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SAYS SHE TO MER NEIGIIBOUJR, 
 J¥hat? 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES^ 
 
 BY 
 
 AN OLD-FASIIIONED ENGLISILMAN. 
 
 Oh ! still be mine the gen'rons wish — to bless 
 And wipe the streaming teai- from pile Distress, 
 Make keeney'd Malice Lide her guilty head. 
 O'er the dim mind bris;ht Trnth her l>'stre shed, 
 Ceiesiia. Freedom ev'ry charm unfold, 
 And fiim Integrity the Fair uphold. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 P R I y r K D AT THE 
 
 FOR A. K. Nl WMVN AND CO. 
 
 LEADENUA LL-STREET. 
 
6 ex O 
 
 Ssiys She to her Neighhonr, What P 
 
 •♦^•«'(Mf« 
 
 ^ CHAP. I. 
 
 And Slander held her trumpet highj 
 ,;^ And told the story tp the sky. Moo>i!i, 
 
 li 
 
 .N the beginning of the dark and dreary 
 '.month of November 1811, I had the good 
 ';i fortune to meet with the admirable history 
 .-^ and opinions of my distant relation, under 
 iihe thle of " Thinks I to myself/' and per- 
 ',**ceiving in them a fund of rational enter- 
 tainment, and admirable example, though 
 "utterly ungarnished by any of the various 
 y adventures, incidents, politics, metaphy- 
 *-sics, fashions, frights, doctrines, horrors,' 
 duels, robberies, elopements, and descrip- 
 tions, A\^hich either constitute or orna* 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 went other works of apparently the same 
 character, or at least agreeing in an out- 
 side resemblance, it struck me that the life 
 of a country gentleman was not by any 
 means so insipid a thing as many of the 
 haut ton pretend to think it ; and I therefore 
 resolved to follow the excellent example of 
 the author I had just read, and lay my own 
 before the world, in connexion with those 
 of my nearest relatives; for as we have 
 never been divided in action, affection, or 
 fortune, in any great degree, we must be- 
 considered as a set of beings whom God 
 having joined together, even my newly- 
 acquired title of author cannot put asun- 
 der ; and it is probable this is the first time 
 a new-acquired title was adopted, without 
 the fatality of dividing some of the smaller 
 branches, at least, from their principal 
 trunk. 
 
 In order to accomplish this desirable end, 
 I provided myself, in the first place, with 
 a most admirable stock of new pens, and a 
 ream of paper, which might withstand, if 
 possible, my continual propensity to blot- 
 
SA.YS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 5 
 
 ting ; I shut myself many hours together in 
 my library, and gave orders that no per- 
 son should walk on that side of the house, 
 which, for the better digesting of my co- 
 gitations, I desired to be kept as silent as 
 possible. 
 
 No sooner were these orders communi- 
 cated to my household, than they travelled 
 forthwith to the lodge, and thence, by easy 
 transition, to every human being who came 
 either through it, or near it ; so that, in a 
 sTiort time, not only all the neighbouring 
 gentry and farmers, but every shopkeeper, 
 manufacturer, and pedlar, in the adjoining 
 town of Fairborough, was informed, di- 
 rectly or indirectly, that sir Theodore Sedge- 
 wood was going to write a full, true, and 
 particular account of his life, parentage,' 
 and education. 
 
 Says she to her neighbour—" What cair 
 sir The be thinking of? He surely cannot 
 be so foolish as to retail all the births, 
 deaths, and weddings of the Sedgewoods, 
 for a thousand years past, since the parish 
 B 2 • 
 
% SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 register has already told it, and in doing 
 so, probably comprised all that was really 
 interesting in their history; for I do not 
 corrsider the mention that is made of them 
 now and then in the history of England, as 
 fit to be made the subject of a novel at all. 
 As to their faults, poor souls, why drag 
 them from obscurity ? And their virtues 
 being chiefly negative, I don't see the use 
 of attempting to illustrate them — What can 
 ^r The be thinking of?" 
 
 '^ As far as I can hear,'* returned she to 
 7ier neighbour, '' it is his own history he 
 M going to write, which must be, indeed 
 ean be, nothing more than another name 
 for his confessions : for as we all know what 
 he has been doing, or appeared to have 
 been doing, ever since he came into the 
 world, if he pretends to give us any thing 
 new, it must be an account of tricks we 
 never suspected, of scenes we little thought 
 he acted in, and of characters we little sup- 
 posed him to be acquainted with. I shall 
 not be surprised now if we hear a little 
 giore about Nancy Collett; for it always 
 
SAYS SHE TO ITER NEIGHBOUB, WHAT ?' 5 
 
 appeared strange to me, that she should be 
 married off while he was at London, in such 
 a hurry, by her old aunt/* 
 
 *' Aye, true/' interrupted the first speak- 
 er, " or something will come out, depend 
 upon it, respecting Mrs. Bellair. I never 
 could bear that woman, a fine, sentimental> 
 tall thing : every name will be changed, of 
 course; but I shall be able to find them 
 out, I'll answer for it ; not that I would 
 say a word against sir The, certainly not ;: 
 I always say he's quite a pattern of a man % 
 but ' 'tis a long lane that has no turning ;* 
 and he may have had many, for ought we 
 know.'*^ 
 
 " Or may have them yet,'* resumed her 
 friend ; '' in my opinion, there's a great 
 hazard to run yet; let him get into pari ia^ 
 ment, let him live in London, then comes 
 the time of trial for his integrity, his fide- 
 lity, and all that ; aye, aye, ' well may 
 the castle stand that never was stormed ;* 
 and I look upon the short trials he has had 
 in the gay worlds as just nothing at all,, as 
 one may say/* 
 
6 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 " But pray, sir, who Is she that says 
 this to her neighbour ; or rather the two 
 shes, for you have introduced a couple of 
 speakers ?'* 
 
 . My dear madam, there are a legion of 
 them ; and if you are not acquainted with 
 some, or even many of the family, you are 
 more to be envied than any person of my 
 acquaintance, for you not only possess the 
 best circle of friends in all Europe, but you 
 are yourself the most perfect woman it con- 
 tains, or very nearly so ; and I hope be- 
 fore we part^ to have obtained the greatest 
 possible degree of intimacy with you, con- 
 sistent with your duties and my own ; and 
 to this arrangement, your husband, bro- 
 ther, father, friend, or even heir, can make 
 no reasonable objection. 
 
 " But this is not answering ray ques- 
 tion." 
 
 Very true, madam ; but knowing that 
 too many ladies, albeit perfect in all other 
 cases, preferred an act of gallantry to one 
 of service, and forgave a man for disobey- 
 ing their commands^ at the very moment 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 7 
 
 when he was professing submission to their 
 will, I took the liberty of following the 
 beaten track, and now hasten to obey your 
 wishes, by informing you who were the 
 personages that, in my own immediate 
 neighbourhood, were the more particular 
 censors, controullers, guides, guardians, 
 loungers, spectators, and tatlers^ of the 
 place. 
 
 Every place has its own circle, its little 
 world, which is, to every resident connect- 
 ed immediately with it, of aa much more 
 importance to his appearance and comfort 
 in that world, as the clothing which at this 
 present moment warms or adorns him, is 
 to that which is laid by in his wardrobe for 
 splendid occasions, or that which, still rest- 
 ing on the shelves of the shopkeeper, he 
 looks up to as the purchase of a future day : 
 to carry the simile a little farther, the so- 
 ciety of small towns is often like a suit of 
 old clothes, grown too strait for the in- 
 creased bulk of your fortune, or liberality 
 of your opinions;, yet that straitness pro- 
 duces warmth, for it was shaped by local. 
 
