall have the locket.— Poor William !" And her^ again she burst into tears, and covered her eyes with his letter, pressed it con- v^ulsively against her burning lips, and kissed it fervently. " I must not tell you all, Miss," said Davis. " All what .?"' said Caroline, timid and bold by turns ; and trembling at the disclosure she had made to Davis. " Mr. William—" '' Well ! when did he go r • " Two hours since.*' " Why, why did he not see me before he went?" said Caroline. " I could have borne to part with him." " He did see you," said Davis, who in truth was half afraid of exciting her mistress's anger, or perhaps of giving her delicacy the alarm too suddenl3\ COUSIN WILLIAM. 45 " See me!'' said Caroline. " Yes, Miss, you must not be cross with me," said Davis: " he stole to the door, and gave me the letter for you ; I told him you were asleep ; and with tears io his eyes, dear gentleman, he implored me to let him take one parting look ; — the last — he said, Miss ; and so I — "" "Was he here — here?" said the poor girl, half-dreading, half-wishing that he might have been. " There's a ring,"" said Davis, " which he left ; but you were sound asleep, and " There was a sudden pause in the dialogue ; Caroline stood on a precipice ; she saw that her maid was not only aware of the interest she took in William, but was interested in his favour herself. She had no mother — no friend — it is only to woman, that woman can confide such feelings; nature triumphed, and in an agony of despair and abandonment, she caught Davis by the hand. At that moment she passed the Rubicon. She confessed her devotion to a lover, to her menial servant ; a devotion to the lover, too, who had in fact rejected her ; a devotion to the libertine, who basely held possession of her 46 COUSIN WILLIAM. heart, while plighting his faith to another at the altar. Those who have jead, and by any chance remember enough of a former tale of this col- lection, to recollect Fanny Rodney, will perhaps see in the incident now before them, a powerful contrast in her conduct, to that of Caroline Crosby upon occasions of a somewhat similar nature : the girls were abstractedly equally good, equally amiable, and equally innocent, nor were their disadvantages touching the influence of ma- ternity, widely different ; but in the one case the mind had been trained, the passions regulated, arid the principles formed by religious instruc- tion and moral example : in the other, (that, which we are now considering,) no system had been adopted, no course marked out : Caroline''s parent and vice-parent were, or fancied them- selves wretched invalids ; they conceived that their bodies required their exclusive care; Buchan was their bible, and their days and nights were passed in quoting him, and quacking themselves. If the sun shone, Caroline strayed alone through the grounds, for her father wa5 afraid of the heat ; if it threatened rain, who could COUSIN WILLFAM. 47 risk a wetting, which might prove fatal ? If it were cold, her mother-in-law, who herself re- sembled an iceberg, could not venture to expose her frail frame to the weather. In short, from some cause or other, Caroline was left to act for herself throughcmt the day. At night the sick couple would creep to bed at sunset, and the poor girl, driven to all sorts of devices for amuse- ment, imbibed, through the medium of poets and novelists, not of the best class, confused ideas of right and wrong, a thousand wild no- tions of pleasures, of love, and of romance ; and when the mind was thus prepared, her cousin William used to pay those periodical visits, the last of which had just terminated. In opposition to all these bright fancies of the ardent girl, for she was full of talent, wild as it was, and full of genius, unstrained as it might be, what did she see in the dullest house in Christen- dom, whose silence was never broken, except occasionally by the heavy pounding of drugs, and whose threshold, save by the persons I have already enumerated, was scarcely crossed by an individual not actually belonging to the family ? — nothing!— The cold formal stiffness of her mother-in-law, the total supineness of her poor 48 COU.^lN WILLIAM. father, and the absence of any congenial associate, rendered her situation in William's absence as wretched as it was perilous during his presence. Their acquaintance, their association, however, was now ended — William was gone, and Caroline still in fact the pure and innocent creature he had first known her: yet she had fallen mentally ; new lights had brokeo in upon her : she felt conscious that she ought not to return the locket, yet she resolved to send it to him ; she felt the indignity of- fered to herself, yet she resented it not ; she knew she should act wrongly in permitting such a claim as his, to exist ; she knew that in a few days it Would be criminal to retain an interest in his heart. All this was evident to her —she trem- bled when she heard her mother-in-law near her — she never had done so before ; she sought to conceal a letter from her cousin Willianj^ whose correspondence, although directed to her^ had hitherto been common to the circle ; she had felt the ardour of his embrace — the lover's kiss had pressed her lips— his letter subsequently had reached her by clandestine means — and at the moment when all these circumstances combined, she felt that in her heart of hearts she loved him with a worldly love, till then unknown to her — COUSIN WILLIAM. 49 she had no councillor on earth — she had not been instructed to appeal to one in heaven, who, Almighty as he is, would have aided, strengthen- ed, and sustained her. She was bewildered — to lose her beloved Wil- liam at the moment in which she first recognised the lover — to be robbed of his society — never perhaps again to hear his voice — it was too much for her ; she looked around — every ob- ject reminded her of him — her whole character seemed at once to undergo a terrible revolu- tion. Passion the most unbounded overwhelmed her, and she sank senseless into the arms of her — CONFIDANTE ! Davis, who plays no unimportant part in this history, was a shrewd, handsome, and well edu- cated girl ; at least just so well educated as to be ruined by her knowledge. She had been most piously brought up by an excellent lady, who was delighted with her precocity, and who, having procured her an asylum in some public establishment, taught her at six years old to read the Bible, and to write out moral lessons in all sorts of hands ; and this went on ex- tremely well until the girl grew up, when the spirit of inquiry becoming strong. Miss Davis VOL. I. D 50 COUSIN WILLIAM. took to reading other books than Bibles, and writing other things than moral lessons : she returned to her family, who were living honestly and labouring successfully in their vocation ; but she despised their guidance, and ridiculed their rusticity ; laughed at her sister, who could not write an answer to the honourable proposals of a respectable farmer, (her suitor), and des- patched an assignation by the same post to a half-pay lieutenant of marines, with whom she had long been corresponding while under the roof of the Lady Bountiful, who had polished her up. Time, however, and the looking-glass, made Mary Davis at length think that so clever and accomplit^hed a gii'l as she was, should try to " better herself ;'' and having read Pamela six times, and fancied herself into the heroine, slio proceeded to enact the character v/ith the son of her patroness, who sympathised with her in her belief of her resemblance to the original, till towards the conclusion of the work; when Mary Davis was obliged to go down into Gloucester- shire to visit an aunt, whose name she had never mentioned before, and who it was said, starved her niece, and treated her so ill during her stay COUSIN WILLIAM. 51 that she returned to her mistress's mansion in less than two months, scarcely half the size she was when she left it. Matters, however, were extremely well ma- naged, and when the old lady died, her son, who had married and settled, very honourablv restored Mary Davis that, of which he had be- fore robbed her, by giving her an excellent cha- racter into the Crosby family, where she had conducted herself for the last two or three years Avith every becoming propriety. The reader will, perhaps, however, not be sur- prised, considering all things, to find that her interest in the welfare of Mr. William Morlev was not altogether unmixed with a little of the romantic affection which it seems she was in the habit of displaying towards loveable objects; and that although she certainly had not been visiting her relations during her stay at the Crosbys, her readiness to forward the affair between Carohne and her cousin William, would, in other arul higher circles, have been considered, to say the least of it, very generous. Such a piinister for sucli a monarch, such a maid for such a mistress, and what was to be expected? — Independently of the course of think- D 2 52 COUSIN WILLIAM. ing which such a course of reading as Mary- Davis's would induce, independently of the ma- terial upon which sentiment was worked, (gold embroidery upon a frieze coat,) — independently of the debasement of her principles, and the mere humanity of her affections, there existed in the composition of her mind that formidable desire, which all bad women feel, of making others as bad as themselves. To disarm a superior of the power of re- proach — to bring the whole force of a tu quoqtte to bear upon those whose authority ought to in- fluence and command — in short, to assimilate others with themselves, is one of the great ob- jects which such personages as Miss Davis have constantly in view ; and it should not be for- gotten, that she had already succeeded^ in one short hour, in inducing her young mistress to receive a letter clandestinely from an avowed lover, actually under a matrimonial engagement to another woman ; to accept a pledge of affec- tion from that lover, and to hear with pleasure a detail of how he had stolen to her bed-side while she slept, and printed a kiss upon her rosy lips. From that hour Caroline Crosby was another COUSIN WILLIAM. 53 beinff — a tliousand excuses were made to avoid her mother-in-law — a letter full of fervent love was written to William — the locket was packed up, despatched by Davis, who became the con- stant associate in her young lady's walks. Wil- liam was directed to send his answer under cover to her; the companions themselves strolled to the post-office, and deposited the despatch for him; — and the society of her father became painful in the extreme to his once affectionate daughter, whose constant restlessness could not have failed to attract any less dormant pa- rent. No human being, perhaps, ever suffered more than this poor child, — for such in fact she was, — until she received safely the answer of her de- stroyer, which in due course of post gladdened her expecting eyes. His letter was full of acknowledgments of gratitude and love, imploring her as before, to be calm and happy — assuring her that the day might come when all would be well ; thereby de- licately implying a hope that his bride might re- lieve him of her presence by a natural event, the mortal tendency of which could not be mistaken ; congratulating her on the acquisition of such a 54 COUSIN WII.LIAMc cwifidante as Davis, and entreating her to che- j["ish the affection which she felt for so worthy a creature ; and concluding with the announce- ment that his .marriage was intended to take place in the course of the following week ; of which, he added, he had by that day's post ap- prised his uncle. And so he had ; and Caroline sat and heard the announcement read by her father after breakfast without the alteration of a feature — without the wasting of a tear. She even affected surprise at the intelligence, which she had pre- viously received; and so perfectly did she con- ceal her feelings, that Mrs. Crosby was satisfied that Davis was wrong, when she suspected her young mistress of any thing like a penchant for her cousin William. " I hope," said Caroline, affecting to work, " that my cousin will be happy." " Happy, child," said old Crosby, " what is there to prevent it ? Lady Anne Seward is the daughter and heiress of the late Lord Dun- barry, who, after a minority of sixteen years, finds herself possessed of everything in the world except her father's title, which descended to her uncle." COUSIN WILLIAM. 55 " She is a little deformed, isn't she ?" said Mrs. Crosby, screwing up her mouth. " Umph !'' said Crosby, " a leetel— all the fault of bringing up, my love — stewed up for ever in a nursery. What does Buchan say ? Children who are kept within doors all day, and sleep all night in warm apartments, may with great propriety be compared to plants nursed in a hot- house, instead of the open air.**' '' Yes, but papa,'** said Caroline, " Lady Anne is positively deformed, because cousin William has often talked about her to me ; and is plain beyond description.'^ " One eye is absent without leave," said Mr. Crosby ; " but what of that ? William has evi- dently struck the other.^' " I cannot imagine how William can sacri- fice himself so," said Caroline. " Sacrifice,'* said Crosby, laughing, " you are a silly child, Caroline ; so far as any sacri- fice is made, I think her ladyship makes it. What's the miss of an eye ? — what's a little sinu- osity?— all the same in a month, Cary, if he married a Venus — what does it signify ? *' Well, Mr. Crosby,'' said his lady, looking more hideous than ever did the figure head of 56 COUSIN WILLIAM. the Fury Bomb ; " I cannot think how you can talk so, — you who formerly were so par- ticular." '' Formerly, my dear ; I don't recollect," said Crosby, somewhat archly for him, " Don't you, indeed," exclaimed the lady ; '^ another lapse — do you know the day of the week, my dear ?" ' " Yes," said Crosby, " Friday to be sure.'' " Thank God," said she. « I was afraid I should have had to send for Benjamin and the stinging nettles, it appeared so like a relapse." -" My dear Mrs. Crosby," continued the in- valid, " whenever I speak, I speak generally ; and I do certainly repeat, that the beauties of the mind are those, for which a sensible man should search, rather than the fleeting charms of person." " But," said Caroline, pettishly, ''Lady Anne is positively silly." " Then, my dear," answered her father, " according to a rule, which I presume you un- derstand, that two negatives make an affirma- tive, their family will be excessively wise." " I'm sure," said Miss Crosby, " cousin Wil- liam is anything but silly »" l^OUSIN WILLIAM. 57 " I am afraid so,'' answered her father ; " and I once feared — "" What, the reader must guess ; for I am not at present enabled to tell him, since just at that moment a servant announced a visitor, Sir Mark Terrington, who had been admitted, and was actually in the library. ** Oh ! the disagreeable creature,'** said Caro- line. " How excessively inconvenient," exclaimed Mrs. Crosby. *' I must see him," observed Mr. Crosby. " But the cold hall," said the lady. " The middle of July," answered the hus- band. " The salts and senna," whispered the wife. " I'll run away," exclaimed the daughter. " Say I'm coming," said Mr. Crosby to the servant, who retired. " Now that Sir Mark," said Caroline, " is silly if you please, papa." " That I deny, Cary," replied her father ; <^ his failing is peculiar, — he is sensible enough, but he is resolved that everybody shall know it, and therefore gives his friends the benefit of observations, which, rational as they are, D 3 58 COUSIN WILLIAM. everybody can make just as well as himself. He is tiresome I confess, but not silly. Why he should come here heaven knows ; I dare say it is to invite us to his annual fete at Stamford- leigh. However, thick shoes, Mrs, Crosby — a clean flannel morning gown, Mrs. Crosby — my hat and gloves, Mrs. Crosby — and then, tell Benjamin to shut all the outer doors, and I'll venture across the hall to the library." And away went Mr. Crosby to his guest. Mrs. Crosby proceeded to make a new infusion of tamarinds, senna, and chrystals of tartar for her husband, against he came up again; and Caroline flew to answer the secret despatch of her cousin William. COUSIN WILLIAM. CHAPTER III. " Too oft by parents join'd, unknowing innocent, Artless and young, the tender virgin takes A master, not a lover to her arras. The momentary transports soon decay, A dull and sullen servitude succeeds. For life succeeds. Honour forbids divorce, And every creature hopes for liberty But the poor captive of the marriage bed." Charles Johnson. A BLACK swan, or a white crow, is not a greater variety in ornithology than was a visitor in the house of Mr. Crosby ; and although the old gentleman had not shot wide of the mark when he guessed at the invitation to Stamford- leigh, he did not draw quite so long a bow as he might have drawn upon the occasion. Sir Mark, who was perhaps five or six and thirty years of age, was fair haired and rosy cheeked, 001 COUSIN WILLIAM. fat in the face, stout in his limbs, and altogether what might be called a nice, jolly gentleman. He was rich and amiable, but shy, and un- popular with women ; and above all, as his present host very justly said, was sadly prone to utter the merest truisms and platitudes; with which, if truth must be told by his bio- grapher, he made up the greater part of his conversation, which did not happen immediately to apply to passing the bottle ; for the baro- net was fond of his wine, and had a very fine cellar ; to which shady blest retreat he was fain to conduct such visitors as were in the habit of patronizing Stamfordleigh, who were led through the dark and dusky labyrinth, attended and illuminated by his upper and under butler, accompanied by livery servants, armed with sun- dry glasses ; so that the spectators of his store might at certain points judge for themselves of the different qualities of wine in the wood, which on every side abounded. Sir Mark, like all shy men, was sure to be always conspicuous for something. His tailor generally made his coat-sleeves two or three inches too short ; so that not only his red lumps of knuckles were entirely laid open to view, COUSIN WILLIAM. 6l but even the articulation of the ulna with the carpus, and all the pleasing playfulnesses of the scaphoides, trapezoides, and the rest of their adjuncts were developed and exhibited, with the greatest anatomical nicety. At another time his boots would creak like arid wheels of heavy waggons, which to a man who " trembled at the noise himself had made,"" was a perpetual and never-ceasing calamity. If the slightest breeze blew, Sir Mark's hat was sure to fly off; or if the gentlest frost that ever crisped the grass was present, his unlucky foot would surely slide from under him, and he become the " sight " and laugh of the moment. But his observations, multifarious as they generally were, were on the day in question more numerous and more voluminous than usual ; and after the expected invitation had been given, and Mr. Crosby had more than once been reminded, by certain unpleasant twinges, that he had taken medicine, Sir Mark still sat, twirling his watch chain, as was his constant custom, like " Patience smiling at Grief," until at length, as if to vary his recrea- tion, he rose and looked out of the window. " I think, Mr. Crosby,'' said he, '•' we shall have rain." 62 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Probably, Sir Mark," said Crosby, who did not care whether it ever rained again or not. * " I have always observed, Sir,'' said the ba- ronet, " that the barometer is the best guide to a change of weather ; mine was made by a man at Charing Cross, and I have always found it prognosticate very truly." " Yes,*" said Crosby, " they are very ser- viceable to farmers and sportsmen, and all that sort of thing; and I believe at sea have been found highly useful." '' Those used at sea, Sir," said Sir Mark, " I believe are called marine barometers. They must be very useful. The sea, you know. Sir, is a large body of water. — It is really quite won- derful how people first ventured upon it ; for after all, you know, Sir, a ship is made but of wood and iron, and sails are but canvas, Mr. Crosby." " Very true, indeed. Sir Mark," said the in- valid. " Were you ever much at sea, Sir ?'''' said Sir Mark. " Very little. Sir," said Crosby, " hardly at all." " Then," said the baronet, *' of course you COUSIN WILLIAM. 6^ cannot be expected to know so much of marine matters as persons who have made it their amusement or profession ; I have a cousin who has been in the navy three and twenty years, and that you know, Mr. Crosby, is a long time." *' Yes, Sir," said Crosby, looking wistfully, first at the door, and then at the bell, '' a very long time." *• What a dull life, Sir, it must be at sea," said Sir Mark. " Why, that depends a good deal on circum- stances,'^ replied his host : *' if our companions are pleasant, the scene matters little in which we pass our time." Here, as if Mr. Crosby had struck him with a thunderbolt, Sir Mark again rose from his chair, which he had only just resumed, and paced the room with an animation so new and unUke his usual manner, that Crosby, who never lost sight of Buchan, was about to arm himself with the poker against a most powerful symptom of in- cipient insanity. " That, Sir," said Sir Mark, standing close to the table in front of Crosby, *■' that is what I was observing to myself the night before last, 64 COUSIN WILLIAM. when I heard that your nephew, Captain Morley, was going to be married to Lady Anne Seward." Mr. Crosby was perfectly lost in amazement, to discover by what extraordinary coincidence, combination, or concatenation the matter-of-fact baronet could have so suddenly retreated from his chair, and mentally leaped from a dull party at sea to the marriage of his nepkew with Lord D unbar ry's niece. " Indeed !" said Crosby. " Yes, Mr. Crosby," continued Sir Mark, '* you don't know how much I am interested in that match. I do not know the lady, because, to tell you the truth, I have never seen her, and therefore as I need hardly add, am not likely to have been introduced to her. But I have sl reason, and a strong one too, for being satisfied at the report of the marriage; because, no man in England, I believe, can legally marry two wives.'* " That is very true, indeed. Sir," said Crosby. ''Now, Mr. Crosby, we are alone," said the baronet, " and, as I need hardly add, there is no person to witness our conversation, which, in fact, emboldens me to refer to a subject upon which I have hitherto kept strict silence : in- deed a man is better able to break any thing COUSIN WILLIAM. 65 important to a friend-of whom he knows some- thing, than to an utter stranger, at least I have always observed that to be the case." ''So have I," said Crosby, half good na- turedly and half vexed at the trying stupidity of his companion, " Well now, Mr. Crosby, I am a man of few words," said Sir Mark, " and as I need hardly add, say very little in mixed society ; but I am not wanting in conversational powers when I know my auditor. I have long wished to open my mind to you upon this very important and delicate subject, but have hitherto been re- strained by what I thought an unconquerable objection to the measure I was about to pro- pose ; and I have always made it a rule through life never to try to do any thing which I have previously ascertained to be impossible ; since, as I need hardly add, such conduct would be extremely foolish." " Extremely, Sir," said Crosby ; " but what may be the nature of your proposition ? You may unhesitatingly open your mind to me, for you may rest assured, if my health permits, I shall be but too happy to meet your wishes in any practicable manner." 66 COUSIN WILLIAM. " You are extremely kind, Sir, I'm sure," said Sir Mark ; " but as I need hardly tell you, it is quite impossible for dne person to answer for another person's taste, I feel extremely awk- ward, very much embarrassed, but I have, I feel happy to say, broken the ice ; and that is the chief thing; for I have always observed that if one wishes' to state a thing honestly and fairly, it is no use going round about." " Clearly not," said Crosby. " Well then. Sir," said Sir Mark, " I always thought that Captain Morley wouid have mar* ried your daughter." " Indeed !" said Crosby. " Indeed I always did,'' said Sir Mark ; " for I have observed that when two young people are perpetually together, and like each' other extremely, the acquaintance very often ends in a declaration and a marriage ; which, as I have several times said to myself, is natural enough ; because, as I need hardly add, it is next to an impossibility that two people, who were never acquainted at all, should form that sort of at- tachment." " Well, Sir, but what has—'* *' That's just what I'm coming to," said Sir COU.-IN WILLIAM. 67 Mark. " While I thought this courtship was going on, I felt that the little I could do, would be of no use whatever." ''In what particular way, might I ask ?" said Mr. Crosby. " In the particular way of doing what I am now doing," replied Sir Mark, to the infinite amazement of Mr. Crosby, who saw him do nothing but twirl his watch-chain, as he had been in the habit of doing at every previous meeting between them. " Mr. Crosby," said the baronet, after a mo- ment's pause, "I know you will forgive me — you are a kind man, and kind men are never harsh. I will be very candid ; for, as I always say to myself, candour is a virtue, and virtue, I need hardly add, is to be cultivated on all occa- sions. — I have a favour to ask of you." " Name it. Sir Mark," said Crosby. '* 1 am," said Sir Mark, " as you know, a baronet. It would be useless for me to descant upon my own good qualities. I need hardly add I have a very handsome fortune — I have a good deal of property in tliis county — more in Dorsetshire — and a house in TiOndon."'^ " 1 know it all. Sir Mark," said Crosby. 68 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Well then, Mr. Crosby," said the baronet, twirling his watch-chain with redoubled ac- tivity, " I do not tHink I ought, under the cir- cumstances, to consider myself acting in any irrational manner, if I proposed for the daughter of any neighbouring gentleman for whom I might have conceived an affection." " Quite the contrary, Sir Mark," said Crosby; " I am quite sure that any of our neighbours who have daughters would be proud of such an alliance." ^' You really think so ?" said Sir Mark. "I do, upon my honour," said Crosby. *'• Well, Sir," said Sir Mark, hesitatingly — *' I need hardly add, — i/ou have a daughter." « I, Sir !" said Crosby. " Yes, you have indeed. Sir," said Sir Mark,' with the most perfect earnestness and naivete^ " and a lovely daughter, too.'** " She is a child, Sir Mark," said Crosby. " Why, Sir," said Sir Mark, " I have al- ways observed that people never grow younger ; and youth is a fault of which everybody mends —he — he — he." *' Really," said Crosby, " I hardly know what to say ; flattered as I must be, and she. COUSIN WILLIAM. 69 too, by such an offer ; — I — she really is so un- used to the world, that *" " The very thing I want," said Sir Mark. '' I have observed that a woman, Sir, who has lived long in society, knows a great deal more than one who has never been from home, and I have always remarked that there is a great deal of artificiality, Sir, in the ways of fashion- able life." '' Upon my word," said Crosby, " I '* " All I ask, Sir,'* said the baronet, " is a trial. Give me the opportunity of seeing and conversing with the young lady; for without such an opportunity, it strikes me, I don't know how you feel, that it would be difficult to make an acquaintance. I should not desire to have her inclinations forced." " Forced !'' exclaimed Crosby ; " there can be no great need of forcing. Sir Mark ; she ought to be too proud and too happy to know that she lias been sufficiently fortunate to engage the re- gards of so excellent a gentleman as yourself." " You are very kind, Sir,'' said Sir Mark, colouring to purple ; '' then as far as you are individually and personally concerned, you don't object ?'' 70 COUSIN WILLTAM. " Object ! not /, Sir Mark," said Crosby. " Well, Sir,"" said the matter-of-fact baronet, quite satisfied with the progress he had made, '' when — then — will it be convenient for us to begin ?^' The quaintness and oddity of the question puzzled poor Crosby, who evaded a direct an- swer by telling him that whatever his own feel- ings might be, he had always determined to consult the feelings of hh child whenever such an occasion might present itself; and that he should consider it necessary, in the first instance, to open the subject to he?' ; after having done which, he would beg the favour of seeing Sir Mark again ; but at the same time, and in the outset, he begged him to dismiss from his mind any idea that at any time any thing like any attachment subsisted between her and Captain Morley. He was her relation, and therefore admitted to all the privileges of the most inti- mate acquaintance ; but he assured him, that no feeling except of a friendly nature existed in the slightest degree ])etween his daughter and her cousin William. All of which, according to the ordinary course of things, he, the said Crosby, firmly believed, or if he did 7wt, deter- COUSIN WILLIAM. fi mined to make Sir Mark Terrington believe in the dawn of the affair. Sir Mark having expressed himself perfectly satisfied with the proposed arrangement, and cal- culating not irrationally, that six or eight thou- sand a year, a good person though plumpish, and a title, though inferior, were by no means bad commodities on the matrimonial stock ex- change ; rose from his seat, and carrying the chair on which he had been reposing, back to its native place against the wall, took up his gloves and his whip, and drawing those upon his hands, and putting that under his arm, as- sumed also his hat, and expressing an anxiety for some speedy information upon the important topic which he had so abruptly introduced, took leave of the hall and his intended father-in-law, just as abruptly, leaving the old gentleman per- fectly overwlielmed with the extraordinary ad- vantages of the proposal, and so flurried, that Benjamin was called to bring him half a wine- glass of Daffy's Elixir, before he could muster sufficient strength to get up stairs to take his waiting infusion of senna and tamarinds. Perhaps there never existed a man whose character, morals, or respectability were less 72 COUSIN WILLIAM. assailable, even by the most malicious retailer of calumny and scandal, than Sir Mark Ter- rington : rich, in estates unincumbered by debt, his establishment went on like clock-work ; nor was he in his own matter-of-fact man- ner less methodical than his dependants, for as is the master, generally speaking, so are the servants : his drawing-rooms were neatness itself, the curtains, festooned in regular and in- variable folds, were bagged up in cotton and pinned up in paper, lest the light or air should fall upon them ; the same china jars had rested on the same spots of buhl for the last ten years ; and the tables, and chairs, and grates, and chimney-pieces were as bright and spotless as unremitting care and constant practice could make them ; the windows were cleaned^ weekly, but at no other period than that of their purifi- cation, were they ever by any chance opened, the damp and dust being in the opinion of Mrs. Phillicoddy, the housekeeper, seriously injurious to the brightness of the polish, in the lustre of which everything shone resplendent. Sir Mark, who was prodigiously moral, had, during his constant and regular attendance at church, devoted his time to the observation of COUSIN WILLIAM. fS his neighbour's daughter, who, since truth must be told, had with equal sincerity performed her part of the ritual. A little cause in the church- yard after divine service, (customary in all places, and defensible in none,) was to her a pleasing relaxation ; and such things as discussions dur- ing the walk homewards through the park, upon the relative merits of Mrs. Wilkinson's bonnet, and Lady Busby's pelisse ; expressions of asto- nishment how farmer Hill could afford his daughters such finery as they always wore ; wonders who the two tall men in Sir Jeffrey Dykes' s pew could be ; and suggestions that Doctor Micklethwalte certainly meant an allu- sion to Mrs. Simmons' s little weaknesses in his sermon ; afforded great amusement to Caroline, while the divine service itself, seemed remem- bered only, as having been the necessary and inevitable prelude to the frivolous and profane colloquy which succeeded it. Such is, alas I too commonly the case; and important and imperious as ai'e the constant gathering together in prayer and attendance upon public worship, it is impossible to behold the trumpery decorations and tawdry orna- ments of a modish congregation running after VOL. I. E 7i COUSIN WILLIAM. a popular preacher, without feeHng mingled pity and contempt for such a shew of religion, which is neither more nor less than a worldly sacrifice at the tinselled altar of fashion. That a clergyman should be a good orator is most desirable ; that the doctrine which he in- culcates, and the principles which he advocates in his sermon, should be well and forcibly given, is assuredly and undeniably essential to the effect which it is hoped that sermon may produce; butj putting the preacher out of the question, the sermon itself is but a secondary affair : it is an essay written by a frail mortal, one of our- selves, and delivered professedly as a summary of Ms opinions and advice, (although more fre- quently borrowed), and when well delivered, is at once agreeable and advantageous. But it is to the inspired word of God himself we listen, in the previous part of the service ; it is to join with our brethren in supplication to our Maker and Preserver that we assemble and meet to- gether ; and nothing marks the frivolity, the theatrical trickery of a crowd of well-dressed dames, who follow a few mad leaders, than hunt- ing ^hat they call a fine preacher from one end of the town to the other. COUSIN WILLIAM. 75 Next to this elegant failing, perhaps before it, comes that avowal of indifference to the sacred business of the Sabbath, which every individual of a congregation makes by entering upon such discussions as those in which Caroline and the anatomie vivante, her mother-in-law, were wont to indulge in their progress homewards after church. The idle gossi pings over the graves of the dead, the discussions of foregone parties, and the anticipation o^ fetes to come, in such a place and at such a season, are abominable and dis- gusting ; and practically give the lie to all the pious professions which the chattering congre- gation have just before been making b}^ rote. As for Caroline, it was not always that she had even the protecting association of her guardian dame upon these occasions ; not always that even she herself was permittetl to attend divine service ; and to these irregular proceedings, and the loose desultory mode in which she was generally educated, many of the events of her future life may be fairly attributed. At the present moment her occasional attend- ance at church it seems had been serviceable in a worldly point of view, as having shewn her beauties to Sir Mark, and enabled her to judge E 2 76 COUSIN WILLIAM. of the merits (at least the personal merits) of the aspirant to her favour. To be sure, the moment at ^^hich the pro- posal of Sir Mark was to be communicated to her, however nicely the baronet had calculated, was a critical one ; for if ever there were a posi- tive reverse of Morley in every visible quality to be found, it was exhibited in Sir Mark. Morley was dark, vivacious, gay, tender, and accomplished ; Terrington fair, heavy, dull, coarse, and unlettered: Morley's conversation was all wit and brilliancy, Terrington's discus- sions mere matter s-of- fact, unqualified by the slightest dash of liveliness or even originality. Nor in the hidden qualities of heart and prin- ciple were they less strongly opposed. Ter- rington was all honour and rectitude, simple and straight-forward in conduct, plain and un- sophisticated in character. Morley, who insincere and demoralized, felt that the end always justified the means, was every thing to every body ;. and unconstrained by any sense of moral obligation, sought and seized every opportunity of self-gratification, let the cost to others be what it might. ' Morley was courted, caressed, and almost COUSIN WILLIAM. 77 idolized; Sir Mark neglected and shunned by wo- men of taste, remained unknowing and unknown, «nd except a slight suspicion of a tendre for the sixth daughter of his steward, was never known to exhibit any outward sign of amative- ness towards any living female, excepting always his respectable and accomplished mother, to whom he had ever been a most exemplary and dutiful son. Mr. Crosby, who, as I have already men- tioned, felt the full importance of such a con- nection as Sir Mark, having fortified himself with his promised dram of Daffy, proceeded to the laboratorv of his lady, who was anxiously watching the progress of her infusion, and who was in a better than ordinary humour, having just received a present from Mr. Crosby^s attorney, who knowing that in most families the female branch prevails, used occasionally to make the amiable, by laying at the feet of his client's spouse, such objects as he considered most acceptable to a lady of her character and disposition. " My love,'" said Mrs. Crosby stirring the infusion, " I have written to ask Mr. Dobbs and his daughter to dine with us on Sunday." 78 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Dobbs!" cried Mr. Crosby, " theDev *" and there he stopped suddenly, recollecting that a visit from a professional friend might be agreeable, if not absfolutely necessary by that time — " Have you, my life ?'' '* Yes," said Mrs. Crosby, " I have — indeed I could hardly do less — he has sent me a very valuable present — extremely valuable indeed, at this time of year." *' What is it, Mrs. Crosby .?'* said her hus- band. " Two dozen and a half of the liveliest leeches I think I ever saw," replied the lady. " I shall lose no time with them — no answering for accidents — pop six of them on to-night, you shall have another half dozen on, in the morning, and Caroline I am sure will not be the worse for a little puUing down, she is getting so'—" " So what?" exclaimed Crosby; "nevermind what she is getting, my Iotc ; I have got a better thing for her than leeches.'' " And what may that be, Mr. Crosby T^ said Mrs. Crosby, " Cheltenham salts, or — " '' Cheltenham devils !'* cried her husband, " I've got a baronet for her.'^ " A what T"* exclaimed Mrs. Crosby. COUSIN WILLIAM. 79 " A baronet — eight thousand a year, and a fine honest fellow into the bargain.'* *' I don't understand you, Mr. Crosby,*' said the lady : " Doctor Buchan observes " " Stop one moment, my angel, and hear me,"'' said Crosby : " I am all in a tremble ; hot and cold in a moment."" " Mr. Crosby, Mr. Crosby," cried the lady, " these, my love, are indubitable signs of the measles — you have told me you never had them — let me pound you some spermaceti and sugar- candy — prevention is better than cure — put blisters to your legs "" " Curse the blisters !" exclaimed Mr. Crosby. " My life, my love," said the lady, " consider what you say." « I do, I do,'' said Crosby, " I tell you I have got a husband for Cary." " A husband, my dear !" said the mother-in- law, drawing herself up coldly, " what on earth should Caroline do with a husband ?" " Upon my word, Mrs. Crosby, I cannot pretend to say," said Mr. Crosby, " nor does it much signify to you or me what she does with him. All I know is, that Sir Mark Terrington has solicited permission to open the preliminaries.- 80 COUSIN WILLIAM. <« To do what, Mr. Crosby ?" said Mrs. Crosby ; who save and except those which occur in the Materia Medica, did not comprehend any word of more th^n three syllables. " To commence the siege, my love," said Crosby, " if you prefer warlike terms to those of peace.'' *' You don't mean to say,"" said Mrs. Crosby, " that Sir Mark Terrington wants to marry Caroline.?" " My love, you have hit it exactly," said Crosby. '' Then youhave surprised me," said the lady. " I see no great cause for surprise — she is a finie girl, Mrs. Crosby, and a good girl, and^*' " — Your daughter, my dear," interrupted Mrs. Crosby ; "at all events she is still a mere child.'' «' Well, perhaps,*' said Crosby, "it is because Sir Mark wants a child, that he is induced to marry Caroline; for mt/ part Caroline appears to me quite as wise as her intended husband ; and as for the difference in their ages, why twenty years sounds a good deal, yet she is turned sixteen, and he under forty — What of that?'' COUSIN WILLIAM. 81 *^ Nothing just now," said Mrs. Crosby; "but when Caroline, with her volatile disposition, her wild enthusiasm, and her pretty person, finds herself at Sir Mark's present age, the wife of a dull person of sixty, perhaps *" "Perhaps — perhaps what, Mrs. Crosby ?'^ said the animated father. " Parents who discover evils at twenty years distance will be a long time settling their children. — I think the match a good match, a prudent match, and an honourable match." " In that case,'* said the lady, " it is in every point of view desirable.'" " You are as matter of fact, as Sir Mark himself,'* said Crosby. " However, T will speak to the girl, extract her opinion of the baronet before I break his proposal to her, and I hope I shall soon have her happily established as Lady Terrington.'* There are people in this world who have a dislike to see other people happy, and Avho, even wishing those other people well, bound to them by ties of friendship, nay even of consanguinity, cannot endure that their co-mates in existence should pass them in the course of life, or gain Jin ascendancy over them in the affairs of society. 82 COUSIN WILLIAM, Mrs. Crosby never liked Caroline, and though parched, stiff, cold, and cadaverous herself, never entirely dismissed from her mind a sexual envy of her blooming daugl]ter-in-law. Caroline, who had never known her mother, although reared with a sort of constrained kind- ness, founded upon the necessity of the case, by her father's second wife, felt nothing ap- proaching to affection for her step-mother ; so that the life she led was anything but happy : indeed, as I have already said, when unenlivened by the presence of her dear cousin William, the dullness of Crosby Hall was unmitigated. Under these circumstances one would have thought that Mrs. Crosby would have rejoiced at the prospect of settling her daughter-in-law honourably and resj^ectably, not more, from the feeling that sucli a change would be highly advantageous to her young charge, than from the less amiable an- ticipation of being fairly quit of a rival, who, however ridiculous it may seem, was a constant source of uneasiness to her, from the popularity which the lovely girl had secured amongst the tenants, neighbours and even servants, who could not but consider the kind-hearted laughing Caroline their legitimate mistress, kept out of » COUSIN WILLIAM. 