t SAYS SHE TO H^R NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 attachment/ a ;id buttoned by early friend- 
 ship : in a more enlarged circle, you have 
 the advantage of increased liberty; and if 
 you advance to the metropolis, you have 
 the advantage of fashionable latitude in per- 
 fection ; but your coat hangs so loosely 
 about you, that you scarce know whether 
 you have got one on your back. In the 
 sunshine of youth, health, and prosperity, 
 this light summer wear is charming ; but in 
 those wintry hours to which every human 
 being is more or less subject, we feel the 
 %vant of a closer ligament with our fellow- 
 creatures, and can the better submit to be 
 pinched in one place, than deserted in ano«^ 
 ther; and become willing to barter evett 
 case and liberty for the support of esteem, 
 and the nourishment of affectionate atten- 
 tion. It may be said, that in London, 
 hospitality, individual affection, and every 
 rite of unbounded benevolence and friend-' 
 ship, are every day exercised as fully as in 
 the country, to which I fully assent; but 
 these cordialities must be necessarily exer- 
 cised in a certain circle, and she will creep 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ^ ^ 
 
 in, and make her observations on life,'cha^ 
 racter, and fortune, much in the same way^ 
 though 'tis probable with less galling mi- 
 nuteness, from the increased difficulty of 
 collecting family anecdote: this difficulty 
 is, ho vever, abundantly compensated for 
 among the higher circles, by the publicity 
 which the prints of the day give to the petty 
 detail of malice, and the aberrations of 
 thoughtlessness, when they are once broach- 
 ed ; so that upon the whole, the advantages 
 and disadvantages of each state of society 
 are pretty fairly balanced; and after the 
 closest investigation of the matter, I do not 
 find any place of residence free from this^ 
 disqualifying attendant, nor, I fear, am 
 likely to do so, except I could fix my abode 
 101 Utopia; but as it is an increasing evil, 
 and one that may be corrected, as it pro^ 
 ceeds frequently as much from idle levity 
 as inquisitive malice, and many who pro- 
 mote it would shrink from the practice^ if 
 they were aware of the consequenceSi and 
 others would blush for the meanness of the 
 b3 
 
10 SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 practice, if they were aware of its con- 
 temptibility/ I shall, now and then, as it 
 may suit my narrative, just mention what 
 I know has, from time to time, been said 
 by one neiglibour to another, in the way 
 of chit-chat, with the consequences of these 
 amiable communications, just as a glass for 
 more enlightened, more fashionable, and, 
 it may be, more noble personages to dress 
 
 by- 
 
 Ten thousand times (according to the 
 Spanish idiom, at least) ought I to crave 
 your pardon, my good lady, for this second 
 act of abominable digression ; but the fact 
 stands simply thus; the very day after my 
 paper, pens, and ink, had been laid, secu^ 
 dem artem, in my library, my orders for si- 
 lence issued, and circuitously promulgated, 
 as I have already said, it so happened that 
 I was engaged to dine at the house of a 
 neighbouring acquaintance, where I was 
 sure to meet the person, or persons, who 
 are intended by the new mode of personi- 
 :fication my title-page has bestowed upon 
 them ; and, with your approbation, we will 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 11 
 
 meet them together, as being the principal 
 persons in Fairborough and its vicinity ; 
 and as Fairborough is the most ancient, 
 most beautiful, and, of course, most inte- 
 resting borough in the West-riding of 
 Yorkshire, which, all the world knows, is 
 the most populous, most wealthy, and most 
 fascinating part of his British majesty's Bri- 
 tish dominions, I trust the visit will not be 
 thought derogatory to you, madam ; though 
 it is with some degree of mortification T am 
 obliged to announce, that the gentleman 
 to whom we pay it was once much better 
 known upon 'Change than in the county- 
 annals. There, indeed, it stood justly so 
 high, that in despite of my aristocratic pre- 
 judices, to which, as an inhabitant of Fair- 
 borough, and the lord of Fairborough ma- 
 nor and forest, with an eternal list of legal 
 rights to acts of despotic sovereignty there- 
 in, I do yet acknowledge, that, as one of 
 the first citizens in ^the first city in the 
 world, I think the said name of Mr. Jere- 
 miah Dornton was as respectable as if it had 
 flowed through the veins of country squires. 
 
H SAYS &HB TO HER l^EICHBOUR, WHAT > 
 
 ^ho had by turns bled for petty tyrants in 
 the wars of the barons, or even supported 
 royalty itself for the last thousand years. 
 Unfortunately Mrs. Dornton was of a very 
 different way of thinking ; she wai^ the last 
 descendant of a house which had once borne 
 baronial honours, and in every branch of 
 it had strictly avoided all intercourse witht 
 the degrading name of commerce: how 
 Mrs. Dornton herself/ at the age of thirty- 
 six, and in full possession of all the pride of 
 lier ancestry, came to make such a lapse in 
 the family pedigree, she vowed she never 
 could tell, further than imputing it to a 
 fatality inexplicable and lamentable; for 
 she never could allow that the tender pas- 
 sion had any thing to do in the case: this 
 blindness in her own case, on Mrs. Dorn- 
 Ifon's part, was amply supplied by the 
 quicker optics of her neighbours^ who be- 
 ing well aware that the mansion-house of 
 ber late father, Gabriel Featherbottom, 
 Bsq. was, at his death, mortgaged to the last 
 farthing of its value, whereby she was left 
 portionless^ at a time of life when beauty 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT I^ IS 
 
 is on its wane, and in a period of society 
 when the claims of blood require the sup- 
 port of wealth to gain them respect, and 
 in some cases even to insure them from ri- 
 dicule; from these causes, it was pretty 
 evident that Miss Patience Featherbottom 
 (who, notwithstanding her name, was never 
 mistaken for Job's eldest daughter) would 
 find it a convenient thing to marry ; and 
 as she had in vain set her cap at the baro- 
 net, my father, then a widower, and after 
 him at every man the least likely to repair 
 the increasing dilapidations in Featherbot* 
 tom Hall; and then finding all help hope- 
 less in the country, had flown to London, 
 apparently with a determination not to be 
 sent from thence empty away; it appeared, 
 I observe, not so extremely surprising that 
 she should condescend to accept the ample 
 fortune of Mr. Dornton, and ride in hi^ 
 costly carriage^ and swathe her tall, meagre^ 
 stately person, in his rich satins; although 
 obliged to endure the constant attendance 
 of a husband who had once soiled his fin- 
 gers with filthy trade^ and whose language 
 
14 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 and manners bore indubitable marks of his 
 former line of life : but though many went 
 so far as to hint this, yet year after year 
 passed on, and the lady's surprise conti- 
 nued in full force; for as her mind was no 
 longer oppressed with learning that most 
 difficult of all sciences, the making a figure 
 without the means to make It with, and 
 which is, in the country, a matter of ten- 
 fold difficulty to what some practical per- 
 formers find it in London, she, I say, being 
 no longer oppressed by this evil, had the 
 leisure to reflect upon her own weakness^ 
 and to lament her husband's unworthiness 
 of the honour she had done him, in pre- 
 senting hira with the manorial residence of 
 her ancestors. 
 
 The thorough good temper of Jere- 
 miah was such, that although he very soon 
 discovered his own utter incapability of 
 being worked up into a fox-hunting York- 
 shire squire, he would have been contented 
 to spend his money in any way his lady had 
 pointed out, and have made his bows in 
 due proportion to all the degrees of respec- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIpHBOUR, WHAT ? 15 
 
 tability and relationship, her cousins, and 
 cousins* cousins, to the tenth degree of con- 
 sanguinity, might have required; but by 
 requiring too much, the lady, in a great 
 degree, lost that which she possessed. She 
 had set her heart upon his changing his 
 name to hers; and in order to bring this 
 about, she ridiculed his own name and past^ 
 pursuits, his vulgar ideas, and low habits, 
 without mercy — the mark was overshot; 
 and though the poor man soon perceived 
 that Jerry Dornton must never lie on down, 
 he resolved most magnanimously, that no 
 wife on earth, with all her family at her 
 back, should make him into a Featherbot- 
 tom. 
 
 *' No," said he,^ his whole figure dilating 
 with majestic rotundity, ^' this here is one 
 of the things I never will agree to while I 
 lives; tityvate the old ougc, gild the pic- 
 tures, sash the vindows, and put statutes in 
 the gardens, if you please, but nivver go 
 to persuade me to change my name — a 
 name that was good for a plum ten years 
 ago. A pretty tale, truly^ if I shou'd go 
 
16 SAY3 SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, "WHAT ?" 
 
 for to have a son, and the poor babe niv- 
 ver know his father's name l'^ 
 
 " My son shall be a Featherbottom/* said 
 the lady, with ar contemptuous toss of the 
 liead,. 
 
 '^ My son/' retorted her lega^ lord in- 
 great wrath, "shall be Jeremiah Dornton^. 
 ©r he shaW never touch a shilling, of the 
 fortune I've worked so hard to get him." 
 