83 controul and dominion which she would have generously and liberally exercised, by the usur- pation of a hard hearted, hard featured, freezing, phlegmatic body, who cared for nobody on earth, except herself and her husband, in the prolonga- tion of whose life she had a worldly interest. But no — such was the meanness of her nature and disposition that she felt more inclined to persuade Caroline to reject Sir Mark rather than accept him, merely because she anticipated that the mar- riage would place her daughter-in-law in a higher sphere of action than that, in which she herself moved ; while his ample fortune would afford his wife the means of becoming even more popu- lar in the neighbourhood than she already wasy to the certain disadvantage of the inhabitants of Crosby Hall, whenever a comparison between them should chance to be established. Crosby, who except in matters of medicine, had something like a way of his own, saw his l^dy\s feelings in her conduct and countenance, and determined to submit the whole affair at once to his daughter : merely to giving his opinion upon the merits of the match, and leaving her, as he always said he should, to exercise her own judgment, or (which perhaps in a young creaturi? 84« COUSIN WILLIAM. not seventeen, is more to the purpose) her fancy, in either accepting or rejecting the proposal. Accordingly having taken three anti-bilious pills, rolled up by Mrs. Crosby herself, the regular avant-couriers of his dinner, the old gentleman without saying one word more upon the subject to his lady, proceeded to Caroline's boudoir, where in the course of a quarter of an hour he had stated all the circumstances of Sir Mark's interview, and received the young lady's reply. What that reply was, my reader may perhaps anticipate — perhaps not : it was as cautious as the answer of a minister to a question from the opposition, upon the points of which he happens (as is sometimes the case) to be wholly ignorant : she neither accepted nor rejected the offer ; she inveighed against neither the age or dullness of Sir Mark ; she neither wept nor laughed at the prospect of becoming a wife:— during her father's gradual development of the matter,she thought of Sir Mark because he was talked of; and having placed him in her mind's eye by the side of the fascinating Morley, felt that nothing could induce her to endure him as a husband; but when the cu-cumstances progressively disclosed COUSIN WILLIAM. 85 themselves, when her father spoke of his worth, his title, his fortune, the recollection that Morley was certainly lost to her, the thought that by marriage she should escape the dullness of Crosby House, made more dreadful by the reflection that Morley never was to enUven its shades again, and tlie feel- ing that although placed independently in the world she should still remain in the neighbour- hood of her father, whom she truly loved — she wavered — faultered — and felt inclined at once to grasp the favourable opportunity of emancipation from such a siege of troubles as assailed her. Why then did she hesitate? — why did she take the precaution of asking time to con- sider the offer? — for such was her conditional reply. Cannot my reader anticipate where the influence existed, which would alone controul her conduct ? Baleful as that influence was, I suspect it is but too evident. She requested the delay of four dafys in giving her final answer, in order that she might take the advice of her cousin William, upon this decisive step of her life. Crosby, who was enchanted with the rational manner in which the child, as Mrs. Crosby called her, received the intelligence of the honours which awaited her, saw nothing but reason in 86 COUSIN WILLIAM. the required postponement of her decision, and even went so far as to express his approbation of her demand ; it is, therefore, needless to say* that it was acceded to^ and a note written by the old gentlonan to Sir Mark, containing a report of progress, and wishes on the part of the parent for the speedy admission of the lover's claim. No sooner had Crosby quitted his daughter's apartment than she proceeded to a confidentiai conference with Davis --this might be naturally expected — Davis was in a moment the strenuous advocate of the marriage — her reasons, delivered with considerable animation, for this prompt resolve, I shall decline detailing — their nature, however, may be guessed, when the reader is told that even the artless unsuspecting Caroline herself was alarmed at the prospect held up to her, and reproved her councillor, for the immorality of her suggestions; but the artful hussey, cunning as the first tempter, immediately shifted her ground and led her victim^s thoughts into a new channel, and concluded the discussion by second- ing her young lady"'s proposal to write to Morley for advice, upon the measures which she should adopt under the present circumstances. To find herself supported in the wish of her COUSIN WILLIAM. 87 lieart, to find ^friend, however humble, who would advise the step upon which she had herself before decided, was enough for the poor tremblings child ; and for the first time in her life called upon to act in a matter of the weightiest importance, half an hour had not elapsed ere the letter was written, sealed, and despatched ; a ceremony (brief as it was) which had scarce been conckided, before ]Mrs. Crosby made her appearance in the sanctum of her daughter-in-law. " Well, Caroline," said the lady, looking icebergs, " your father tells me he has ap- prised you of the proposal of Sir Mark Terring- ton — What do you think of the affair?"' " Why really," said Caroline, " the intelli- gence was so abruptly communicated, and the time elapsed since I heard it has been so short, that I hardly know M'hat to think." " I should wonder if you did, child," said Mrs. Crosby; "and, perhaps, I may be 'of some use in talking the matter over with you, and putting the business in a fair and proper light." " Why, to say truth,'' said Carojine, *' 1 am* not in the humour for serious discussion to-day — I am completely flurried, my head aches, my pulse beats, and I feel I hardly know how." 88 COUSIN WILLIAM. '^ Caroline," said Mrs. Crosby, " let me look at you, — heat — shivering — head-ache — delirium, eh — no rash, child — no bumps." " Ma'am ?" said Caroline. " Bumps I say, fcary," said Mrs. Crosby, rubbing the poor girl's forehead. " All your other symptoms closely resemble those of erysipe- las — don't you think you had better go to bed, dear, and take a sudorific.'''* '* I am conscious of no bodily ill," said Caro- line: " but it is not quite unnatural surely that so young a person as myself, should be powerfully affected by an offer, so sudden, so unexpected,and 8o important, as that which has been made me." " Stuff, Caroline," said the mother-in-law: *' what has the mind to do with shivering and heat?" " Everything, dear madam, everything," said Caroline; " and I must entreat, as the only fa- vour 1 have to ask, that during the period of deli- beration for which 1 have soUcited my father^ the subject to which you have just referred, may not again be alluded to." " Your father spoils you," said Mrs. Crosby; ** you think you can do what you please with him; but he is wrong, and so sireyou: however, COUSIN WILLIAM. 89 as he has granted all this time to consider a point which seems to me to require no consideration at all— so it must be ; the affair lies in a nut- shell — Sir Mark is too old for your husband, or rather I should say, you are too young for his wife. — As I told Mr. Crosby, it is all mighty well now^ but— hereafter — what will happen.^ — To be sure Sir Mark looks apoplectic, and may die before that time comes, in which case — *" " In which case," interrupted Caroline, " I should feel very little desire to survive him — Young and inexperienced as I am, I know enough of human nature to know that habitual attach- ments are the most powerful — and that although in the outset of our lives I may not feel that enthusiastic affection which a more congenial disposition and more fascinating manners might have excited, still before I marry, I must feel a regard and respect for Sir Mark, which will in progress of time so greatly strengthen the bonds by which we are bound, that such a separation as that which you anticipate with apparent satisfaction would, to a heart like mine, be worse than death itself." . " Well, my dear,"' said Mrs. Crosby, " you have mighty strange notions — I am older, and 90 COUSIN WILLIAM. bave seen more of the world and its ways, and I honestly confess I do not understand such feel- ings." ^* I hope," said Caroline somewhat archly, '* you don't speak feeb'ng'fi/ at all events." To what results this bold attack might have led, history does not permit me even to surmise ; for just as the bile was in agitation, and strong symptoms of choler were beginning to exhibit themselves in the countenance and manner of the elder lady, Davis entered the boudoir to announce that the prescribed half hour had nearly elapsed since the ringing of the first dinner bell ; a fact, which as neither of the fair ones had yet made her toilette, induced a speedy departure to their dressing rooms, and for the present broke up a conference which threatened to terminate somewhat stormily. COUSIN WILLIAM. 91 CHAPTER IV. When Devils will their blackest sins pu*; on, They do suggest at first with heavenly shews, As I do now. SUAKSFBARE. To attempt by words to develope the real views and intentions of Morley would be useless, since it is my wish that he should be judged by his actions ; therefore, shall I not wait to de- scribe to the reader the contending feelings by which he was agitated, when he received the artless detail contained in Caroline's letter, and read with breathless anxiety those hnes, in which she solicited his advice upon the proposal which she had received from the matter of fact Sir Mark Terrington. Involved as he was in the numerous avoca- tions, incidental to his approaching nuptials ; surrounded on all hands by lawyers with settle- 9^ COUSIN WILLIAM. ments, and creditors anxious to get them ; coach- makers in council about his carriages ; tailors pressing their suits and arranging his liveries ; upholsterers delivering curtain lectures ; wine- merchants proffering samples for his cellar; decorators besieging his doors, and puffing his taste in the papers ; horse-dealers storming his stables, and curiosity-mongers racing to fill his cabinets ; he lost no time in replying to the tender appeal of his bewitching cousin. When she made that appeal, she calculated that however occupied her cousin William might be with the things of the world in which he was destined to move, an application of hers would not long remain unat- tended to ; nor as it seems did she calculate amiss, for to her anxious inquiry, made to Davis on the Friday following, whether there were a letter for her, at the post office, her longing eyes were welcomed with a sight of the following lines. "Stevens's Hotel, July 7th, 1804. " Dearest Caroline, ** If the world knew that I was appealed to for advice upon such a point as that, on which you have chosen to consult me, you perhaps COUSIN WILLIAM. 03 might be laughed at for asking my opinion and I more gravely censured for giving it ; but I thank you a thousand, thousand times, for this new proof of your confidence. Rest assured, sweet girl, that your reliance on me shall never be abused; although for many reasons, which at our first meeting I will explain, I should not wish your father or mother to know that I had even indirectly influenced your conduct on the present occasion. '' As to my opinion, as to my counsel upon this important matter, they are contained in two words — Marry him. There ivas a time when I would sooner have shot myself through the head than have given such advice — Love, Caroline, genuine, true, pure, ardent love, never does, as I think, and never 'can, as I believe, prosper. You were— may I say it — you are — all the world to me — you know it — you are conscious of it — fate, fortune, destiny demanded the sacrifice of all my liopes, of all my wishes, of all the pos- sibility of happiness on earth. — I have made it, — and I am doomed to be linked to a being with whom I have no sentiment in common, A father's curse — a father's certain ruin (involved, too, by me) depended upon my refusal of this B4t COUSIN WILLIAM. hateful condition, and we — we — yes, you, beloved Caroline, and /, so warmly attached to each other, so suited to each other in every point (is it not so, dearest?) are sundered, — severed eternally. " What then remain sin this heart, which forever must glow with devotion to you — to occupy the space — the entirety— which love is forbidden to fill ? —an interest so deep, so vital, that the world to whcm it might be spoken of, could never comprehend it — that I may own — that I may cherish without fear, or sin, or shame — I glory in it. Why then does that interest prompt me to advise your union with Sir Mark Terrington? Hear ! — Your situation at Crosby is beyond measure melancholy -your father an invahd, the care of him taken out of your hands by one, an alien to your blood, and an intruder into your family — your life made a mere routiiie of me- chanical movements, unenlivened by one spark of that gaiety which, to a girl full of intellect and enthusiasm like yourself, is as essential toher healthful existence as the air she breathes. "What injury does the miser to the world, who hoards in his dusty closets, or secret caves, the diamonds, the pearls, the rubies he possesses ? — To draw a parallel between all these and the COUSIN WILLIAM. 95 charms which it would be vanity in you to affect not to know that you possess, would be some- what trite, and more common place than our words or feelings generally are ; but that you are a treasure, a bright gem, destined to adorn the best circles of society, is true — most true. Buried as you now are, what opportunity have you of being seen, what chance have your inesti- mable qualities of being known or appreciated ? Weigh all this ^^ell; for although I have ven- tured in the outset of the letter to advise, I in fact merely suggest ; confident that your own judgment and good sense will decide eventually for the best ; and I entreat you, sweetest, to give the subject your deliberate consideration; at the same tune I repeat that 1 think you should take into account the actual discomforts of your present position, and the probability that an ac- ceptable chance of so decidedly overcoming them may not speedily again offer itself in your pre- sent state of seclusion. " As for Sir Mark Terrington, what I have been of him is far from objectionable : he is just what the world calls a quiet gentlemanly man ; but what you and I might be inctlined to call a rather dull one. — What of that.? — he is extremely 96 COUSIN WILLIAM. good and very amiable, and I think would de- vote every thought and care of his existence to rendering his wife happy ; he is sufficiently rich to be quite at his ease in pecuniary matters ; and his rank and title will place you at least on the lower step of the Corinthian Temple of Fashion ; his fortune will give you all the opportunity of doing good in which your generous heart so truly delights ; 'you will no longer be subject to the ill temper of a mother-in-law, or the dis- cipline of her laboratory ; you will breathe the fresh air in peace and freedom, become the head of a family ; and after setting an example of every good quality in the country, burst upon London in all the splendour of youth, and beauty, and talent, and accomplishments. "In those pursuits we (I mean Lady Anne and myself) may not be unacceptable adjuncts — she is blue, and has the command of the literati ; she is an amateur, and the Italians are all at her beck — she has noble blood in her veins, and the wealth of Croesus in her purse ; her society is therefore sought and courted ; invitations to her parties are in request ; and to be the friend of Lady Anne Seward will be sufficient to ensure ray dearest cousin all that is necessary at her ( COUSIN WILLIAM. 97 entree to render her one of the brightest stars of our constellation. Consider this, and reflect that, however imperative I once thought our separation, while you remained single and unpro- tected ; when you are married and established in life, our acquaintance, sanctioned by your husband, and our near relationship, may be maintained, without a shadow of difficulty or impropriety. "If I remember Sir Mark aright, he talks truisms, and sits after Dilworth's directions, with one knee crossed over the other, and the second and third fingers of his right hand inserted into the button holes of his waistcoat.— Whatof these? he is as much a novice in the gay world as his lady will be: your sweet influence will soothe and soften him in the country, while if you con- sign him to my care in London, I will polish him up, so that in six months you shall scarcely know him again. " Take all these things into consideration: first, what you escape^rom ; secondly, what you are invited to. We must not be too sanguine in our anticipations, nor colour the prospective of life too highly ; rational enjoyments, moderate de- lights, and CO mfur table existence, should be the VOL. I. E ^8 COUSIN WILLIAM. ultimatum of mortal expectation. They are all offered to you in a marriage with Sir Mark Terrington ; therefore, I say again, according to my judgment, marry liim; but in again saying so, let me again implore you to trust the decision to your own excellent j udgment, and I am convinced that you will decide rightly. '' I have not a word more to say about myself, but that my day of execution is postponed until Thursday fortnight, when I am absolutely to be turned off. Adieu, dearest Gary, — I con- clude I shall soon have to say dearest Lady Terrington. That Heaven may bless you, is the prayer of your affectionate cousin, " W. MORLEY. " Of course this letter is not to be mentioned.'''* For a moment Caroline's eyes were £xed on her cousin William's letter ; for a moment she felt the instinctive inherent pride of virtue wounded by the positive protestations of love for her, which accompanied his advice to her to marry another ; but it was only for a moment — he loved her still — poor William — why then did he abandon her, and descend to the meanness of marrying a woman whom he confessed he COUSIN WILLIAM. 99 could not endure ? The answer was at hand in a moment — It was a sacrifice for no less an object than the preservation of a parent ; — surely that was commendable ; nay, he could not have acted otherwise; — yet still it was cruel to say he loved, at the moment he gave an opinion favour- able to her taking that step which must separate them eternally ; but then had not that separa- tion been as effectually decided before, by his marriage ? She had seen him tremble, weep like a child, when he spoke of that connection. If he loved her, why should he dissemble with her ? They were relations, educated, brought up together : was it not natural that her affec- tion for her cousin should be wholly different from that which she could entertain for Sir Mark ? Alas ! too truly did she feel that — yet were her thoughts and mind then, as pure and spotless as the driven snow. Her eyes hurried again over the letter ; she re-read the advice which it contained, and felt in a moment the full force of the contrast between her present situation and that which opened to her ; her avowed lover was amiable and excel- lent : her father strongly wished the marriage to take place ; William earnestly recommended F 2 100 COUSIN WILLIAM. her acceptance of the offer, although submitting to her superior judgment. Davis, as usual, was called into council, whose only question was as to the view whicfi Mr. Morley took of the subject, and whose vote, when Caroline informed her of the contents of his letter, of course coin- cided exactly with Ms suggestions. Suffice it to sav, the efforts of the coalition succeeded. — The die was cast. — I shall spare Caroline'*s blushes, her father'^s tears of joy, and the reader'^s patience, by merely saying, that after an interview between Mr. Crosby and his daughter, which terminated in a hearty embrace and blessing from the old gentleman ; a letter was despatched to Sir Mark Terrington, re- questing the pleasure of his company at dinner the following day. After this interview and acceptance, for ac- ceptance it was, if not of Sir Mark's hand, at least of the proposal of addressing her, Caroline felt more at ease than she had been for some time ; but there was a melancholy mingled with her tranquillity, to which she had heretofore been a stranger : she felt that she had decided the great question of her life, and consented to fore- go all hope of real happiness ; but in doing so she COUSIN WILLIiiM. 101 had gratified the wishes of her father, and, above all, followed the advice of her cousin Wilham ; yet it must be confessed, that the business-like mode in which the affair of love-making was to be conducted, was anything but cheering to a heart and mind like Caroline's ; although if the truth were known, and known it must be, the hope that by marrying and quitting her present residence, she might avail herself of the oppor- tunity held out in Morley's letter of enjoying his society (and that of his lady, perhaps) was the predominant passion which actuated her conduct upon the occasion. It is difficult I know to make the world be- lieve that a girl, listening to avowals of affection from one man at the moment she was following his advice to unite herself to another, or who gave in to a match where her heart could not be interested, merely in the expectation of being enabled to enjoy the society of an individual dearer to her than her husband, could be high minded, or delicate, or even innocent; yet Caroline Crosby was all of these, and pure and amiable as girl could be. She loved her cousin William dearly, and would have told her husband so, had she been married on the morrow — she would have gone farther, and told 102 COUSIN WILLIAM. him that she would have married her cousin William, had their union been possible — for she was so unworldly in her views, and so un- knowing in the ways 'of worldly folks, that she could not discover either impropriety or in- delicacy in loving her cousin, her relation, her play-mate, her friend, — as her cousin, — when all hope of being his wife was at an end ; it was for his good temper, his wit, his conversation, his accomplishments, that she loved him ; and she argued, or rather thought, — for lo say she argued with herself, would be to imply that she doubted the propriety of her own feelings — that she might love his society, and admire his qualities to the end of her life, without infringing any rule, or violating any principle of decorum. Platonic attachments, or what some high-flying independent ladies call " friendships" for men, are extremely well in theory ; and poor Caroline, who was yet only a theorist, and who placed her affection for Morley upon the score of relation- ship, believing that the love which he so unequi- vocally expressed for her, was of a similar nature to that which she admitted herself to feel for him^ saw, as I have just said, no more indelicacy in his avowals than a sister would discover in the pro- fessions of a brother's affection. So far as this COUSIN WILLIAM. 103 goes, it is not difficult to acquit her of vice — how far she will stand excused for admitting the ad- dresses of Sir Mark Terrington, as a means of escaping thraldom, securing her independence, joining in the gay world, and associating with her amiable relation, those will best decide who have lived in the medicated atmosphere of a sick house, under the domination of an icy step- mother, robbed of the only associate from whose society she derived any pleasure, and urged to an escape from all the evils which surrounded her by a father s solicitation to accept an excel- lent, kind, and honourable man for a husband, who was anxious to lay his large fortune and little title at her feet. At all events, however anxious I may be to put Caroline in a favourable point of view for the rigid examination she is doubtless doomed to undergo, her conduct is no affair of mine : I am merely the narrator, the journalist ; and being in no way either pledged to her good behaviour, or to be compromised by her misdeeds, I simply state facts — and leave my readers to make their own comments, and draw their own con- clusions. Suffice it to say, that the invitation forwarded to Stamfordleigh was answered in the affirma- 104 COUSIN WILLIAM. live by Sir Mark, in a note written in the clearest and most beautiful hand ; and that upon the receipt of it Mrs. Crosby issued special directions to her housekeeper 'to prepare a suitable dinner for the occasion — since, as it should be known, upon ordinary days the family table was decked out with light broths, panados, rice puddings, and that sort of cookery best adapted to the dreadful state of health which Mr. and Mrs. Crosby imagined themselves to be (what is called) enjoying. It would be difficult to describe the state of Mrs. Crosby^s feelings during the morning of the eventful day ; the fidgetty desire to have everything in the nicest possible order ; the anxiety that Caroline should appear to advan- tage, as having been brought up by her^ mingled with the mean jealousy of her attractions, because she was not her own child ; the fear that Sir Mark might be displeased, and the apprehension that he might be too much delighted — she was a strange compound ; and even when the baronefs carriage was actually grinding the gravel of the sweep, she had not made up her mind as to which she liked most, or rather disliked least, the advancement of her daughter-in-law to a rank superior to her own, or the riddance of her COUSIN WILLIAM. 105 influence over j\Ir. Crosby, and the division of allegiance amongst the servants and dependants of the family, which she perpetually fancied Caroline's presence induced. In the midst of this flutter of feelii^g — Caroline at her toilette — Mr Crosby in his dressing- room, and Mrs. Crosby in the drawing-room — the folding doors were flung open, and Sir Mark Terrington announced. He was dressed in an entirely new stone blue coat (chef dosuvre of the best and only tailor at Hildersham) a white waistcoat, sorrel coloured breeches, with plated buckles at the knees, and quite new bluish white silk stockings — his neckcloth, of the bolster school, without any visible shirt collar, was tied lightly round his neck, and his plump un whiskered cheeks fes- tooned over its upper edge, almost blue with health ; his hair, which was light, short, and thick, bristled on his head ; and his small unmeaning grey eyes, beaming with good nature, were down- cast as he approached the lady of the mansion ; who, considering the nature of his visit, extended one of her cold bony hands towards him, which was graciously and warmly received by Sir Mark, who, wishing to express his feelings upon F 3 106 COUSIN WILLIAM. the occasion somewhat enthusiastically, grasped the proffered tribute to friendship between two or three of his hard thick fingers, which closed upon the delicate danae's fifteen phalanges like scarlet nut-crackers, and made them absolutely snap, exciting at the same moment an exclama- tion of torture from their dignified mistress. Sir Mark coloured up— Mrs. Crosby looked at her wounded hdnd and affected to smile, which the baronet seeing, concluded nothing was the matter, and said nothing about it ; at the same moment Mr. Crosby, wrapped up in a loose great-coat, with his hat on, made his appearance, and in like manner submitted his fingers to the friendly pressure of his intended son-in-law's most formidable forceps. " Sir Mark,'' said Ci'osby, " I rejoice to see you; you will excuse my wearing my hat and great-coat, for I have had a touch of lum- bago during the night, and an unpleasant sen- sation about my eyes all day, which I appre- hend arises from cold. I was foolish enough yesterday afternoon to go across the stable-yard, to look at one of the carriage horses that is ill, when the wind was at north-east ; and to add to my misfortunes, I accidentally stepped in to COUSIN WILLIAM. 107 ^ puddle, which altogether has completely knocked me up: however, you must not be treated like a stranger, and, therefore, I know vou will forffive me.'*' " Certainly, Sir,'' said the baronet, ^' I think you are quite right : I have always observed that a hat keeps the head very warm, particularly in the house, where the air does not affect one so much as it does out of doors." "Yes,"said Mrs. Crosby, "soitdoes, Sir Mark.'" A pause in the conversation. " Where's Caroline, my dear?" said Crosby to his wife. " She will be down in a few minutes, my love," said Crosby's wife to Crosby. " Any news, Sir Mark .?" asked the master of the house. "Not much," said Sir Mark; "you have heard, I suppose, that Styles's son, Thomas, is going to be married to Oake's daughter ?'* " Oake's.^"" said Crosby, inquiringly. " Yes, the butcher at Babraham," said Sir Mark ; " the man that bred those fat sheep about two years ago, if you remember.*' " Ah !" said Crosby, not one whit the wiser. " He is a very deserving young man," said 108 COUSIN WILLIAM. the baronet ; " I hav e employed his father for many years : indeed, as long as I find people honest, and civil, and industrious, I never change; for I have always observed that it never answers to make alterations where there is no chance of improvement." " Very true, indeed. Sir," said Mrs. Crosby, as if the corroboration were in the smallest degree necessary. " The weather looks lowering, Mr. Crosby,'* said the baronet ; " I think we shall have rain." " The glass has fallen," said Crosby. "' Ah !'' said the baronet — " they want rain." Another pause. " Where can Caroline be .P" said Mrs. Crosby. ** Mr. Crosby, my dear, ring the bell." The bell was rung. " Miss Caroline is quite well I hope .^" -said Sir Mark. *'Why I cannot say she is, Sir," said her mother- in-law ; " indeed we are none of us ever quite well : I am always afraid when the scarlet fever is in the neighbourhood. Roberts's children and Mrs. Higgs** daughter are just out of it; and Caroline will go to church, say what I can to her ; and she has been complaining for the last COUSIN WILLIAM. 109 two or three days of chills and heats, and a slight sore throat. I made her take some broth to-day, and I hope, please God, she may — ''"' At this moment the doors of the drawing-room opening, presented to the eyes of the adoring Sir Mark, the lovely object of their discussion, blooming in beauty, and glowing with the radiance of the most perfect health ; she being on her arrival (purposely timed by herself) followed by the butler to announce dinner ; for she wiselycalculatcd that the bustle and confusion of proceeding to the dining-room, would cover her embarrassment, and that of her professed admirer, and at all events get rid of the odious half hour before the repast. Sir Mark rose, and having made his obeisance, proceeded to offer his hand to Mrs. Crosby, Crosby being-attended by his blooming daughter; and in this order they proceeded across the Hall to the salle a manger. Every body has observed that whenever parti- cular pains and trouble are expended to makeup an agreeable party, the scheme universally fails ; and upon the present occasion the endeavour to put Sir Mark perfectly at his ease, by inviting nobody to meet him, was equally unsuccessful. 1 10 COUSIN WILLIAM. Any of the ordinary visitors of Crosby Hall, the rector, the attorney even, — anybody to have broken the solemn uniformity of the partie quarre — would have been a' most charming relief: as it was, the silence and gravity were unmitigated ; while the interest created amongst the servants, to examine with proper scrupulousness the avowed lover of their young lady, (for so he had been confidentially announced by Mrs. Davis to be) prompted them to rivet four pair of unmeaning eyes upon the worthy baronet ; the consciousness of which inspection, added to his habitual bashful- ness, placed him in the most uncomfortable possible condition ; while Caroline, anxious for his coup d'essai, waited with exemplary patience for some sign, if not of rationality, at least of animation. The worthy baronet accepted the proffered soup from the servant. "Are you really going to take soup, Sir Mark .?" said Mrs. Crosby. " Yes, if you please," said Sir Mark Terrington. " Take the pulverized ginger to Sir Mark," said the lady of the liouse to the butler. Instantly, a huge bottle, labelled accordingly, was presented to Sir Mark. " None, I thank you," said the baronet. COUSIN WILLIAM. Ill " Sir Mark," said Mrs. Crosby, *' there is a great proportion of vegetable matter in that soup, and it is absolute poison without a cor- rective — permit me to do it for you." Saying which, she kindly dipped a large thickly- perforated spoon into tJie bottle, and in a trice scattered at least two ounces of its contents on the surface of Sir Mark's soup. " Now stir it up. Sir Mark, and I'll venture to say you'll suffer nothing." Now Sir Mark liaving, thanks to Providence, an excellent constitution, never anticipated any great suffering from eating a plate of soup, and would rather have dispensed with the bane than have mixed with it the antidote ; however, the intention of Mrs. Crosby was everything, and the worthy baronet began the operation of de- molishing the medicated mess which her assi- duity had arranged for him. But he was not prepared for all his misery ; none of the family ate soup, nor would they be persuaded to commence eating fish until Sir Mark had finished his jorum. The caloric of the soup superadded to the heat of the ginger, rendered this operation somewhat lengthy, as the Americans say ; and at least seven minutes were occupied in 112 COUSIN WILLIAM. its consumption — the perfect silence of the party rendering more than usually audible the noise which the worthy baronet somewhat gothically made in sipping it. * "Have you taken your Barclay, my love?" said Mrs. Crosby to her husband. " No, I quite forgot it," said Crosby. " Robert," said Mrs. Crosby, and turning to a very thin, very pale footman, who was her great favourite, and took physic three times every week, whispered some directions in his ear, to obey which he speedily vanished. During all this ceremony, Caroline could not avoid observing that Sir Mark, in addition to the ardour of the pursuit in which he was engaged, was enduring the full blaze of the sun directly in his eyes, nor could she avoid asking him, whether he did not find the glare excessive. " Not in the least, I thank you," said Sir Mark most amiably, his face absolutely crimsoned with the heat, and his purple veins starting at his temples. The sickly footman returned with the Barclay, which the baronet had concluded to be nourishing brown stout for the invalid, but which turned out to be neither more nor less than a box of roUSIN WILLIAM. 113 pills, one of which Mr. Crosby Avas in the habit of swallowing before he began to eat, as an artillery man fires a blind shell to ascertain the correctness of his range before he begins in earnest. " Hutchins," said Mrs. Crosby, in the act of helping the fish — " has there been a spoon boiled with these trout ?"" " Yes, Madam,'' said the butter. " We are very particular. Sir Mark,'' said the lady ; *■' and I never suffer a morsel of fish to be tasted which has not undergone the test of seasonableness : when the fish is likely to be injurious to the stomach, the spoon boiled in the water with it, becomes tarnished." '* Indeed, Ma'am !" said Sir Mark. " Mr. Crosby, my dear, don't eat any trout," said Mrs. Crosby ; " don't you recollect the last time you ate trout, you had an attack of pleu- risy ? Let me persuade you to take some of the rice of that curry, with a little salt to it." *« I will, my angel," said Crosby, and he be- gan preparing a mess accordingly. '•} If you eat fish, Sir Mark," continued the exemplary lady, " let me recommend you some of our medicated soy. [lutchins, the medicated 114 COUSIN WILLIAM. soy to Sir Mark : I assure you it will prevent ali ill efFects.'^ Sir Mark allowed himself to be helped to the medicated soy, and 'in return for his future mother-in-law's attention, solicited the honour of drinking a glass of wine with her. " I would rather be excused, Sir Mark," said Mrs. Crosby ; " but here is a young dissipated person, who will I dare say be my proxy.'' Sir Mark became more crimson than ever. "With great pleasure, Sir Mark," said Caroline bowing, and giving him one of her very best natured smiles ; for with all her inexperience she saw the embarrassment of her new acquaintance, and pitied him extremely ;'not perhaps with that pity which is akin to fcve : however, they went through all the forms, bowed again ; she put her hps to the glass. Sir Mark drank his wine in haste, and with downcasteyes, not even venturing to look upon the object of his affections. At this period of the repast, Mr. Crosby was compelled to quit the table. Sir Mark apprehended some sudden indis- position ; the family, accustomed to such events, took no notice of his evanishment, but appeared intensely occupied with their plates. COUSIN WILLIAM. 115 " Mr. Crosby is not, ill. Ma'am ?'' said the baronet, inquiringly. "Not ill. Sir Mark!" said Mrs. Crosby, " when is he well ? — he is^ not particularly ill at this moment — he'll be back very soon ; but pray take no notice of his having been absent ; his spasms are at times so violent, that take what he will there is no conquering them : only don't ask him any questions when he returns, it agi- tates him. — Caroline, my dear, some chicken .?'* ^' None, thank you," said Caroline, who, to say truth, was quite absorbed in contemplating the unromantic matter-of-fact details of eating and drinking, through which Sir Mark was toiling, under the influence of good health and a pro- digious and most unlover-like appetite. " Will you take some wine noxv, Mrs. Crosby,^'' said Sir Mark. " 1 know you'll forgive me," said the lady; " do you take wine, I entreat, and I will take half a tea-cup-full of acidulated barley-water to your Madeira." *' May / be of the party,"" said Caroline, archly resuming her almost untouched glass of wine. "Upon 772,2/ word, Miss," said Mrs Crosby, one- 116 COUSIN WILLIAM. third in jest and two- thirds in earnest, " in my early days, young ladies of sixteen were not in the habit of offering themselves." " Sixteen !" said Sir Mark, unable to conceal his surprise — " dear me, Mrs. Crosby — why — do you know I thought Miss Crosby nearly twenty." " That is no great compliment, Sir ]\Iark," said Caroline. *' Why, dXyoxir age it is/' said Mrs. Crosby : *' a mistake of three or four years, some twenty years hence, indeed, would be an unpardonable breach of politeness ; but while in her teens, a girl cares little for being thought a little older than she really is — however, in truth, Sir Mark, Cary is just seventeen.**' " Dear me !" said the baronet, venturing for once to cast his eyes over the graceful form of the half laughing, half blushing girl — " Well !* — to be sure, — how one may be deceived?"" " The truth is, Sir Mark, said Mrs. Crosby, " the girls of the present day are so much more forward than their mothers were at the same age, not only in manner and intellect, but in figure, that there is no judging as one used to do. Twenty years ago, a girl of fifteen was a mere COUSIN WILLIAM. 117 baby, breathing the heated air of the nursery, and dandling a doll as big as hei-self : but. Sir Mark, Doctor Buchan has done more towards improving the health and shapes of our girls than any man living." " Indeed !'' said Sir Mark. " Indeed has he !" continued the enthusiastic Mrs. Crosby; "why before ^ii- time thepoorthings were wrapped up, and screwed up in stays, and bodices, and what not, till they were like so many Egyptian mummies; but Buchan had off all their wrappings, and bindings, and things, and popped them into the cold bath ; and then made them run about and play ; and, in short, by giving their limbs and bodies room to grow, deserves the credit of that healthful forwardness which characterizes the figures of young women of the present period."" " What is the gentleman's name, Ma'am ?'' said Sir Mark, who appeared particularly anxious to obtain some further information touching a person whose exertions in the female world appeared to have been crowned with such une- quivocal marks of success. " Buchan, Sir Mark, — did you never hear of him r 118 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Not that I can call to mind," said Sir Mark; " but I may have heard him spoken of, for I often observe to myself that my memory is not particularly retentive, unless what I hear is about something which interests me."" " If Buchan had never written. Sir, that gentleman would not have been sitting there," said Mrs. Crosby pointing to her spouse, who had returned very quietly, almost unobserved, to his seat at the bottom of the table. '' How are you now, Sir ?' said Sir Mark to his future father-in-law. "Don't ask," interrupted Mrs. Crosby, "it only fidgets him ; and besides the details, perhaps — Now, Hutchins, take away these things — I pre- sume you don't eat cheese ?'^ continued the lady to her visitor. " I ? — no,'' said the baronet : " if there is no cheese, I — ^'^ " There is cheese, Sir Mark, of course," said Mrs. Crosby smiling ; " but let me advise you, unless you wish to die a martyr to rheumatism, never to eat cheese." "Rheumatism !"" said Sir Mark, " I should'nt have thought — '' " Certain, Sir Mark — certain," exclaimed Mr. COUSIN WILLIAM. 119 Crosby from the bottom of the table : " as much mustard, stewed prunes, and coddled apples, as you please, but no cheese." " Indeed !" muttered Sir Mark, who by no means approved of the Crosby system of punish- ing a good constitution for fear it might become bad ; " the rheumatism, Sir, is a dreadful dis- order, and nothing, I have often observed, is more disagreeable than seeing persons suffer. — I need hardly add, except suffering oneself" " Very true, indeed," said Caroline, who, whenever her admirer pumped up a? platitude with the air of a man who has made a prodigious discovery, reverted not only to her cousin William's observations on his peculiarity, but alas ! to cousin William himself. The dessert put down, and Hutchins and his staff retired, the conversation flagged most terribly, the whole of the discussion being as to the wholesomeness of strawberries and the bale- fulness of melons, enlivened by an elaborate detail from Sir Mark, of a robbery committed on his grapery, three years before ; upon which occasion he purchased some of his own fruit in a shop in London. This event, which to him appeared not only interesting, but positively miraculous, he recounted with an accuracy and 120 COUSIN WILLIAM. minuteness scarcely credible ; the weight of the bunches, the name of the gardener, as well as that of the woman he married, the date of the theft, and the very »hour of the purchase, were aJ] stated with an exactitude far beyond the com- prehension of Caroline, whose mind rested upon other matters than bunches of grapes, and w hose surprise that such affairs could occupy any man's mind, gave place to that which she felt on dis- covering that Sir Mark's mind was adequate to the retention of so many names and circum- stances, however trivial and unimportant. Wise would it have been for poor Caroline, if acting upon the impulse of the moment, and guided by her own feelings, she had unequivo- cally expressed her real opinion of the amiable dullard who aspired to her hand — but she was under an over weaning influence, and seeing in all the disagreeables before her, a passport to the world, society, and the friendship of Morley, she determined at once to blind herself to all the evils, which she had sufficient tact to per- ceive and appreciate upon this first association with Sir Mark, and take the plunge which was to make or mar her. On the contrary, Sir Mark read in Caroline's courteous smiles and easy famiharity, kindness, COUSIN WILLIAM. 