 It was, perhaps, a lucky thing for this 
 young gentleman that he never once made 
 his appearance in this troublesome world. 
 Being the cause of daily altercations, in one 
 way or other, for the first seven years after 
 the marriage of his parents, as to his future- 
 disposition, he prudently appears to have- 
 given up all thoughts of venturing on a 
 scene which portended so many difficul- 
 ties ; and as he has now ceased to be hoped 
 for, Mrs. Dornton not being troubled with> 
 a family of her own, obligingly interferes 
 as much as possible in conducting those of 
 other people, often observing, tiiat chil- 
 dren are, indeed, certain cares, but uncer- 
 tain comfort$~that the present manner o£" 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WlfAT ? 17 
 
 bringing up families is so ridienlous and im- 
 proper, she cannot be surprised at any thing 
 which happens ; — and this exordium is ge- 
 nerally followed by an account of the flirta- 
 tions af Miss with the recruiting offi- 
 cer, or the passion of some young man of 
 family for his father's dairy-maid. She is, 
 therefore, undoubtedly one of those wha 
 *' say things to their neighbours/* 
 
 The gentleman who sits at her right 
 hand is young lord Stickerton, sent, mucb 
 against his will, to pay his annual visit ta 
 his two aunts, the ladies in blue damask, 
 who are, in fact, his father's aunts, and re~ 
 side in this neighbourhood on a fortune by 
 no means large, but which the necessities 
 of his father, who, with a noble estate, is 
 grievously poor, renders worth his while 
 to secure. Lady Betty, the elder of these 
 virgin sisters, is sensible, humane, well- 
 bred, and open-hearted. She says little to 
 her neighbour, except to explain whatever 
 appears paradoxical to the lovers of mys- 
 tery, and meliorate the aspersions of scan- 
 d^\ ; the continual exercise of this employ* 
 
18 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 ment is constantly prepared for her by her 
 younger sister, lady Frances^ who, having 
 never forgiven the world for its neglect 
 during the days of her youth, neglects no- 
 opportunity of making reprisals; and every 
 human being, in or out of her vortex, from- 
 a countess to a charwoman, is, at times,, 
 honoured with her notice; she is, of course,, 
 one that ^' savs thino^s to her neighbour." 
 
 A very different character appears to 
 her right; poor Mrs. Maxwell being left 
 the rich jointured widow of an old man, 
 whom at seventeen she was commanded io 
 marry by her aunt, on whom she was de- 
 pendent, was determined, in her second> 
 union, to please herself; she did this, by^, 
 uniting herself to a handsome man whonv 
 she met with at a watering-place, where, 
 like the devil, "he was seeking whom he 
 ipight devour." Plausible and insinuating,, 
 he perceived that the externals of virtu e,.atr 
 least, must be adopted in his conduct; and? 
 as he had pretty well exhausted the world 
 qf dissipation, he found it no difficult task, 
 to lead, for a season, that orderly kind o£ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 19 
 
 life which suited alike his constitution, his 
 purse, and his designs: new to the world, 
 and romantic in her dreams of felicity, the 
 widow thought the poverty he honestly 
 avowed, and the long story of misfortunes 
 he recounted, from which it appeared that 
 he was the most injured of men, was no bar 
 to their union, since it appeared that each 
 party had what the other wanted ; and in a 
 fit of imprudence, (she, poor woman, dig- 
 nified with the name of awakened sensibi- 
 lity,) gave him her hand, and, too late, 
 discovered that she was become the wife of 
 an unprincipled gamester, and a sordid ty- 
 rant. As, however, his scene of action had 
 laid in a part of the kingdom far distant 
 from her home, she thought it possible to 
 hide her vexation from her own world, and 
 succeeded better than could have been ex- 
 pected. As her income, though ample, 
 was only a life-annuity, to which w^as at- 
 tached a handsome residence, Mr. Maxwell 
 declared his intention of renouncing the 
 world for her sake, and living henceforth in 
 elegant seclusion; he therefore came to our 
 
^0 SAYS SEE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 Heighbourhood, under a favourable im- 
 pression it has been the constant endeavour 
 of his wife to promote ; but it is a task to 
 hide the eankerworm which the conscious- 
 ness of being united to a cool, unfeeling;, 
 systematic scoundrel must ereate> to which 
 even female ingenuity is unequal ; and the 
 pale cheek of Mrs. ryfaxwell tells the truth 
 her lips would willingly deny. Unable ta 
 speak of herself, every tak of disaster and 
 sorrow gains in her a willing auditor and re* 
 tailer; and she gains a species of melan- 
 choly comfort, from learning that fraud, in- 
 justice, unkindness, and misfortune^ are td 
 be found, more or less, in the families of 
 all her acquaintance ; her mind, opened to 
 suspicion from the baseness of the person 
 "whom she fondly and weakly trusted, has 
 learnt thence to doubt the existence of 
 worth in any other; and the continual shifts 
 she has recourse to, to hide the anguish of 
 her own hearty and gloss over the meanness 
 and cruelty of her husband*s daily conduct 
 towards herself, induces her to conclude 
 that many other wives are in the same gr^- 
 
SAYS SHE TO KER NEIGHBOUR, WHAl: ? 21 
 
 ^icament, notwithstanding the smiles they 
 assume, and the saucy happiness their ap- 
 pearance displays. Thus sorrov^ has made 
 a croaking tatler of a woman, whom a dif- 
 ferent situation would have rendered lively, 
 beneficent, and candid. 
 
 The two young ladies. Misses Mariana 
 ^nd Julietta Robinson, are of a still diffe- 
 rent description, having read the choice 
 productions of the Fairborough circulating 
 library, till their heads teem with delicate 
 distresses, mysterious embarrassments, con- 
 certed elopements, tender sentiments, and 
 equivocal assignations without number; 
 and being so situated as to preclude either 
 the active duties of household management, 
 -or the dissipation of varied amusement, 
 from the usual effects of forcing them to 
 see things a little as they are, they have ob- 
 tained the faculty ascribed to the jaundiced 
 eye in perfection. For them the world 
 teems with adventures, in a situation where 
 no human being, less gifted, could see the 
 possibility of such agreeable surprises. Asit 
 cannot be doubted but these ladies are con- 
 
22 SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHEOUR, WHAT? 
 
 verted, by a lively imagination, into the 
 respective heroines of each book they per- 
 use, it generally happens thai their neigh- 
 bours become, in their eyes, subordinate 
 characters of the piece in question ; and if 
 the distresses of said heroine arise from 
 a distressing litigation — an overbearing 
 guardian, in the shape of a fat waddling 
 dio;nitarv of the church — a cross old maiden 
 aunt, or a rich persecuting landlord, who 
 distresses the parents that he may ruin the 
 child— in these cases, some hole is sure to 
 be picked in the coat of honest Manby, our 
 wealthy attorney, poor Mr. Elland, our 
 worthy vicar, Mrs. Barbara Sedgewood, my 
 maiden aunt, or, lastly, in the lord of the 
 manor himself. There is no malice in all 
 this; *tis the rage for novelty; but in how 
 many cases is all the evil which malice could 
 desire efiTected by it ? When the dear crea- 
 tures were contented to improve Maria into 
 Mariana, and Julia into Julietta, it Was a 
 little harmless incroachment, very tolerable 
 in pretty girls; and even when two itine- 
 rant performers were declared noblemen in 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 93 
 
 disguise, lounging about the town to seize 
 some lovely orphan, and convey her p-^r- 
 force to a lone house and old woman, ( t'^ese 
 being modern substitutes for a castle and a 
 drawbridge,) the thing was not so much 
 amiss; but when it became expedient to 
 give hints that an upright man had come 
 unfairly by his money ; that a benevolent 
 minister of the gospel was not only tyran- 
 nical and prejudiced^ (as all priests are, un- 
 less they are poor Welch curates, with hoary 
 locks, and, I should suppose, silver beards,) 
 but that he had wronged his orphan charge 
 of some fortune never heard of, save in the 
 ladies' wits ; when it appeared that my 
 dear aunt Barbara, whom Heaven in mercy 
 gave the world for a pattern of unassum- 
 ing wit, unostentatious charity, and cheer- 
 ful good-humour, was sour, splenetic, mo~ 
 rose, satirical, and tyrannical ; and that the 
 benevolence practised at the Hall towards 
 its dependents, was meant to trepan pretty 
 girls, while it pretended to assist declining 
 fathers — thesystem of romance became then 
 too serious for jest, and has given me an 
 
t4i SAYS SHE TO HER NEICHBOURj WHAT ? 
 
 tindoubted right to place these two pretty 
 misses on the list of those who '' say to their 
 neighbours*' what they ought not even to 
 whisper to themselves. 
 
 Mrs. Manby, the wife of the attorney 
 inentioned above, is a scandal-monger by 
 profession ; she was married from town ; 
 and declares the country would be a posi- 
 tive bore, if a woman of spirit were denied 
 the privilege of chatting about her neigh* 
 bours; she is well aware that her fashion- 
 able dress, her tasty little routs, and her 
 frequent jaunts, find abundant food for the 
 comments of all ardund her, and considers 
 herself as possessing the right to ridicule 
 those who abuse her. She is feared by some, 
 dreaded by others, and courted by all. She 
 is not an ill-tempered woman, and I always 
 find her amusing, I confess; but she is much 
 to blame; the random shot which punishes 
 justly a faulty character, may wound a ten- 
 der heart; and no apology, no act of future 
 kindness, can atone for the wounds thus in- 
 flicted ; I have told her so many a time, and 
 as I have found her hitherto incorrigible^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHKOUR, WHAT ? 25 
 
 she must be considered one of the leaders 
 in my band of reprehensibles. 
 
 Dr. Cantharides^ (y^s, ladies/ all scan- 
 tlal-mongers, petty calumniators, com- 
 pounders of truth and falsehood, so as to 
 make ** the worse appear the better truth/* 
 listeners to servants, and retailers of family 
 quarrels, are indubitably old zvomen,) Dr. 
 Cantharides will be there ; he has survived 
 his practice and a considerable part of his 
 faculties; but that of receiving a simple 
 fact, and making it into a slanderous anec- 
 dote, will, I believe, never forsake him : 
 'tis but, however, justice to say, he never 
 dispenses his too acceptable prescriptions, 
 ' without abundantly accompanying them 
 with these lenient emulsions — '' I could 
 scarcely bring myself to believe it, but mj 
 authority was indisputable; it came from 
 — himself, though not immediately to 
 me, yet by a channel I cannot doubt;" a 
 significant look or reference explains the 
 channel also: the company are satisfied as 
 to the truth, but frequently condemn, with 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
96 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 propriety, the person who had so commu- 
 nicated with the doctor, who tells all under 
 the seal of secresy, for he thinks it should 
 be stopped in the progress. Thus several 
 are implicated ; confidence is lost in socie- 
 ty ; aversions contracted ; and the '* love 
 of many wax cold" towards their dearest 
 connexions, from a circumstance as trivial 
 as the mixing of a pudding, or the pattern 
 of a new waistcoat. This animal says things 
 to its neighbour. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Parley married when they 
 wer^ very young, by command of their re- 
 spective parentSj for the best of all possible 
 reasons; Mr. Parley's father had a large 
 estate, ve'ry considerably mortgaged; but 
 he was a man of family, and not far removed 
 from a baron's title and contingent estate: 
 the father of Mrs. Parley was rich, but his 
 grandfather was unknown ; the young cou- 
 ple were commanded to marry, and to have 
 an heir to the barony ; they complied with 
 the first requisition, but were disobedient 
 to the second, for Mrs. Parley brought no- 
 thing but daughters the first five years of 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHEOUR, WHAT ? 27 
 
 her marriage ; after which she most provok- 
 ingly retired from, or at least suspended, 
 her labours, having nothing more to do; 
 for she had always heard her girls spoketi 
 of with contempt by her father and her fa- 
 ther-in-law^ who were her guides in all the 
 momentous concerns in life^ she began to 
 turn her attention to her husband, and most 
 affectionately undertook his tutelage; he 
 %vas just desiring to undertake the same task 
 for her ; so they mutually endeavoured, for 
 two or three years, to benefit each other, 
 and in the course of this pursuit, each dis- 
 covered that they were ill-matched, and ne- 
 ver could assimilate : each grew discontent- 
 ed and ill-humoured with themselves and 
 every one around them ; instead of remem- 
 bering the sage adage of '' make the best 
 ofa bad bargain/' each thought only of mak- 
 ing the worst, by aggravating the case as 
 far as possible. During this time, the father 
 of Mr. now the honourable Mr. Parley, ob- 
 tained the expected title, and the family- 
 ^vishes for an heir were increased. The cou- 
 c2 
 
2S SAYS SHE TO TIER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 pie who had aggravated petty discontents 
 into actual miseries, contrived to increase 
 the sum, by assuring themselves that even 
 their dislike of each other would be remov- 
 ed by this bond of union ; and that which 
 had ever naturally been an object of desire, 
 biecame now one of such absolute neces- 
 sity, that, notwithstanding the regular plea- 
 sure each enjoyed of quarrelling with each 
 other three times a-day, life was little bet- 
 ter than a blank, for want of that very thing 
 which, by healing all their differences, 
 seemed likely to deprive them of this agree- 
 able stimulus. 
 
 Notwithstanding these bickerings, which 
 probably are of greater benefit to the phy- 
 sreal systeth than the nioral, it came to pass 
 that Mrs. Parley was once more pregnant, 
 notwithstanding the repeated assertions of 
 her husband, who had maintained, that such 
 an event never would take place with a wo* 
 man of her perverse temper ; she, on her 
 part, maintained, that she should have ano- 
 ther girl; for Mr. Parley's invincible obsti- 
 nacy never changed his system in any thing. 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 29 
 
 The fathers interfered ; fearful that the lady's 
 health, and, what was of more importance, 
 the health of her expected heir, might suf-- 
 fer from too much irritability in her nerv- 
 ous system, both parties were prevailed 
 upon to delay for a season their habitual 
 recreation: obedience to parental autho- 
 rity was habitual to each, but the habit of 
 linding fault was become necessary; de- 
 barred from this agreeable entertainment' 
 at home, each sought it abroad, and became 
 at least similar in one pursuit, that of back- 
 biting their higher neighbours, and re- 
 proaching their lower. In due time an heif 
 was given to the house, and the two grand- 
 fathers exultingly looked upon it as the 
 bond of union : for nearly a month it ap- 
 peared so to their children, and there were 
 even moments when they fancied they could 
 love each other, (it must be observed, at 
 that time they only passed moments toge- 
 ther). The lady recovered her limbs and 
 her tongue ; old feelings and old habits re- 
 turned, with the additional taste acquired 
 during the cessation of hostilities ; and Mr* 
 
so SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUF^ WHAT ? 
 
 and Mrs. Parley may both be fairly set down 
 among those who ''say to their neighbours, 
 and of their neighbours," such things as 
 their neighbours all say of them. 
 
 " Dear me, you have a strange set of 
 acquaintance, sir !'* 
 
 Strange, madam ! let me tell you, few 
 neighbourhoods can boast of any so re- 
 spectable; perhaps I have told you the 
 >vorst part of them, only to make the best 
 more interesting and agreeable ; you will 
 there see sir James Incledon, who rails at 
 nothing but government, and his two 
 charming daughters, who are incapable of 
 railing at either government or any thing 
 else. 
 
 '^ Are they dumb, sir?" 
 
 No, ma'am, but they are highly accom- 
 plished, and very amiable, which amounts, 
 in this respect, to the same thing ; for ass 
 they can always speak well on any subject^ 
 and are desirous of saying no ill on any 
 subject, they never talk scandal at all. 
 
 Then we have likewise squire Brush- 
 wood and his son, the former a tough sports* 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 31 
 
 man, who talks of nothing but hounds, 
 game acts, and the superior merits of ale 
 to madeira ; the latter an Oxford scholar ia 
 his noviciate, of course he never conde- 
 scends to talk farther than he deems it ne- 
 cessary, to shew his unqualilied contempt 
 for the whole college of Fairborough. We 
 have also colonel Hatfield, his son and 
 daughter, all enlightened, agreeable peo- 
 ple, who have seen much of the world, and 
 blend benevolence of heart with suavity of 
 manners. We have the vicar of our own 
 church, Mr. Elland, a man whom to know 
 is to reverence and love. Likewise Dr. 
 Wilkinson, a neighbouring rector, wha, 
 though somewhat inclined to " talk to his 
 neighbour,'* is yet a very good-humoured 
 man, and only chatters scandal when the 
 conversation is so dull that there is no other 
 method of rekindling the flame of convi- 
 viality. Then there are the respective cu- 
 rates of these two gentlemen, one of whom 
 is — 
 
 " Curates, sir Theodore ! do you admit 
 curates in your circle ?" 
 