121 affection, and dawning love. He knew too little of the world, to distinguish between the care- less freedom of an unaffected girl towards one, entirely indifferent, and the tender shrinking apprehension of her, who trembles lest she should betray what she would give the world to reveal. The restraint which the customs of the world liave put upon the conduct of females renders the best amongst them more or less hypocrites. How hard this is — that the ino^enuous confidino- qualities of woman's heart should be thus tortured and spoiled ; and yet so it micst be while the present order of things lasts. It is true, they have looks for those who are skilled in such lore; and as the wise ones tell us, have two eyes to say yes, and but one tongue to say no. The studies of Sir Mark, however, had not turned his thoughts much that way ; and when he saw the frank open manner of Caroline, he thought the day was won ; but encouraged as he was, he resolved to push the advantage already gained; and after a few glasses of wine, taken under the inspection of Crosby, who, of course, drank none, praised in the most glowing language of which he was master, tJie charms of person and manner in Caroline, VOL. I. G 122 COUSIN WILLIAM. which it seemed had quite overwhelmed him, although he certainly had betrayed no symp- toms of a wound during her presence. Coffee having been announced, Sir Mark, encouraged by the kindness of the ladies when he joined them, and animated by the wine he had swal- Jowed, most gallantly proposed a stroll through the grounds, so soon as the regale should be concluded. Little did the worthy baronet surmise, that Mrs. Crosby would rather have died outright than venture on turf after two o'clock in the day. Little did he imagine the importance of a request to "go out and take a little walk," when he made the suggestion : however, if he had been really plotting and manceuvering, the thing could not have turned out better ; for Mrs. (yrosby, who had no more delicacy than a kitchen-maid, feel- ing and understanding that all the dull proceed- ings of this to her, doubly dull day, were gotten up to forward a match between two particular individuals of the party, thought the more rapidly the matter was brought about, by giv- ing the you7ig people an opportunity to talk to each other, the better; replied to the proposition of the baronet, as far as she herself was concerned, COUSIN WILLIAM. 123 ill the negative; but added, that Carohne would be charmed to shew him the new walk, which had been just cut through the shrubberies, and the new piece of water, and the boat-house, and the root-house, and the liermitage, and all the other beauties of the place. Sir Mark cast a hesitating look towards the smiling girl, who instantly agreed to the arrange- ment, and quitted the drawing-room to make preparations. "Cork soles, my dear," cried Mrs. Crosby, "clogs — a tippet — don't forget your shawl." Which exclamation had nearly awakened Mr. Crosby from a profound sleep, into which he had fallen, from having been recommended by his lady to take thirty drops of laudanum in a cup of penny-royal tea after dinner, to set his stomach to rights. Davis, by some accident, had doubled the dose, but to save trouble, let it go as it was. In a few moments Caroline appeared ready equipped for the ramble. As she approached, Sir Mark felt a sort of nervous apprehension, and would have given twenty guineas, rather than undertake the progress tete a Ute. — He looked wistfully at Mrs. Crosby, in whom he felt he had G 2 124 COUSIN WILLIAM. an advocate, and thought to himself, if she had been of the party he would have had some sup- port ; for he knew the weakness of his social powers in female society, and was perfectly con- scious of his inability to keep up that conver- sational coronella, which if one of the players be a bungler, so often falls to the ground, that the proficient at last thinks it hardly worth taking up again. Off they went, however, and Caroline walked by his side along the broad gravel walk, which leads strait from the terrace at the back of Crosby House, with her eyes cast down, and her ears open, to catch the sound of his voice. — Two hundred yards had elapsed and not a syllable. '■^ Hem," said Sir Mark. Caroline looked at her companion — > " A very pleasant young gentleman, Captain Morley, Miss Crosby," said Sir Mark. He had better have said anything else, " Yes, he is, indeed," said Caroline. "He is going to be married,"" said Sir Mark. "Yes, and I hope he will be happy," said Caroline. " I hope so too,'' said Sir Mark. A silence, awful in the extreme, followed this COUSIN WILLIAM. 1S5 iittle burst, and they walked on. Caroline's eyes being, I am afraid, filled with tears. However, a bonnet, then the fashion, hid the sparkling orbs from the observation of Sir Mark, and without any farther attempt at conversation they reached the hermitage. " This is the hermitage, I suppose," said Sir Mark. " Yes, it was built from a design of my cousin William's," said Caroline. " Will you like to rest in it a little ?'"' said the baronet with an air of gallantry. " If you please," said Caroline ; and she sat down on the bench where she sat with Morley on that evening when their hearts spoke to each other, and their souls communed together. — Where her thoughts were, who can doubt ? — A sudden chill ran through her whole body, and as suddenly the blood rushed to her cheeks ; she could not have answered had she been spoken to, and she trembled lest her companion should address her. — A word at the moment would have overcome her ; but he was silent, and she turned from him, and, leaning on her hand, gazed through one of the rustic windows, which opened on the lake. Her heart beat, and her pulse throbbed, and her vivid imagination was 126 COUSIN WILLIAM. filled with a bright and beautiful vision of love and happiness, never now to be realized by her. After a long pause, Sir Mark Terrington said, " Are you fond of dogs. Miss Crosby V To attempt a description of Caroline's feeling:s at this moment is perfectly impossible ; the effect however may be conceived when I say, that in the midst of her heart-rending grief — in the midst of the ten thousand conflicting passions which were agitating and torturing her, the ab- solute absurdity and inanity of such a question, put under such circumstances, struck her so forcibly, that she burst into an hysterical fit of laughter, so unequivocally contemptuous, that anybody, other than the worthy baronet actually engaged in the affair, would have observed the sensation he had created, and beat a rjetreat in double quick time. Not so Sir Mark ; he was, although perhaps somewhat startled at the vio- lence of Miss Crosby's mirth, rather gratified than otherwise at having so successfully excited her feelings, and followed up his effective ques- tion with another. " No ! but are you though ?" " Very fond indeed, Sir Mark," said Caroline, struggling to correct and check herself, but very nearly bursting into tears at the same moment. COUSIN WILLIAM. 127 " Why, do rjou know," said the baronet, *' I like dogs, because I have always observed that they are faithful and constant in their attach- ments. Miss Crosby.'* And here Caroline felt, that, strange as was the mode which he had adopted, the lover was now coming forward ; and that having oddly enough brought the conversation to the apposite topics of attachment and constancy, he would draw the thread a little farther, and touch upon the inte- resting subject which the " old people" evidently intended him to agitate during the walk, so in- artificially gotten up ; and which, it must be confessed, the younger person of the two thought inevitable under all the circumstances of the case. Caroline's heart beat faster and stronger ; she felt she would give the world, that he should not say a word about his feelings just then ; at a time, and in a place, which recalled so power- fully the recollection of her dear William. Her head was still averted ; she heard Sir Mark sigh deeply. — The critical moment had evidently arrived. " I once, — ■" said Sir Mark, — and he hesitated and sighed again — " I once. Miss Crosby, knew what it was " JS8 COUSIN WILLIAM. Caroline held her breath, and pressed her lips close together, in an agony of dread and expec- tation. " — To have a very large dog : he was of the true Newfoundland breed, black, with a white patch upon his breast ; he would dive after anything which I threw into the water. I used to call him Pompey, Miss; but he was stolen from me, and as I have often said to myself when I have been alone and thinking a good deal, the worst of having that sort of pet is, that it gives one so much pain to lose it- — one misses it when it is first gone, just like a wife, or a child, or anything else one has got used to. — I remember a droll gentleman of my acquaint- ance, who made a very ingenious jest upon my Pompey. He asked me what I thought my dog was worth, and I said I would not sell him for any money ; but as for his worth, I added, it might be all fancy, and a thing in the market was only worth what it would fetch ; to which he replied, ' then your dog is inva- luable, for he will fetch any thing you send him for.'" Had nature unkindly desired that we should think aloud, here, I verily believe would have terminated the acquaintance of Sir Mark Ter- COtJSIN WILLIAM. 129 rington and jNIiss Caroline Crosby ; for (such is the anomalous construction of a woman's mind,) the contempt she felt for his puerile disappoint- ment of her expectations, for the fulfilment of which she had rallied all her energies, by far exceeded in force and power any gratification she experienced at the temporary reprieve from a declaration. She, however, little knew Sir Mark — he had as much idea of coming to the point during that walk, as he had of discovering the longitude ; to make a proposal, on a first tete a Ute^ appeared to him the very acme of indiscretion, rudeness, and precipitancy ; and there, might Carohne have sat until this very moment, with the bright moon shining on her white forehead, and the fresh breeze sporting with her jetty curls ; and for all Sir Mark did or intended to do, she might have sat there till Doomsday, had not Davis, Nvho had been sent in quest of her young lady, with an ad- ditional cloak and clogs, served the lovers as Saint Patrick served the Irish snakes and toads, and awakened "them to a sense of their situation."" . What Davis anticipated to find that situation, I cannot pretend to surmise, but her approach towards the hermitage was announced by two G 3 330 COUSIN WILLIAM. or three of those gentle inartificial coughs, which do not result from cold, but which serve as signals upon various occasions under the direction of females educated in certain schools, and versed in certain arts and sciences. Not a syllable had escaped the lips of either of the young people for nearly ten minutes after the dog stbry, nor for ten minutes pre- vious to the very seasonable arrival of the sou- brette — the last word which had been spoken dropped from Caroline, who had said, ^'yes, very," in answer to an observation of Sir Mark's, that the '^ moon was veiy bright ;" — and it must be observed that when Davis entered the her- mitage, and saw the perfect placidity of the scene, and how remotely distant from each other the enamoured pair were placedg she seemed, if not disappointed at the appearance of things, at least mortified at the waste of breath which she had expended upon the various announcements of her proximity and approach. " I have brought your cloak and clogs, Miss Caroline," said she — "your mamma thought you were staying out too late." Caroline thought so too. *' I hope, Miss Caroline," said the baronet. COUSIN WILLIAM. 131 "your papa wo'nt think that I kept you out — I thought you had better have gone in, a long time ago, but I did not Uke to hurry you/' " Oh," said Carohne, " you know how careful we are here, of each other's health — I dare say we shall not get scolded — however, I am quite ready, Sir Mark." And accordingly, having enveloped herself in the proffered mantle, she waited to see whether her professed lover, like the glow-worm, miglit not shine a little more as it grew darker, and to ascertain whether he would offer her his arm ; but she waited in vain — he seemed satisfied that upon such a liberty he could not yet presume, and he walked quietly beside her, Davis closely foUowino;. " There is a great deal of dew falling this evening,*" said Sir Mark. " Yes," answered Caroline. " How beautiful a dew-drop looks when the sun shines on it in a morning," said Sir Mark. " Very,'' said Caroline. Mrs. Davis was again affected with a slight cough. " I suppose your papa does not walk out much. Miss Caroline," said Sir Mark. 132 COUSIN WILLIAM. '' Very seldom," said Caroline. " I should think it must be very dull for him, being so much confine4 as he is, with nobody here but yourselves," said Sir Mark. Davis's cough was worse than ever ; and Caroline was a good deal puzzled how to reply to the observation, because the only answer she could possibly gite, would inevitably produce, even from Sir Mark, a little bit of flattery — a pause, therefore, ensued. " I hope," said Sir Mark, after a lapse of an hundred yards, " I shall have the pleasure of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Crosby and yourself at Stamfordleigh before the autumn sets in, for it looks best in summer. Indeed, I have often ob- served, that the country is never seen to advan- tage in the winter ?" Before the autumn sets in — thought Caroline, what can he mean ? '* The leaves are a great advantage to trees," said Sir Mark ; " and the foliage about the house at Stamfordleigh is particularly advantageous, because it shuts out the view of the offices : and I should like you to see it looking its best." " You are very kind, Sir Mark," said Caro- line ; " I shall be most happy to accompany my COUSIN WILLIAM. 133 father and Mrs. Crosby, whenever tiiey go to you.'^ "You are very good, Miss Carolme,'* said Sir Mark : " I hope I shall be able to make it pleasant to you. I will ask two or three friends of mine to meet you, for it would be very dull with only our own party." Mrs. Davis was again troubled with a cough, and how many more relapses she might have had in the course of the conversation, it is impossible for me to surmise, had not the party at this juncture regained the house, into which no sooner had they entered, than Caroline bounded up stairs to her room to divest herself of her wrapping up, and take the same opportunity of unfolding her mind to Davis as to the merits of her swain. There can be little doubt of the nature of her details; but she had sufficient quickness to perceive, that although shy, dull, and matter- of-fact in the extreme, there was a compensat- ing goodness of heart and kindly feehng in his composition and character ; and having, as she has before told us, made up her mind that she could never love again, she felt, however much inclined to laugh at the mauvaise J34 COUSIN WILLIAM. honte of her admirer, that his virtues were suffi- cient to secure her esteem, even though his merits were not equal to the ^excitement of her admira- tion. In short, to all the inclination she felt of quitting the solitude of Crosby Hall, of the dull- ness of which Sir Mark himself had, with more candour than civility, declared to her his perfect conviction, she ^dded the influential advice of Morley, and determined to make herself agree- able to a man, from whom she was assured she should meet with kindness and affection, and whose marriage with her, was an object desirable to her cousin William. Davis, who had her cue, employed all her art in improving upon this disposition, and although her natural love of thie ridiculous and quickness in the perception of it, prompted those little expres- sions of mirth at the naturalness of Sir Mark's conduct and conversations, she took the same ground as her young mistress, and even ventured to improve upon her views of the subject, by hinting, that as society was constituted, a very wise husband was not a very desirable thing ; and that, at all events, to be conscious of a supe- riority could not be disagreeable, inasmuch as the power of domination is everywhere desirable : COUSIN WILLIAM. 135 SO that assailed from some quarters, flattered in others, advised in several, and encouraged in the affair in all, Caroline was to his " — — virtues very kind, And to his faults a little blind :" which disposition induced a determination on her part to become Lady Terrington, as soon as she might be duly summoned to surrender. In the meanwhile, Sir Mark had fixed old Crosby in a Ute a Uie — Mrs. Crosby having retired, in order, as it should seem, that their con- versation might not be interrupted ; for as Caroline was passing along the lobby, to descend to the drawing-room, she was called by her mother-in- law into her boudoir, and requested not to go down, until they were inquired for, by Mr. Crosby. " Well, Sir Mark," said Crosby—" how did you like your walk ?^' " It was quite delightful, Sir," said Sir Mark. " You were in no hurry to come back," said Crosby — " good sign, Sir Mark." "Yes, Sir," said Sir Mark— " I told Miss Caroline I hoped you would not think / kept her out." 136 eOUSIN WILLIAM. *' But I think you did^' said Crosby, " and I hope you did — how did she take it ?" " What, Sir !" said Sir Mark, with a look of perfect amazement. " Why, I suppose you popped," — said Crosby. " Popped !" echoed the baronet. *' Aye, to be sure !" said Crosby, ^' no time for popping hke moonlight ; with the dear creature hanging on your arm — and the '* " 1 do assure you. Sir,*' interrupted Sir Mark, looking terrified at the implied accu- sation-—" upon my honour, Sir, Miss Crosby never took my arm." "The deuce she didn't!" said Crosby— "Why, did she refuse your offer of it ?" " Dear Mr. Crosby," said Sir Mark, " I never made such an offer. You know I never had the pleasure of being left alone in that way with Miss Crosby before, and- *" "But, my dear friend," said Crosby, who was terrified lest his daughter should be disgusted with the awkwardness of her suitor's approaches, " what on earth did you take that walk for?" " Why, Sir, to look at all the water you have made lately," said Sir Mark. " To look at the water !" exclaimed Crosby : COTTSIN WILLIAM. 137 "Why you dont mean seriously to say, my dear Sir Mark, that you did not pop — I am sure you did— come, be plain, how did she re- ceive your suggestion ?'' " I made no suggestions, Sir, at all," said the baronet, " except that I thought Miss Carohne had better not walk upon the grass while there was so much dew falling; indeed, if you desire it. Sir, I have no objection to repeat every word that passed." " But, my dear fiiend," interrupted Crosby, " I — really hardly ki)ow what to say upon the subject ; except to observe, that your visit to- day being made expressly as a commencement of that particular connection, the establishment of which you seem so earnestly to wish ; and that Caroline herself being apprized of your views and ulterior object, she, perhaps, may feel that your total evasion of the subject — "" " Dear me, Mr. Crosby," said Sir INIark — " I do assure you, if I had thought it right to say anything to the point, I should have done it ; for as I very often think to myself, unless a man begins, he never can go on ; and I need hardly add, the case holds good in love as well as in anything else.'* 138 COUSIK WILLIAM. " Why, then, my dear friend," said Crosby, *^ did'nt you practise as you preach ? — My girl is full of vivacity and intelligence ; and as perhaps you have heard the proverb of " Faint heart — why I—" " I beg your pardon," interrupted Sir Mark : '*what is the proverb you refer to, Sir?'' " Faintheart ne'er wonfair lady, Sir Mark !'* said Crosby, half vexed at the immovabihty of his intended son-in-law. " Oh, I beg pardon," said the baronet, without moving a muscle — " I see — I have heard that before — go on. Sir." "Faith I have little further to go," said the old gentleman, " I must just ring for my infusion of tamarinds, for I feel my throat husky, and my hands hot. All I mean to say is. Sir Mark, that as you and I perfectly agree in our views respecting my daughter, I wish you had taken some means of ascertaining personally, whether she is willing to receive your attentions in that character, which you have requested my permission to assume." At this juncture^ a servant arriving was dis- patched for the infusion ; a circumstance which gave Sir Mark an opportunity of collecting his COUSIX WILLIAM. 139 scattered intellects. Still, however, the conversa- tion was not resumed, until the said infusion made its appearance, and had been swallowed ; when, just as the man was quitting the room, Sir Mark exerting himself, called to him in an audible voice, to know whether his carriage had arrived. Upon being informed that it had, the agitated, yet excellent baronet, jumped up, as if taking advantage of the temporary presence of the butler to make an effort : seized the hand which Mr. Crosby had doomed to a fit of the gout with great fervour, and in a tone of some- thing like feeling, said emphatically — " God bless you. Sir, — good evening — you shall hear from me to-morrow." Crosby essayed to get up, — endeavoured to speak, but his astonishment at his companion's abruptness, and a slight touch of imaginary rheumatism in his hip, prevented his succeeding, until his eyes beheld Sir Mark quit the apart- ment in double quick time ; the butler, who had been holding the door, closing it upon his retreat, and shutting out of the sight of his intended father-in-law, the head of the House of Terrington. 140 COUSIN WILLIAM, CHAPTER V. I Why are thine«eyes tbus fix'd ? What means this posture ? Thou look'st a very statue of surprise ; As if a lightning blast had dried thee up. And had not left thee moisture for a tear. Maetyn. What a striking contrast to the negative ad- vances of Sir Mark Terrington, in the country, did the splendid preparations for Morley's mar- riage in London afford : all that taste could devise, or wealth execute, was put in requisition for the approaching nuptials of Carollne''s cousin William with his Eldorado divinity — the bright- ness of her charms shed its splendor over her in- tended husband, and brought to view ten thousand good qualities which till then had lain concealed ; and while its radiance thus successfully ex- hibited his merits and virtues, it dazzled the eyes of those who, before, were wont to seek for his faults and imperfections. He was now uni- COUSIN WILLIAM. 141 versally popular, universally praised, and his taste and his talents were eulogized from the corner of Bond-street to the end of Pall Mall ; a space, which, however small in fact or law, com- prises morally and conventionally, if not the whole universe, certainly all London. Amongst those most delighted with the pro- spect before him, Mor ley's father was not the least enthusiastic. In the proposed union he saw not only splendor and fortune for his son, but a speedy extrication from embarrassments of his own ; and it must be confessed that his candour kept pace with his satisfaction, for wherever he went he made his motives for pressing the mar- riage upon William perfectly understood ; which candour, after all, had its origin in paternal vanity ; for old Morley was one of those men, who, although perpetually at war with their sons on matters of finance, secretly glory in the ad- vancement of the youths, and are pleased and tickled by the attentions paid to their hopeful scions, whose faults and follies are at the same time constant subjects of contention and irrita- tion. He, therefore, exulted, first, in having a son able to command such wealth and connection as those ensured by a marriage with the Lady 142 COUSIX WILLIAM. Anne ; and, secondly, in having a son who would sacrifice his inclinations to the wishes of his father. William Morley, in his own particular circles, flourished off sundry declarations, differing in cer- tain particulars from those published and circu- lated by the old^ gentleman; but the spirit of which, was precisely the same : he, surrounded by those who had been the boon companions of all his profligate hours, laughed at the credulity of his intended wife, vaunted his own potentiality as a lady-killer, and bragged of the triumphs he had won, and the victims he had abandoned, for the sake of the gold which had been hoarded through a long minority, but - which he promised them should be scattered forth to fertilize and'fructifv their future fields of action : nay, even did this gallant gay Lothario descend to jests upon her ladyship's personal defects, and wittily attribute to the absence of one of her ladyship'*s eyes, the facility with which he had gotten on the blind side of her. There were amongst those who heard this undisguised avowal of his real feelings towards the woman, to whom he was on the eve of pledging his faith for life, some who did not COUSIN WILLIAM. 143 smile at the declaration, nay, one or two ventured to dissuade him from a connection, founded merely upon convenience and specula- tion, assuring him that happiness never could be expected from such a marriage; but Morley was too wise, and too well read in the world, to believe that anything like domestic life, or retirement within the magic circle of home, could be comfortable, even were the partner of that home an angel ; and, therefore, in his replies to such lectures (as he called them) he set forth the innumerable advantages of a wealthy woman for a wife, inasmuch as, however disagreeable she might be, her funds afforded the best means of enjoying the good things of the world without her. Some of his friends looked grave and shook their heads ; others laughed until they shook their sides ; all seemed to agree that Morley was a wild fellow : but most of them said marriage would tame him, and cure him, and set all to rights — and in the midst of all these opinions and observations, cousin William led a life of gaiety and happiness; the joys of the present hour being heightened by the bright prospects of the future. Time wore on, and the awful ceremony was 14i COUSIN WILLIAM. rapidly approaching, when a change was made in the arrangements at the desire of Lady Anne's uncle, who, although decidedly averse from the match at first, saw that it would be vain to oppose the ardent wishfes of his plain, yet resolute niece, and now determined, since the thing must be, that the solemnization of the nuptials should take place under every possible circumstance of splendor and magnificence. It was, therefore, proposed that the lovers should proceed with Morley^s father, and Lady Anne's cousin, Louisa, to Balraith Castle, one of his lordship's seats, in the chapel of which, the ceremony should take place ; and that thence the newly married couple should start for Lirider- field, her ladyship's family seat, there to spend the honey-moon ; and that all these operations should be performed in the most stately and im- posing possible manner, with sheep-roastings and ale-broachings for tenants, and banquets and balls for nobler guests ; so that the marriage of the great heiress of Linderfield might stand recorded with all due splendor in the annals of the House of Sev/ard. Morley did not by any means dislike the programme submitted to him ; there would be vast eclat in such a wedding, and with due COUSIN WILLIAM. l45 activity, and disbursement, he felt that he might judiciously circulate through the public press an account which, while it exalted himself and his new connection, would not unnecessarily dwell upon the homeliness of her face, or the equivocal correctness of her figure; and although the arrangements would delay the ceremony for a fevv days, still as it was held necessary by her Ladyship's family in order to conceal a? much as possible its degradation in the alliance^ that he should previously assume their name, the post- poneitjent was little more than a matter of con- venience. After a due consideration, however, of the important preliminaries, a new plan was suggest- ed, and entered into with the most unequivocal cordiality by Morley, and which was adopted at the particular instance of Lord Dunbarry, the uncle aforesaid. It was, that the bride elect, and her cortege, should leave town previously to the bridegroom, and establish herself at Balraiih; and that Morley and his father should, after the conclusion of the business at the Heralds'* Col- lege, travel with their suite separately — it would be better, the Earl said ; it would distinctly mark the arrival of the lover ; it would give more ^ VOL. I. H 146 COUSIN WILLIAM. character and respectability to his family ; and throw an air of solidity and independence over the house of Morley ; for which, as perhaps the reader may already perceive, the said Earl had in his own heart of hearts the most sovereign contempt. Gallantry and good breeding would have induced Morley at any time to give way to the wishes of his bride and her relations, and his readiness to accede to this proposal was re- markable. But why ? — it secured him from the mawkish dulness of a long journey, with a woman for whom, to use his own amiable expres- sion, he did not care three straws, and with whom he was about to undertake a still longer and more dull progress through life. It must be admitted, that short-sighted as I^ady Anne might be, even her penetration was adequate to the discovery of his satisfaction at the new arrange- ment ; and she even went so far as to check the expression of his approbation of it, in a manner wdiich induced the heartless fortune-hunter to moderate his raptures. The march of time is certain ; and though, as the immortal Shakspeare has so much better said than anybody else, his paces are different, under different circumstances, his regular progress COUSIN WILLIAM. 147 brought about the fulfilment of the plans of Lady Anne's noble relation ; and her ladyship, attended and escorted by servants, companions, &c. quitted her town house for Balraith, having been honoured by the chaste salute of her amiable lover, and, subsequently, handed by him with all possible assiduity into the travel- ling carriage, which in a few minutes after, bore her away from his admiring eyes. In four or five days he was to join her again ; for, as I have before premised, it was considered due to the dignity of the Sewards that he should reverse the order of things as applicable to meaner persons, and change Ms name in marriage, to that of his wife, and the necessary preparations for this change required, at least, that period. Mr. Morley's life in London during this brief stay hardly requires notice or memorandum, since it was exactly like the life he had always led ; not even was this week of probation distinguished by an abstinence from the society of ladies, whose attractions were of a character not quite consonant with the singleness of affection which a young gentleman on the brink of matrimony might be supposed to entertain for the object of his choice ; indeed his good taste led him to 14^ COUSIN WILLIAMr appear in public with an individual who had long been notoriously under his protection, (as it is called) on the very Saturday evening on which also appeared in the Gazette, the royal permis- sion that he should assume the name of Seward. But even this, was not the head and front of his oiFending: the following day, the first use he made of the bridal carriage, decorated with all the quarterings, and escutcheons, and supporters, and crests, and dragons, and griffins, and lions, and mullets, was, in company with the same lady, and her sister, and a mutual friend, to honour Salt Hill with a visit, and pass two days in that sweet seclusion. It was, as he said, a finale to his licentious career, and intended as the farewell /e^^ to his free-hearted companions. On the sixth morning from that day, the same carriage, containing Mr. William Morley S&\vard and his exemplary father, was on its road to Balraith ; at which princely domain it arrived in perfect safety, on the second evening of its journey. " William,'' said old Morley, as the view of the splendid castle caught his eye, the sun setting brightly behind its lofty turrets, " the moment is now arrived, when I am to thank you COUSIN WILLIAM. 149 for your filial conduct : — I am not blind — the sacrifices you have made for a parent assure yourself I duly appreciate; we shall perhaps have no opportunity of speaking together con- fidentially—my heart is full — I can only say, God bless you !" Saying which he pressed William's hand fervently. " I confess. Sir," said Morley Seward, " Lady Anne is a bitter pill, but the gilding will conceal the bitterness : for myself, I certainly would rather have selected a more pleasing person for a help-mate, not that it matters much ; a pretty wife is like a pretty prospect — a man looks out of his window for a week after he possesses it, to catch the lights, and the air-tints, and the sha- dows, and the sunsets, and the refractions, and the reflection 5J, and all that ; and mighty beau- tiful it is : but in a month he loses all taste for his view, and sits with his back to it, as contentedly as if he were hving on Ludgate Hill. A wife is much the same, and one's friends are the only persons gratified with her beauties. To be sure, having a fine graceful girl hanging on my arm, whenever by any sinister accident I am entrapped into the same party '.vith m.y 150 COUSIN WILLIAM. spouse, would be more soothing than presenting society with such a gorgon as my poor Lady Anne ; but then — one must always recollect there is compensation somewhere ; and in this marriage, independently of doing my duty to you, I secure a place in the world, which I flatter myself I shall be able to fill with effect at all events." *' One thing, Wilham," said Morley, " I am sure I need hardly^ attempt to impress upon a heart naturally kind like yours. I mean the necessity of gentle and apparently affectionate conduct towards Lady Anne : neglect or inatten- tion to her, will recoil upon yourself; and if there exist a disposition to question the sincerity of your attachment, the evidence of your own manner and behaviour towards her will afford the strongest negative." '' Kind !" exclaimed William : " poor dear ugly soul ; I mean to be excessively kind to her ; and if ever I feel the effort of giving her my society somewhat too great, I shall allow her full liberty to do exactly w hat she chooses : when I go down to shoot, she may go to her uncle ; when I go up -to town for the House of Commons, she may go to town too; for what with particular business there, and late dinners elsewhere, we shall not COUSIN WILLIAM. 151 see much of each other during the session : one thing I am, however, quite resolved upon." " What may that be ?" said old Mr. Morley, " That neither the noble lord here, nor his infernal castle, has much of my society," said William. " The stiffness of the old school is worse than death to men' like myself; and even you.i my dear Sir, shiver at the coldness of the Earl.^' " Truly I do," said his father ; '' but still, upon the principle I advocate with respect to the world's good name, I should advise at least a shew of friendship. September and October, in every year, may be spent here ; probably he is as much attached as such a man can be to anything, to Lady Anne. You should remember his influence and his expectations ; his partridges and pheasants will fill a bag as well as other game ; and I think the appearance of cordiahty with her relations, boring as it may be, should be kept up." *' I have no doubt you are right. Sir," said William Morley; ''and to show I adopt sug- gestions as readily as my uncle Crosby takes physic, I promise to patronize the icicle for six weeks certain, annually — I shall have over the Terringtons to enliven me. Sir Mark, though a 152 COUSIN WILLIAM. simpleton in other things, is a good shot ; and CaroUne will be an agreeable companion for Lady Anne.'' "I understand," said Mr. M or! ey, interrupting his son; "but if my ^ suggestions are to be attended to, I should hint that Caroline Crosby's visits to Lady Anne should be rare and long be- tween ; neither the personal appearance of your cousin nor her mental qualities will suit your wife, for the solemnity of her disposition will as ill accord with the liveliness of Miss Crosby, as the homeliness of her countenance with the laugh - ing beauties of your rural belle.'*" " Well," said Morley, ''nous verr oris —every- thing will turn out as it should, I dare say, and you may rely upon my making myself amiable to the whole connection; and at all events until the settlements are signed, which cannot, I pre- sume, take place before to-morrow, I shall be the most gentle, sweet, agreeable creature possible." Here the enumeration of Mr. Morley's ad- mirable attributes was cut short by the sudden stopping of the carriage at the great doors of Balraith : the battants flew open, and Morley, followed by his son, stepped from their vehicle into the splendid hall of the magnificent castle. Three or four servants were crossing towards the COUSIN WILLIAM. 153 dinner room with dishes. Louisa Seward, Lady Anne's cousin, attracted by the noise of an ar- rival, leaned over the gallery which surrounded the hall, and the moment she beheld the visitors, uttering a faint scream, ran, or rather flew, to the apartment of the bride elect. " Mr. Morley and Mr. Morley Seward," said a servant out of livery to the groom of the chambers, in a tone which sounded anything but joyous. " Who.'*" said the ofroom of the chambers. " You had better take the carriage round to the stables, and have it unpacked there,'^ said William Morley to the servants. '• I beg your pardon. Sir,"* said the groom of the chambers, " but — I — believe " " Believe what. Sir," said William, sharply, yet gaily, with the air of a man determined to make himself popular, " that we are too late for dinner?" " I will step and tell my lord, Sir," said the man, and he proceeded to an apartment on the right of the hall ; but he had not gone many steps before he was stopped by another servant, who whispered him. — " W^ell, I thought so," said the man. Louisa Seward at this moment bounded down H 3 154 COUSIN WILLIAM. the staircase, without even casting a glance at the Morlejs, and rushed into the apartment towards which the servants had been marching at a more orderly pace. " What's the meaning of all this .?" said old Morley to his son, as they stood wholly un- attended and unnoticed in the middle of the vestibule. " I don't exactly know," said young Morley to his father. " Some infernal formality — their way here I suppose — Well," continued he, turn- ing to his servants, " why don't they take the carriage round ?" His own m.an, to whom he spoke, looked as white as a sheet, but said nothing. A thought suddenly flashed into William Morley^s mind, something dreadful had happened to Lady Anne. A livery servant at the moment approached, and begged them to follow him ; they did so, of course, and were ushered through a long lobby into a splendid library. The servant said, his lord would be with them immediately, and retired. " Magnificent room," said old Morley, survey- ing the spacious gothic apartment. " Very magnificent, indeed," said William ; COUSIN WILLIAM. 155 " but very strange : this is more formal than anything even I expected." The door opened, and a servant out of Hvery put down two hghted candles on a library table at one extremity of the room, which seemed to exhibit more unequivocally the size of the apart- ment, adding at the same time not a little to its gloom. " Pray, Sir," said William to the servant, '' Lady Anne is not unwell ?'* "Her ladyship is quite well, Sir," said the man, with a degree of coldness which his questioner attributed to the freezing atmosphere of Balraith, and quitted the apartment. " Capital room this," said William to his fa- ther, surveying the apartment : " infernal bad taste these nobs, stuck all about — I flatter myself they won't shew their hideous lumps and bumps here, this day month, if I have any influence in tlie family." " The room would look lighter without them,' said old Morley. " Have 'em down. Sir, to a dead certainty,'* cried Wilham — " Balraith shall soon feel the eflects of my thawing propensities — look at these iron-bottomed chairs— no comfort— no cushions — no ease — no elbows — no feeling oneself at home 156 ■ COUSIN WILLIAM. — Never mind — wait awhile, as the Irisl? say, you'll see what shall be done — this frieze — all over gold — tawdry — and this fret- work — all go by the board — devilish odd fender this, isn't it, Sir, with coronets in the corner. Gad how droll — have them all oft in a fortnight '^ Just at this juncture the doors again opening, the Earl of Dunbarry made his appearance ; the Morleys, father and son, advanced upon him, and the elder gentleman extended his hand — his Lordship stopped suddenly, and placing both his hands behind him, prevented a completion of the manual exercise. William stopped of course ; his lordship ad- vanced to the table whereon the lights were placed, as if determined to entrench himself be- hind the barrier. "• T conclude, Sir," said his lordship, address- ing himself to the elder Mr. Morley, " by liaving the very unexpected favour of your company here to-day, that my letter has not reached you."" " I have received no letter assuredly, my lord," said the elder Morley. " Unexpected favour i"' muttered William. " So I imagined,*' said Lord Dunbarry ; " and I am. most particularly grieved at the cir- cumstance, because to feel myself imperatively COUSIN WILLIAM. 