S2 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 My good lady, at Fairborough we, all 
 go to church; and how you suppose we 
 can be so inconsistent as to sit down on 
 Sunday to listen to the advice, or it may 
 be remonstrance, of a man whom, on Mon- 
 day, we consider unfit even tabear us com- 
 pany, I cannot conceive. Be assured, with 
 all our rusticity in the country, we are, not 
 so ridiculous as to exalt a man over our 
 heads one day, whom we put under our 
 £eet, without any provocation, another. 
 So, as I was sayiiig, one of these is a mar- 
 ried man, whose wife is a companionable, 
 sensible woman, the daughter of a worthy 
 gentleman in — 
 
 '' Oh, well, if he has married somebody's 
 daughter with fortune, *tis all very well; 
 but I thought you were speaking of a pooi? 
 curate and his dowdy wife." 
 
 I am speaking of a good man, who is 
 only a curate, and certainly not a rich one; 
 but I have mentioned many rich people in 
 the neighbourhood; I have told you, too, 
 that our vicar was an excellent man, and 
 from this I concluded, it was impossible tQ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 33- 
 
 suppose any man in the sacred office^ whose 
 practice accorded with his profession, could 
 not in our neighbourhood be as abjectly 
 poor as I fear many clergymen are. Mrs. 
 Grant has written an admirable little book 
 she calls a view of a state of society in some 
 part of America; now it is my intention 
 to give you a view of the state of society, 
 as it exists at this very hour, in my native 
 place, with its merits and faults, the latter 
 of which are either caused or connected 
 solely by the encroaching evil of "saying 
 things to our neighbours, and of our neigh- 
 bours," which we ought not to say, but 
 which it appears I am saying very freely; 
 but as I do it with a purity of intention 
 they cannot pretend, I make no apology for 
 my conduct ; but shall add, in their behalf, 
 that while I thus hold up the sins of Fair- 
 borough to light, I may safely challenge 
 every borough in England, zvWiout her sin^ 
 to throw the first stojne at her. 
 
 Gd 
 
34 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 CHAP. IL 
 
 I do not think 
 
 So fair an outside, and such stuff within. 
 
 Endows a man but him. Shakespeare, 
 
 Having devoted the first chapter of this 
 work to my neighbours, I think it high time 
 to begin my promised history in my second, 
 though, as my neighbour justly observed, it 
 is more likely to contain that of some of my 
 ancestors than my own ; I have already 
 premised, that we cannot be parted, and 
 this I am aware will lay me under the Tm- 
 putation of family pride, aristocratic pre- 
 judice, and all the et cetera of exploded 
 notions, which ought to be buried with the 
 feudal tenures by which they were once 
 supported. To all this I may answer in the 
 language of my accusers — It is not my 
 fault that I wa^ *he son of a gentleman, who 
 was the son of a gentleman, and so on, back 
 to the reign of the first Saxon princes: nor 
 am 1 to blame if the d^eds of my ancestors^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 35 
 
 their love of freedom in some reigns, their 
 unshaken loyalty in others, and their private 
 virtues in all, were so unceasingly descanted 
 upon in my infancy, so completely sucked 
 in with my mother's milk^ that they have 
 become interwoven with my very being. 
 How far I may be better or worse for cir- 
 cumstances over which I could have no 
 command, I cannot say ; but I will venture 
 to observe, that in my intercourse with the 
 lower orders of society, which has been 
 pretty extensive, I have always observed 
 the common boast of, '' my felgther was 
 as honest a mon as ever brak bread," to 
 have ever a salutary effect on the mind, and 
 generally on the morals, of those who make 
 it ; and as human nature is still human na- 
 ture, through every gradation of society, I 
 apprehend the same pride may have equally- 
 salutary effects in every station under hea- 
 ven. Do not mistake me, I speak of the 
 pride of virtue when connected with rank, 
 not of rank as unconnected with virtue; my 
 family prejudices may, at times, lead me to 
 think '' a saint in crape is twice a saint in 
 
36 SAYS SHE TO HKR NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 .lawn ;'* but they will, I trust, never be 
 found to make me mistake a sinner for a 
 saint in either case, or palliate the errors 
 of an earl, while I condemn those of a tin- 
 ker. In truth, my family antiquity says 
 more for my family honesty and good sense, 
 than it does for my family greatness; for 
 since it appears a plain case, that we have, 
 on the whole, not advanced one foot far- 
 ther in rank and consideration ^han we did 
 at the conquest, notwithstanding we have 
 at various times drained our estates, and 
 spilt our blood, in defence of our monarchs, 
 it must be inferred, that although good sol- 
 diers, we were bad courtiers ; and that al- 
 though we knew how to love our friends, 
 we did not know how to flatter even our 
 sovereigns: after a close examination, I 
 scarcely find one family in the peerage of 
 equal importance with our own in the 
 twelfth century, which is not at this mo- 
 ment in possession of nearly ducal honours. 
 It has been our custom to live quietly at 
 home, till we were called out by some 
 Strong or sudden emergency, which being 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 37 
 
 past over, we returned quietly to the go- 
 vernment of our fortress,, too indolent or 
 too proud to solicit reward by court at- 
 tendance. 
 
 Once upon a time, I find a sir Thomas 
 Sedgewood intreating the restoration of 
 rights which had been infringed by the in- 
 solent favourite of the weak Edward II. and 
 they appear to have been immediately re- 
 stored ; but I cannot learn that sir Tom 
 budged one foot from the castle in search 
 of them, or even to thank the poor shadow 
 of a monarch who had restored them. I 
 hope he was not ungrateful neither, as I 
 find he soon afterwards endeavoured to do 
 him essential service ; but this was impos- 
 sible ; for who can benefit the man who is 
 his own enemy ? 
 
 The last of my ancestors whose blood 
 flowed for a Stuart, shed it on the scaf- 
 fold — *' I die," said he, "for being an 
 honest man." I believe every person in 
 the kingdom thought the same, and no one 
 was more fully persuaded of this fact than 
 'the usurper who had placed him there; but 
 
38 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAr? 
 
 the second Charles, for whose sake he thus 
 suffered, considered, on all occasions, virtue 
 was its own reward, and did not trouble his 
 family with any intrusions of royal grati- 
 tude, for which I at this day most sincerely 
 thank him, as I should certainly blush to 
 retain any thing given by his hands; so we 
 are perfectly agreed. 
 
 Passing by the rest of my ancestors, with 
 whom I have certainly an intimate ac- 
 quaintance, but no personal knowledge, I 
 will stop at my grandfather, whom I re- 
 member as a fine old man, with white locks 
 and a little bend in his shoulders, who used, 
 with somewhat of trembling in his hands, 
 lift me on his knees, gaze on me with fine 
 mild eyes, in which the beam of afiectioti 
 restored a temporary brilliance, and, mov- 
 ing the locks that clustered on my forehead, 
 which he gently kissed, used to tell me sto- 
 ries of good little boys, that became great 
 men, and rode upon fine horses, and built 
 hospitals. This gentleman*s history is cer- 
 tainly very remarkable, and deserves your 
 consideration^ young ladies, for he was a 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 39 
 
 hero of the first order, and so singular a 
 one, that if Cumberland had not, in his 
 history of Henry, (which, by the way, is a 
 work quite worthy of the excellent author,) 
 proved the existence of similar virtue in 
 Mr. Delapaer, I should not have ventured 
 to offer my poor grandfather's to the world, 
 lest this infidel age should have denied the 
 existence of that merit it had not found pa- 
 rallelled ; his story was simply this: — 
 
 Theodore, the eldest of a large family of 
 children, was the offspring of the second 
 son of sir Charles Sedgewood ; but as his 
 uncle, sir Charles, was a bachelor turned 
 of forty, it was pretty generally supposed 
 that he would prove his uncle's heir, espe- 
 cially as he generally resided with him, and 
 appeared justly dear to him ; he did not, 
 however, oppose his entering the army, 
 when at eighteen he appeared to desire it ; 
 on the contrary, he bought him a lieute- 
 nancy — gave him letters of recommenda- 
 tion to some of his friends — and agreed to 
 remit him an annuity, rather calculated to 
 obviate his necessitie;* than provide for his 
 