157 compelled to deny the rites of hospitality to any visitors here, however indifferent, is to me particularly mortifying." " I — really — " said Morley. " I am quite aware," continued his lordship, " that you7' surprise must at least equal my regret upon this point ; but as you are here, it becomes not only fair and just, but absolutely necessary, that our final explanation should now take place ; which when made, will sufficiently justify the very disagreeable resolution at which I have arrived, of denying myself the pleasure of your company here." " May I, Sir," said William Morley, somewhat haughtily, " since at least I am principally con- cerned in the affair, inquire upon what ground, or under what circumstances, I am thus denied admission to the presence of the lady who is so shortly to become my wife ?'' The contemptuous smile which played upon his lordship's hp, when the gallant gay Lothario had fired this shot, would have sunk a^ novice through the earth. " It was not my intention. Sir," said his lord- ship, drawing himself up most statelily, " to sub- ject myself to anything like a personal discussion 158 ' COUSIN WILLIAM. upon this subject with you ; but since accident has brought you hither, I shall most assuredly afford that explanation which I consider due, and. which is already given in the letter which has passed you on your road hither." "-I shall be happy to hear what your lordship has to say," said William, in all the security of triumph over his bride's affection. '' I have but little to say, Sir," said the Earl, darting on him a look of the most ineffable con- tempt, " but that my niece at length perceives the justice of my opinion relative to the ex- tremely ill-judged match between her ladyship and yourself." " Indeed, Sir !" said Morley ; " but as Anne is of an age to decide for herself, that matter is easily set at rest.'' " Very easily, indeedj young gentleman," said Lord Dunbarry: " Lady Anne has decided, Sir." ' " I know," said Morley gaily ; " there needs no ghost to tell us that." " Hear what his lordship has to say, William," said his father, who was getting rather fidgetty. " It is said, Mr. Morley, in a very few words," said the Earl — " the conduct and observations COUSIN WILLIAM. 159 of your son upon his approaching marriage with my niece, Lady Anne Seward, have long been familiar to me ; but while she could not be con- vinced of the real character of hisfeigned attach- ment, I felt, situated as she was, and perfectly adequate upon all other points to the formation of a correct judgment, that I ought not to interfere. Since her ladyship's departure from London, that gentleman has so completely thrown off the very flimsy mask which he had previously worn, that I have no hesitation in declaring to him and you, the impossibility of his ever becoming the husband of my niece." " Sir !" said Morley — in a tone of surprise, rage, and indignation. " I repeat it. Sir." " But—'' " Stay, stay, young gentleman," said the Earl ; " and let me tell you, that while you were within the last few days revelling with prostitutes at a public inn, conveyed to that place in the carriage upon the pannels of which, the honourable bear- ings of your intended wife's noble family were emblazoned, the ears of two of her nearest female relations were outraged by sarcasms and satire, (clothed in such language as prevents my know- 160' COUSIM WILLIAM, ing the full extent of your coarseness and licen- tiousness) levelled at the person and mind of the lady to an alliance with whom you aspired. Had those individuals been of the other sex, Sir, your profligacy and indecency would have been ex- piated on the spot: that not being the case, I have acted upon the information which we have re- ceived, and having convinced Lady Anne herself, much to my joy I confess, of the utter worthless- ness of the man she had chosen for a husband, I stand here the avowed spoiler of your selfish schemes, perfectly ready, whenever I am suitably called upon, to afford to the world generally every explanation of the affair it may consider requisite, or to you personally, Sir, every satisfaction which you may feel bound to demand." " What is all this ?" said the elder Morley. The younger Morley spake not. '^ It appears best to me, Mr. Morley," said his lordship, addressing himself to the father, '' that our personal communication should terminate here. In the letter I have written, and which you have (most unfortunately, I feel, I assure you) missed, I have entered into more detailed explanations, and have referred your son to my COUSIN WILLIAM. 161 solicitor for an arrangement of the conclusion of our proposed connection, in a manner which, while it maintains the proper dignity of my niece's character, will, I think, convince you of her liberal and forgiving disposition. The point upon which I am at this moment annoyed, is that which, as I have said before, involves the spirit of hospitality ; but as I am sure you must feel that your remaining here would, under the cir- cumstances, be highly improper, offensive, and indelicate towards Lady Anne, you will permit me now to order your carriage, and I repeat, that should it be considered on your part, or that of your son, necessary to call upon me in any more particular manner for an explanation, I shall remain here for at least three weeks." Saying which, his lordship proceeded towards the bell. " My Lord," said Morley, " I admit myself to have been indiscreet— but may I be allowed to make my peace with Lady Anue herself, ten minutes conversation may, perhaps, enable me to •' " rGet on her ladyship's blind side,'"* said Lord Dunbarrv, with a look of the most sovereign f6^ COUSIN WILLIAM. contempt : " I believe, Sir, I am indebted to your ingenuity for that witticism?" A servant opened the door: — "Pray, Sir, order Mr. Morley's carriage." The servant disappeared, " My Lord Dunbarry," said William, " the matter cannot rest here " "Mr. Morley," said his lordship, "I have no desire that it should : I would much rather it might be sifted, and analyzed, because the more that is known of it, the clearer and more honourable, I think, will the conduct and character of Lady Anne appear. You are too much a man of the world. Sir, to enter into a personal controversy upon a point of so much delicacy. I repeat that I shall remain here for more than three weeks; and pray do not at- tribute to any disinclination to admit the entire responsibility of the measures which have been taken, a request which I make, that you will read my letter, which has crossed you on the road, before you decide upon any other step.'^ " Mr. Morley's carriage is ready," said a servant. "I wish you a very good day, gentlemen,'' COUSIN WILLIAM. 163 said his lordship, retiring, and bowing very cere- moniously to the father and son, who recrossed the splendid hall unattended by any of the upper servants, and who, having entered the carriage, were doomed to be asked — " Where to, Sir ?" by the servant. "How the deuce should I know. Sir?" said old Morley. The servants whispered together on the hall steps. "The Green Dragon, Sir, is the best house in Balraith," said one of the servants. " The Green Devil, Sir !" said Morley. " Drive to the first inn, that's all, and make haste, and order out fresh horses immediately." Away rolled the carriage. " Well, William," said the old gentleman, " what's to be done now ?" " Done !" exclaimed William, " TU call out the old lord, and carry off the young lady." "Neither the one nor the other, as I take it,'* said his father. " The vindication of folly or vice by the sword can only add to the foregone fault; and with respect to carrying off Lady Anne — " " It is as easy. Sir," interrupted Wilham, " as writing her a letter. I beheve, indeed, that to be 164 COUSIN W/LLIAM. all which is necessary to make the arrangement and lay the plan ; she is devoted to me, and it is merely a ruse of this proud lord, who wishes to sell his niece for a coronet, and has ever set his face against the match ; but I flatter myself I know the sex : opposition to the desire of her heart will only strengthen it, and thwarting Lady Anne is the surest mode of throwing her into my arms." \ *' William, I am afraid you are too sanguine, and too secure, in your scientific view of female diaracter,"" said Morley : " with a young, artless, unsuspecting girl, the deliberate plottings and designs of a man of the world may succeed, and generally will : but with Lady Anne, it is wholly different : she is no child." "Not she," said William — with an expression of countenance which defies description. '* She is of high blood,'' continued Morley — " accustomed to hear the voice of respect and obedience, controul is with her habitual, and however she may love, her pride will always regulate her passion ; and now that her dignity is outraged and her personal feelings wounded, the power of her affection I fear is inadequate, to your restoration to her favour." " I'll lay my life," said Wilham— " that she COUSIN WILLIAM. 165 has been forced into permitting this game to be played, and I'll stake any sum that I "" Here the daring protestations of the lady- killer were checked by the sudden stopping of the carriage in the gateway of the Dunbarry Arras, a small and by no means comfortable looking public house. ''• Horses on — first and second turn out" — was heard to ring through the yard — but, alas I no resjjonsive sound proclaimed the horses near. " Very sorry, Sir," said the landlord, approach- ing the carriage, " we have no horses." '' What's to be done ?" said Morley the elder. " When can we get on ?'' — said Morley the younger. " I really can't say, Sir," said the innkeeper, '' if you like, the boys can take you en to Dels- worth, six miles farther, where you will perhaps get horses on.'^ "No ! we can't," said the wheeler boy, surlily — having taken his cue from the servants at the Castle, who having been necessarily prepared for the reception to be given to the Morleys, in case they should arrive, had spread, not only about the neighbourhood, but even to the drivers. 166 COUSIN WILLIAM. the melancholy aflPair of the dismissal of my Lady Anne's lover." " Where do the gentlemen come from ?'* said the innkeeper softl}^, to the wheeler boy, with a look of amazement at his unqualified incivility. '' The Castle," said the boy, and leaning forward, whispered something in the landlord's ear, which his ktiowledge of heraldry had not conveyed to his mind, even after having inspected the crests on the carriage^ " Oh !" said the innkeeper, and returning to the window, that important personage added — "We can't forward you at present, Sir, — these lads micst take back their horses." <« Why not take us back with them ?" said Morley, " the stage is but a short one." " We can't do that. Sir,'' said the wheeler boy, in a tone which implied — we won't. " No, Sir," said the landlord, " they carCt do that," in a tone which implied that they should not ; for as the reader may easily guess, " mine host" of theDunbarryArms had a double reason for detaining the visitors; first because he chose, out of respect to his lord and landlord, not to COUSI.V WILLIAM. 167 accommodate them with horses ; and, secondly, because, out of regard to himself, he determined to accommodate them with board and lodging, for the night at least. " What's to be done r" said William to his father. ''Will you please to ahght, Sir.?' said the landlord. " We wi^.v^, I suppose," said the elder Morley. " What an infernal bore this is," said William Morley, in an under tone, " not only to be defeated, but taken prisoners : however, we may turn it to account ; open the door." And accordingly, amidst the ringing of cracked bells, and scufflings along passages, and sundry and incidental noises, the vanquished dandy, and his mortified sire, were ushered into the best room in the house. The floor was sanded, and the fire place deco- rated with a huge beaupot; two triangular armed- chairs, with black leathern seats, were placed for the repose of the travellers ; and against the walls were pendant, framed andglazed, Howard's Visit to the Captives in Gaol, and as a companion, the Youth restored by the Humane Society : over the chimney appeared the Reverend Mr. Peters' s impious print of a pious family ascend- 168 COUSIN WILLIAM ing to heaven like a flight of sky-rockets; and in either recess a pinky-brown oval engraving of Love and Marriage: the former judiciously typified by a conversation, on a hard, damp, dirty bank, between ayouthin alarge hat, wearing also a ruff, tight silk pantaloons, with puffed hose and slashes, bearing in his hand a shepherd's crook, closely resembling a billiard mace ; and a young lady, with her hair profusely thick and long, whose hat had fallen behind her head, and of whose hands one was clasped by the swain, and the other enveloped in a very small basket, con- taining eggs — by which doubtlessly was intended some pretty allegorical allusion yet undisco- vered. "' Marriage,'' in the other recess, was personified by a couple (perhaps the same as in the com- panion), seated on another hard dirty bank, the flapping hats and slashed breeches being most religiously preserved as the costume; but on the knee of the lady sat a " pledge," of about four years cdd, its hands clasped in the act of supplication, the father standing over the mother playing inte- restingly with one of her curls; on the foreground was another little basket, in which were repre- sented a couple of doves quarrelling for a straw, illustrative no doubt of conjugal affection. COUSIN WILLIAM. 16*9 Such decorations, so applicable to the occa- sion, so suited to the present temper of their minds, could not fail to be pleasant to the eyes of the two Morleys ; the elder of whom, however, in the midst of his mortifications, felt a serious appeal from nature with respect to eating, and being sufficiently worldly to Avant his dinner, (and never ]et Lord Lovat's last hearty breakfast of minced veal be forgotten,) his first inquiry of the landlord was touching the state of the com- missariat ; when lo and behold, there was nothing in the larder, but the remains of a cold boiled loin of mutton. — There was bacon in the house, but Suffice it then to say, that the standing make- shift dish was ordered, and a roasted fowl, with egg-sauce, to follow mutton cutlets, was speedily prepared, during all which preparations the father and son (perpetually interrupted by them) maintained perfect silence on the import- ant subject of their present distress — either of them ruminating and pondering in his mind what measure it would be best next to take. The meal served, the absence of claret from the cellar of the Dunbarry Arms gave the next cause for sorrow ; Lisbon and Port were all the VOL, I. I ITO COUSIN WILLIAM. hostelry could boast ; and indeed on a day in which all miseries appeared to combine, it was but right and fitting that the minor adjuncts should keep their due degree of torment. " Well," said Morley, after the servants had disappeared and they were at length alone, *' here we are, Sir ; and here likely to be till the morning : is there any thing to be done? Can we, as I at first fancied, turn this delay to good account.? My idea of the thing is simply this : as I have already said, I think, that Anne is not the real mover in this affair. I am convinced that if 1 saw her — if I had ten minutes conversation with her, I should overcome all her anger: women they say have but one tongue wherewith to chide, and two eyes wherewith to forgive." " You can't say that of Lady Anne, Wil- liam," said his father. " You seem to have for- gotten her imperfections already — I fear your attempt at an interview would be unsuccessful ; or if you contrived an interview, I apprehend that now^ under the present influence and the irritation of offended personal pride, its results would be useless." " Nothing venture, nothing have," said Wil- liam. *• Shall I try .?" COUSIN WILLIAM. 171 " Take your own way,'' said Morley. " To me, as I need not tell you, the discomfiture of the affair is nearly allied to ruin ; I have no chance but taking the old road, either to America, the Isle of Man, or some other similar watering place ; and to you the consequences " "Must be destructive," saidWilHam. " What an egregious fool I have made of myself— if I had but kept my feelings snug until the thing was settled, all might have been well. Sup- pose I go to the Castle, request to see Lord Dunbarry ; tell him my object — an interview with I.ady Anne.?" " I presume he would refuse it," said Morley. " But why shouldhe?" said William ; " he has in fact a controul over her ; but in law none ; he has no right to answer for her — no power whatever to hinder her from "" " Suppose, WiUiam," said the old gentlemau, " you were to write your request to Lord Dun- barry ; let Dutton take it, and desire an answer : I think a renewal of your visit would be in- dehcate under the circumstances, and might lead to disagreeable results and needless exposures : write to him, explain the real causes of our acci- dental delay here, and your anxiety to avail I 2 172 COUSIN WILLIAM. yourself of the opportunity, so strangely afforded, of endeavouring to restore yourself to the favour of Lady Anne." " It shall be done," said William ; " the idea is a good one, Sir^; it shall be acted upon instantly." And up he started : in two minutes his writing case was prepared, and in less than ten, a note, all courtesy and civility, expressive of the wish nearest the heart which was entirely devoted to his niece ; folded and sealed, and addressed to the Earl of Dunbarry. Dutton being duly summoned to the presence, received his instructions, and was immediately dispatched to the Paradise whence his master and his master's father had so recently been driven, and both their hearts began to beat with renewed hope and expectation. Soon after the departure of this faithful envoy, the ears of the anxious travellers were assailed by noises proceeding from the adjoining room, separated only from the one which they occupied, by a thin partition. The murmuring of voices, " the busy hum of men," the moving of chairs, the jingling of glasses, and demands from two or three individuals for *^ rum and COUSIN WILLIAM. 173 water," " punch," " hot brandy and water," **' port wine," " hollands," &c. announced the " gathering" of some community ; while, to the horror and dismay of the double-refined Phi- lander and his parent, the fumes of tobacco soon " infected all the ambient air." But bad as this was, worse remained behind : the party increased in strength and numbers, and with its importance increased also the noise: muttered jests and mumbled anecdotes, inaudible or indistinct to the travellers, were hailed with laughter loud and long, until as the spirits of the party mounted proportionably to the quan- tity of spirits which they demolished, their ob- servations and jokes became nearly as loud as the mirth they occasioned, so that Morley and his father had the satisfaction, like ladies over the ventilator, of hearing the debate, " unsight, unseen." " Heard of the affair at the Castle, Mr. Steven- son T' said Mr. Roberts. " Kicking out my lady's sweetheart you mean, Mr. Roberts," said Mr. Stevenson. " Just served him right, Sir. Why, lord, Mr. Roberts, he never cared any more about her ladyship than you or 1 " 174 ' COUSIN WILLIAM. *' Is it true, Mr. Stevenson," said another voice, " that my Lord really kicked him out ?" '' Knocked him down with a poker, Sir," said Stevenson, who was a man generally looked up to as an oracle ; " and the servants kicked him out afterwards.'* " Why he won't stand that," growled a third ; " he's a sojer officer an't he— won't he make my Lord fight ?" " Lieutenant Bumptious," said Stevenson, addressing the last speaker, " you naval men are over punctilious — do you think that my lord would go out to fight with a whipper-snapper half pay insign ?'' ^\Insign, or no insign^" said the lieutenant ; " I tell you what. Sir — out my lord ought to go, I am on the half pay of his Majesty'^s navy it is true ; what of that ?^ rank with a captain in the army ; and this lubber you say is but an insign ; yet so long as I have the honour to wear his Majesty's uniform, I am as good as any lord in the land ; and as for a poker — '* '' I don't quite believe the poker," said Mr. Roberts — " I am sure Mr. Stevenson you do, but I think for once you must be misinformed..'^ " How else did he get the two black eyes» COUSIN WILLIAM. 175 Mr. Roberts ?'' said Mr. Stevenson — " I know that for a fact.'* " Well," said the lieutenant, " poker or no poker, whatever he gets he deserves ; to sham love for that poor dear one-eyed cretur of a woman, for the sake of her money, is both a shame and a sin." "I think," said somebody in a small shrill voice, " it is a statutable crime: obtaining money under false pretences — that's my idea of the thing." The laugh which followed this uncommonly pithy dictum of Mr. Fang, the attorney, lasted until the landlord again made his appearance. " Tubs,*' said one of the party, " did you hear about his lordship's licking my Lady Annes sweetheart with a poker ?" The answer was quite inaudible in '' the gallery ;" but after that period the whole con- versation was carried on in an under tone ; the even muttering of the speakers only occasionally varied by bursts of laughter ; it being evident that the proximity of the parties most interested, had been at that moment communicated to the society by the landlord. Morley and his son believed they had at this period reached the acme of discomfort ; but they 176 COUSIN WILLIAM. were yet doomed to an increase of misery, by the universal approbation which followed a call upon Mr. Stevenson for a song, with which he most obligingly complied; and having favoured his friends with the " Bay of Biscay O '/' called upon Mr. Roberts, who with equal kindness gave tongue to the " Beggar Girl;" in the middle of w^hich pathetic ballad, Dutton arrived from the Castle with a letter from the Earl, addressed to William. As every inquiry had already been made as to the practicability of changing their room, and as it had been declared the only unoccupied apartment, it became absolutely necessary to wait until the conclusion of Mr. Roberts"* performance before the important communication could be taken fairly into consideration. William, however, had, previously to the ter- mination of Mr. Roberts' song, ascertained his fate, and as soon as Dutton quitted the room, handed the following decisive documents to his father. The first was a note from the Earl, couched in the following terms. "The Earl of Dunbarry feels great pain in being compelled to continue a correspondence which he had considered as terminated. The Earl, anxious to convince Mr, William Morley COUSIN WILLIAM. 1T7 that the decision at which Lady Anne Sesvard arrived two days since, was not the result of any influence or advice of his, submitted, as Mr. Morley desired, his note to her ladyship ; and having the honour now to enclose her ladyship's reply, has only to request that this communica- tion may, as indeed it must, conclude the cor- respondence between Mr. Morley and her Lady- ship's family. '• Balraith, half past nine, Thursday evening." Cold and stiff and formal as this was, it was nothing (when their former intimacy is consi- dered) in comparison with the following reply of the Lady Anne. " Lady Anne Seward, desirous that Mr. Morley should be convinced, not only of her perfect sense of his general character, and his conduct in particular towards herself, begs him to understand that the determination, which at her request has been communicated to him by her uncle, the Earl of Dunbarry, is purely and entirely her own, uninfluenced and uncontrouled by any human being, or by any consideration, except a sense of her own dignity, and of the total want of delicacy and propriety on the part of Mr. Morley. 378 COUSIN WILLIAM* " Lest Mr. Morley should imagine it necessary either to palliate his past conduct or endeavour to counteract its effect upon her. Lady Anne begs to say, that any future communication from him will be returned unbpened." The hopes which the vain and daring Morley had still cherished, his self-confidence in the powers of soothing and conciliating, the antici- pations founded upon woman's weakness, and the smouldering passion which she who once has loved for ever feels, were all at one fell swoop destroyed by the stiff formal reply of the Earl and the cold repulse of his niece. " C'est une affaire finie,'' said old Morley. " Yes, Sir," said William, folding up the letters, " I think it is settled now : what a fool I was to -" "Retrospection, William, is idleness,." said his father — '' it is clear that the matter is ter- minated ; and knowing what we know, something for the future must be rapidly suggested : this discomfiture will soon get wind : those expect- ants who have been soothed and kept off by the anticipation of your marriage, will be hurried on and irritated — you are yourself more.deeply in- volved than even before the affair was agitate^ ^ COUSIN WILLIAM. 179 and as for myself I am convinced that nothing but expatriation can secure my personal liberty." " That or Parliament ?" said William inter- rogatively. " As to Parliament,*" replied Morley, ^' in the present state of my purse and politics, I have no great chance : those of our party who could strengthen the cause by the gratuitous introduc- tion of their friends into the House of Commons, unfortunately prefer the pickings of private patronage to the general welfare of the state ; besides, I feel no inclination to try my luck that way — political servitude is not to my taste; and although the air I am destined hereafter to breathe may not be that which I first drew, I shall inhale it more freely than I could that even of my native land, while conscious of constraint. That I feel the peculiarity of my situation deeply I cannot deny, but I confess in the midst of my vexations, the reflection that perhaps i/ou have escaped a life of splendid misery, which you were willing to lead for m?/ sake, in some degree is consolatory." " But, Sir," said William, looking at his father, down whose cheeks even tears were trickling, " ruin to me is equally inevitable, involved as I am, and, as I said before, more particularly 180 C0U3IN WILLIAM. involved by the expences incidental to thls: marriage. I have nothing for it but to ex- change from the Guards into some regiment of the line abroad, and so cut my way with my sword.'* ^ " It is indeed a wreck to all our hopes and fortunes," said old Morley. Just at this juncture Mr. Stevenson began Colman's song, of " Lodgings to Let," in a stentorian voice in tbe next room. " Confound this noise," said old Morley, " is there no escaping this most unseasonable mirth ; ring the bell — let us get into some other place, if possible." The bell rang, the landlord appeared. " Is there now no other room disengaged ?" said William. " Not at present, Sir," said the landlord. *' The Sons will break up at twelve. Sir, and after that we shall be more quiet up stairs." " The Sons ! who the devil are the Sons, Sir ? ' said old Morley. " The Sons of Momus, Sir — the gentlemen in the next room,*' said Tubs : " they only meet once a fortnight. Sir." " That ever this should be the day," moaned Morley, "that we should be doomed to sit in the COUSIN WILLIAM. 181 next room to a set of fellows, who find pleasure in eating tough beef-steaks, drinking punch and port wine, and smoking tobacco." " Why that, Sir," said Tubs, "is merely the recreation — it is a sort of election club, constantly kept up, where the bettermost people contrive to mix with the funny fellows of the place upon easy terms, and so carry on their political matters under the guise of good fellowship. I'm told there's just such a club in London only on a larger scale, Sir." *' When do you expect your horses back T^ " Horses, Sir !" said the landlord. " My horses. Sir ? — oh the horses have been in, long and long ago." " When can we get on then ?" said old Morley. " Get on. Sir," said Tubs — ^' do you wish to go on to-night, Sir .?" " To-night !" exclaimed the old gentleman. *' This instantj if possible." " Dear me," said Tubs : " only think — now, dear me, I have got your bed-rooms ready, and — '' *' Can we go on .p"" said William. " Why, Sir— if youhke, but— the beds " " Here, Sir," said old Morley ; " desire my servant to pay for all the beds in the house — charge what you please." 18S COUSIN WILLIAM. " No, Sir," interrupted Tubs — " I don't want to charge more than my due ; my Lord, Sir, who isthe best man and the best landlord in the king- dom, who is a father to us all, God bless him ^" " Well, Sir," said Morley, " what of him— what has Lord Dunbarry to do with your charges ?" " A great deal. Sir," said the indignant host. " His lordship, and his kind, good, charitable niece, Lady Anne ' '^ Confound the fellow," said William, " we don't want to hear your praises and opinions — charge what you please for the beds.**' " No, Sir, I won't," said Tubs—" I shall only charge half a crown each, and if you will only ask his lordship " "There, there, my good friend," said Morley, '' we are not disputing your honesty, we need no reference : all I meant to say was, that we were quite ready to pay for any trouble we had given, so that we could but get on ; therefore order the horses, and make your own charge." " All / mean is" — said Tubs " We understand," said William : '* order out the horses." Saying which, half bowing and half pushing Mr. Tubs out of the room, he dispatched him COL'SIJJ W^ILLTAM, 183 to further the preparation for their depar- ture. *' I'll give you a toast, Mr. President," said one of the Sons in the next room. An universal hammering upon the table with glasses followed this speech — attended with cries of " Bravo !"— " Hear I"—" Chair"— and other conventional terms of conviviality. '' Here's my Lady Anne"*s good health ; long life to her — and bad luck to all fortune-hunters, with three times three." Shouts followed the toast, and the roars of laughter which succeeded were ill concealed by the renewed hammerings on the festive board. " That's pleasant, Sir," said William to his father. *' Very agreeable, indeed,'" said his father: " that was done on purpose, William." '' What shall I i\or said William. " Affect not to have heard it," said his father, *' the less eclat here I think the better." The toast was shortly followed by a song, at the conclusion of which, the carriage was announced in readiness ; and the necessary finan- cial arrangements having been previously con- cluded by Dutton, nothing remained but to step 184 COUSIN WILLIAM. into it, and depart: which the discomfited father and son accordingly did, amidst the equi- vocal civilities of the landlord and the unequi- vocal mirth of the " Sons," who no sooner ascer- tained that the strangers were (to use the phrase of Lieutenant Bumptiou?) *' under way," than they expressed their satisfaction at the event by unbounded shouts of joy, which rang in the ears of those for whose special mortification they were intended, even until they had passed the Castle gates and reached the second mile-stone from the Dunbarry Arms. COUSIN WILLIAM. 185 CHAPTER VI. Now all the world is sleeping, love, But the sage his stai-watch keeping, love ; And I, whose star, More glorious far Is the eye from that casement peeping, love. Moore. Coeval with the distracting defeat of William Morley Seward, (for by no means the least con- siderable absurdity in the affair was his assump- tion, by royal license, of the family name of his scornful mistress) was the philosophical success of Sir Mark Terrington at Crosby Hall. On the morning succeeding his abrupt de- parture from the presence of Mr. Crosby, the worthy baronet rallied all his energies and re- newed the charge ; and having succeeded in obtaining an interview with Mrs. Crosby, en- gaged that lady as his advocate — a character which she the more readily assumed, because she saw that her husband had set his heart upon the match, and because, after weighing all her scruples, (a custom she had acquired 186 COUSIN WILLIAM. by her medicinal habits,) she felt almost as anxious to get rid of CaroHne as Caroline was to be freed from the trammels of a step- mother's dominion an4 the practical illustration of Buchan's Domestic Medicine, the exhibition of which she was so much in the habit of witness- ing where she was. A party was in the first instance made up at Sir Mark's, where the whole family of the Crosbys dined — an event so remarkable, that the superstitious members of the servants' -hall auffured some most wonderful event as the consequence of such an exertion, and perhaps the event was, under all the circumstances, won- derful which did result from the visit, for it was on that day Caroline avowed her favourable^ determination with respect to the addresses of Sir Mark ; the ordinarily methodical ba- ronet became most specially lively after the gra- cious and important annunciation of the young lady's formal acceptance of him, which, since truth must be told, poor Caroline herself was not. No one who has not felt, can conceive the torture which . the assumption of ease and an appearance of interest in present objects costs COUSIN WILLIAM. 187 the anxious heart of her^ whose thoughts, whose hopes and wishes, centre in some distant being : or how tasteless, blank, and wearying is all, that charms or cheers the thoughtless laughing friends around her — Caroline's feelings were of a powerful and complicated nature; she had accepted a man whom she did not love, and by so doing had finally and decidedly abandoned the man she did love — that loved object was for ever separated from her, and in his absence she was doomed to paint in her imagination, forcibly contrasted with her own forlorn and desolate state, the dawning happiness of Lady Anne Seward. These things were in her thoughts by night and by day, and when she laid her flushed cheek on the pillow, moistened by her tears, if wearied nature " weighed her eye-lids down," the throbbing of her aching heart would wake her from her fitful slumbers, and hope, that used to come with morning's dawn to cheer her, had now for ever left her. Why then did she accept this offer? — so will every generous, high-spirited girl inquire — the answer I have already given — she had committed herself to the being she loved — it was known that she had — it was known that he had left her ; it is 188 COUSIN WILLIAM. true that Caroline's mind unfortunately was not trained upon principle, fortified by religion, or encouraged by good example — a better regulated understanding would perhaps have induced her to bearthehttle ills which assailed her, and treat with contempt, while she endured with patience, the sly, sententious, and malicious inuendoes of that bane of the world, an odious step- mother, and have prompted her to suffer without emotion the paltry mortifications such meanness could inflict ; but she could not stand the trial — she shrank from such a contest, and sought to fly from the once loved home of her father, to the calm repose of a home of her own. Let it be understood, for poor Caroline's sake, that she esteemed and respected her future husband — she could hot do otherwise. Matter of fact conversation and unpolished manners were his, in common with ten thousand of his fellow creatures who live on '* observing" what every body else observes but never thinks of talking about ; whose knowledge of the world is gleaned from the daily newspapers, and whose amusements are derived from the most innocent sources — but he was in every sense of the word good and honourable — kind in his COUSIN WILLIAM. 189 disposition, liberal in his principles, amiable in his conduct, and beloved by all who knew him- She, therefore, chose, perhaps — some will think — her father did, (but then fathers are bad judges of their daughters doings), wisely ; at all events she did choose, and that, as a point in our history, is the important fact; upon which the only observation I shall presume to make is, that I beUeve her own feelings would have prompted her to remain, at least for a much longer time, neuter, had not her cousin William himself urged her to an immediate decision. From the day of the dinner, which was fol- lowed on the part of Mr. Crosby by three doses of Cheltenham, six Barclay pills, one modicum of castor oil, and two papers of James's powders, and on the part of his lady by several jorums of camphorated julep, and that ex- quisite counteractor of over-acidulation, which the French call ea?i de vie, but which has no name in an English lady's medicine chest, the assiduities of Sir Mark were incessant. lie was always at Crosby House, where he made love after Jiis fashion, to the melody of his creaking boots, which might be heard every day, from two till five, in various parts of the mansion 190 COUSIN WILLIAM. and grounds : at the latter hour he proceeded homewards, dressed for dinner, and returned to pass the remainder of the evening with his Dulcinea. Fourteen days had tlius continued, and Caro- hne marvelled at hearing nothing of William"*s marriage ; perhaps she was mortified at not heavmgjrom him ; but she reflected, that now matters had gone to such lengths between her and Sir Mark, (for even the wedding-day had been spoken of, and lawyers put into requisition for the arrangements), perhaps William thought it would be indelicate and improper to write to her; and she was so convinced of his high feeling and propriety, that she was quite' sure he would not for the world infringe the rules of society in any conduct of his ; and so she con- tented herself by talking of him to Payis ; for the old people were much too prudent to mention a name, which while it could not fail to excite feelings in Caroline's breast terribly disadvanta- geous to .Sir Mark, might awaken something like uneasiness even in that worthy gentleman's observant mind ; her only solace therefore, was " wondering where cousin William was," and " what he was doing just then," and " what COUSIN WILLIAM. 191 Lady Anne was doing," and so on — to all of which wonderings Davis administered with that kindness and consideration which were no less characteristic of a good lady's maid, than of her devotion to the preuac chevalier who lends his name to our story. One evening, after a long walk with Sir Mark, in which in his way he had enumerated all the little arrangements he proposed to make as to the nuptial celebration, Caroline took leave of him till the morrow ; and oh, marvel ye men, and blush ye ladies, the ardent baronet impressed (literally for the first time) a kiss upon the downy cheek of his bride elect — whether Caro- line were more astonished or alarmed at this most heroic attack I cannot say ; certain it is, when she returned to the drawing-room, (for it was in the library, by moonlight, that the gallant gay Lothario ventured on such a prodigious piece of presumption)— she looked flushed, and her bright eyes sparkled, and her snowy bosom palpitated— Mrs. Crosby saw it. " Caroline, my love, what's the matter?" said she- " dear me — how red you look— eh, has the dog frightened you ?" '* No," said Caroline laughinff — " J have not been the least frightened, Ma'am, I assure you." J92 COUSIN WILLIAM. " What has happened, child ?" "Pshaw, my dear," said Crosby, *' don't ask the poor girl any such stuff: you were once young yourself — I could guess,, but I won't; give me my tamarind-drink, Gary, and answer no questions." The aptness of her father's guess made Caroline blush more deeply, and in some con- fusion she lighted her candle, kissed his cheek, shook her mother-in-law by the hand, and retired for the evening to contemplate the extraordinary boldness of her future husband. She reached her room ; Davis was there, evidently labouring under some agitation of mind. " Are you come up already. Miss ?" said she. " Yes, Davis," said Caroline, " I—" "^ You are not going to bed yet ?" asked Davis. "Why, 1 am not sleepy," said Caroline, " but—" "'Tis a lovely night,'' said Davis, "the moon is as bright as day ; it is not yet half past teM — don't you think a little walk would do you good, Miss Caroline r " I have walked,'* said Caroline; " I took a long walk with Sir Mark ; besides, I walked in the morning ; and, besides, it is too late." COUSIX V/ILLIAM. 193 " You used to walk later than this, with Mr. William," said Davis. " Ah !'' said Caroline ; " those days are gone; it might have been better perhaps they never had been — poor William !" "If he were here now. Miss, you would not refuse to go out, I think," said Davis. "I don't know," said Caroline — " but as he is not, it is hardly worth discussing the subject." " Miss Caroline," said Davis, who turned deadly pale, and seized her young mistress's hand, almost convulsively — "don't be frightened, don't alarm yourself— don't speak — he is here." " Who? — William.^*' said Caroline, in an agony of surprise. " Yes/' whispered Davis. " God forbid !" said Caroline. "Here, Miss, read — read this," said Davis, giving her a note. " Merciful Heaven, what shall I do !" said Caroline. Her knees shook— her teeth chattered. " What am I to do ? — Is he married ? — what is he doing here ?"' " That explains all,'' said Davis, who seemed nearly as much terrified as her mistress. VOL. I. K 194 COUSIN WILLIAM. Caroline's hands shook so, that with much difficulty she opened the note, which was written hastily in pencil ; she reaid as follows. " Beloved Caroline, " The trial was too much for me ; the triumph of love is achieved. I shrank from the com- pletion of the mercenary transfer I was about to conclude : you, 'you, you alone reign in my heart and rule my destiny ; angelic girl, come to me. It would be madness — ruin to me, to be seen at this crisis by your family — by Sir Mark, by anybody. I have been waiting the whole even- ing; I have seen you pass close by me, vvith this man, who never, never must be your husband. I cannot endure the thought : all treaty — all ne- gociation would now be vain ; the means of flight are at hand — I have sacrificed all for you— ^bring Davis with you ; come to the hermitage, I am there ; there you will find me dead when the morning dawns, if I am now slighted. The separation of Lady Anne and myself is final, is eternal ; do not kill 1dm that loves you better than his life's blood. " Your's always always, " William," COUSIN WILLIAM. 195 Caroline, when she had read these lines, fell on her knees by her bed-side, and hid her face in her hands ; the struggle was momentary, a flood of tears relieved her — she started up. " What's to be done ?" said she staring wildly about her — " What have / done ? Sacrificed my beloved William — the dearest, fondest hopes of my heart — his happiness and my own. What on earth can I do ? — how am I to act ? See — see — for my sake he has found it impossible to sell himself to this rich woman, and I have been able to give Mm up for Sir Mark; — but then he desired it— it was his own doing. Davis, tell me — what can I do— what shall I do?" " You'll see him, Miss," said Davis, " at all events."" " Oh no — no— if I do — " said Caroline, " no I must not see him — how can I — at night — and after what has happened to-day between me and Sir Mark.'* " La ! Miss Carohne," said Davis, whose notions of anything '' happening" were not limit- ed by the idea of a chaste salute — '' what c/oyou mean .''" " Oh never mind — never mind," said the poor girl, " what shall I do.^ — If I see him—" K 2 196 COUSIN WILLIAM. . ^* You'll marry him, Miss — and what then ? — you love him," said Davis. ' " If I do,'' said Canjline, " I ought not to marry any one else ; but even supposing I did wish to see him — they will all be gone to bed — I cannot leave the house at this hour — I cannot deceive. Suppose my father or Mrs. Crosby came to my room ?" " Wait, wait," said Davis, whose wily arts were all in requisition, " it will be time enough when they are all at rest ; we can go down the back staircase. Miss; Til go with you— you should see poor Mr. William : besides, it is so considerate of him not coming to the house ; besides, if you do love him '' " Davis," said Caroline, " if I do love him, I repeat, I ought not to have accepted Sir Mark." " But, Miss," said Davis, " Mr. William has a chaise herein waiting— if " *' A chaise for what ?" said Carohne. " If you should consent,'' said Davis. " Consent— how ?" " If you will yet be his," said Davis, whose great fear appeared to be of alarming the deli- cate feelings of her young mistress, " there is the opportunity." COUSIN WILLIAM. 197 The proposal — the possibility seemed to strike into Caroline's brain like lightning — so she might yet escape the miseries of indifference which awaited her — so she might reap the rich harvest of her love — she sat down for a moment. " I will see him," were the first words she ut- tered — " come what may, I must — I will see my cousin William.'' '^ Oh ! I am so glad !" said Davis, " I was so afraid you would not, and then perhaps some- thing terrible would have happened." '^ Yes, yes," said Caroline, not attending to what her minister was talking about — " Why should I not see him — he is my cousin — my oldest friend — my play-fellow — how foolish I was to think I could not see him — he will listen to what has happened — he will advise — why did I even doubt about meeting him .?" Thus love-guided, the poor girl, from starting with horror at her cousin's proposal, at last found out that it was only natural and right that she slwidd comply with his wishes, and quite won- dered at her own insensibility, which at first in- duced her to think of refusing. The mode of putting in execution this hopeful project came next to be considered ; the lingering 198 COUSIN WILLIAM. minutes drawled whilst the pair of plotters listened to the ascending steps of Mr. and Mrs. Crosby, who, as it happened, passed to their chamber without visiting the cMldy as they called her ; and in less than half an hour the two in- valids — Jie^ by dint of some five and thirty drops of tinct. opii, and she by the force of camphorated julep, and that nameless spirit with which it was flavoured — had fallen into the sweet slumbers which their nightly narcotic kindly procured for them ; evidence of which, Davis received from the peculiar noise which Mr. Crosby made between his palate and nostrils, which Mrs. Crosby, thanks to her lore, would have termed stertor, but which Davis, who knew and called everything in nature by its commonest name, denominated snoring — a performance in which, upon the present occasion, not only he, but also Mrs. Crosby, were employed with equal force. The music of the spheres could not have been more melodious to Caroline, than that pro- duced by her worthy father and amiable mother- in-law^-five minutes did not elapse, after the happy announcement of this security, before the way to the back staircase was opened, and Davis, leading Caroline, descended to the lower door COLSIN WILLIAM. 199 which led into the stable-yard ; having crossed which, they, by the gardener's gate, could make their way to the well known place of rendezvous. Stone staircases never creak — a fact which I need hardly impress upon the minds of those who have a turn for making nocturnal visits to rooms, to which (however confidently they may be expected in them,) they have no business to go — accordingly the mistress and the maid reached the bottom of the flight in safety : the door below not having been fastened, yielded quietly to their push — the yard-dog slumbered on his post — the gardener's gate was open. Whether all these curious coincidences occurred by dint of William's gold it is not now worth stop- ping to determine — his influence over the family was avowedly great, and such were his fascinat- ing manners and winning ways, that any of them would have died to serve him. Across the dewy grass — along the well known walk — through the tangled shrubbery, stepped onwards with their light feet the trembling pair — the hermitage broke upon their view — they reached its door — William was there, and in a moment caught his blushing cousin in his arms SOO COUSIN WILLIAM. —that was the accustomed embrace of family connection — natural, and by no means improper. Da\is hemmed a little, and walked past the entrance. «' William," said Caroline, who was resolved to be cool and guarded in her conduct during the interview, " what brings you here ? — you must see how you expose me to danger and difficulty, even to distress and possible disgrace, by seeking such a meeting as this." *' Disgrace — danger, Caroline, v/hy ?" said William. " I have never disavowed, never dis- owned the ardent affection I feel for you — you don't imagine, dearest girl, that I have requested this meeting as a mere 4;ransient interview, to be followed by an eternal separation.? No, Caroline, I have always loved you ; I tell you again that for my father's sake I was anxious, as I felt it to be my duty, to strain every point to relieve his embarrassment. I quitted the bright flame of love to worship at the dull altar of wealth ; my heart misgave me ; you, you beamed across my mind, and I dashed the cup from my lip at the moment it was brimmed before me ; that's over ; I return to you — I repent — I recant all my COUSIN WILLIAM. 201 errors, and am come to snatch you from certain misery to share the happiness which such an angel alone can confer." " Oh, William, this is cruel," said CaroHne, who was crying like a child. " Consider how far this engagement with Sir Mark has gone."" " What of that, love ?" said AVilliam, « my engagement with Lady Anne went farther — even to the altar itself.''' " You, too, advised this marriage,'* said Caro- line. " You even sanctioned mine,'' said William ; " let us walk onwards — this way — take my arm, love — does not this remind you of the happy hours of our past lives — does it not give assur- ance of the future bliss which awaits us ?" *' This is cruel, cruel indeed, AVilliam," said Caroline, " it is awakening a hope only to crush it." " I tell you no, dearest," said Morley, draw- ing her closer to him as they walked, *' argument with your father or explanation with Sir Mark would avail nothing — act, and the thing is done — / have set the example— they know v/e love each other — and if Sir Mark do not, it is no injustice to let him know it when we have acteJ K 3 20^ COUSIN WILLIAM. upon our feelings— nay, Caroline, it is surely better for you to take such a step than marry Mm, and keep our love a secret." " But, Wilham," said Caroline, " I have argued all this with myself before, it is now all too late— what will be thought of me F" • " What may be thought of me ?" said Wil- liam : " that you were too candid, too ingenuous to marry against ^your inclinations for advan- tage — nobody, my sweet girl, will ever give you credit for becoming Lady Terrington for love of your husband; — to be sure there is a title such as it is." " Which, perhaps," said Caroline, " you fancy weighs in the scale against my love for you." " Love — did you still say love, Caroline .^" said William. " Yes," said Caroline, — " I never disguised from myself — I never disguised horn you the real state of my aifections — why should I now.^ — I do not take less credit for making that affec- tion subservient to my duty. I have told you a thousand times that I could alone be happy with you — what then ? — circumstances and your own advice have parted us." COUSIN WILLIAM. 203 " No, no, they might have done so,'"* inter- rupted William, " but we still may be saved. Think, think, Caroline, on the contrast — marry this Sir Mark — he is all you say, good, honour- able, kind and amiable; but what taste, what feehng of his, assimilates with yours ? — what rapture, what delight can he bestow, who has not your heart ? — Think what a life of trial and torture you propose to yourself, throughout the whole of which, love and duty are to be struggling. To him you are bound to give your- self, body and soul. What a wretched union that is, where only the former is in fact surrendered. With me, Caroline, with your William, the days will fly like hours ; my life devoted to your happiness, your comfort my only care ; — but then I forget — I have no title." " How can you be so foolish, William.^" said Caroline actually angry, " how I am to act I know not — I — '' ••' Do you love Sir Mark ?''' said William pas- sionately. " NO,'' said Caroline, firmly. " Caroline," whispered AVilliam tenderly, " do you love me?'' Her head sank on his shoulder, and the tears fell in torrents from her eyes. 204 COUSIN WILLIAM. He pressed her to his heart. " William," said she, raising her head, " think for God's sake, think what is to become of me if I consent to this step ?"" " No harm can befall you, Caroline,*" said William : "I would rather perish than the smallest danger or difficulty should accrue to you — we were always intended for man and wife. I repeat, the precarious state of my father's circumstances drove me to break what certainly was by implication and tacit agreement a treaty ; my feelings for yoti have now overcome my duty towards him — here I am at 3'our feet, an ardent, a repentant, a devoted lover." " But my father," said Caroline, " it will break his heart — besides — an elopement — I — " " It is not as if we were strangers," said William ; " it is not as if I were an adventurer ; it is not as if such a step were taken in a moment of heated passion: — we have lived our lives together, have been bred up in the same pursuits^ — in the same house." "But,"said Caroline pausing, — "oh, Heavens, what am I to do !" " Be mine, beloved of my heart,'' said Mor- ley, " and each succeeding hour we live together shall make us dearer to each other." COUSIN WILLIAM. ^ 205 " But,'' said Caroline,—" even— Good God what shall I do ! — even if l—did consent — I — could not — I have — how could I do it — I — oh no, no, no — I could never return to the house again — I — " " If you mean," said William coolly and de- liberately, " for present convenience, I dare say Davis has provided for that emergencj^, and she of course will accompany us in the carriage.'' " Have you really a carriage here?" said Caroline, gradually enduring with greater cool- ness to listen even to the details of the so lately dreaded scheme. '^ At the park gate in the lane," said Wil- liam. " Davis," said Carohne, turning wildly round and trembhng, " if — if — I should go— you would go with me ?"" *' To be sure, Miss " said Davis; " and here," added she, pointing to a bundle which Caro- line had fancied was merely her cloak, " is everything in the way of dress you may want till you return.*" " When should we return," said Caroline — " that is," correcting herself, " ifv/e went ?" ^6 COUSIN WILLIAM. " In three or four days at farthest," said Wil- liam, '' we must take the old road to Gretna, Caroline/"* " I really am bewildered," said the poor girl —"and yet, I " " It must he, dearest life,"" said William— " it has been always ordained, and I rejoice that I have not rashly broken the bond ; — step on, be- fore, Davis,"" continued he, for they had by this time nearly reached the gate, " and put your bundle into the carriage — it is all ready, for it has been here these three hours." " Perhaps," said Caroline, catching at a sha- dow to divert his intention, " they are not wait- ing now."" " Yes, Miss,'' said Davis, " I see the chaise."'"' And she went forward, and opening the gate, betrayed to Carohne's sight the 'vehicle destined to bear her from her home to all the joys of love and matrimony. One of the post-boys opened the door and lowered the steps— the bundle was placed on the seat. At the threshold of the gate, Caro- line's heart failed her — she again cried bitterly. " I cannot — I will not go, William," said she. COUSIN WILLIAM. 207 " Come, dearest, dearest," said he, in an under tone, " don't let these people see your agitation — come." She sank supinely on his arm, and he led her forth ; she crossed the threshold, and passed to the carriage door — Morley assisted her. A man instantly interposed himself. " Captain Morley/' said he, " how d'ye do, Sir .?" The man was muffled up in a great coat, but the moon beamed full in his face, and Morley knew him in an instant. " The devil!" said Morley, " be off. Sir,— I—" " Stay, stay, Sir," said the man — " you can't get in there.'' " Post-boys," said Morley, *' do your duty to this fellow.'" ^^ They know better, Sir," said the man; '' here. Bill," said he, calling to a companion, " lay hold of the captain.'' " Hold — touch me if you dare," said Mor- ley. " Knock him down," said the first man, " if he lifts his finger against you." ^'- Good God !" said Caroline, " what is all this? — speak somebody." 208 COUSIN WILLI.iM. " These rascals," said Morley — ** Stop, stop. Captain, civil words, Sir, if you please." "Be civil yourselves then," said Morley ; " follow me, but let me go my way." " Why, Captain Morley," said the man ; " I'll tell you — whenever I am fairly treated, I do my duty as civilly as I can. I had you. Sir, two days ago. ' I was fool enough to put confidence in you, and you marched off, and now I've got you, I'll be hanged if I let you go one inch— so. Miss, you had better go back again, and let this gentleman, and Bill, and I, take the chaise." "Go,"" said Caroline wildly, — " where, Sir ?" " To Cambridge jail, ma'am, that's the cap- tain's lodgings,"" said the man. *' To jail, what does it mean.^" said Caro- line. " They are bailiffs. Miss," said Davis in a whisper, whose worldly knowledge had in the present instance led her to a right conclu- sion. " This is infernally provoking," said Mor- ley, affecting to carry the thing off with some- COUSIN WILLIAM. 209 thing like indifference. " I believe, dearest, I must go with these persons — but — " " Stop, stop, stop, Captain," said the senior bailiff, who perceived that Morley was en- deavouring to regain the inside of the gate, " can't go there, Sir.'^ " William Morley," said CaroHne, '' what on earth have you done to be subject to this in- sult and controul .^'^ " Insult, Miss,'' said the old bailiff. « God bless your innocent heart, the captain is used to it ; its not much insult for honest tradesmen to try to get their money." " None of your conversation if you please, I\Ir. Tap," said Morley — " of course. Sir, I shall go with you — but — '^ " What horrid men," said poor Caroline, un- consciously. " Yes, Miss," said Tap — who would speak, being, as he him self said, pro tern Sheriff of Cam- bridgeshire, " I have no doubt we appear so to you , and the duty of one of us is not over pleasant ; but we have feelings and characters to support, as well as men in other professions : when we are treated fairly, we act fairly towards them as we 210 COUSIN WILLIAM. deals with ; but as this gentleman has played me and my partner one slippery trick, why we are de- termined he shall not play us another — wherein, I don^ doubt you yourself, Miss, will say as we are not wrong." " Go back, Caroline," said Morley, — '' I can't speak — go back, love, and I'll be here to-morrow." " Good bail will be wanted, Mr. Morley," said Tap. " Pray, be quiet, Sir," said Morley, " if not, dearest, 1*11 write to our friend," looking signi- ficantly at Davis. " I don't comprehend all this,'' said Caro- line — " it opens a new and dreadful scene to me.; come, Davis, we have been here too long. William, you should not have urged such a scene.'* ^' Be calm, be calm, dear," said William, f Come, Sir, open the door — it is useless to de- lay. — God bless you, Caroline — I'll explain all this — forgive me — good bye, heaven bless you." " Good bye, Wilham," said Caroline, affect- ing composure. Morley and the bailiffs stepped into the chaise, the women re-entered the park. COUSIN WILLIAM. 211 " You know the jail, Dick ?" said one of the post-boys to the other jocosely. " t think I do, too,'' replied the other, — " all right ;"" and away they went. Caroline's fortitude here forsook her, and she fell senseless into the arms of Davis. 21^ COU51N WILLIAM. CHAPTER VII. Th' attempt, and not the deed, confounds us. Milton. When poor Caroline awoke to a sense of her situation, she was in her own room stretched on her bed, to which she had been conveyed more dead than alive by her faithful minister, without alarming any of the family. It would be vain to attempt a description of her feelings ; the recollection of what she had seen, of what she had consented to do, of the frustration of the scheme to which she had agreed — the nature of the interruption — the pos- sible notoriety of the circumstance — her actual exposure to no less than four individuals, not one of whom was bound by tie or obligation to COUSIN WILLIAM. 213 maintain that secrecy which alone could save her from all the evils of scandal and gossip ; all these contingencies presented themselves, and to all these was added the anticipation of the diurnal visit of Sir Mark Terrington, the man to whom she was so soon to be united, and from whom she had so recently risked everything to escape. The precise meaning of William's capture she could not comprehend ; the terms of arrest and jail v.ere naturally associated in her un- worldly mind with offence and crime, for she did not quite understand that the constitutional mode of enforcing payment of a debt, is depriving the debtor of the means of paying, by dragging him from his friends and connections, and shutting him up in a prison. William himself suffered not a little from the fear of her misconception upon this subject, nor was he in his progress to Cam- liridge at all at his ease upon other points ; inasmuch, as although the negociations for an exchange into the line were in great for- M-ardness at head-c[uarters, which when com- pleted, would have the effect of taking him to 214 COUSI>^ WILLIAM.. join his regiment abroad, he was seriously alarmed, lest the report of his caption might reach London before he could procure the means of release, and that his numerous metropolitan creditors would lodge detainers against him, and thus mar the only hope of extrication left; namely, his speedy removal from England. In this dilemma, Mr. William Morley Seward determined to dispatch a special messenger to his uncle Crosby, requesting his assistance to release him from his temporary pressing diffi- culty — a debt only of six hundred pounds, which he had inevitably contracted, by accept- ing a bill for a brother officer, who from unfore- seen circumstances had been driven to dishonour the contracting bill which he had given. It is needless to add, as Sir Mark Terrington would have said, that such a story in the hands of Wil- liam Morley lost nothing of effect for want of strong point and forcible language ; nor was the hardship of the case less powerfully made out by the arrest having occurred as he was on his way to his dear uncle, to communicate the unex- pected termination of his matrimonial scheme with the Lady Anne. COUSIN WILLIAM. 215 This letter was accordingly dispatched so as to reach Crosby's about two o'clock in the day. The reader will easily imagine that Mrs. Davis was not forgotten ; another letter to her address was brought by the same messenger ; Sir Mark Terrington being, as usual, at Crosby Hall. The letter of Morley to his uncle we know enough of, to let him read it first to himself and then to his lady, without submitting a copy to the reader. That from the same hand to Caro- line, undercover to Davis, was brief and abrupt : he hardly knew what to say to her^ because he felt sure that she would see or hear of his letter to her father ; he spoke confidently of seeing her in the evening of that day — pressed her to complete the design she had commenced the night before — urged her to make prudent pre-, parations for flight ; that it now became a duty to herself to do so, since there was evidence uncontroulable by him— amongst her inferiors — of her disposition " that way tending ;" "for," added he, " I was mortified to distraction to find that your person had been recognised by the post-boys ; everything, therefore, combines as it were to hasten the devoutly to be wished consummation of our happiness." gl6 COUSIN WILLIAM. And so he wrote, and so he raved ; all of which writings and ravings were to poor Caro- line clearly the effect of his heart-felt love and anxiety for her. His concluding bit of informa- tion, " that he had applied to her father for as- sistance, which would be sufficient proof that his arrest was only a civil action," neither the mistress nor the maid could construe properly. I>avis declared that, for her part, she had no notion of such actions being called civil ; " but," he added, " that should the relief he asked be granted, she might expect him again at the same place of rendezvous that night." To solve part of the last paradoxical para- graph, however, the females had no great time allowed them, for Davis had been obliged to break in upon a Ute-a-Ute^ performed by Sir Mark and her young lady, by telling her that she was wanted, in order to get the billet-doux of her cousin William into her possession. Nor had they deliberated many minutes before they heard Mr. Crosby ring the bell of the library, where he had been holding a council with his wife as to what should be done. Mrs. Crosby, whose self-love vanished before the chance of an exposure of the circumstances, COUSIN WILLIAM. 217 voted for tlie supply ; or, speaking more in her way, " prescribed a draft," which Crosby forth- with wrote, and enclosed to his hopeful nephew ; adding, liowever, that, for reasons wl>:ch he would explain at some future period, (for Mor- ley never hinted at his design of leaving Eng- land) he would wish him to postpone his in- tended visit to Crosby. The letter went on to give advice, express hopes, and invoke bless- ings ; the value of which, in the estimation of the worthy gentleman for whom they were des- tined, I do not presume to estimate ; all I have to do is, to say, that with this epistle went one to William, which, however genuine and in- genuous, was one, which, when it is recollected that Caroline was but seventeen or " so"" when she wrote it, and that she left the table at which it was written to join Sir Mark Terrington in the drawing-room, could only be excused on the score of that infatuation and blind devotion to a beloved object which a mind constituted and trained as her"s was, would not fail to cherish for a being all eclat and accomphshment, like William Morley. That she could, having sealed her letter, and VOL. I. L S18 COUSIN WILLIAM. given it moreover the imprimatur of her rosy lips, go down to Sir Mark, seat herself opposite to him on the sofa, resume her work, and take up not only that, but^ the thread of the con- versation where she had left it, unruffled, un- moved, and unagitated, might seem marvellous to those who are not aware of the self-possession inherent in women of every age and every class. To be sure, with ' all his observation Sir Mark was not much of an observer ; and even if she did betray a little palpitation, he was too delicate to notice it, and the flitting blush upon her cheek passed with him for the common con- sequence of a " run down stairs.*" One thing was now certain, that Mr. Crosby was apprised of his nephew's embarrassments ; what his determination might have been as to relieving them of course poor Caroline could not imagine, but when the worthy old gentle- man re-entered the room where she and the bridegroom elect were sitting, there appeared upon his countenance an expression more of sorrow than of anger, mingled with a feehng of self-satisfaction at having done a kindness. Novice as Caroline was in worldly matters she (COUSIN WILLIAM. 219 could read eyes, and she decided in a mo- ment that her father had acted exactly as she wished. " I have just heard from your cousin Wil- liam,'' said Crosby to his daughter, who could not help saying something on a subject so near her heart and his own pocket. " Indeed!" said Miss Crosby, who was hourly improving in the art of hypocrisy — " Where is he ?" The question was not easily answered. " He is at Cambridge j ust now," said the old gentleman. Sir Mark Terrington, to whom this said cousin, he hardly knew why, was a constant source of uneasiness, opened his eyes and ears. " Is he coming here .^" said Caroline, affecting to drop a purse she was netting, lest she should betray too much anxiety for the answer. " Certainly not," said Crosby, Sir Mark's countenance brightened — Caro- line's underwent a very dissimilar change — but a moment's reflection convinced her of the skill and prudence of William's manoeuverings, and she concluded he had said so, only to deceive her father. L 2 2^0 COUSIN WILLIAM. Now were made evident the fruits of that system of education upon which this poor de- voted girl had been brought forward— now were made manifest the results of that carefulness of body, in her parents which supplanted the minis- tration to the soul — now were the delusions of her treacherous cousin, aided by the tamperings of her fee'd menial, come into full play. The deceptive daughter, conscious of superior in- formation, clandestinely received from her con- cealed lover, heard her father's intelligence with calmness, and silently sneered at its want of authenticity. To Sir Mark Terrington her conduct to-day liaid been more than ever agreeable. He was not sufficiently an adept to know that real affec- tion in woman is timid, shrinking, and appre- hensive ; and that she who really loves; trem- bles at the consciousness of her passion. Carc- Jine to-day conversed with him freely and in- differently — livelily and carelessly — and every now and then her intended husband would find her eyes steadily fixed upon his vacant coun- tenance. Alas ! she gazed on him, and thought of another. She was unconscious of the look ; but he construed the intensity of her regard COUSIN WILLIAM. 221 into a most favourable symptom, and never re- gretted so much as on this particular morning, tliat a public dinner, at which he was compelled to preside, called him from his wonted place at Crosby Hall. To Caroline his absence was a relief for which she gave much thanks : her love for William had that day possessed itself of every feeling of her heart, of every working of her mind : she saw Jjim involved in dangers and difficulties for her sake — for her sake he had rejected the bright offers which presented themselves to his accept- ance — he had spurned an alliance with the noble family of Seward — he had even sacrificed the interests of his father, and had subjected himself to insult and imprisonment for love of HER. With such sentiments, with such a conviction, and with the determination never to be the wife of Sir Mark Terrington, it must be clear that the creaking of that worthy baronet's boots, which announced his departure for the day, must have been music to her ears— nay — she excused herself from dressing for dinner on a plea of cold, (for she knew a plea on any matter of health would be admitted,) that she might be ^22 COUSIN WILLIAM. better .prepared for the flight which she knew she should be called upon that night to under- take, bj him who had sworn that he could not exist without her. The dinner (regulated consonantly with the absence of Sir Mark) consisting of mutton broth, boiled chickens, rice-pudding, apple-fritters, and a host of harmless things, such as might be eaten without a chance of consequent death, passed off much as domestic dinners in dull families do — the medicated pickle pot and the aerated ginger were in full play, and it is to be pre- sumed were as usual found perfectly efficient, and the scant dessert was placed upon the table more to be looked at than tasted, for fear of consequences. " Well, Gary," said Crosby, when the ser- vants had left the room, and he was indulging himself with a glass of red currant jelly dis- solved in water — "you don't ask after William Morley." " La ! Mr. Crosby," said Mrs. Crosby, " what are you going to talk about that for .?"" " Why," said Crosby, " I think it right Caroline should know the truth. Your cousin William is in jail, Cary." COUSIN WILLIAM. " In jail !"" exclaimed Caroline, with a sur- prise as well feigned as if she had been a hire- ling actress, who is paid so many shillings every Saturday morning for repeating sentiments she cannot understand, and affecting passions which she can neither feel nor appreciate. " Yes, hard and fast in Cambridge jail," said Crosby. " I wonder,*" said Mrs. Crosby, " whether they have good medical advice there; I sup- pose in those cold cells and straw beds '' " Straw devils !'"* interrupted Crosby. *' De- pend upon it William is as snug and comfort- able as we are ; it is but a transient embarrass- ment, and the poor fellow boggled at sending to me about it." " Did you relieve him, Sir ?" said Caroline. " Yes, Miss, I did," said Crosby ; «< and I did more — I told him I thought he had better not trouble himself to come here just now, eh." " La! Mr. Crosby," said Mrs. Crosby, *' how can you go on in that manner .?" " What manner ?" said Crosby. " Isn't the girl going to be married to Sir Mark Terring- ton—don't I know that Sir Mark Terrington 224 COUSIN WILLIAM. thinks there is some sort of penchant for her on the part of WiUiam Morley ; why should he be disturbed or worried ? — he is one of those men who would be off in a twinkling, if he thought he were watched." " Just like my canary birds," said Mrs. Crosby ; " they never will build if they are looked at ; but what does it signify now, things have gone too far for aiiy backing out, my love. The lawyers, you know, are actively employed in preparation, and the day almost fixed."" Caroline shuddered at the correctness of this statement. *' All that is quite true," said Crosby, " per- fectly correct, my love. Caroline, just ring the bell and ask for my magnesia." " Magnesia," interrupted Mrs. Crosby: " are you sure, my dear — won't you have ginger " " No, no — heartburn," said Crosby, " no- thing else ; do as I bid you, Cary." The bell was rung. '* Your master's magnesia bottle and a table- spoon," said Mrs. Crosby to the butler. " As I was saying," continued Crosby, " it is quite true the thing is settled ; but as I have COUSIN WILL r AM. 225 no desire to have it unsettled, I think William may as well stay away till it is definitively and immovably fixed.^ Caroline's heart beat rapidly — her cheek flushed— her eyes filled with tears — ^she saw that her father was aware of the feeling; which existed between William and herself— she had just heard of his kindness to him, she thereby judged his disposition towards his nephew — she was ready to choke with agitation. The servant brought in the magnesia and spoon, put them down and retired. Mrs. Crosby measured out a dose, Mr. Crosby took it, "As for William's embarrassments," re- sumed the old gentleman, " they are trifles ; but Ins match with Lady Anne is at an end: do you know ihat^ Miss Gary?"" Her heart ovei'flowed — a thousand contending feeling-s overwhelmed her — she could not thus deliberately tell a direct falsehood ; the dread of that— the hope of something, she scarce knew what — the horror of a discovery consequent upon lier recent impi*udence — the terror of the coming night's adventure — the prospect of her marriage L \j 22(> COUSIN William. with Sir Mark, all burst upon her in a torrent which she could not withstand, and with a wildness almost amounting to phrenzy, and regardless of every oth^r feeling but the one, she threw herself at her father's feet, and hiding her burning face in her hands, sobbed out in an agony of grief and exclamation — " I know all — I know everything relating to him." " Caroline !" said M rs. Crosby, rising from her seat, " what is this — epilepsy — hysterics — " " Nature, by heaven !" exclaimed her father, " nothing but nature, Mrs. Crosby." «« Forgive me, father," cried the half senseless girl — " I am guilty. I am wrong — undutiful — but consider " " Hush, hush, my darling girl," said Crosby, taking her burning forehead between his hands, *' be calm, be calm, I do forgive." " I have heard from William,'* said Caroline. " Clandestinely, Miss Crosby !" said her step- mother. " Stuff, don't interrupt her," said Crosby. " Well, child .?" . " / am the cause of his refusing to marry Lady Anne Seward," said Caroline — " / am COUSIN WILLIAM. 227 the wretch who induced hhn to reject her fortune — I am the unhappy creature who drove him to neglect his father's interests, and I it is, who have brought him to the state in which he has been compelled to apply to you for relief." " This is a pretty business indeed," said Mrs. Crosby. '' Partly our own faults," said Crosby ; " shut the stable door when the steed is stolen, says the proverb, — umph — well — and are you sorry that I have prohibited his appearance here, Caroline?" Now came the dreadful crisis : should she con- fess that she had seen him clandestinely — that she had acceded to the proposal of an elopement — that she had witnessed his arrest — she would have told her father at that moment everything that had transpired —but her mother-in-law she would not speak before. " Go, my dear child,'* said Crosby, *' get off your knees — go and sit down and compose yourself." Carohne went to her chair, and sobbed con- vulsively. 228 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Will you have some hartshorn," said Mrs> Crosby, ** some sal volatile^ or perhaps two and twenty drops of " " No, no," said Crosby, " no drops — let her recover herself." " I am recovered," said Caroline, ** I can speak. I admit that my cousin's misfortunes, occasioned by me, have caused this avowal, so ill according with my acceptance of Sir Mark Terrington. I then thought differently — he ad- vised me to marry — he had resolved to marry, himself^but he has repented — he has turned with disgust from the object of his—" " What ?" interrupted Crosby—" Ava- rice ! Caroline — if William really loved you, brought up as you were together, why did he not openly propose himself ? I always anticipated it ; I should never have objected to it ; on the con- trary; but no, he left you for a richer and nobler alliance, and now foiled in that " *' No, dearest father, he " *' I knozv nothing," ^aid Crosby, " at least not so much as t/ou appear to know, but I doubt ■' *' Indeed, no," sobbed Caroline; " I know not COUSIN WILLIAM. 229 how to tell you all; but true it is, that the strug- gle was to him tremendous ; I know it, for he has confessed it to me." " When ?" said Mrs. Crosby, whose eyes opened to their greatest possible stretch. " No matter, madam," said Caroline ; " I know it — I know myself to be the cause of all his present difficulties, and I cannot but feel that / ought to sacrifice something, everything for himr " You mean, Caroline," said Crosby, '^ that you would rather marry William Morley than Sir Mark Terrington .?" The question was answered by one of those floods of grief that are unequivocal. " Then, by heaven you shall marry him !'' said the invalid. The world vanished from the eyes of the poor girl, whose tears again flowing in torrents re- lieved her from fainting. " 1 never," said Crosby, " will sacrifice a child of mine against her inclinations : the disclosure is providential ; William has behaved honourably in rejecting the lady, and to-morrow morning I will break the whole affair to Sir Mark, who is JI30 COUSIN WILLIAM. too kind and too generous, to enforce a right not sanctioned by feeling, and who cannot be so great a simpleton as to wish for a hand without a heart." " Well," said Mrs. Crosby, not a muscle of her face moved, " / have long made up my mind to be suiprised at nothing. I must go and see whether they have got the ginger and senna properly prepared for your mixture to-night, and you may discuss this affair between yourselves : / wash my hands of the business. When you choose coffee, Mr. Crosby, let me be called." Saying which, Mrs. Crosby rose up like a vision, and quitted the drawing-room with all the stateliness and composure of a tragedy queen. "Caroline," said Crosby, when his lady was safely out of the room, " come and sit here, child. Why didn't you tell me of this attach- ment of yours to your cousin ? there was nothing either strange or blameable in it ; it was on the contrary natural, and we ought to have expected it ; indeed I suspect my wife had her notions that way; why didn't you tell us — why not confide, eh r COUSIN WILLIxVM. 231 " How could I confide," said Caroline, " when the attachment appeared exclusively on my side ? I could not know, should perhaps never have known, the real state of William's feelings, had they not been developed by circumstances." ^' And he rejected Lady Anne for you V said Crosby, fixing his eyes steadfastly on her face. " He did," said Caroline : '* he has told me so." " Then," said Crosby, " I promise you "" What ! it may be difficult to guess, for just at that moment a servant entered the room with a note, which *he delivered to his master, saying that one of the people belonging to the inn in the village was waiting for an answer. " My spectacles, Caroline," said Crosby : " here, leave the note. 111 ring when I want you," added he to the servant. " Who is this from V continued he, eyeing every part of the outside of the letter minutely, seal, direction and all, as if there were not a shorter way of getting at the information he desired, by opening it at once. " 'Tis from Morley," said the old gentleman. Caroline's heart was dancing again in a moment. ^2 COUSIN WILLIAM. *' From William, Sir?" said she. " No," said Crosby, " from his father ; stay, do you read it, my eyes fail me sadly, I must get some mure tutty." * Caroline read. " Dear Crosby, *' Knowing how you are circumstanced at the moment, and the probability there is, of your being engaged with company where my presence might not be desirable, I have halted at the Crosby Arms ; and despatch this to know if you can give me an hour's conversation without in- convenience. Should this evening be occupied, I v\ill remain here to-night, and go up to you in the morning; the matter presses, and I am not very desirous of staying long in one place. " Yours always, dear Crosby, '' W. MORLEY." The last few words were underscored. " Write a note for me, Caroline,"" said Cros- by, '' and bid him come immediately ; this is opportune, and the more opportune, since I have heard your confession, my child : write therefore — it is as if providence cared for us even in such worldly concerns as these." To say that Caroline obeyed her father's COUSIN WILLIAM. 233 commands with the greatest activit}-, is to say nothing : the pen seemed to fly in her taper fingers, and in less than two minutes one of those beautifully unintelligible manuscripts, which always charm him who receives them, and all look exactly alike, was finished, doubled up triangularly, sealed with a miniature seal; and in less than two minutes more, the Mercury of the Crosby Arms was on his way back to old Mr. Morley. " Come here and kiss your father," said Crosby to Caroline. " This visit of my brother- in-law is not more extraordinary from the rarity of such events, than it is from its occurrence on the night when I have been let a little into the secrets of your heart, and when for the first time for the last month Sir Mark has been ab- sent from his post." " You forgive me then. Sir P" said Caroline. Who could deny forgiveness.^ — she looked like an angel as she asked the question — the fond paternal pressure of his lips was the most elo- quent and the most natural answer he could give. According to IMrs. Crosby's request, she was summoned to coffee, and when she appeared, 234 COUSIN WILLIAM. and was forewarned of the intended visit of Mr. Morley, she evinced neither pleasure nor anger, sorrow nor disappointment at the intelligence — she said she was surprised ; and ugly and old, and rigid and frigid as she was, the moment after she heard the announcement of the visita- tion, up she got, and proceeding to the look- ing-glass, set her fly-cap and the curls of her *^ front"" into as much order as the parting twilight permitted. The servants had removed the coffee equi- page, and Mrs. Crosby was about, I suspect, to make some very disagreeable observation upon things in general, when Mr. Morley was an- nounced, which, for the moment, stopped the ^ebullition of her spite. He was, of course, well received by Crosby, and as a matter of course by his lady. — Caroline ran to him, and catching him round the neck, gave him a kiss as a dutiful niece should do, and not for the sake of her cousin William, who was his son — as some very young readers might ima- gine. ^* Moi-ley, we have just finished coffee— will you have some tea .?" said Crosby. COUSIN WILLIAM. 235 " None, I thank you," said Morley. " That's right, Mr. Morley," said Mrs. Crosby — '' depend upon it my doctor is an oracle — he says that tea keeps you awake — shakes your nerves, and is the worst thing in the world, if you are troubled with the — — " " Well," interrupted Mr. Crosby, " never mind — perhaps Morley is not troubled with anything.'"' " The fact is," said Morley, " I have taken some coffee, or that which did duty for it, at the inn below, which is graced with your arms and honoured by your name. — I am anxious, Crosby," continued he, in a tone which shewed he was anxious, " to say a few words to you, ^vhich '-' " Which," said Mr. Crosby, " you may say here, Morley — you have dropped in upon us opportunely, I may almost say providen- tially. — I can nearly anticipate the object of your visit, and circumstances have occurred in my family this afternoon, which render our re- tiring to debate the question quite unnecessary. This lady" (pointing to his wife) " and even thai one," (pointing to Caroline) " may be trusted with all you have to say."" 236 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Let me ask first," said Morley, " are you aware of my son's situation ?" " We are," said Crosby ; " and I conclude you know that however unpleasant it might have been some hours since, by this time he is emancipated." " I did 720^ know any such thing," said Mor- ley ; "for although I grieve to say his conduct has been such as is not to be justified even by a father, I had determined as a dernier resort, to apply to you for succour for him, as the only means which could save him from utter ruin or imprisonment for life." Caroline shuddered and her cheek turned pale — she saw in a moment, that Mr. Morley was now venting his natural anger, against a son who had refused to rescue him from his diffi- culties, even at the sacrifice of her, and his best affections. " For me to speak of a child of my o^n, as I am bound to speak," said Morley, with tears in his eyes, " is most painful — but as we are all here in confidence, I feel it right to say, that his conduct in money^matters has been such, that if he is not released from the present debt, which unluckily happens to have eclated in the COUSIN WILLI A jr. 25T country, his confinement must be perpetual — and all tliis from his folly about Lady Anne Seward.'"