40 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 pleasures, and which was, therefore, no in- 
 ducement to rest upon as an assurance of 
 future heirship. This was, however, no 
 matter of regret to the gallant boy, who, 
 full of the enthusiasm natural to his age,, 
 and the romantic visions nurtured by his 
 education, hastened to join his regiment, 
 then in Germany; and had the satisfaction 
 of m.aking his debut in the field of honour, 
 in a manner which secured him the affectiort 
 of his commanding officer, and the esteem 
 of all his messmates : at the end of his first 
 campaign he was promoted ; the second 
 saw him in possession of a company; soon 
 after which he had the satisfaction of re- 
 turning, for a short time, to the embraces 
 of his family, to every branch of which he 
 was tenderly attached, and which had been 
 lately much afflicted, from the loss of twa 
 of its most promising scions by an epide- 
 mic fever, a circumstance which Theodore 
 lamented the more, from perceiving that 
 this circumstance had exceedingly affected 
 the health of his mother. 
 
 This fond parent hoped that her brother- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HEK NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 41 
 
 in-law, by some positive declaration of his 
 \yill in favour of her eldest son, would ob- 
 viate the necessity of his continuance in the 
 army ; but she soon found, that during the 
 prolongation of the war, her high-spirited 
 son would never be induced to quit it; she 
 therefore did not oppose his first-expressed 
 wish to rejoin his regiment, concluding that 
 all eyes would see him with a mother's ad* 
 miration, and that honour and pleasure must 
 await his acceptance wherever he moved ; 
 nor was she greatly deceived, for as far as 
 he was enabled to appear in the gay circle 
 to which his connexions and profession in- 
 troduced him, so far was he admired ; and 
 though ladies did not, as they do now, call 
 a man handsome to his face, and make love 
 in a way that cannot be mistaken by even 
 the dullest observer of sighs and glances, 
 yet there were many indirect means, even 
 in the days of good queen Caroline, where- 
 by ladies could convey encouragement to 
 the sons of Mars, with as much intelligence 
 and more insinuation than they do now ; 
 the elegant Sedgewood had no right to 
 
42 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 complain of their cruelty, and his first win- 
 ter in London was passed in as much devo- 
 tion to the sex as a very handsome man, 
 who happens to be likewise a wit, could 
 give— he danced with them, dressed at them, 
 chatted to them, and languished for them 
 (in ogles and sonnets) ; but his heart was 
 untouched ; and he repaired to the stand- 
 ard, at the first summons, with an alacrity 
 that bespoke glory his first mistress, and that 
 the reign of the senses must, to a mind like 
 his, be ever of temporary duration. 
 
 It was nearly three years before my 
 grandfather returned to England, and in 
 that short period his two eldest sisters had 
 fallen victims to the small-pox, and of his 
 father'slarge family, onedaughter, about tea 
 years old, alone remained : as soon as pos* 
 sible, he hastened to Fairborough, to con- 
 sole the bereaved parents, and to shed the 
 tears of fraternal love over these blighted 
 blossoms; he found his mother now sunk 
 in her health beyond the possibility of re- 
 covery, and his father little better than the 
 semblance of his former self, since he wa% 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 45 
 
 hourly dying, in one more dear to him than 
 life. The heart of Theodore was pierced 
 \vith affliction, but not lost to hope; he 
 perceived the pleasure his presence gave 
 his drooping parent; and though at this time 
 the metropolis was shining in all its plea- 
 sures, and his friends, the late companions 
 of his toils^ were pressing him to join them 
 there, his only care was to obtain a longer 
 time to spend with his mother; and as it 
 was easily granted, he remained at home 
 during the winter, where his presence might 
 be truly said to gild the chambers of death, 
 and irradiate the grave. 
 
 But the hour appointed for all is inevit^ 
 able; and despite of unnumbered cares, 
 from the tenderest of husbands, and vain 
 hopes for ever nurtured by the most affec- 
 tionate of sons, this amiable woman breath- 
 ed her last sigh as they were both support- 
 ing her on the couch, and left, for some 
 time, a chasm in the existence of each, 
 those only can estimate, who have lost a 
 virtuous and beloved friend in so near a 
 connexion. 
 
44 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR,- WHAT ? 
 
 The tears and endearments of little Bar- 
 bara, ever the most affectionate, and once 
 the most vivacious of children, at length re- 
 called Mr. Sedgewood to a sense of what he 
 owed this last pledge of his lost wife's af- 
 fection, and his fears for her health super- 
 seded, in some measure, the indulgence of 
 his own sorrow ; this circumstance was con- 
 sdling to Theodore, as about a month after 
 his mother's death, he was promoted to a 
 majority, and requested to join his regi- 
 ment, then at Winchester; but soon after- 
 wards removed to Reading, from whence 
 the easy distance to London made him ac- 
 cessible to his friends ; but his mind was 
 untuned to light pleasures; and a solitary 
 ramble, in which he could sigh unheard,, 
 possessed more charms for him than any 
 society in which the heart had no inter- 
 course. 
 
 In one of these desultory rambles, as he 
 pursued the windings of the Thames, and 
 was comparing its majestic course with the 
 silent lapse of life, he was startled by a loud 
 scream, as of a woman or boy in extreme 
 
SA\'S SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 45 
 
 distress, and looking forwards, he perceived 
 a boy in the water endeavouring to raise 
 something which he had not strength to ef- 
 fect; it immediately struck him that it was 
 some youths from Eton college, who, in 
 the poet's words, had '^ disdained the limits 
 of their little reign,*' and were come hither 
 for the purpose of bathing ; he flew to the 
 Spot, and found his fears were verified ; the 
 youth whose shrieks had drawn him to the 
 spot was so nearly exhausted, that it was 
 with difficulty that the cheering and com- 
 inanding voice of major Sedgewood ena- 
 bled him to avail himself of his assistance, 
 and point to the place where his friend had 
 sunk, apparently to rise no more. 
 
 The major was an excellent swimmer; 
 throwing off his coat and sword, he plunged 
 info the river, and had soon the satisfac- 
 tion of seizing the body he sought, and of 
 bearing it to the shore ; but he was bitterly 
 disa})pointed on arriving there, to find all 
 signs of animation fled from the most lovely 
 features he had ever contemplated. Not, 
 however, despairing of restoration, he urged 
 
46 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 the young companion, who appeared a year 
 or two older than the youth he held^ to 
 exert himself in procuring assistance ; and 
 heard from him, with great satisfaction, 
 that he knew a small farm in the neigh- 
 bourhood where help could be procured, 
 and which he rose to show him. Taking 
 his precious burden in his arms with the 
 greatest tenderness, the major followed his 
 1-anguid and mournful conductor; and had 
 soon the satisfaction of entering a decent 
 cottage, where the inhabitants instantly 
 obeyed his wishes of procuring necessary 
 warmth, so far as it was in their bounded 
 power. Major Sedgewood, after nearly an 
 hour of incessant labour in chafing and fo- 
 menting the body, had at length the inex- 
 pressible satisfaction of perceiving a faint 
 pulsation ; his hopes revived, and his ef- 
 forts were quickened; with a delight scarce- 
 ly to be conceived by those who have not 
 witnessed resuscitation, the benevolent 
 Theodore beheld reviving life animate the 
 features of the pallid boy; and at length 
 heard him, in a faint voice^ pronounce the 
 
^AYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 47 
 
 rame of his companion, whose extreme 
 agitation, at this moment, was so great, 
 that he sunk in a swoon by the side of his 
 reviving friend, while the major, scarcely 
 less affected, burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 The good woman of the house prudently 
 ^ave it as her opinion, the moment she saw 
 the youth recover from his faintness, that 
 they had better both lie down together, af- 
 ter drinking some of the warm wine the 
 gentleman had sent her son for; and she 
 likewise insisted upon it, that he ought to 
 take some himself, and to put on John's 
 Sunday clothes till his own fine ones were 
 dry. The woman^ though perfectly respect- 
 ful, pronounced this request with an ur- 
 gency that amounted to command, for the 
 heart which is truly affected cannot stand on 
 forms; and the major, mounting her little 
 chamber, obeyed her wishes, and equipped 
 himself in her husband's Sunday apparel. 
 He then stepped into her parlour^ which 
 had been time immemorial the drawing- 
 room and bed-room, kept for all grand oc- 
 casions, and there beheld the boys fast 
 