* His/b/Zy, thought Caroline;— ah ! that's the sore point. " 1 can hardly call that folly,'" said Crosby ; " if, as it has been represented to me, he re- fused to conclude the treaty from a feeling of affection for another." " Another !"' said old Morley, " what other.? IMy dear Crosby, you have heard the story but very imperfectly — his failure did not depend upon himself — Lady Anne resented some in- sults inflicted upon her in the way of ridicule, raid in the way of declarations of his care- lessness of her^ and love for her money ; and when we went down to the marriage, Mr. Wil- liam and I vrere actually turned out of Bal- raith Castle, and not suffered to communicate with her ladyship at all." " What then," said Crosby, " his resignation was not voluntary .^" " Not it," replied Morley : " it was like the resignation of a minister — he was forced to go out, and retired only to save himself from the COUSIN WILLIAM. unpleasant operation of being driven out per force." " Were you with him. Sir?" said Caroline to Mr. Morley. " I was, my dear girl," said Morley ; *' and I have since heard, that he has, somewhere in this county, been defeated within the last four and twenty hours, in an attempt to elope with some girl, whose name I did not hear, but whose for- tune, small as it is, he offered to mortgage upon speculation to the man who has arrested him. — I confess," continued the agitated father, " that in the affair of Lady Anne, he having assured me in the most solemn manner, that he had no attachment for any other woman, I saw a great disposition to extricate me, by what, as far as personal attractions go, I could not but consider a great sacrifice on his part : but I am mortified, and half broken-hearted by the details of his de- liberate profligacy which rise up on every hand, and I determined, knowing your feeling towards him, and indeed that this had been more his home than his father's house, to endeavour, for all our sakes, to rescue him from disgrace and ruin by this advance, which I had not the COUSIN WILLIAM. S39 means of making, and which would get him out of the country and out of the way of worse ad- ventures/' The combination of circumstances, conveyed to the mind of Caroline in this impassioned detail, was of a nature most likely to excite all her strongest feelings. William's declaration to her of the impossibiUty he found in fulfilling his engagements to Lady Anne, on her account — his announcement to his father, of the ab- sence of any feehng of affection in his heart for anybody else, when he proposed for Lady Anne, and the last affair of pledging Caroline's fortune, mite as it was, and that only in per- spective, to rescue himself from an impending debt — all were to be weighed and considered. The flight of thought is instantaneous ; in the twinkling of an eye she revolved all these corroborating charges against him in her mind, she had heard all those charges from whom ? — from an enemy ? — from a rival ? — from one who hated, or envied him ? No ! — from his father, who spoke of all his faults and follies in a tone of sorrow rather than of anger — whose informa- tion, even up to the latest point, and the very last incident, appeared to be good and authen- 240 COUSIN WILLIAM. tic, and who now, canvassing his foibles as he did, had travelled post-haste from a distant part of the country, to the only spot whence he hoped to collect the, means of relief for his child. ^'* Caroline,**' said Crosby — " this story differs a little from your version." " Yes, Sir," said Caroline, and her eyes were downcast, and her cheek was pale. " I thought,'' said Morley — " and now that I know that dear girl is engaged to a worthy and excellent man, there is no great harm in saying it, that William was attached to her — I always anticipated the end of the affair — but liis expressions respecting her were so unequi- vocally those of perfect indifference, that " " What's the matter, Caroline ? ' exclaimed Mrs. Crosby, who saw Caroline's couiitenance change in an instant, and saw, too, that in one moment she would have fallen from her chair. " Oh save me, save me," cried Caroline. " save me from myself---from William —from all the world !" and she sank into the arms of Morley and her mother-in-law. *' Ring for help," said Mrs. Crosby. ^' Stay, stay," said Morley ; who, like his son, COUSIN WILLIAM. 241 was a man of the world — " the less servants see of such scenes as these the better: open the window, Mrs. Crosby — the air will do her good." " Air do her good !" said Mrs. Crosby, " isn't it hazardous ? Doctor Buchan says, moist air destroys the springs of the solids — disposes to agues — obstructs the perspiration.*" '' Open the window^ Mrs. Crosby," said Mr. Crosby, " Buchan recommends fresh air." " But not night air,'' replied his lady : " con- sider the dews." All this dialogue was carried on in a whisper, and before it was concluded, poor Caroline, who till within a few short weeks had never known what fainting was, but who now lived in that dreadful state of excitement in which she was hourly exposed to similar shocks, had recovered from her swoon, and begged to be allowed to go to her room. *' Stay, dear child,*" said Crosby, " if you are well enough to bear with us a few moments longer ; remember how deeply you interested me in behalf of your feelings, upon the subject of William Morley in the earlier part of this evening ; recollect the view you then told me VOL. I. M 242 COUSIN WILLIAM. you took of his conduct and character; con- sider what is at stake ; not only your happiness and comfort in life, hut the happiness and com- fort of one of the most honourable and excellent men breathing — you have heard what has been said — what are your feelings now ?'* " I cannot attempt to describe them,*' said Caroline, dreadfully agitated: " let me go, dearest father ; you know yet but little of my follies or my suiFerings. Mr. Morley, stay a short time after I leave you — I will write what I have not the courage to utter ; here I cannot stop — my errors have been great, my recanta- tion shall be complete." Saying which, entirely overpowered by her feehngs she rushed out of the drawing-room. ^^ I must go after her,'* said Mrs. Crosby, " and desire them to get four or five of Mr. Dobbs^s leeches out of water — she'll want them, I'm sure ; and I'll have a small blister got ready to put between her shoulders, poor girl." And up rose Mrs. Crosby to depart — nobody attempted to hinder her, because both Morley and Crosby thought, considering all things, her absence most desirable ; they debated the subject in all its bearings — they consulted COUSIN WILLIAM. 243 and advised, and had continued their deliber- ation for some time, when Davis entered the room, and delivered a note from Caroline to her father. Before the contents of this note are made known to the reader, it may be necessary to ob- serve that Mrs. Davis was specially controlled in all her proceedings by the active infliience of that yellow metal, in pursuit of which so much of the same material has latterly been wasted ; and when she found that her patron was no longer the aspirant of fortune and splendour as the husband of Lady Anne, and discovered (which she did even before she saw the bailiffs) that he was speculating upon the eight or ten thousand pounds of her young lady, which would have been expended in about eighteen months, in the purchase of gloves, shoe- strings, and other necessaries of life, she began to estimate his mental and personal qualities, in a very different manner from that in which she had been accustomed to regard them, when she thought he loved for love alone, and could afford to fee his advocate in the little court of Miss Caroline Crosby, with that liberahty which gentlemen of long pockets, and strong passions, M 2 244 COUSIN WILLIAM. are very apt to exhibit under similar circum- stances. To her, Caroline had, of course, referred all that had passed in the family cabinet — had opened her intention of shewing that sense of the injuries William had done her, which she really felt, and of betraying to his father the secret of his boasted pledge of a fortune which had it been at her disposal, six hours before, she would have given him uncondition- ally, with more delight than she ever had given anything in her life; but she was wounded — her pride was hurt — she had been deceived — betrayed — in short, she was angry, and under the influence oi that passion, took counsel from the minister, who began to think she could make more as Lady Terrington's maid, than as the soubrette of Mrs. Morley, whose husband appeared likely to be subject to the attacks of officers, not of the same cloth as himself. The result was the following note : -- " I had not courage, dearest father, to tell you how far I have been betrayed — how far I have erred ; William Morley has been here — was here arrested ; his object here was to induce COtrsIN WILLIAM. 245 me to believe the most solemn assurances of his undivided affection for me — an affection so powerful as to make him reject Lady Anne, even at the altar : into the particulars I would not now enter — I am satisfied of my own folly, and of his faults— the subject dies to-night as far as I am concerned — let it never be revived. Should Mr. Morley wish to meet his son, he will, I doubt not, find him, and with him a cor- roboration of my statement, at the gardener's lodge-gate. Should he do so, beg him to an- nounce my fixed determination never again to see my cousin, and to express my regret that his success over inexperience, however inglori- ous, has been so perfectly unequivocal. I am ready to fulfil my engagement with Sir Mark Terrington, and the study of my life will be to prove to my husband and the world, the triumph of honour and respectability, over pro- fligacy and libertinism. Once more I entreat that I may never be spoken to, on the subject again — I am conscious of my faults — I need no farther correction. " Your affectionate child, " Caroline.'' 246 COUSIN WILLIAM. Crosby, whose eyes the reader will remember, were unfortunately weak, commissioned Morley to read this document; when he had finished it, he laid it down on the table, and exclaimed, " Crosby, my son William is a scoundrel.*" Crosby, who liked hard words as little as he liked black doses, but who was occasionally ob- liged to take both, started at the strength of his friend's expression — " He has not behaved well,'' said Crosby, shaking his head. " He has behaved infamously," said Morley : " you know but little yet : however, Crosby, your kindness to him in to-day*s affair is most sincerely felt by me ; he must quit the country, if we can get him out of it ; for the present, I will walk down to the village, by the road poor Caroline points out — Poor child, how shaifiefuUy she has been treated." '' Thank God, she has recovered her senses," said Crosby ; " you see she says she is ready to marry Sir Mark." " And wisely, too," said Morley. ** I attribute her readiness," said Crosby, " less to wisdom than passion ; she is offended — her COUSIN WILLIAM. 247 pride is hurt — she has been deceived, and takes this mode of revenging the injury." " Never mind the motive," said Morley : " Sir Mark will make her an excellent hus- band, and she will become the respectable head of a family in the full enjoyment of every earthly comfort. But 'tis growing late — I'll leave you — a thousand thanks for the kind- ness which had anticipated my request — Ja re- quest I should not have made, had I con- ceived that ke^ who was principally concerned in it had already so singularly distinguished himself under your roof. — We may not meet soon again,'' continued he, " I must share the exile of my son, although not in his company ; and perhaps I shall have no opportunity of visiting Crosby before my departure from England. Direct some of your servants to point out the path which leads to the spot where this hopeful libertine is to be found, and I will take it; and so, heaven bless you, Crosby." " Morley, adieu," said Crosby. *' You know I am an invalid — always at home — come when- ever vou like, I am always delighted to see you. I trust that circumstances will turn up more favourably than you anticipate, and whenever 248 COUSIN WILLIAM. an idle hour gives you leisure to write, don't forget Jdm^ who, in the possession of your ex- emplary sister was the happiest of men." The friends parted-.- according to directions given him, Mr. Morley proceeded by the gar- dener's lodge from Crosby ; but when he reached the spot, no trace either of his son or of any car- riage was there. It was evident that the waver- ing Janus of the bed-chamber, in discarding Mr. Morley, had determined to save him from a meeting, which could not fail to be of the most disagreeable nature ; and I am the more strengthened in the suspicion I entertain thai she furnished him with intelligence of what was going on, by knowing that when Mr. Morley inquired at the cottage nearly opposite to the gate, whether the people there, had seen any carriage waiting, he was told that they had. That the two Morleys did not meet, perhaps was as well — that Caroline did not meet one of them was certainly best — when any of them meet again, the reader shall have the full benefit of the rencontre. COUSIN WILLIAM. 249 CHAPTER VIII. Now let thine eyes shine forth in their full lustre, Invest them with thy loveliest smiles. Den'ham. I HAVE endeavoured, whether successfully or not, I, of course, cannot determine, to impress upon the reader the deplorable state of unculti- vation in which Caroline's mind and character actually were. I do not mean uncultivation as regards intellect, because she was well read in the modern writers, and spoke two or three of the living languages quite fluently enough ; I refer to the total absence of all religious regu- lation and moral restraint, as far as feeling and passion were concerned. In the last measure which she thought fit to adopt, advantageous, right, and proper as her con- duct happened to be, and dignified as its tone ap- peared, it was neither dignified upon feeling, nor M 3 250 COUSIN WILLIAM. correct upon principle. Her decision was neither tlie result of sound reasoning, nor evidence of a sense of outraged delicacy, betrayed confidence, and repentant error ; it was the mere impulse of animal passion and girlish anger, for the gratifi- cation of which, she consented to commit her- self as implicated in the design of an elopement, merely for the sake of exposing her offending lover to the disagreeable consequence of an un- expected interview with his father. And it should be still farther observed, that her anger itself was not excited by those parts of William's conduct which in fact were the most objection- able. If what has hitherto transpired in the narra- tive do not seeip to exhibit in its proper colours the sad state of her mind, and the threatening instability of her character, perhaps the readi- ness which she evinced to fulfil her engagements with Sir Mark will effectually complete the catalogue of symptoms. What was to be ex- pected from such an union ? We have heard the poor girl speak her sentiments on the sub- ject to her step-mother, and talk of esteem and affection, without violent love for her future husband. Such marriages may he happy, but I COUSIN WILLIAM. 25 t fear seldom are ; yet now we find her one step farther advanced — we find her (acting under the counsel of a vulgar menial,) again admitting the favoured lover to her presence, preparing to unite her destiny for ever with his, and in the twinkling of an eye, under the same odious con- troul, hear her discarding the idol of her heart to satisfy her irritated feehngs, and agreeing to unite herself to another, to gratify her vindictive ones. Her father, who thought that his daughter had been perfectly well educated, and who cer- tainly could not be expected to penetrate into the secrets of her cabinet, was as little likely to attribute to their right motives the actions of his child, as washer step-mother, towards whom, instinct in early life had implanted in her heart the coldest reserve, and with whom, in latter days, she had had no feeling, no sentiment in common. Crosby, knowing that William was ruined, felt that to break off such an alliance as that with Sir Mark for his sake would be the height of madness ; and setthng in his own mind that Caroline felt much as he himself did upon the subject, attributed her readiness to " fulfil her engagement" to worldly prudence, 252 COUSIN WILLIAM. and her avowal of William's intended elope- ment to a proper resolution to put an end to his persecutions; and so far from seeking for causes, or chiding her for what was past, he re- ceived her at breakfast* with the most cordial affection, and kissed her pale cheek with the greatest kindness. It did not appear probable that any farther interruption was to be apprehended from Wil- liam Morley ; for Davis, whose views had, as I have before said, been first somewhat changed bv the baihff-scene and the corroborating visit of his father in search of pecuniary assistance, and were now entirely altered by the details into which she found the old gentleman had entered, touching the real state of the affair at Balraith, had, on the preceding evening, when she saved him the unpleasant interview with his parent (which she did purely to convince him of her unshaken regard for his interests,) dis- played with all the fluency with which her forced education had gifted alike her tongue and her pen, the ruinous imprudence of a mar- riage with her young lady, under all the exist- ing circumstances ; she distinctly told him that Miss Crosby had solemnly pledged herself to COUSIN WILLIAM. 255 fulfil her engagement with Sir Mark, and im- plored him, as he regarded her young lady's peace of mind, not farther to disturb or agitate her, by a renewal of his assiduities ; adding that, which delicacy will not allow me to write, but which WiUiam Morley could not fail to construe into an implied promise of assistance whenever he might (armed as he was, with the conscious- ness of Caroline's love for him) make his ad- vances at some future period in the character of Lad^ Terringtons admirer. Such were the workings of this Machiavel of a maid, who being convinced that she had now got all she could, from Morley in his present situation, suddenly turned advocate in the cause of Sir Mark, who had not neglected to pay her those delicate attentions which make their way at once to the heart and the pocket ; and now, faithless even to her second trust, held out hopes to the doubting lover, the realization of which, could only be ensured by the degra- dation of her mistress and the dishonour of her mistress's husband. With the hour of noon, as usual, came Sir Mark Terrington to Crosby Hall. He was re- ceived by the old gentleman with more than ordinary warmth— by the young lady with nearly ^4« COUSIN WJLLIAM. the same degree of caloric as usual ; but as the forenoon wore away he appeared to her more tiresome than he commonly was, and she lin- gered on through the day full of that feverish restlessness — that thirst and languor — that aching nervousness — that constant apprehension, varied by sudden fits and starts of violent alarm which wholly abstract the mind from surround- ing objects, and make even the effort of existing laborious. The following day was fixed for a visit to Stamfordleigh, upon which occasion Sir Mark was to present the Crosbys to his aunt, Lady Shillito, and her son and daughter, who were to grace the coming nuptials with their pre- sence. Lady Shillito was one of those married women, whose importance completely eclipses not only the dominion of their husbands, but even nullifies their existence. As for Sir Fer- dinand Shillito, nobody ever heard of him. Lady Shillito gave the pleasantest parties in London— Lady Shillito's house in the country was perfection — Lady Shillito had the most beautiful collection of pictures imaginable — Lady Shillito drove the best horses, and pa- raded the smartest carriages — ^but as for Sir COUSIN WILLIAM. ^55 Ferdinand, his name was never mentioned ; and even upon the present occasion, when Sir Mark announced his desire of introducing his rela- tions to the Crosbys, he merely said that Lady Shillito and her family were coming to him We shall see them when we get to the Hall, the visit being sufficiently eventful to render it worth our while to join the party. During the whole of the fitful existence of the preceding day, every time the door opened, every time that the gruff barking of Lion in the stable-yard seemed to announce an arrival, poor Caroline's colour fled, and her heart palpi- tated — she feared that William had been mis- represented — began to think the story of his defeat at Balraith and his subsequent misadven- tures had been gotten up on purpose to induce her to abandon him — and began to apprehend that he^ irritated by the calumnies which had been circulated concerning him, and of which she had declared her belief, would perhaps burst in upon them at Crosby, and by some rash act involve himself and her, in difficulties and dan- gers, the extent of which, was hardly calcu- lable ; but as the day wore on, and dinner was announced, she began to muster courage ; and 256 COUSIN WILLIAM. having, while dressing, received positive assur- ance from Davis that should Captain Mor- ley meditate a descent upon the enemy, she would use her influence to prevent his carrying his design into execution, she felt re-assured, and even smiled and joked upon passing occur- rences, much to the joy of Sir Mark, who began to observe that he was " getting into favour,'' and to the delight^ of old Crosby, whose happi- ness was derived from the evident determination of Caroline to make him believe so. Yet even in this state of affairs^, (such is the never-fading power of once treasured love,) Caro- line felt almost disappointed, when she retired for the night, that Davis had no news to give her of Morley ; she felt piqued that her reso- lute determination to banish him eternally from her thoughts and presence had not produced a remonstrance, or at least a parting letter ; for she did not yet know the full extent of his de- signs, the real character of his proceedings, or the nature of his actual pursuits at the moment. Another day dawned upon the tearful eyes of his victim, and with the noon came another visit from Sir Mark to entreat them not to be late at Stamfordleigh ; and again in due course the COUSIN WILLIAM. 257 luncheon was put down, the baronet departed, and the family party prepared to dress, Mrs. Crosby alone excepted, who having suffered in the early part of the day from a pain in her side, had found it necessary to throw in a certain quantity of calomel,' succeeded by medicines of a nature which inhibited her quitting Crosby ; an event which, as she felt her presence by no means essential to the carrying on of the plot, she regretted less than she would have done had Sir Mark Terrington been a particularly agreeable person, or the party promised to be uncommonly pleasant. To say truth, Caroline did not much regret this defection. She felt that as things had now gone so far, and she was actually to be ex- hibited to the connections of her future huband, she might as well appear to advantage ; and certain it is, and she was conscious of the fact in her own case, that the presence of a person whose affections we more than doubt, and whose situation necessarily entitles them to the power of controul, paralyses the feelings and throws a restraint over our conversation and conduct, which is as infectious as gaping. Caroline's real character and disposition were 258 COUSIN WILLIAM. gay and mirthful ; and although continually agitated and worked upon by various feelings and passions, it so happened that the appa- rent coldness of Morley upon a point where she had threatened her deepest anger if he had seemed warm, had piqued her into a feverish fit of liveliness, and a resolution to prepossess her new connections with affection for her, and ensure a smiling reception in the house of Ter- rington. This resolve seemed to give fresh animation to her beautiful countenance; extraordinary care had been bestowed by Davis in the dis- position of her clustering curls of raven black. Her sylph-like figure was set off to its best advantage, and her bright eyes sparkled with tlie fire of passion ; not that passion which, pure and holy as it is, should have excited her — not that unmixed desire to please her future husband — no — even in this instance, beauti- ful as were the results of the labour of her toilette, and gratifying to Sir Mark as was the effect of her charms thus joyously enlightened, the motive and the cause were 7iot what they ought to have been — it was a wild delirium — a desire to be worldly — to seem what she was not COUSIN WILLIAM. 259 — to make friends, to please and to be popular — these were the objects of her aim, wherein, alas ! the heart had but a very small participa- tion. Such, however, was the success of her maiden effort, that her mother-in-law actually started at her appearance when she entered the room to take leave, and her father gazed with parental pleasure upon the blooming beauties of his lovely daughter. How many thousand smiling faces greet us — how many thousand sparkling eyes meet ours in the gay and brilliant circles of this world, in which the real feelings of the heart are as ill developed as those of Caroline. Her sensations were hardly definable even to herself, and she stepped into the carriage which was to con- vey her father and herself to Stamfordleigh, with the thirst for conquest strong in her mind. When they arrived, Sir Mark received them in the library ; even he was struck with the warmth and gaiety of Caroline's manner as she entered. He presented to her notice his friend, Mr. Allsford, with whom he was conversing when they came in. She was struck with the appearance of her new acquaintance upon 260 COUSIN WILLIAM. ^ his introduction. He was handsome, elegant, and more than half a dandy — his manner bespoke a constant association with the better moiety of the world ; and the ease and graceful- ness with which he at once fell into conversation with her, quite startled and surprised the novice, who began to think that however charming her cousin William w^s, much of her admiration had arisen from ignorance of society, and that other beaux could talk nearly as well, and look almost as handsome. Who Mr. Allsford was, Caroline did not exactly know ; nor could she comprehend why, as soon as Lady Shillito and her daughter made their appearance, her father proceeded to a conference in a distant corner of the apartment with her new and graceful friend. Lady Shillito was, of course, charmed to make Caroline's acquaintance ; and Juliana Shil- lito, who was blue and blooming, bounded to the lovely rustic with all the enthusiasm she possessed, or affected to possess, delighted, as she said, to find anything so beautiful and natural in this world of sophistication. The lady and her daughter were shortly fol- lowed into the room by Colonel Shillito, of the Guards, who in his turn superseded in Caro- COUSIN WFLLIAM. 261 line's wonder and admiration the graceful Mr. Allsford. He was extremely handsome, his figure fine and commanding, and there was an air of conscious superiority about him, which constantly enforced notice and attracted atten- tion. " George,'' said Lady Shillito, addressing herself to him as he approached, " let me pre- sent you to my dear Miss Crosby." Caroline's eyes, which a moment before had been dazzled by the appearance of her new connection, were instantly cast down, and she felt the blood mount into her cheeks, while with the most gracious display of a great white set of teeth, the gallant warrior bowed and smiled his happiness at the introduction. '' Isn't she quite lovely, George .?" said Juliana to her brother, just loud enough for Caroline to hear. " Perfect," replied the Colonel, hi an equally audible tone ; and proceeding to Terrington, who was at the other end of the room in conversation with Allsford and Crosby, un- derwent the operation of introduction to the latter, a ceremony performed upon the pre- sent occasion with all due solemnity for 262 COUSIN WILLIAM. two reasons ; first, because Sir Mark was anxious to make his relations properly known to the Crosbys; and, secondly, because Sir Mark always persisted in the system of introducing people to each other by name, which he said (and not very foolishly,) he had often observed prevented any remarks being made by one person in com- pany which might be particularly disagreeable to another. Caroline during all these proceedings felt in- wardly pleased at perceiving the sensation she had so evidently created ; nor was the half audible eulogy of Colonel Shillito more gratify- ing to her personal vanity than the fixed look of admiration with which Mr. Allsford'*s eyes followed her as she moved round the circle. At this juncture a small neat Men poudre old gentleman entered the drawing-room, as if afraid of being ordered out of it ; and having carefully shut the door advanced towards the further end of the room, diagonally approaching the group at the opposite side by a sort of echellon move- ment. He looked extremely pale, extremely nice, and extremely cool, and rubbed a pair of very thin parchment-looking hands together to give himself an air of ease and comfort. No- COUSIN WILLIAM. 2G3 body, however, appeared to take the smallest notice of him, and he " fetched up'' at a small table upon which stood a vase of flowers, with a minute examination of one of which, he ap- peared to be sedulously employing himself, rub- bing its leaves, and smelling his fingers, and then peeping at its stamina and pistils with all the airs of a botanist : he, not knowing a jon- quil from a geranium, and only having recourse to this series of nugatory experiments in order to wile away time till he was called for, or till he mustered up courage to join the party without a summons. " Who is that old gentleman ?" said Caroline to her new friend Juliana. " Oh V said Juliana, looking first through her glass, in order to secure to herself the cha- racter of a wise child, " it's only papa." " Sir Ferdinand,"" said Lady Shillito in a tone of thundering authority, " when you have done twiddling those flowers about, I have somebody lo present you to." " I am — at your commands, my love," said the startled baronet, advancing. " This is Miss Crosby," said her ladyship. 264 COUSIN WILLIAM. " I'm sure," said Sir Ferdinand, " I — T — have— that is, I am -'" " Oh, don't for mercy's sake try to make a speech, papa,'' said Jtihana ; *' Miss Crosby knows what you mean, and if she does not I'U explain ;" then, turning to the astonished Caro- line (who was half petrified at what appeared to her the undutiful interruption to Sir Ferdinand) Juliana added, " papa is such a dreadful bore when he begins to talk, you can't think." What to say upon so delicate a point Caro- line was perfectly at a loss^ — she was conscious that she looked awkward. However, Sir Ferdi- nand had made his escape towards the men at the other end of the room, and she felt propor- tionably relieved. '' You don't know my Sir Ferdinand, Miss Crosby," said Lady Shillito ; " he seldom goes about with us, but only in the country one didn't know what to do — we couldn't well leave him behind." Caroline was again puzzled as to the sort of remark she ought to make upon this extraor- dinary apology of her ladyship for having intrq^ duced her husband into society. COUSIN WILLIAM. 265 *' Oh, and when he begins to tell stories," said Juliana, " it really is terrible ; my brother George tries to prepare everybody to put a stop to it, but nothing will do ; and the most dreadful part of the thing is, that papa is anxious to give his friends anecdotes, chiefly of himself, but of which when he begins, he is sure to forget every part of the slightest importance. I tell you this, my dear Miss Crosby, for if you were not put on your guard, I'm sure you would die with laughing." Caroline's astonishment at the mode in which the worthy baronet was put down and shewn up by his wife and daughter was increasing rapidly, when the Colonel advanced from the conversing group, looking the picture of despair. '* What's the matter, George?" said Lady Shillito. " Only my father," said the Colonel, " before dinner, too— telling Mr. Crosby, after four minutes acquaintance, the history of the Bristol mail and the turkey-cock — forgetting the name of the coach and the bird — I " " Dinner is on the table," said a voice, thrice welcome to the listeners to Sir Ferdinand Shil- VOL. 1. N Z66 COUSIN WILLIAM. lito. Sir Mark proceeded to lead Lady Shilllto, Sir Ferdinand was advancing towards Miss Crosby; Allsford's eyes were stedfastly fixed upon her ; but the Colonel, making a forced march, secured the prize. Allsford became the supporter of Miss Shillito, and Sir Ferdinand having given place to an anonymous young gen- tleman whom nobody seemed to know ; to whom nobody spoke, and who spoke to nobody, found his way to the dinner-room in the rear of the whole procession, whistling an Italian air, to shew how happy he was. The party were not seated when the baronet aitived, but the moment he made his appearance those who knew him best, huddled close, as if to form an impenetrable phalanx through which he could not pierce ; but Sir Mark, who was too punctilious a person in himself, and thought too much of a baronetcy to see the rank de- graded in another, called Sir Ferdinand up to the place next Carolinfe, who sat on his left hand. Lady Shillito being placed on the right. Allsford performed croupier, having on his jside Miss Shillito, Mr. Crosby being seated be- tween her and her mother, and the Colonel COUSIN WILLIAM. 267 posted next to the pale anonymous dummy, wliom he had carefully interposed between him- self and his much injured parent. The soup in progress — the salmon in course of distiibution— poor Crosby, though alone, and in- dependent, dared not to venture upon either — but hungry as he was, in consequence of the drive to Stamfordleigh and the absence of medicine, he cast a wistful look to the entrees, in hopes that when uncovered something might appear with which he could safely gratify his appetite. In time, the contents were revealed. Crosby yet had tasted nothing. " Mr. Crosby,"' said the Colonel, " you eat nothing ; shall I send you some of this frican- deau ?" '* I beg your pardon. Major, it is pique, is it not ?" said Crosby. «c It is ^' " None, I thank you," said Crosby. " Let me send you some of this,'^ said Sir Ferdinand. ** Those are mushrooms, I think," said Crosby. " They are," said Sir Ferdinand. N 2 COUSIN WILLIAM. " None, I thank you." " Here is a voi-au-vent, Sir," said Allsford, pointing to another side dish. " No, I thank y(J^.i — garUck,"" said Mr. Crosby, shaking his head, " no, no."" " A bechamelle of veal,*" said Sir Mark. " None, I thank you, I am afraid " " Here, Sir,*" gaid Allsford, "is as fine a haunch of venison as I ever saw." " Not a morsel, thank you," said Crosby. " I am afraid I shall not be able to stay in the room with it — so very powerful." And true enough were his anticipations. Un- used to the varied savours of a decently dressed dinner, and interdicted for years by the tender care of his wife from the taste of venison espe- cially, the invalid was literally unable to, remain at his post, and retired to the drawing-room amidst the lamentations of the party, and the real regrets of his child, who, unlike the graceful, gay, and animated Juliana Shillito, followed her parent to his exile, whence she did not return until she had seen him snugly esta- blished with a plate of dry toast and some milk and water COUSIN WILLIAM. 269 " How kind you are, Miss Crosby," said Lady Shillito to her, when she re-appeared at table — " how is your papa ?" " He is quite well, thank you," said Caro- line; '* but I am sure he would have been quite ill if he had remained here." " Well, do you know, Miss -^Crosby," said Sir Ferdinand, " I'll tell you a very curious thing — 1 knew a gentleman once whose stomach was so delicate, that he could not bear the smell of dinner at all — I recollect — it must be about two and twenty years ago 1 think — perhaps more — I don't exactly remember how long — being dov/n at — where the deuce was it? — ^ah! — no matter — I know it was somewhere by the sea — I was "" At this period the Colonel exchanged looks with Juliana, who had previously telegraphed her mother, and they settled themselves with a general look of despondency to hear a new evi- dence of the paternal retentiveness. " And he,'' continued Sir Ferdinand, " who was either in the army or the navy, I really forget which, but it don't much matter, used to tell me, that whenever he was attacked in that way, he found the greatest relief from some- 270 COUSIN WILLIAM. thing which he used to take out of a tea-cup ; but what it was I don't just now remember." " Ah !" sighed the Colonel, taking snufF gracefully, in a self-gratulatory tone that the storm had passed for the moment, and that the untold story was ended. , " I have often observed," said Sir Mark, having listened to Sir Ferdinana with the pro- foundest solemnity, '' that a room smells very pow^erfuUy of meat even after the dinner is over ; and it is needless to add, that the smell is more perceptible if one comes fresh into the room from the air." The Colonel's look at his sister after this ob- servation partook very much of the character of the last. " Will you," said the Colonel, who thought his look had been discovered, bowing across the table to the anonymous dummy who sat next his sister, " do me the honour to take wine ?" The dummy bowed. '' What shall it be— Hock— Grave ?" The dummy bowed again, and by the motion of his lips seemed to say hock, although he looked the other. COUSIN WILLIAM. S71 *' Have you seen the young Roscius, Miss Crosby," said Lady Shillito. " No, I have not," said Caroline : " we have not been to London this year." '^ He is a wonderful boy," said her ladyship. '* Oh ! a boy — he is not a boy, he is a divine creature," exclaimed Juliana ; " it is absolute inspiration, there never was anything so perfect in nature." " He'll fall off as he grows up," said the Colonel, taking more snuff. " I would bet the long odds that by the time he is five and thirty, he wont be more followed than Waddy." "I'll tell you a very curious thing," said Sir Ferdinand. A stifled groan proceeded from the whole family of the Shiilitos. — " I went one night last season — I don't recollect to which house — that don't matter — and Master Betty — Betty don't you call him ? — yes — was acting — I can't sajr I remember what the character was, but I recollect perfectly that I sat next a man of superior talent, a man who the moment his name is mentioned will be ad- mitted as a first-rate authority, and he made an observation upon young Betty's acting, which appeared to me admirable." STiS COUSIN WILLIAM. "I beg your pardon, Sir Ferdinand," said Sir Mark, " who is the gentleman ?" " Why for the life of me I can't hit his name just at this minute," said Sir Ferdinand ; "but I recollect he wore a great coat, and I think powder in his hair, not that I am quite certain of that : however, what he said about Betty had more real good sense in it than anything I have ever heard upon the subject.'* " What was it. Sir ?" said the Colonel, look- ing aside at Juliana. " By George," said Sir Ferdinand, '^ that's tlie very thing I am trying to recal to my mind ; but I can't, if you'd give me the universe just now " " Oh, nonsense, my dear," said Lady Shil- lito : " never mind, it don't signify I'm sure ; well, but, Miss Crosby, he is so graceful and so handsome " " — — and so full of passion and feeling," exclaimed Miss Juliana ; " you have seen him, Mr. Allsford?" " I have," said Allsford, " and agree to a certain extent with you, but ^" <' Oh !" said the Colonel, " you must not discuss the point with Juliana, she is absolute and arbitrary, and — — " COUSIN WILLIAM. 27S '* Pray, Sir Mark," said Sir Ferdinand, somewhat tired of the subject of plays and players — " have you heard of the wild and ridiculous scheme talked of by some projector, of hghting the streets with smoke laid on, in pipes like water ?" " I have, indeed. Sir," said Sir Mark, " and enjoyed a great laugh at the notion." ** Oh !" said Juliana, who being bluish, de- termined when anything like satire or ridicule was afloat, to be foremost of the pack, " but that's nothing to the still greater nonsense they talk about making boats go, by boiling hot water in them. How I should like to see a party embarked in one of those tea-kettles for Margate, or Richmond, or any of those places." " It is wonderful," said Sir Ferdinand, *' how foolishly projectors build their castles in the air — lights from smoke — steam for sails. — I'll tell you a very curious thing, Sir Mark.'X This was too much — Lady Shillito exhibited one of those signs of female freemasonry, which indicate the desire of retiring ; in which, novice as she was, Caroline had already been initiated, and the ladies were in an instant prepared to start. The looks which the Colonel and Miss Shil- N 3 274} COUSIN WILLIAM. lito exchanged, were not lost upon Miss Crosby ; she saw with astonishment, not unmixed with disgust, the evident disrespect and contempt with which, not only her ladyship, but the whole of her family treated the story-telling baronet ; and began to wonder, like her observant lover, at the ways of the world in which she was destined to move. Her feelings, however, had not caught the infection, and when she reached the draw- ing-room, and found that Mr. Crosby had be- come so unwell that he had gone home, leaving word that the carriage, with Miss Crosby's maid, should return for her at ten, she became restless and unhappy ; a symptom, which, however con- firmatory of affection for her parent, was equally decisive as to the non-existence of any very par- ticular affection for her intended husband — in- deed, the proceedings of the present da^ pro- duced two striking results in the mind of the novice — the one, the conviction that Sir Mark was the veriest simpleton (with all his goodness) that ever existed — and the other, that her cousin William was not so wonderful a creature as she had been accustomed to consider him — the grace and elegance of the Colonel dazzled her— the de- voted attention of Mr. AUsford interested her; so COUSIN WILLIAM. 275 that although onegreat goodhad been achieved by the deterioration of Morley in her estimation, a corresponding evil had been created by the still further degradation in her opinion of the in- tended partner of her fate and fortune. When the ladies retired, the men fell na- turally and imperceptibly into political discus- sion; for Sir Ferdinand, who had been in parliament for many years, was, out of the House of Commons, a great orator and a fine theore- tical politician ; he was a whig, and now and then was indulged with the hospitaHties of Saint Anne's Hill, where he culled store of anecdotes, which he retailed after his usual fashion, spoil- ing the points of the narrative, losing sight of the facts, and forgetting the names of the parties concerned ; but he talked whiggery in Ids w^ay, and anticipated vast successes in the ensuing parliamentary campaign ; and having expressed his entire disbelief in the power of steam, the advantages of gas, and the safety of iron bridges, warmed with his subject, he offered a con- siderable bet, that the minister would be in a minority the first day of the next session. " Sir Mark,'"* said Sir Ferdinand, " I don't speak my own sentiments only — I speak the feel- ^76 COUSIN WILLIAM. ings of greater persons— much greater persons — I have no hesitation in saying, that nothing can save us, but the removal of Mr. Pitt. His tenacity, his adherence to place, will be the ruin of the country. A friend of mine — I forget at the moment who— it don't matter, gave me five distinct reasons for this assertion — I confess I don't recollect them at the moment ; but this I know, that while one set of men usurp the ad- ministration of aiFairs and retain it against the will of the people, the people cannot j udge of the merits of opposition ; and all / ask of the most ardent aclriirer of Mr. Pitt, is to let the whigs hold office for one twelvemonth : only concede that — let them be tried for that period, and I vt^ill for- feit my head, if the nation ever endure a tory ministry again." Nobody attempted to reply — so Sir Ferdi- nand continued — " Look at Buonaparte, Sir," said the baronet, (for even he remembered Ms name,) " what is to stop the career of that stupendous man ?— has he not got hold of — I forget the names of the places — Hanover is one I know — Spain and Portugal, too, and many more — who will ever relieve those countries.'* Who will stop the COUSIN WILLIAM. 277 power of Buonaparte? — A tory ministry ? — Ridi- culous ! — they might as well think of restoring the Bourbons, Sir — a thing which T am free to say never can, and never will happen. — Here we are in 1 804 — I will stake my existence, that in ten years from this time, we have one of the branches of the house of Napoleon on the Eng- lish throne, unless the ministry is changed."" " Don't do the army so much injustice, Sir,^' said Colonel Shillito to his father, " as to fancy that quite so easy a proceeding." " Army ! pshaw," said the baronet. " What can the army do — it is a very fine profession, and you wear very fine coats, and the men, indi- vidually, are very fine fellows ; but as to the English army — chaff— before the wind — stuff! Couldn't stand before the discipline of the French — the name of Buonaparte is a host in itself — no — no -there is a man — I mention no names — but there is a man who would be brought forward if my friends were to get into office ; he might command an army, and would, I have no difficulty in saying, be put at the head of the first enterprize we undertook, if Pitt and his people were out — his name begins with W — of course we are tiled — I am not at liberty to say more." ^78 COUSIN WILLIAM. '' You mean, perhaps. Sir Arthur Wellesley, Sir," said Allsford, " who has been so success- ful in India?" " Wellesley !" said the whig baronet, with an expression of contempt. — " What ! that Cap- tain of Sepoys, Sir, that cuts down the poor natives because they want to keep their own ? No — no — that's a gentleman who may do very well amongst the Whangos and Quangos ; but I should like to see him on the Continent of Europe with his fine army, face to face to Buonaparte — not that such an. event I hope will ever occur, even in the midst of tory madness — they might as well think, Sir, of taking the tall gentlemen in jack-boots and pig-tails out of the sentry boxes at Whitehall, and send them to fight on the Continent-^the Life Guards on the Continent I Wellesley— no — no — of coufse I cannot violate a confidence, but Wellesley is not the only person whose name begins with W. — You'll see — some day or other. — I'll tell you a very curious thing, Sir Mark," said the ani- mated baronet, who, in the absence of his wife, was outrageously loquacious. " No more wine for me. Sir Mark," said George, bowing to the master of the house, who was passing round the bottles. •COUSIN WILLIAM. 279 Allsford looked the negative, and both the gentlemen pushed their chairs from the table. " I'll tell you a very curious thing, Sir Mark,'' said Sir Ferdinand again ; but Sir Mark, whose heart was full of love and anxiety about Caroline, and who was, therefore, anx- ious to adjourn, followed the example of the beaux, and prepared to rise. Sir Ferdinand was staggered at this general defection, but not put out ; and having looked around for an audience, at length cast his eye upon the anony- mous dummy opposite, and fixing him for the moment, proceeded. " I'll tell you a very curious thing, Sir — I — " This was too much for the Colonel, who, de- termined that his respectable parent should not bestow any of his tediousness upon the pale supernumerary over the way, reminded him, that Sir Mark w^as peculiarly situated, and that it was both treason and sacrilege to keep him away from the ruler of his destiny and the idol of his devotion. " Hey !" said Sir Ferdinand—" What d'ye mean, George ?" " Miss Crosby is in the drawing-room, Sir," said George. 280 COUSIN WILLIAM. ^' Oh ! ah, I see," said the baronet—" I quite forgot that — upon my word. Sir Mark, I beg your pardon — I remember — curious enough - — hearing a story of a fdend of mine, I don't exactly recollect his name — ^who was — I think — I'm sure I forget now, exactly how it was ; but he was either going to a race, or going to be married, or something — and something occurred, either to disappoint him, or — upon my life, I cannot precisely recal which it was— however I recollect that some other gentleman came, and-- " " Well, my dear father," said George, " tell us the rest of the history as we cross the hall." " Well,'' said Sir Ferdinand, " so I will— and so — " And so he did— -at least as much as he ever told of any story — and these fragments lasted until they reached the apartment where the ladies were anxiously waiting to receive the beaux. Caroline's heart beat as the men approached, she felt conscious, not only that there was some- thing peculiar in AUsford's manner towards her, but was not displeased with the look which she saw every now and then fixed upon her counte- COUSIN WILLIAM. 281 nance ; Sir Mark observed nothing of this, but George Shillito did, and made memoranda in his mind of the whole proceeding. CaroUne, to whom her lover appeared a» much devoted as he felt he could be, without attracting notice, went through the evening most nervously, until the carriage was announced; when she was surprised almost to fainting by AUsford's approaching her, as she sat on a sofa, (after having spoken to Sir Mark evidently about her,) and seating himself beside her. She looked at him with something like wonder, and in evident confusion. " Miss Crosby,'' said he, in an under tone, — " at what hour to-morrow shall you be most at leisure .?" '' To-morrow !" said Caroline—" I " " Yes," said Allsford, " I must trespass on you for half an hour's conversation if you will allow me." " Me !" said Caroline, looking at him with amazement. " You have no objection to to-morrow, have you .^" said Allsford. "Not more than to any other day," said Caroline. 283 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Then to-morrow let it be, if you please," said AUsford, who concluded th.it Caroline knew him, and the reason of his being at Stamford- leigh — " it is wrong to delay what can be done soon." " But," said Caroline, hesitating, " does Sir Mark come with you ?" "No, we don't want him," said Allsford, somewhat gaily — " I think we can do without him -—indeed, the whole affair is in my hands now, and I have apprized Mr. Crosby of my inten- tion of paying you this visit— in fact, it will be more delicate that Sir Mark should not spoil our tete a tete, as I will explain when I see you alone.' " My father is aware of your visit?" said Caroline. '' Oh, decidedly," said Allsford, smiling. " Then,^ when may I expect you ?" " Will two o'clock suit you ?" said Allsford. " Perfectly," replied Caroline — who was at that particular moment more bewildered than she ever had been in her life : the whole affair was to her perfectly inexplicable — a thousand strange ideas filled her imagination : the interest expressed throughout the day in Allsford's COUSIN WILLIAM. ^S looks — his confusion when addressing her — the extraordinary object of his apphcation to her — a visit, with the concurrence of Sir Mark, under the sanction of her father !— she hardly knew what she was to expect — she hardly knew what she was actually doing — and she was delighted when she found herself with Davis in the car- riage, on her way home. The separation from the Shillitos was most warm and cordial ; the most lavish expressions of admiration w ere uttered and echoed by the whole family; and Sir Ferdinand, who was pressingly anxious to tell her only just one curious thing, as she was quitting the room, was cut short by his loving wife, who reminded him of the air, and the door, and the cold, and the heat, and fifty things best calculated in her mind to put an end to his. narrative. It seemed, however, settled, that the Shillitos were to remain at Stamfordleigh till the cele- bration of the nuptials, and that Juliana was to officiate as bridesmaid upon the occasion. George, the Colonel, however, was not able to remain so long, for some very cogent reason, which did not escape him, and his departure was mightily regretted by Juliana, who felt that 284 COUSIN WILLIAM. nobody she met, understojd her and her ways, and likings and dishkings, half so well as her gay and accomplished brother. Carolme closed her ey^s as the carriage drove through the grounds homeward ; — her thoughts had been diverted into new channels — new ex- citements had presented themselves — new ideas had been engendered. She spake little to Davis, for she was occupied in recalling to her recol- lection the events of the evening; her mind was unsettled, she began to feel her own con- sequence, and a consciousness of the sensation slie was likely to create hereafter in the world — in short, she had been praised, and flattered, and admired, and had made an effect— and she liked it — she felt assured that she should enjoy the eclat of society. She looked back to Morley without regret at his defection — she looked for- ward to the world without an expectation of loving her husband — nay, she clung to a hope undefinable even to herself, connected with Allsford's visit; for in the midst of all this burst of worldliness upon her, Allsford was not an object of entire indifference. In the tacit consideration of all these matters, Cetroline, much to Davis's surprise, occupied COUSIN WILLIAM. 2^ herself till Lion's well-known barkincr announced o their arrival at Crosby. The master and mis- tress of the mansion had retired to their apart- ments — the latter having taken twelve ounces of blood from the former immediately on his return from Stamfordleigh, administering at the same time such gentle medicines as she thought would suit Jiis constitution, having previously dosed herself with others more consonant with her own. Caroline, how'ever, saw them, and found her father considerably worse than he was when he left the dinner table ; the natural consequence of the domestic discipline he had undergone, at the hands of his loving spouse. Having re- ceived his blessing, and the kind wishes of her step-mother, the agitated girl betook herself to her pillow^, which was not doomed that night to witness her rosy slumbers. ^6 COUSIN WILLIAM. CHAPTER IX. I know not how to tell thee. Shame rises in my face, and interrupts The story of my tongue ! " Otway. The reader may, perhaps, wonder that Wil- liam Morley should have so long remained in the shade. Events had occurred so completely to change all his plans, that his personal ob- scurity keeping pace merely with that of his designs, will presently appear nothing mar- vellous. We left him on the high-road to prison. We have, however, ascertained that he recovered his freedom ; and we are also aware that he pro- posed to turn his emancipation to a good ac- count, by exerting his influence and activity in COUSIN WILLIAM, 287 carrying off poor Caroline to share his fortunes ; a measure, which, considering the small amount he was able to bring into the common stock, appeared more likely to benefit himself than his fair partner in the matrimonial speculation — we also saw how his schemes were frustrated by the development of his deceptions; and there, I believe, we lost sight of him. When his father met him, after his visit to Crosby, and had related what had passed there, and given him a faithful description of the scene, as it had occurred, and the resolution at which Caroline had arrived, William felt assured of the fidelity of Davis, which for a moment he had doubted, and saw in her warning not to appear on the evening in question, nothing but prudence and kindness, fully justified by the state of affairs ; — the game was clearly up in titat quarter, and William, although at liberty for the time being, was, as well as his father, in a state of the most nervous anxiety for the future. He had not a shilling in the world; for although he might exchange, he could not sell his com- mission ; and the drop down into the line, per- haps into a newly raised regiment, to become 288 COUSIN WILLIAM. its junior subaltern, to do regimental duty, be- saslied and belted in some pestilential climate, exiled from society, stung by musquitos, sub- ject to the insidious a-ttacks of snakes, to be daily moistened by fogs, and afterwards dried in a scorching sun, doomed to mess-room port and sherry in small quantities, and the twaddle of goths in gaiters — such anticipations, to such a very fine gendeman as Morley, were horrible. He thought of retiring to Scotland, and turning author ; but the trade seemed a bad one — the republic of letters was not yet established in the modern Athens ; and, except for a wife, Morley felt disinclined to turn either his thoughts or his steps northward. Could he take orders, and get on in the church, by changing, unlike the lobster, from red to black ? At die bar (unless of the Old Bailey,) he appeared to have but little chance, since, without five or six years feeding, he must neither presume to defend bad causes, nor beat down good ones. What then could he do ? — he had neither money nor expec- tations — but he w^as active, plausible, and agree- able, and it at last struck him that he would establish a Country Bank — nay, I beheve he had even gone so far, as to bespeak, upon COUSIN WILLIAM. 289 credit, a mahogany railed desk, a large ledger and day-book, two high stools, a rumfordized stove, a box of wafers, half a hundred pens, a pint bottle of ink, two rulers, a pound of seal- ing wax, and a copper-plate for his notes, when a circumstance occurred, which drove his ideas into a new channel, and, as it turned out, de- cided his destiny in a different way. It may be remembered, that on the memor- able evening upon M-hich the Morleys visited Balraith Castle, its noble owner. Lord Dun- barry, spoke of letters which had passed his un- expected guests upon the road, and also glanced at liberal arrangements on the part of Lady Anne Seward, which his lordship felt convinced would be highly satisfactory to the very impor- tunate personages with whom his lordship had at that moment to deal. Li the whirlwind of anger, offended pride, and terrible disappoint- ment, these little observations of the noble lord had been utterly disregarded, and the affair of the rejection having so shortly afterwards been followed up by the attempted elopement and unfortunate arrest, the thoughts of Mr. William jMorley Seward had never reverted to VOL. I. O i90 COUSIN WILLIAM. Balraith or its patrician owner ; those, together with the exemplary lady, his lordship's niece, being of all things the very least desirable to be remembered by him. Accordingly, the surprise of the worthy young gentleman was hardly less than his satis- faction, at receiving a letter, which had been hunting him for many days, from Messrs. Pike, Badgery, Crump and Widdicombe, the solici- tors of the noble earl and his noble niece, announcing, not only the desire of those ex- alted personages, that he, William Morley, should, by a similar indulgent process to that, by which his Majesty King George the Third had permitted him to assume the name of Seward, disburthen himself of the said honor- able appellation with all convenient dispatch, at the same time referring to other letters (evi- dently those alluded to, with so mucli self-com- placency, by the Earl at Balraith) in which the Lady Anne had desired that all the plate, carriages, and other necessaries of life, which had been finished at the period of the proposed marriage, and upon which the united arms of the families had been painted, engraved, etched. COUSIN WILLIAM. 29'^ carved, or otherwise inscribed, should be con- sidered as the property of her then intended husband. In an hour the whole tone and character of Morley's thoughts and speculations were changed ; he saw in the noble sacrifice of the high-minded lady, (a sacrifice, which in times of plenty he would have spurneil with con- tempt) a magnanimous display of mind and feeling, and immediately fell to calculating how many of his pecuniary difficulties would be sur- mounted by the sale of the articles enumerated, with the proceeds of which he determined (with more wisdom than he was usually in the habit of displaying) to get out of the Guards, and purchase promotion in some regiment of the line, in India if possible, or at all events out of England ; by which measure he might de- cidedly remove himself from the condolence of his friends, or the sl}^ inuendos of his enemies. The discover}^ of this unexpected relief at once put an end to his pursuit of Caroline ; she never entered his thoughts— all his ideas were absorbed by the sudden acquisition of a sum of money, which in former days he would have considered too trifling to be staked even upon o 2 292 COUSIN WILLIAM. the single cast of a die. Such are the muta- tions of human hfe, such the elasticity of the human mind, that anxious as he was, to shun the sphere in which he fiad once shone a star of the first magnitude, he regarded the few thou- sand pounds which the pride, rather than the liberality of the Lady Anne, had put into his pos- session, as the most noble acquisition he had ever made, merely because it afforded him the means of flying from associations which could not fail to be perpetually assailing and tormenting him during his stay in this country. Accordingly, having been un-Sewarded, he hurried over the official details of exchange, divided the spoils of his frustrated matrimonial scheme with his worthy father, who forthwith proceeded to the hospitable shores of Mona, preferring the authority of the liberal Keys of that island to the contracting locks of this ; and having written an affectionate let/er to Crosby, containing a most friendly enclosure to Caro- line, betook himself in a transport to join one of his Majesty's regiments quartered at that period in the Island of Barbados and its depen- dencies, the number of which, for obvious reasons, I must beg to conceal. COUSIN WILLIAM. 293 Had poor Morley been fortunate enough to get to the East, hopes might have been enter- tained of him — some chance might have been afforded of his return— but when to the horrors of heat, fogs, flies and fevers, were superadded the perils of punch and all the colonial allure- ments of Nancy Clarke, there appeared but little probability that a person of his- character and constitution would long survive the com- bined forces ranged in such formidable array against him. Go, however, he did ; and his departure was announced to Caroline on the morning following the day of Sir Mark's dinner, and his unsealed note delivered to her by her father. She had, as I have already observed, considered the ac- complishments and attractive qualities of Mor- ky, during the preceding night, by comparing him in imagination with those, whom she met at Stamfordleigh, and at the present epoch of her life she remembered him without emotion, and even felt an interest in other and newer friends — but when she saw his well-known hand- writing, when she found herself addressed in terms of mere friendliness, in an open letter enclosed to her father, when she found in that 294 COUSIN WILLIAM. ©pen letter, hopes expressed for her future happiness with another man, what were her feehngs ? Then did she think of him with indifference ? — then did she recollect all that had passed with calmness ? ihen^ did she put in competition with her love for him any thing co-existent ? — No — the one sole ruling passion of her life possessed her, and she rushed from her father's presence to her room, to give vent to an agony of grief in floods of tears. Till then — till that moment, she had still hoped what she most feared, and anxiously ex- pected what she trembled even to anticipate — it was all wild, all visionary — but it was hope, she knew not how grounded, how to be realized ; but it was something to cling to — then^ while she thought the idol of her heart within her reach, she tried to soothe herself for his loss by undervaluing his merits and underrating her own affection ; but now that he was gone, that the ship was on the sea that bore him to war and peril, to pestilence, and perhaps to death, all the woman filled her soul, and she was only awakened from a death-like stupor of grief, to meet her intended husband and his COUSIN WILLIAM. 295 friend Mr. Allsford, who at two o'clock pre- cisely arrived at Crosby, accompanied by the anonymous dummy, noticed in the proceedings of the preceding day. That she hated Sir Mark at this moment, none of my readers who know human nature can doubt ; but even her hatred of Sir Mark was less singularly felt by her, at the moment of her summons to the library, than her con- tempt of herself, for having given a thought to the graceful manners and pleasing conversation of Mr. Allsford, (whose visit, unaccountable to her as it still was, prefaced as it had been, was if possible, an additional horror to that of Ter- rington ;) she was humbled by her own frivo- lity — she repented of her anger towards William — she sickened at the thought of Sir Mark, and was even out of temper with her faithful maid and monitor. AVhen she entered the library, and found the party assembled, her first care was to avoid the light — ^her swollen eyes too plainly proclaimed the grief she had suffered, and she was already too wise in manoeuvering, not to shift for the sun, upon the present occasion, with as much address as a prize-fighter. 296 COUSIN WILLIAM. After a few common-place nothingnesses, Crosby proposed to Sir Mark a removal to the drawing-room, which was acceded to, by the baronet; Caroline wondered, but of course made no objection; they retired, leaving only the anonymous dummy to disturb the tete a Ute between Allsford and the bride elect. When the high contracting parties had quitted the room, Allsford proceeded to untie some papers which lay on the table, and addressing himself to the dummy, said, " Mr. Tapes, you may go into the next room— I'll call you pre- sently. Mr. Tapes, to Caroline's infinite astonish- ment, rose from his seat, upon which he had never appeared very easy, and left the library. " Miss Crosby," said Allsford, " I have some papers to read over to you, at Sir Mark's desire, and indeed at the desire of Mr. Crosby." " Papers ! " said Caroline. *' Yes," replied Allsford, and again fixing his eyes full on hers, he added, " you have been weeping, Miss Crosby.*' The accusation only produced a renewal of the crime. An extraordinary silence followed, she walked COUSIN WILLIAM. 297 to the window — stood for a minute or two, during which Allsford remained seated, and still gazing on her. She then returned towards him. *' I am sure, Sir," said she, with spirit and firmness, " I am not to be subjected to any un- necessary observations — may I ask what is the object of tliis interview ?" *' I am here, Miss Crosby," said Allsford, with strong marks of agitation, " as Sir Mark Terrington's solicitor, to submit certain papers to your notice." Solicitor ! thought Caroline, who, imbibing the prejudices of the vulgar, fancied the charac- ter of attorney and gentleman almost incom- patible, although legally synonimous — and not aware that amongst that stupidly traduced branch of the profession there exist innumerable men, not only of high principle but of general accomplishment, refined taste, and polished manners ; had always taken her father's attorney at law, with his dingy leathers, mahogany tops, brown bob and green spectacles, as a fair speci- men of the whole tribe^ and never once by the slightest chance fancied the graceful, gay, and elegant person who had regarded her with such evident interest, and whose regards had not been o 3 29S COUSIN WILLIAM. altogether unacknowledged, c.ould possibly be- long to the calling by which Mr. Dobbs, the aforesaid attorney at law, made his three or four hundreds a year, and kept Mrs. Dobbs and his daughter Olympia, a one horse chaise. AUsford saw her surprise, and saw that she noticed his agitation, although under the cir- cumstances she could not exactly account for it. " You must forgive me," said he : "I am placed in a situation of the greatest delicacy — I sliould never have referred to it, but I am sure I have betrayed myself," Caroline saw his emotion — she essayed to speak — so did he to proceed — at length he suc- ceeded in the eifort. " As I said before, Miss Crosby,'*' continued he, " I am here as Sir Mark's solicitor, to sub- mit those papers;" — another pause. ' '' By heavens," exclaimed he — " I know not how to explain myself, although explanation you must have — he has been a client of our house for years — ^lie is all that is excellent, amiable and worthy ; God send you happy with him." The fervour of the man of business excited a thousand feelings in Caroline's breast. COUSIN WILLIAM. 299 " What on earth do you mean ?"" said the sen- sitive girl — " is there any previous attachment — any previous connection on his part, which I am perhaps cruelly, yet unconsciously violat- ing?- " No— no," said AUsford, quitting his seat and looking round with the air of a man who is about to communicate something vitally im- portant : " You must have noticed my feelings last night — I have a professional duty to per- form — 1 have in my heart a secret confided to me in my private capacity." It is impossible to be confidential with a woman — particularly if she be young, hand- some, and full of feeling, without practically evincing an interest somewhat superior to that expressed by the distant cold civility of an every day acquaintance. They say, who account for the place assigned to the wedding- ring, that there is an artery, or a vein, or some- thing, (heaven knows what) which leads direct from the finger of a woman to her heart ; cer- tain it is — it might have been wrong— it may be unusual — however I presume it to have been natural — that Allsford felt an impulse — conscious as he was of the purity of his feelings, and sod COUSIN WILLIAM. seeing the agitation of Caroline, to take her hand into his — which he accordingly did, en- treating her to listen to him patiently and calmly — precisely at which critical juncture the library door opened, and the anonymous dummy suddenly entered with a paper. « Well !" said Allsford, letting fall Caro- line's hand, and turning to the dummy. " You have taken the will out of the bag, instead of the trust deed, Sir," said dummy. "Oh!" said Allsford, comparatively pleased that the intruder was not Sir Mark himself— " Ah — put it down — yes — there — well — that will do, Mr. Tapes." And dummy having done as directed, re- tired* " Who is that .?'' said Caroline, anxious to know the worst. " He dined with us yester- day — what is he doing here ?" " He is one of the young gentlemen in our office,*" said Allsford. " What will he say ?"" said Caroline, terrified at what he had seen, harmJess as it was. " He never says anything," said Allsford. " But what will he think ?'"' said Caroline. " He does not think at all," said Allsford, COUSIN WILLIAM. 301 who wished by a little shew of gaiety to re- animate his terrified companion ; "for although he came down with me on business to Sir Mark's, men in our profession are never allowed to think, till their articles are out." This official explanation, which AUsford, who was completely upset by the interview, thought it necessary to give, was not quite so clear or satisfactory to his hearer, as he perhaps might have expected — for she was just as anxious to hear the communication, which he evidently wished to make, as he appeared to be to make it ; but it seemed as if fate had ordained that upon this special occasion he should not unburthen his mind, nor she receive the desired intelli- gence ; for at this period of the affair, Mr. Crosby, who had ventured out in a sort of roquelaire, lined with fur, appeared (attended by Sir Mark) approaching the library-windows, which opened to the terrace, and it became necessary for the solicitor to throw himself sud- denly into his old place at the table, in a busi- ness-like attitude, and seem at all events to be reading, which manoeuvre he performed in a most masterly manner, entreating Caroline to be assured upon one point, that her surmises COUSIN WILLIAM. as to any former attachment of his client were wholly unfounded. It certainly appeared as if poor Caroline were doomed to suffer all sorts of mental inquietude : to whatever quarter she turned, she was met by some new incident, calculated to disturb and agitate her ; and now even upon that point, the most important of her life, and upon which she certainly required no new excitement, she was assailed with a mystery not calculated to in- crease the pleasantness of the prospect of her future life. Assured, however, that whatever it might be, the communication which Allsford in vain had endeavoured to withhold, ought not to inter- fere with the progress of the matrimonial treaty between her and Sir Mark, she proceeded to listen to a jargon which she did not understand, but which she was told it was right she should hear ; nor was she a little relieved, when Alls- ford, having " read short," in order to make a fair return of expenditure of time, she, under leave from her intended husband''s homme d'af- faires^ sprang from the table, and opened the doors of the library, to give admission to her father and Sir Mark. COUSIN WILLIAM. 803 " You are a considerate good girl, Caroline," said Mr. Crosby — " I assure you, hot as the sun is, there is an agueish twinge in the wind, which my toe tells me is getting to the east- ward." Sir Mark affected a playful dalliance with the chilled fingers of his intended wife, which for liveliness far outdid his usual outdoings ; Allsford, conscious that he had not been per- forming his duty according to the strict letter of the law, felt uneasy, and nervous, lest any leading question, touching the business-part of his Ute a tete with Caroline, might induce the difficulty of committing himself either to her or her lover; and, as is the case with every man who, " when a lady is in the case," has deviated from the strait broad path, he felt a sort of conscious dislike to entering into conversation with Sir Mark ; while on the other hand Sir Mark, de- sirous of knowing what his bride had said with respect to certain proposed arrangements, pressed upon him in double quick time. Caroline saw all this, and catching the arm of her intended spouse, said with a look which would have won a stoic — 804 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Mr. Allsford won't tell you the truth. Sir Mark, if you ask him." " Indeed !" said Sir Mark ; " now do you know, I doubt that ; I have always found him candid, sincere, and single-minded ; and I need hardly add, that with such a character he is not likely to deceive me." Allsford felt his cheeks glow, and his hands grow strangely cold; " Depend upon it," said Caroline, " / must be the historian of our conversation." Allsford grew worse. " You have heard him read what I begged him to submit to you ?" said the baronet. " Not I, indeed," replied she — " he muttered and mumbled some words which were wholly in- comprehensible to 7/1^, and as I found they related to money and things of that sort, I stopped him — I cannot consent to become a woman of business so early in life, I am quite satis- fied with everything, with anything you pro- pose.'* " You are too ingenuous," said Sir Mark, " too confiding.'' " Not a bit, my dear Sir Mark," exclaimed COUSIN WILLIAM. S05 Crosby, " not a bit — where there is not implicit confidence, there can be no true affection." " Why, Mr. i^llsford seemed reading as we approached," said Sir Mark, " I observed him through the window." Allsford was in a perfect puzzle. " He was not reading," said Caroline, " he merely assumed the attitude for effect." Allsford felt that he was caught in his own springe, and betrayed by the unsophisticated girl upon whose discretion he had so incautiously relied. '' Is this so, Allsford?" said Sir Mark, laughingly. " Am I not believed ?" said Caroline. " Why then what have you been doing all this time with our charge (Tqffaires f said her father. Allsford felt ready to drop— a lawyer or a physician, playing tricks with a client, or a patient, young and lovely as Caroline was, assuredly founders, and sinks out of soundings. " Do you really wish to know, papa V said the animated girl. " / don't," replied Crosby archly, yet half HI earnest ; " but, perhaps, Sir Mark does." 306 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Then Til tell him," said Caroline. AUsford felt that his '< occupation was gone." " We have been discussing the colour of the carriage," said Caroline, " and Mr. Allsf^rd quite agrees with me." " So that was your discussion, instead of law," said Sir Mark, patting her cheek play- fully. « Well, Mr. Allsford, and after all, which are you for ?" Allsford, who had never heard of the carriage, and who of course knew nothing about it, was now absolutely posed — he stammered a few words, and was evidently about to commit himself. " Don't tell him, Mr. Allsford," interrupted Caroline — " let Sir Mark guess, whether you were for the olive green, or the pale yello^.'*'' The lawyer was relieved again. " Olive green," said Crosby, " never can be in fashion." " That's exactly what Mr. Allsford said," said Caroline. " No, Miss Crosby," said Allsford, deter- mining to keep up the joke, (as he now began to hope it might be,) " / said, olive green was the colour." COUSIN WILLIAM. 307 Caroline's look of approbation at this rapid adoption of the subject, spoke volumes to liim, to whom alone of the party it was intelligible. " However," continued Caroline, " we had not much discussion about it, for Mr. Allsford's aid- du-camp has been in the room with his deeds and papers, and things quite out of my sphere of knowledge." Allsford was overcome by this last master- stroke of policy — he saw in Caroline, when he first felt the deep interest which manifested itself in his manner, (whence arising she yet knew not) the artless child of nature, trained within the tether of her step-mother s apron- string, sacri- ficed against her inclinations for the sake of money and title — so he considered her when he resolved to ex])lain the nature of his Jeelings — and when the conversation commenced which has just terminated, he began to think her sim- plicity so unmixed, her unsophistication so pure and primitive, that he repented of the confidence he had reposed in her, and saw himself com- mitted by her innocence and ingenuousness. But what was his astonishment when he found that his novice first relieved him, the practised man of the world, from the difficulties with which he had environed himself from a disregard 308 COUSIN WILLIAM. of prudence, that she took his defence out of his hands, put pleas into his mouth, assumed ,to her- self all the credit of disinterestedness, and pure affection for the man for whom he knew she did not care the least in the world, and wound up her display of tact by an equivocation so rapidly, yet so nicely constructed, as to be at once as true as it was false, and at Ihe same time perfectly satis- factory as evidence to her sensitive lover and her enquiring father, that a third person had been present during the greater part, if not all of the proceedings which had taken place during their absence. Whatever were Allsford's first motives to the developement of his feelings, certain it is their nature was considerably changed by the occur- rence of the last few minutes — it was, however, predestined, that his surprise with regard to the young lady was to be still more forcibly ex- cited. This part of the scene over, Allsford collect- ing his scattered spirits, called lustily for Mr. Tapes, whose assistance was necessary to collect the scattered papers, and re-bag them, and whose immediate appearance he thought would greatly tend to corroborate the Jesuitical state- ment of his fair advocate. True to his duty, the U^'. ^ijifc COUSIN WILLIAM. 309 pallid dummy stood before them, and, under the directions of Alisford assorted, and tied up the different documents, thrusting each into a blue sack, which lay open upon the table. After having arranged so much of their affairs, Mr. Tapes was about to retire, and Alisford felt not only his duty but his inclination prompt him to get out of the house himself as fast as possible. Caroline saw the object of this movement, and springing towards her father, whispered something in liis ear — in a moment, Mr. Crosby called Alisford to him, and whispered something in his, which was received with bows and smiles, accompanied by a sort of hesitation, which, how- ever, was converted into compliance by a stolen look, of the bride elect, accompanied with an, " Oh, Mr. Alisford !" which settled the busi- ness. Sir Mark being occupied in unravelling a knot into which one of the strings of the blue bag had been twisted, saw not this telegraphic signal — to Allsford's eye it burned as brightly as the beacon fire across the stormy wave — aye, and as calmly too. " Mr. Tapes," said Crosby to the dum.my, 310 COUSIN WILLIAM. '' you will do me the favour of dining here to- day." Mr. Tapes looked at ^llsford, who having nodded assent, Mr. Tapes gladly accepted the invitation — why, heaven knows — for to be put at table, and remain there, ashamed to eat, and afra^^ to drink, not allowed to speak, and not quite sure of permission to look, seems the oddest pos- sible amusement ; however. Pale-face was a wag in the office, and at the Black Jack, in Clare Market, or the Doghole behind Saint Cle- ment's Church, in the Strand, could joke and swagger, and drink balf a pint of wine to himself, and talk of better things; and at Crosby, perhaps as at Stamfordleigh, he might pick up mate- rials to delight his fellow creatures in those me- tropolitan regions of soot and saw-dust, of which, if not the Magnus Apollo^ he was at least a star of the first magnitude; nor was the soft (I mean in tone,) conversation of Allsford with his client so completely lost upon this said Mr. Tapes as his principal or the lady might have imagined, nor was his intrusion quite so professional nor his mistake quite so accidental as might have been expected — in short, curiosity led him to COUSIN WILLIAM. 311 pop into the library at the moment he did, and in taking the " will" for the " deed," he at that moment established in his own mind the real nature of the proceedings of Mr. Henry Allsford towards Miss Caroline Crosl^y. In due time the party of the preceding day re-assembled at Crosby, with the addition of the lady of the mansion, and with the exception of Colonel Shillito, who was compelled to be in London ; and it might, perhaps, too much tire the reader to detail all the quackeries of the host and hostess, all the " curious things" of Sir Ferdinand, or all the " observations" of Sir Mark ; for to say truth, with the trifling ex- changes I have just noticed, the coterie and conversation closely resembled those of the day be- fore— one additional variation might, perhaps, be noticed — the stolen looks of Caroline at Allsford — her evident desire to " be friends with him"- — This double approach of open and covert civility perhaps was not generally remarked, although now and then Juliana Shiilito seemed so far stricken by it, as to raise her glass and look to- wards the lawyer, a condescension which she, wlio thought tolerably well of herself, by no means underrated. 312 COUSIN WILLIAM. The day wore on — the ladies went — the men followed — the coffee was distributed — the liqueur (peppermint and annisette) dispersed — AUsford had strolled towards a window, and thinking perhaps of something else, was looking through it. Caroline approached him. '' Are you an astronomer, Mr. Allsford," said she, " or an astrologer ?" " Neither, I assure you,*' said he. *' What star is that?'' said she, going close to the window (which being at Crosby House, was of course closed) and pointing against the glass. " Which ?" said Allsford, most innocently, and only maintaining his own position. " Here, here," said she in a very animated and peculiar manner, " I mean here,*" at the same time striking the glass with her finger. Allsford remembering the delicacy of his situ- ation, held back for a moment. '' No one is looking," said Caroline. Allsford' s surprise was now unbounded ; — in an under tone she added, " What did you mean, Mr. Allsford, this morning ?" He was preparing an answer to her question, when the music of Sir Mark's shoes announced that worthy gentleman's approach. COUSIX WILLIAM. 313 '* Caroline," said the baronet, " Miss Shilllto wants to know if you have got Grassini's last song — I forget what it is called — indeed, I know nothing of Italian — and I have often ob- served without understanding a language, one isn't very much interested in it, nor, indeed, can one enter into its beauties.'* " No, I have it not,'' said Carohne — " but I have some others.' And in one moment, with a countenance beaming with mildness and almost affection for Sir Mark, she proceeded to assist Juliana in tumbling over sundry music books, prepara- tory, as Sir Ferdinand Shillito observed, to his daughter's performance of some one or two favourite airs. " Come and help us to hunt for these fa- vourites, Mr. AUsford,*' said Caroline — whose heart was fixed upon the communication which he had to make. He obeyed — she proceeded to pull out of theMonteith, heaps of books, in which she perfectly well knew no favourites were to be found ; but she had an object— and she was a woman. " I'll tell you a very curious thing, Sir Mark," said Sir Ferdinand, and having seized VOL. I. p S14 COUSIN WILLIAM. his brother baronet's button, he drew him from the instrument — Caroline was at Allsford's side, at the side of the piano— JuUana was modu- lating and manoeuvering, to shew her fine taste, her white hands, and her bright rings. *' Look in that green book," said Carohne in a hurried whisper to AUsford, without moving a muscle, not even appearing to speak to him, or hardly to stir her hps, " you'll find something — mind — be careful." " Come," said she loudly and openly, "let us all search for Miss Shillitos favourite — Mr, AUsford retire to your post on that sofa, with your book ; I will proceed to thisy by Sir Mark, and see who succeeds first.