.48 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 asleep in each other's arms; the fine hair 
 of the younger, which the good woman 
 had taken infinite pains to rub dry, now 
 waved over his forehead, and gave a finish- 
 ing grace to his inimitable features; and the 
 major again thought, that although his eyes 
 were closed, he had never seen such per- 
 fect beauty as his face displayed ; his brow 
 was open, his eyebrows pencilled by the 
 graces, his nose was a little aquiline, and 
 threw new beauties over a mouth of the 
 Biost perfect symmetry, on which sat a 
 sweet smile, as if conscious, though in sleep, 
 that he was embracing his friend, and was 
 restored to existence from the very jaws of 
 death. As the major gazed on this boy, 
 new thoughts, new wishes, crowded on his 
 heart, aiid awakened his imagination ; he 
 had never yet seriously thought on mar- 
 riage, except as of late the pains it some- 
 times induces had afflicted him in sympathy 
 for his father ; but as in the bustling life of 
 a soldier, principally spent in a camp, he 
 had found little leisure to cultivate female 
 acquaintance, except during the single win- 
 
SA^S SHE TO HER NEIGH BOXrp^ WHAT ? 4^ 
 
 ter he had spent in London^ he had made 
 a hasty conclusion, that there were no more 
 "vvomen in the world like his mother, and, 
 of course, none with whom he could wish 
 to make a lasting connexion ; and as he 
 was merely a soldier of fortune, he thought 
 It was a very happy thing that he could 
 pursue his profession without the incum- 
 brances too frequently attached to it ; yet 
 he was sensible that if ever a truly amiable 
 woman should attack his heart, her power 
 would be decisive ; but never had he felt 
 the conclusion so positive as at this mo- 
 ment — '* Were I," said he to himself, " the 
 father of that boy, what should I not feel 
 towards his mother !" 
 
 The boy awok^ from his short but re- 
 freshing slumber as he spoke, and fixed 
 upon him a pair of soft blue eyes, so dove- 
 like, yet so animated in their gaze, that 
 they penetrated his h^art. — '' Who are you, 
 sir?" said he, modestly, yet tenderly. 
 
 His voice awoke his slumbering compa- 
 nion, who, catching the sc|lnd of his words, 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 though he marked not the question, cried 
 — '' Oh, my dear Ingleby, that is the good, 
 good gentleman who saved both our lives, 
 who took you from the water a dead corse 
 • — brought you here in his arms — and rub- 
 bed you with his own hands till the life 
 came into you ! Oh, he is not a man, 
 Ingleby, he is an angel sent to save us !" 
 The grateful boy arose in the bed, but 
 unable to leave it with the rapidity his com- 
 panion had done, knelt there, and, with 
 clasped hands and upraised eyes, invoked 
 the blessings of Heaven on the saviour of 
 his life : at this moment a carriage bowled 
 hastily along the greensward past the win- 
 dojv; in a moment a middle-aged gentle- 
 man rushed from it into the room, ex- 
 claiming — '^ Where ? where ?" he saw the 
 angelic countenance of his boy beaming 
 with awakened gratitude—he fell upon his 
 neck, and sunk into the faintness with which 
 nature in mercy relieves the outstretched 
 feelings of moments such as these. 
 ' While the gentleman was under the care 
 of his servants, the major resumed his owa 
 
*aVs she to her n^igh^oVr, what? 51 
 
 liaVilIments; but he \vas scarcely allowed 
 time for this, ere the gentleman butst upon 
 him with the eager embrace of anxious gra- 
 titude, and with trembling joy informed 
 him, that he Was the preserver of the only 
 son of the earl of Brooksbury, whose gra* 
 titude should be as lasting as his life, and 
 who besought him to return to town with 
 the son he had saved, and the father he had 
 delivered from a thousand deaths. He now 
 learnt that the boys had been meeting the 
 earl to dine at Windsor, and on their re- 
 turn, finding themselves warm from the 
 wine they had taken, had resolved on the 
 frolic of bathing before they returned to 
 Eton. Agreeable to this juvenile scheme, 
 they had contrived to send away their ser- 
 vants, whose suspicions having been awa- 
 kened, the accident which had taken place 
 was discovered, the earl overtaken on his 
 way to London, and happily brought back 
 to witness the restoration of his son, a cir- 
 cumstance he was not apprized of till his 
 arrival, as the servants had learnt where 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY 
 
52 SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHBOUB, WHAT ? 
 
 their young master w^jj carried to- by the 
 1?oy who had been sent for wine, and who 
 had positively asserted^ that if *' the soldier 
 gentleman rubbed and rubbed he for ever 
 and ever, he would nivver come bock agin 
 in this world/' 
 
 This adventure had both fatigued and af- 
 fected major Sedgewood too much to allow 
 him, with comfort, to accept his lordship's 
 invitation on this eventful night; but as 
 he greatly approved of his intention to have 
 medical advice for the young nobleman, 
 he gladly assisted in wrapping him up and 
 placing him in the carriage, answering his 
 importunate inquiries by an assurance of 
 seeing him in London very soon; adding--- 
 " Surely, my lord, you do not suppose it 
 possible I can forget you." 
 
 " Do not call me my lord," said the af-^: 
 fectionate boy; *' call me Frederic — your 
 own Frederic— for surely I am your own ; 
 I have cost you a: great deal, I am certajn, 
 and I hav^ little doubt but you are very 
 ill, though you don't say, any thing ^boMt 
 
 St" 
 
SA'i'S SHE TO HEK JiEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 53 
 
 A shade of something like- displeasure 
 passed over the earl's brow at the begin- 
 ning of this speech, but was dissipated be- 
 fore the end of it : manners were at this 
 period more formal than they have been 
 for some time past, and the earl was a nice 
 observer of forms; his heart was, how- 
 ever, too nearly touched at present to feel 
 their influence beyond the moment ; and 
 when he turned, for the last time, to shake 
 hands with the major, he fell into his arms, 
 dissolved in feminine tenderness : the ma- 
 jor felt his own weakness return as he con- 
 templated the emotions of a father, and, in 
 order to relieve both, he inquired if the 
 other young gentleman accompanied lord 
 Ingleby to town, or returned to Eton ? 
 
 " I shall do neither," said the youth, with 
 gredit sangfroid, "I shall remain with you." 
 
 '' My dear marquis," said the earl, re- 
 covering himself, '' you must by all means- 
 go with us; medical advice is necessary for 
 you as well as Frederic, and I — " 
 
 " What would i/ou have me to da, ma-r 
 jor? I shall not easily forget the way in: 
 
54 SAY« SHE TO HER NSIGHBOUB, WHAT ? 
 
 ^which you gave me the word of command in 
 the water — ' exert yourself — life is in your 
 power — be a man ;* for I felt that it made 
 a man of me, and therefore I abide your 
 decision/* 
 
 " Then I shall certainly command you 
 to march under the earl's orders," returned 
 the major, with a smile, " and hope to 
 find you, in a few days, able to march any 
 where.** 
 
 They parted^ each boy twinkling away 
 the tear which would Intrude as they grasp- 
 ed the hand of their new-found friend and 
 idolized preserver. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 How many sit 
 
 Beside the deathbed of their dearest friends, 
 
 And point the parting anguish, Thomson.. 
 
 In a very few days major Sedgewood pre- 
 sented himself at the earl of Brooksbury^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 55 
 
 and was told by a servant out of livery, 
 that his lord had expected him sooner ; 
 that an apartment was prepared for him, 
 and begged he would step into the break- 
 fast-parlour till the earl was disengaged. 
 
 " Is lord Ingleby perfectly recovered 
 from the effects of his accident?'* inquired 
 the major. 
 
 '^ I don*t think he is/* said the man, 
 " for he looks pale, and he can't eat ; but 
 he was always a delicate creature ; he has, 
 however, spirits enough for any thing, and 
 was dressed out hist night, playing a tra- 
 gedy-queen, for all the world like Mrs. 
 Pritchard, swinging his hoop about; he 
 would have made any body die of laughing, 
 that's for certain." 
 