*' AUsford, as a man does when under the in- fluence of a woman, did precisely as he was bid — opened the green-book with caution, and found, as might be expected, one note more than the most skilful musician could have dis- covered in it — it was addressed to himself; ner- vous and agitated as he was, delicately situated as it is clear he must have been, how could he act, what could he do ? He could not refuse to receive it — it was not sealed— had he returned it, Caroline would not have given him credit COUSIN WILLIAM. 315 for abstaining from reading it. Confusedly and awkwardly, full of anxiety and trepidation, he rolled it and rumpled it, and hid it, with all the dexterity of an Indian juggler, in the palm of his hand, until at length by a continuation of sleights he deposited it safely in his coat pocket. The end answered — for Caroline saw pre- cisely the moment when the process was con- cluded ; the bride-elect declared her belief that she had no songs that Miss Shillito sang, which Sir Ferdinand, who had finished his story just at the same period, declared to be a very curious thing indeed ; upon which, his worthy friend said he had often observed, that when things were wanted they were never to be found. " Does Mrs. Allsford sing much now ?" said Sir Mark to Allsford. " Not so much as before we were married," laid Allsford. Married ! — the word rang in Caroline's ear- Mrs. Allsford — married — he — married — it was like a thunder-bolt ; why, she could hardly un- derstand ; yet anything after this, she scarcely p 2 S16 COUSIN WILLIAM. heard— her eye appeared fixed, while her thoughts seemed to wander ; luckily the carriage was shortly announced, and the party for Stara- fordleigh took their leaves. The ceremonial of adieux was conducted almost unconsciously by Caroline : and the Crosbys having retired to their rooms, the agitated and miserable girl, fevered yet shivering, bewildered and trembling, proceeded to hers ; everything which had so recently passed seemed like a terrible dream — the only reality of which she felt convinced, was, that she, the affianced bride of Sir Mark Terrington, had written, and secretly -conveyed, a confidential note to the hands of her intended husband's solicitor — a married man ! Where was she ? — What was it ? — What' had she done? — Would he betray her? — Would his duty to his client, overcome his honour as a gentleman? — What did his apparent devotion to her, mean ? — Whence did his interest in her arise ? — Why did he seek to explain himself? — What had she said in her letter ? — Why had siie written t rhese, these, and a thousand ques- tions such as these, presented themselves each in COUSIN WILLIAM. 317 a thousand horrible shapes to her imagination, and drove her almost to madness. Whence had arisen all this ? — from conflicting passions and strong feelings, acting upon an ardent mind, uncontrolled by principle, and un» fortified by religion. 318 COUSIN WILLIAM. CHAPTER X. All days to me henceforth are equal- To-morrow, and the next, and eaeh that follows. Will undistinguished roll, and but prolong One hated line of more extended woe. CONGBETB. Since Caroline has committed herself, and since there can be little doubt, that the charit- able reader will attribute the worst poSlsible motives to her conduct ; it seems but just to rescue her from the imputation of anything worse than indiscretion in the manoeuvre of the note ; and perhaps no mode will be more satis- factory for carrying into effect her qualified justification, than explaining the proceedings of AUsford, by whom it had been received ; whose surprise at the inexplicable conduct of his new acquaintance, was sadly mingled with the most COUSIN WILLIAM. 319 puzzling doubts as to the line of conduct he ought to adopt ; indeed, he was placed in a situation of the greatest delicacy, as we shall presently see ; and was thrown upon the horns of a dilemma, by circumstances the most sin- gular, over which he had no controul what- ever. The drive homeward to Stamfordleigh was by no means agreeable ; — Sir Mark felt —(he hardly knew why,) dissatisfied with Caroline's conduct throughout the day. Not that he had the slightest suspicion of the real state of the case ; Juliana had been the whole evening left to herself and her mother, and having (as it seemed not very unnatural she should) long considered Sir Mark as her own private pro- perty, wherewith to retire from the dancing and delightful world of London, to enjoy the quie- tude of his house, the ease of his fortune, and the repose of his society, she did not, by any means, cordially enter into the festivities attend- ant upon the approaching event ; and although she had consented to act as bride' s-maid upon the occasion, she let no opportunity slip of hinting in the most delicate possible manner to her cousin, whenever opportunity offered, that 820 COUSIN WILLIAM. he might have made a more suitable connection, than the one in which he had engaged himself —that Caroline was lovely, and lively, and sim- ple, and single-minded, and all {hat — but &>v Iter part, she had always thought her cousin: Mark would have preferred a person somewhat older, and better versed in the ways of society ; but all these hints >fell harmless — for Sir Mark had a taste for simplicity, unworldliness, can- dour and unsophistication, and it was after very mature reflection that the result of his observa- tions had been an offer to Caroline Crosby. AUsford was absolutely unhappy — during the progress homeward he kept Caroline's note in his hand, which he had inserted into his pocket, lest he should by any sinister accident,, drop or lose it; and although Sir Ferdinand Shillito told him no less than three " curious things" during the short journey, his thoughts remained fixed on what he knew before he came to Stamfordleigh, and on what he had seen since his arrival there. .Lady Shillito was voluble and agreeable, ami tried to out-talk her husband, who in the dark, and on the king's highway, even in her ladyship's presence, ventured to tell very many of his vejry. COUSIN WILLIAM. 321 pleasant anecdotes. Dummy Tapes travelled 'on the box with the coachman, and thus they pur- sued their route, until they reached the baronet's residence. No sooner arrived there, than Allsford, anxi- ous of course beyond measure to discover the nature of the communication so strangely made to him, flev\: to his room, and opened the note whicli Caroline had conveyed to his hands, and read as follows : — " Forgive me for taking the only means left of entreating you to be candid with me ; — you say you are in possession of some secret, con- nected with my marriage with Sir Mark — let me implore you, tell me the truth — I feel my- self in your power, and can hardly account for the influence you have so suddenly obtained ova: me. I am peculiarly situated — I have no friend, no human being in whom I can confide ; time presses, the day is at hand, after " .ich, it will be too late to tell me what, perhaps, I now ought to know. You charged me this morning with having wept — I admit the justness of the accusation — it seemed as if what you had to say were somehow connected with the cause of my grief, but that cannot be. We meet again p 3 3^2 COUSIN WILLIAM. to-morrow ; contrive some means of speaking to me, or if that appear impossible, write wliat you have to say, and manage to give me the note." Never was man more puzzled than poor Allsford : he was a fellow of high principle, married himself to a lovely woman — the legal adviser of Sir M^rk Terrington, his personal friend, and a visitor at his house— and here he was, malgre lui^ drawn into a clandestine cor- respondence with the young lady to whom his friend, host, and client, was on the very eve of marriage. The note, quoad note, contained nothing particularly improper : she saw that Allsford had something to communicate — she felt it important to know that something; perhaps, had Mr. Allsford resembled in personal appear- ance, age, and manner, her father's lawyer, Mr. Dobbs, with the brown tops and bob, and green spectacles, she might not have pursued precisely the same system, or have adopted ex- actly similar means of communicating with him — but she recognized in Allsford a gentleman, capable of appreciating the feelings of a young and ardent girl, and evidently himself labour. COUSIN WILLIAM. 323 ing under a weight of anxiety, in the excite- ment of which, she appeared to have a principal share. Allsford read, and re-read the note ; and who will but pity him ? — he knew the real state of her feelings towards Sir Mark — he knew some- thing more — which something had created the interest he felt, and the embarrassment under which he laboured— when that something, what- ever it was, became known to him, he had a long struggle with gentlemanly feeling and professional duty — (far be it from me, to say, or think, that they are often incompatible) — in the first part of the affair, the delicacy was great, and the difficulty greater — ^but now he was actually thrown into a situation of a still more harassing nature, and how to get out of it, was the first inquiry which suggested itself to his mind. Carohne had written to him ; for which three good reasons might be assigned ; — first, women write well, and they know it; secondly, she was inflamed with curiosity, amounting to in- tense anxiety, to know what he knew ; thirdly, her mind was in that hysterical state, that April temperature of tears and smiles that, full S24i COUSIN WILLIAM. of love for Morley, full of interest for Allsford, and perfectly indifferent to Terrington, its lamentable want of regulation left her like a bark, tossed on a stormy sea, the Jielm broken, or at least the steersman slumbering. Allsford being a lawyer, knew enough of the world and its ways, to determine ?iot to write what he might have to communicate, which after all, by force of circumstances, had become very inconse- quential — he regretted most of all, however, the certainty that Sir Mark Terrington was doomed to be himself unhappy in his marriage, and render the object of his attachment more unhappy still. And here was his greatest difficulty of aU — employed professionally as he was, to conclude the matrimonial negociations ; consulted profes- sionally as to every minute point of settlement, he felt and knew that one word — one single syllable passing his lips, must in an instant eter- nally dissolve the incipient engagement, and terminate for ever the connection between the contracting parties : this he knew when he first came to Stamfordleigh ; this caused his agita- tion when he saw Caroline — ^but now that she had reposed a confidence in him — now that be held in his hand a note, however correct in COUSIN WILLIAM. 325 letter, animated by a spirit anything but con- sonant with an idea of her affection for Sir Mark, he was doubly assailed. The struggle was a dreadful one ; if he revealed what he previously knew to Sir Mark, that knowledge having been imparted to him in the strictest confidence, he would violate the honour of a gentleman. If he breathed a syllable of what had passed within the last two hours, he would entail the contempt of every human being to whom the story could be told ; for, however in- nocent Caroline's note (imprudent and improper as the writing it might be) it referred to that^ which more certainly than the note itself, must dissolve all future connection between Sir Mark and her. It is useless enlarging upon Allsford''s feel- ings — most men have been at times thrown into situations, where the reputation and respectability of a woman have been placed before them, in competition with security and prosperity, the world's good report, and their owTi happiness ! None who justly call them, selves men, have ever doubted which to sacri- fice. Allsford, generous in disposition, and 326 COUSIN WILLIAM. honourable in character, at once resolved upon the course to be taken. The determination at which the young lawyer had arrived, did not, however, sufficiently com- pose his spirits, or quiet his feelings on the delicate subject, to secure him a night's sleep — he lay restless and wakeful ; turning and twist- ing his proposed conduct into every possible shape ; and it was not until the sun was high above the hills, and the birds were singing merrily, that he sank into a feverish sleep, not unbroken by dreams, relating to the disagree- able adventure in which he had been so unex- pectedly involved. The reader will recollect, that the day following that which Allsford's eyes welcomed when he awoke, was to be the day — the wedding day — the day on which all the tender cares of Sir Mark were to be repaid by the possession of his lovely Caroline, and lovely as ever bride was, was she. The servants were seen bustling in their re- spective vocations, making ready for the ban- quet — and each, as he contributed by his labour to the preparations, lightening the toil they all COUSIN WILLIAM. 8S7 delighted in, with some apposite jest or droll allusion ; the atmosphere of Stamfordleigh was already flavoured vvith the savoury steams from the well-stored kitchens. Marquees were pitched in front of the house, for the tenantry to feast within, and platforms for dancing, under can- vas awnings, began to shew themselves upon the lawn — such doings had never been seen in those parts, as under the surveillance of Miss Shillito were now in course of progress. It was arranged that the party should as- semble, and the family dine together at six — that the park and grounds should be open to the tenantry at seven, and that at half-past seven the marriage ceremony should be performed by the Bishop of Manchester, who was to arrive on the preceding day from London — that immediately after the ceremony, the bride and bridegroom having, according to the particular desire of the latter, exhibited themselves to the assembled company, and received from ^them the gratifying testimonies of their esteem and affection, were to step into the new travelling carriage, which (like the Bishop) was to be down the following day, and attended only by Mr. Gibson, Sir Mark's man, and Mrs. $2S COUSIN WILLIAM. Davis, her ladyship's woman, proceed to spend the honey-moon at Jerrystow Lodge, the seat of Sir Ferdinand Shillito, (which Lady Shillito had^ of course without consulting ller husband, lent them for that express purpose) leaving her ladyship, and Miss Shilhto, with the Crosbys, Allsford, and the Colonel, who (like the Bishop and the travelhng carriage) was to be down ia the morning, to assist in doing the honours of the fete, to the preparations for which, all the energies of the young lady''s mind had been for some time previous devoted. The state of Caroline's mind during tlie night, was little more enviable than that of Allsford's — her fertile imagination conjured up ten thousand impossible . things, as the thing which her new friend was so anxious to explain to her ; and the turn her thoughts took may easUy be surmised, by her having earnestly in- quired of Davis, without assigning the shgh.test cause for such strange inquisitiveness, whether she had ever heard of any attachment of Sir Mark's — of any promise, or engagement, or of the existence of any less hallowed connection in v^hich he had involved himself. " Never in my life," said Davis, " except COUSIN WILLIAM. 329 diat affair about Miss What's-her-name, the steward's daughter, which everybody knows of, I never heard a syllable whispered about hin> — indeed, to say truth, although Sir Mark is ex- tremely good-natured and generous, I don't think he has any great turn that way, which, of course, you don't dislike to hear, because you'll have his heart, and society, and all to yourself. Miss," " Yes," said Caroline, mechanically, and not in the smallest degree attending to Davis's eulo- gies upon her intended husband, or, if hearing, not being in the smallest degree interested in them ; " What can it be then ?" " What, Ma'am !'' exclaimed Davis, catching eagerly at what she could not fail to think was the avant courier of some new proof of confi- dence. " Nothing," answered Caroline — who had so far improved in worldliness, and committed her- self so much farther than the most indulgent councillor could have sanctioned, that she even abstained from trusting this faithful minister of her cabinet. " Nothing — only I was thinking — '* ^' How difficult it is," interrupted Davis, " to 330 COUSIN WILLIAM. form new associations, while the heart and mind are occupied with the recollection of old ones." ** No, Davis," said Caroline, somewhat sharply, " I was not thinking of any such mat- ters; and since the opportunity is accidentally afforded me, I charge you, as you value not only my peace of mind, but my good opinion of yoUy never refer again to anything which has passed with respect to "here she paused and faultered for a moment — " William — Morley and myself. I have decided upon the line of conduct to take-^he is gone. — ^I am sure — quite sure I have acted wildly — foolishly — impru- dently — perhaps improperly — those scenes are over — and once for all, I desire you never to let his name pass your lips, either in my presence or out of it."*' *' I can be as silent as the grave when it is necessary, Miss Caroline,"" said Davis, whose personal partiality for William, even the ten pounds bank-note of Sir Mark had gone but ft very little way to eradicate, and who, more;. over, felt somewhat piqued at the caution, as needless to a person of her discrimination ; ^' in» COUSIN WILLIAM. 331 deed," added she, " as I was saying to Mrs Phillicoddy, we had better aZZ drop the subject/' " All !" said Carohne, " why, does any part of Sir Mark's establishment make my cousin William a topic of conversation P'** " Why, Miss Caroline, I certainly never did mention the captain's name myself first,'' said Davis ; " but there is a gentleman living at Stamfordleigh who was here yesterday, who is the most intimate friend Captain Morley has in the world.*" " A gentleman here ?" said Caroline. " Yes, Miss," said Davis, " Mr. Allsford, the lawyer." « Mr. Allsford a friend of William's !" ex- claimed Miss Crosby, " impossible — why not mention it if he were ?" " Lawyers, Miss, are as close as oysters," said Davis ; " and like oysters the moment they open, are no longer marketable. From their profes- sional habits they derive their private principles, and a well-bred gentleman of their calling thinks it right to make as great a mystery of where he dines to-morrow, or where he supped yesterday, as a cabinet minister would of the secret articles of an unratified treaty." 3^^ COUSIN WILLIAM. " What motive could he have ?"" said Caro- line, who thus most unexpectedly found herself eaogaged with Davis upon the very subject shemost sedulously had endeavoured to avoid. " What possible motive, for observing such secresy a« to his acquaintance with one of our family ?" "Perhaps," said Davis, " he might think the less said about^ Captain Morley, the more a^eeable to Sir Mark." '^ But why should he think so?" said Caroline. '' I don't know, Miss," said Davis, with a shrug of the shoulders, which most distinctly declared that she did — '' but Mr. William mighi have trusted him with some particulars of his aiFection for i/ou^ " Impossible,** said Caroline, " if I thought sudi a thing could have happened, I"' — 'She paused for an instant — and in that instant was convinced that such a thing had happened — in that instant was assured that Allsford, while acting professionally as the adviser of her ac- C€|)ted husband, was in fact the hidden advocate of her rejected lover — in that instant accounted for his agitation — for the mystery in which his conduct was involved— in that instant; felt satis- fied with her own imprudence in having written COUSIN WILLIAM. 333 to hiiiij assured that she should receive an answer from him in the morning ; and that she should even yet be snatched from the altar by William Morley himself, who, in spite of all that had passed — of all his coldness — his deception — his hypocrisy, and his apparent scorn of her, reigned and ruled in her heart without controul ; as she too truly felt, whenever a test was applied to her affections. It may save the reader some calculation to say, that in all she thought, fancied, expected, or accounted for, on the present occasion, Miss Caroline Crosby was completely and entirely in the Avrong — and yet there was a mystery. " I think," said Davis — (for all these specula- tions and anticipations of her mistress did not occupy the fiftieth part of a minute,) " from something Mr. Allsford's man said to me, that Mr. Allsford knows a good deal of what passed between you and Mr. William." ^' Mr. Allsford's servant!" said Caroline, " gracious heaven — ^how do you mean — am I talked of by the servants of my future husband's visitors?'' " Why you know, Miss," said Davis, " cats S34 COUSIN WILLIAM. they say may look at kings ; and we, who rather pride ourselves upon the * freedom of speech in the lower house,' (as I see ife called in the newspapers,) and are not a Httle jealous of our privileges, cannot shut our eyes or ears, and when we do see or hear, why it is equally diffi- cult to keep our njouths shut, and certainly this I do know, that Mr. Allsford's servant as I was saying the other evening, said to me- '' V* My dear Caroline," said Mrs. Crosby, opening the door of the dressing-room, which she had passed in one of her nocturnal rambles — this happening to be a night on which, owing to some medicine she had taken, Mrs. Crosby was particularly restless, — " why are you not in bed, child ? — here it is past two o'clock, and you still up ; you ought to recollect that you have a great deal to go through this week, what with the parties and the fetes, and one thing and the other ; so let me intreat you get to rest — what you can find to talk of with Davis I really am at a loss to imagine." This declaration, considering the nature of their conversation, was not at all unpleasant to Caroline, although Davis, who Was by no means COUSIN WILLIAM SS5 an inexpert listener herself, did not place the implicit credit in the assertion of Mrs. Crosby, which her daughter-in-law was inclined to allow it. Caroline made some confused answer, but felt it absolutely necessary to take serious mea- sures towards retiring for the night ; quite con- vinced that the present unseasonable visitation of her mother-in-law would be repeated the very first time the unsettled state of her mind led her to dispel her ennui by another stroll along the lobby. Besides, the fact that there was a waking creature near them, was sufficient to check the freedom of their conversation ; and as if to enforce her solicitations, Mrs. Crosby did not appear disposed to quit the dressing-room until Caroline was actually ready, as a fine writer would say, " to stretch her fevered limbs upon the expectant couch," or, as is the fact — to step into bed. The truth was, that being up, and finding Davis up also, Mrs. Crosby availed herself of the opportunity of settling some details con- nected with the approaching journey of the bride, which, regardless of the evident sleepiness of the soubrette, she proceeded to arrange, bar- COUSIX WILLIAM. ing for that purpose removed into her own dressing-room, in order that Caroline might nc^ be disturbed by their deUberations. The caution, how kindly soever intended, was in point of fact, useless — what the poor girl bad heard but imperfectly, coupled with what had transpired so strangely^ completely un- settled her — a newlight burst in upon her — new hc^s, new fears, and the vision of him whom she knew to be far away, flitted before her in all the radiance of brighter days. Burning with fever, she kept perpetually looking through the curtains of her bed, to watch the progress of the day — ^hour after hour did she count, as they led cm to that in which she was to meet Allsford ; hardly believing or thinking that his feelings and sufferings, although, perhaps, diiFerently aroused and excited, were equally poignant with her own. It is scarcely to be imagined that Davis escaped the closest questioning during the operation of dressing her young lady in the morning ; but she appeared to have taken a new line since the jM-eceding night, or rather the earlier part of tlie day, for she now dexterously evaded the queries of her mistress, touching the observations of COUSIN WILLIAM. 337 Mr. Allsford's servant, which, however import- ant the desired information might really be, Caroline abstained from pressing authoritatively, conscious of the interest she really felt in the man's master, and apprehensive that her anxiety might excite the surmises and suspicions of her maid, who was as well aware of the real state of her mistress's feelings towards Sir Mark, as her mistress herself. Time flew, and Caroline appeared at the breakfast table, dissatisfied with herself, with Davis, and with all the world : she went through the established forms of the meal as laid down at Crosby, wholly unconscious of her proceed- ings, and hardly alive to the feeling that it was for the last time but one she presided in the capacity of tea-maker under her paternal roof; the dread of the approaching ceremony absorbed all other thoughts and feelings ; and all that seemed to cheer her in the darkness which sur- rounded her, and which was fast closing in upon her, was the one solitary hope, that Allsford had something to communicate which would justify her in breaking off the treaty of marriage, if not actually force her into that important measure. VOL. T. Q 338' COUSIN WILLIAM. It is hardly possible, I feel, to depict with any chance of success the state of poor Caro- line's mind under these circumstanoes : she could not but respect Sir Mark — she could not but desire to become independent of the harassing petty tyranny of her step-mother. Above all, she felt the vital importance of rescuing herself now from the repeated taunts and jokes and inuendos and insinuations to which the defec- tion of Morley had rendered her liable ; but, attentive, courteous, kind and affectionate as Sir Mark was, and certain as was the continu- ance of that kindness and affection — (if Alls- ford's communication did not throw some new light upon his character,) she still felt a sovereign contempt for his intellectual powers — she listened with forced gaiety to his observa- tions when addressed to herself, and felt tliat when they were married she should hear them when directed to others, with pity and regret — she had, however, gone too far to retract, unless, as I have already said, the development of A Usford's mystery should produce some miracu- lous change ; and reserving to herself the one forlorn hope, she suffered things to take their COUSIN WILLIAM. 339 course as placidly as if it were the marriage of Miss Shillito which was about to be celebrated, instead of her own. With the honr of noon came the creaking boots of Sir Mark to Crosby — the announce- ment of his approach made Caroline''s heart beat more rapidly than it was wont to do — her cheek flushed — her limbs trembled — she rose from her seat — looked wildly and fearfully around her. " Caroline,''' said her mother-in-law, " com- pose yourself, child ; you should keep your spirits quiet — this sort of agitation is extremely hurtful to the constitution ; it is natural, I grant, but should be checked. Step up stairs and take two and twenty drops of sal volatile in half a wine glass of water — I never saw you so disturbed before.''' " I— Ma'am !'' faltered Caroline—'' I— am not agitated — '" *' Then what is it, dear ?''' said her mother-in- law: " it must either be strong feeling or worms; — paleness of countenance — universal flushing of the face — thirst — starting — grinding of the teeth—" " Neither, neither," said Caroline — " I '' a 2 2^0 COUSIN WILLIAM. " Spare your blushes. Miss Crosby," said the old lady, " it is strong passion I suppose. In m^ days, a young lady would have concealed the delight she felt at the approach of an accepted lover ; however, those times are past."" Had Caroline's feelings been connected with the approach of her accepted lover, I appre- hend that her step-mother's delicacy would not have been shocked upon the present occasion ; it was the arrival of his expected companion which heaved her snowy bosom and convulsed every limb. The door of the breakfast parlour opened — Sir Mark Terrington was announced — he ap- peared — he was alone. " Here's fine weather, Mrs. Crosby,"' gaid the baronet — *' here's an auspicious season for the wedding to-morrow. — Dearest Caroline, how ill you look. What's the matter, love ?" " Head-ache," said Caroline, '' and a bad night's rest."*' " Oh, you must not ask," said Mrs. Crosby. " You are the whole cause of it —she is so '* " My dear Ma'am,*" interrupted Caroline, kt I '•» *' Oh. don't exeuse yourself,^ said Sir Mark, COUSIN WILLIAM. 341 " let me enjoy the full benefit of Mrs. Crosby's diacrimination. I have always observed, that those who have lived longest, know most." " Why, there I differ," said Mrs. Crosby ; " but no matter — how are your friends, Lady Shillito, and Miss Shillito, and " " They are all extremely well, and vastly busy,^ said Sir Mark, — " all weaving garlands, and twining flowers- — Miss Sliillito has a great deal of taste, and is really making Stamford- leigh look more gay than ever it did yet." " And where is Sir Ferdinand.?" said Mrs. Crosby. "I don't know," said Sir Mark : " I believe he went out very early with one of the gardener's boys to try and catch some eels in Spooney's hole." Caroline would have given the world to ask what Mr. Allsford was doing ; but, although a question to that effect would have excited neither remark nor suspicion, conscience, which, " doth make cowards of us all," prevented her uttering his name. " I expect Colonel Shillito to-day," said Sir Mark — " and the Bishop— and the Hardies of Rail ton. You know them, don't you, Mrs. Crosby .?" ;342 COUSIN WILLIAM. " No, I do not," said Mrs. Crosby. " They are great friends of Allsford's," con- tinued the baronet ; " indeed, he married a niece of Mrs. Hardie's — but T have often observed, if the manners of families are not congenial, they seldom associate much, even although connected by marriage. I thought it right, however, to ask them upon the present occasion — they are very quiet people ; but, if I had known, or could have foreseen what was to happen, to tell you the truth I don't think I should." ", What has happened ?" said Mrs. Crosby — " nothing serious I hope?" " Nothing serious," said Sir Mark, " only every tiling turns out contrary. The very man upon whose account I invited them has been obhged to leave me." Caroline's breath absolutely stopped. '' I am deucedly sorry for it — Allsford was obhged to start for town this morning immediately after breakfast. Some letters he got by the post took him off. It is needless to add, I pressed him to stay, but it seems it was impossible." "Gone!" said Caroline— turning pale as death, and looking the very picture of woe. COUSIN WILLIAM. 343 " Yes," said Sir Mark—" he has left Mr. Tapes, however, to conclude whatever matters of business may be necessary to do, and he says, if he can, he will be back to dinner to-morrow ; but I doubt, I confess, although these lawyers scamper across the country professionally, like so many keen sportsmen at the tail of a pack of hounds." Caroline felt as if she had been suddenly stabbed to the heart — she sickened, and strug- gling for a moment, fell backwards senseless in her chair. " Caroline !'' exclaimed her mother-in4aw — " ring the bell. Sir Mark — the child has fainted — lay her down — here, bring some vinegar — send for Davis— spirits of lavender — fetch Mr. Crosby, with his lancets. Here, Wilkinson, move your young lady gently into the air — I dare not venture into the hall myself— there — there—" And accordingly, the servants aiding Mrs. Davis, who was in instant attendance, and mar- shalled by Sir Mark, led Miss Caroline into the air of the hall, whence after a short delay, she was removed to her o\vn room ; Sir Mark returning with Mr. Crosby, armed with all the 344 .COUSIN WILLIAM. weapons of venesection into the breakfast-room, to discuss in close divan the nature and causes of the young lady's sudden indisposition. So wise a conclave never met to debate an important point so ill furnished with data^the only individual who attributed the girl's agita- tion to mental suffering, was her father — but he was in error as to the immediate cause ; and as he had already made up his mind, that his daughter's first love should not mterfere with her worldly advancement, even his knowledge was of little service to his colleagues in the delicate disqui- sition. COUSIN WILLIAM. 345 CHAPTER XL " The morning was as fair as the maid upon whose nuptials it rose ; aiid the shining lake, all covered with boatSj the minstrels playing upon theehores of the islands, and the crowded summer-houses on the gveeii hills around, with shawls and banners waving from their roofs, pre- sented such a picture of animated rejoicing, as only she, who was tin; object of it all, did not feel with transport. To Lalla Rookh alone it was a melancholy pageant I nor could she have even borne to look upon the scene, were it not for a hope that among the crowds around she might once more, perhaps, catch a glimpea of Feramorz. So much was her imagination haunted by this thought, that there was scarcely an islet or boat she passed, at wlilch her heart did not flutter with a momentary fancy that he was there." T. Moore. In due course of time, Caroline recovered her- self sufficiently to make her re-appearance in the breakfast parlour, but availed herself of the indisposition, which Sir Mark fondly imagined to have arisen merely from the natural nervous- ness of a young lady, on the eve of so important a ceremony as matrimony, to excuse herself from going to Stamfordleigh that afternoon ; 34<6 COUSIN WILLIAM. for it had been previously arranged that she and her mother-in-law should dine there, it being supposed absolutely necessary tP keep Mr. Crosby in dock for a day or two, previous to fitting him for the important service of giving away his daughter. Even the alteration in the arrangements for the evening, appeared to Caroline a great and seasonable relief; besides which, since truth must be told, she had chalked out to herself sufficient employment at home during that period, in endeavouring to extract from her suddenly taciturn maid, something likely to en- lighten her, upon the subject of Allsford's mys- tery, with the nature of which it appeared pos- sible Davis might have become partly acquainted through information derived from his servant, of whose communicative disposition she, the night before, had hegun to speak so freely. Sir Mark Terrington was too well -bred, too respectful, and too much a man of the world (as he fancied) to press any objection to an altera- tion in the proceedings of the afternoon, which appeared agreeable to his mistress, and which was tacitly supported by sundry nods and winks from her step-mother, all of which were meant COUSIN WILLIAM. 347 to indicate to her son-in-law that she was aware of the motives by which the young lady was actuated, in requesting one evening of solitude previous to changing her state. Whatever turn Mrs. Crosby's thoughts took upon the occasion, it is hardly matter of doubt that she assigned mere physical reasons for Caroline'*s desire to remain at home ; nor is it less certain, that what- ever her surmises might have been, they were as far from being correct as her daughter-in- law's objects were from being what they ought to have been. Sir Mark, after passing a morning of nervous agitation, during which Caroline's thoughts were anywhere but " at home," and his plati- tudes appeared more direful and dull than ever, took his departure for Stamfordleigh, at which place the whole of the following day was to be passed in festivity and gaiety ; the Epulae of the Greeks or the wakes of the Irish, were not more unseasonable than the sports and banquets now in preparation — for she, in whose honour they were prepared, bore a seared heart in her bosom, and the shouts of the merry-makers rang in her ears more discordantly than the yell of death. 348 COUSIN WILLIAM. Had any proof been wanting of that, which was as plain and evident to her father as it is to the reader — I mean the aversion §he feh from the completion of her engagement with Sir Mark — it might have been found in the eager- ness with which she awaited the moment, when retirement to her dressing-room might afford an unsuspected opportunity of talking to Davis — to whom now, she felt inseparably allied. Davis was to remain with her, to accompany her on the bridal journey. Davis was in posses- sion of all her secrets, even to the main secret of her feelings towards her proposed husband — and although a pride hardly compatible with the irregularity of her education, and the absolute absence of high principle, induced Carohne to scheme even with her prime minister upon points where Allsford was concerned, now that the crisis was at hand — now that the dreaded event was impending, all tlie recollections of tlie past mingling with the sadness of the present and the horror of the future, combined to tlirow the unhappy girl into tlie power of the fiend, who seemed to fascinate her and command her desti- nies ; and she confided to h&r at the first con- COUSIN WILLIAM. 349 venient moment all that had passed with respect to Allsford ; imploring her in return to afford her every possible information respecting hirriy and his connection with Morley, which she might have collected in the secret conclave of the ser- vants'* hall at Stamfordleigh. To degradation such as this^ even beauty, rank, and innocence submit, when unciu-bed passion gets the helm — to such debasement had the bride of Sir Mark Terrington submitted herself, that she could condescend to seek for in- formation respecting her former lover and his friend, from, the menials of her future husband's visitors. Reader, tliis is no exaggeration — this is no caricature — the tiling has happened, and will happen again and again, wherever there exists a similar carelessness in the education of a daugh- ter, to that which marked the progress of poor Caroline Crosby. Immure your children in the nursery till they are women, and when women, they will associate with the companions you have chosen to assign them in their youth. The mind is like the earth — where rank weeds spring up spontaneously, and flourish luxuriantly ; but 350 COUSIN WILLIAM. in which the seeds must be skilfully sown and carefully tended, which are to bring forth the good fruit hereafter. " Tell me, tell me all you know," said Caro- line ; " Davis, I am at your mercy — I am wretched — broken hearted — what does Mr. Allsford know of my cousin William ?^ ^' They have been most intimate friends for many years," said Davis: '* Mr. Allsford was at Cambridge when Mr. William was arrested at the park-gate here.'* " At Cambridge !" said Caroline. " Don't agitate yourself needlessly," said Davis : " promise me, Miss Caroline, to be calm, and I will tell you more."" *' I am calm — go on." " He knows of your intended elopement with Mr. William,^' said Davis. *-' Good heavens !- — what on earth am I to do?" said Caroline: '' I shall die — I shall die — how did he become acquainted with that dreadful folly ?— I hoped " " Calm yourself, Miss Caroline,** said Davis ; " you were not intentionally betrayed by Cap- tain Morley — the discovery arose through a COUSIN WILLIAM. 351 conversation with the post-boys, one of whom recognized you ; so that the discovery was not made to Mr. Allsford by your cousin, but by the very servant of whom I have been speaking, and who was subsequently enjoined to the strictest secresy.*" " An injunction he seems implicitly to obey," said Caroline. " I believe he has never spoken on tlie sub- ject except to m^," said Davis ; " nor would he have spoken then, had he not known that I was to have been the companion of your flight." '' Gracious heaven," said Caroline, " to what am I reduced — at the mercy of whom am I placed ! Oh ! would to God I had trusted Wil- liam, he could not have deceived the being who loved him as I did. Why, why did I not risk all and share his fate, let it have been what it might. — A life of wandering, of danger, of diffi- culty — anything would have been better than thist Mr. Allsford is aware of my proposed flight — I have incurred all the penalty of blame attached to a measure of such imprudence, added to the just imputation of meanness in accepting his client's hand after such a practical S5S COUSIN WILLIAM. dedaration of my feelings for his friend. Why did he go — why did he leave us at this moment — where, where is William — worlds would I give to recal him — to yield myself to liis guid- ance — risk all the chances of his temper and his failings — run all the hazards of his indiscre- ticais and wildness-^I was too hastily offended — too credulous to believe all that my father and 1m stated. It is clear his father wished him not to marry me — 4iiine wished that I should marry another— it was a plot, Davia — I firmly believe it now, and William's affections have never altered — never varied — they could not, for I never deserved to lose them." " Why then has he so quietly resigned you P"^ said Davis ; " why written a cold open iiot-e, wishing you happy with another ?" " Pride, pride did all that," said Caroline ; " I spm-ned him — I betrayed him even to hi-s ai:igry parent, and gave the clue to discover him even in his follies — could he forgive that ?^ " If he loved, he would forgive anything," said Davis; and I presume she spoke from esxperience. <« What could then have been Mr. Allsford's COUSIN WILLIAM. 353 object when he began to speak to me that day ?" said Caroline ; " perhaps some message from William."" " Do you at all suspect where Mr. AUsford is gone now ?" said Davis. " To London, they tell me,'' said Caroline ; " if I could have spoken to him, five minutes perhaps would have cleared up all the mystery, and have set my poor heart at rest." " I cannot help thinking,"*^ said Davis, as if die kaew what she was talking of, " that Mr. Allsford's journey from this, is somehow con- nected with you." " How !" said Carohne, " how can it be ?'* " I don't know, Miss," answered Davis, " but I do tliink so, — not that I can even guess in what way.'* " All that Mr. Allsford has to do in the pr-e^ sent stage of the business is professional," said Caroline ; " what he might have had to com- municate, perhaps " " Concerns Mr. WiUiam," said Davis. " And he," said Caroline, " is gone — gone far away from this, and from me." " I would not be so ver?/ sure of thai, MisSj" said Davis, looking excessively cunning. 354 COUSIN WILLIAM. it No !'' exclaimed Caroline, her eyes bright- ening at the gleam of hope which darted through the darkness. " I can't .y