 The major entered the breakfast-room^ 
 which he found empty, but " Pope's Essay 
 on Criticism,'* then a new thing, was on 
 the table; and though he was impatient m 
 the first moment to see his young friend, 
 yet he became soon wrapt in this masterly 
 production, and had nearly got through it 
 when the door gently opened, and lord 
 
56 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 Ingleby entered in a complete suit of fe- 
 male apparel, and with a cheek glowing 
 with such perfection of health and beauty, 
 as, after the account he had received, at 
 once pleased and delighted him : he flew 
 to the door, and, seizing the hand of the 
 fair actor, cried — ''Admirable, indeed, lady 
 Frederic, or by whatever other name your 
 ladyship may please that I yclep ye ; you 
 have certainly put yourself into a form in 
 which a soldier must be very ungallant not 
 to claim the honour you offtr^d of calling 
 you my own. Aye, well, prettily attired 
 enough — very dignified, upon my word--*- 
 I perceive you will not unsought be won, 
 and you blush as becomingly as any miss 
 in the kingdom ; how that is managed is 
 above my comprehension, absolutely above 
 it." 
 
 While this speech was passing the majorU 
 lips, the object of it had retreafted, with an 
 air of dignity and surprise, not unmingkd 
 with fear, back to the door, which, just as. 
 she gained it, was pushed hastily forward 
 by Frederic, in his own habiliments, who^ 
 
SAYS Sff^ TO • irER NETCnBOinr^ WHAT ? 57 
 
 entering, ran and threw hinfiself an the neck 
 of the major, exclaiming, ''Here he is! 
 help me, dear Caroline, help me to thartk. 
 him as I ought; you would have had no 
 brother, Garry, to make you laugh or scold, 
 if it had not been for this good gentleman ; 
 and as all young ladies love both dearly, 
 pray consider the strength of your obliga- 
 tions." 
 
 The major was now, in his turn, dumb-' 
 foundered ; and the lady might have said 
 — " How a man could blush so, was utterly 
 above her comprehension ;" but as, from 
 the stammering apology the major made, 
 she really did comprehend the manner in 
 "which he had been deceived, and knew the 
 likeness between her brother and self was 
 so remarkable, that, in the same apparel, 
 it would be easy to mistake a boy of four- 
 teen for a girl under eighteen, she most 
 kindly accorded a full pardon to the trem- 
 bling culprit, (for certainly my brave an- 
 cestor did tremble this time,) and joined 
 ^vith her brother in saying many grateful 
 d3 
 
BS SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 things to their mutual benefactor. The 
 earl soon after joined them, and general 
 conversation took place of sentimental. 
 In the course of the day they were joined 
 by the young marquis of Blandington, who 
 was delighted to meet their guest. The 
 happy ingenuity of these boys was exerted 
 to find every means of amusement in their 
 power for their visitant; and lady Caro- 
 line lost no opportunity af proving how 
 truly she understood the rites of hospi- 
 tality. Music at that time was a rare ac- 
 complishment, and she possessed this power 
 of communicating pleasure in a high de- 
 gree: she had a good taste for drawing; 
 and as the major was a proficient in that 
 charming art, he gave her many lessons in 
 it, which were received with as much good- 
 will as they were bestowed. While the ma- 
 jor had his pencil in his hand, he was ofteii 
 thoughtlessly employed in sketching faces. 
 of lord Ingleby, he said, for his features^ 
 were indelibly impressed on his memory. 
 Lady Caroline said it was very natural they 
 .^ould ;, but she cauld not help remarking^. 
 
SATS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 5^ 
 
 as from the corner of her eye she glanced 
 at her new master's progress, that the pic- 
 tures of Frederic had often a cap on, and 
 were seldom shaped exactly like a boy m 
 the bust. ~ 
 
 The time for the major's departure came, 
 and he met it with a much worse face than 
 he had ever met death in the field. He dis- 
 covered now, that the time was indeed 
 come, when he, like all other men, had 
 bowed to female beauty, or rather female 
 excellence; for in the conduct and senti^ 
 ments of lady Caroline, he had met all he 
 had honoured in his still-lamented mother^ 
 or imaged to himself in those moments 
 when he had first allowed himself to dream 
 of connubial felicity ; his heart, softened 
 by affliction, was predisposed to tender im- 
 pressions; and having confided the story 
 of his late sufferings to the sympathizing 
 ear of lady Caroline, he had received in 
 return the little history of her own priva- 
 tions, for sorrow at this period of her fate 
 is, perhaps, too strong a term for the pre- 
 seat tone of her feelings ; it appeared that 
 
CO SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 the earl, her father, had been particularly 
 anxious for a male heir for his estates, but 
 had been disappointed in his wishes by the 
 successive births of four daughters, towards 
 none of which he had ever shewn any 
 marks of paternal affection : at length his 
 lady was so happy as to present him with 
 the present lord Ingleby, but had paid for 
 this precious purchase with her life ; hence 
 lady Caroline had never experienced the 
 tenderness of maternal love ; and as her sis- 
 ters had all dropt off in early infancy, she 
 had been thrown on the protection of her 
 mother's aunt, who, notwithstanding an 
 unfortunate temper, had fulfilled the duties 
 of a parent to her, and was becoming dear 
 to her by her worth, as opening reason; 
 shewed her the value of her character, when, 
 she too was taken by death, and the amiable 
 girl was again consigned to the ceremoni- 
 ous manners and formal attentions of her 
 only parent, who was so entirely wrapt in 
 his boy, that he appeared almost to grudge 
 even a single sister the privilege of partak- 
 ing in. the comforts of his establishment. 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER ^'E^G!IEOtTR, WHAT ? 6! 
 
 or the small fortune it was likely he should 
 spare for her. Lady Caroline had of late 
 found that the earl treated her with more 
 kindness than usual ; but this she imputed 
 to the intervention of her brother, whom 
 she described as a boy of such amiable dis- 
 positions, that he was justly the joy and 
 hope of her existence. — " I fear/' said she, 
 innocently, " I never loved my aunt as I 
 ought to do; my father would, I thinks 
 prefer the sentiment of awe with which he 
 inspires me to any other; but Frederic has 
 my whole heart — it will never be so devot- 
 ed to any other human being." 
 
 *' Never V exclaimed the major, with a. 
 start of terror. 
 
 "I shall never have another brother, you 
 know/' said lady Caroline simply — '' but 
 - — but — perhaps — if — if — *' 
 
 The Spartan if was, in the major's opi- 
 nion a very unimportant if, when compared 
 with this; yet such was his extreme trepi- 
 dation, that he dared not even look whe- 
 ther the eyes of the lovely girl seconded 
 the confusion so evident in her speech ; and 
 
62 SAYS SHE TO IIER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 terrible as he felt suspense to be, yet so 
 nany terrors assailed him, from the fear 
 that another step might for ever annihilate 
 his hopes, that he dared not give birth to 
 the soft confession which trembled on his 
 tongue; and alike unable to conceal his 
 passion or avow it, he hastened from the 
 apartment in the most distressing confur- 
 sion. 
 
 Under these circumstances he bade adieu 
 to the family ; but as he received from the 
 earl a most polite, and from lord Ingleby a 
 most urgent invitation to return very soon, 
 he was the better enabled to tear himself 
 from a house which held over him a species 
 of magic bondage. It was happy for him 
 that lady Caroline communicated her adieus 
 through the medium of her brother; bat 
 the tenderness of the youth's adieu, and the 
 striking similarity of his softened features 
 to his sister's, awoke the chord which vir 
 brated through every nerve of the heart- 
 stricken Theodore. 
 
 Major Sedgewood was now in his twenty- 
 sixth year, a period when some of my 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 6S 
 
 young readers will think be was past the 
 age of romance; others will, perhaps, think 
 he has not arrived at that of dotage ; and 
 both may therefore conclude^ that love in 
 him would be a flame attempered by rea- 
 son, cheerful enough to warm his heart, 
 but not vivid enough to scorch it. Tq this 
 I answer, that the major was, indeed, too 
 far advanced in life to feel that hope which, 
 in younger subjects, often supports its vic- 
 tim by fallacious food, and urges him on to 
 deeds of folly and desperation. But his af- 
 fection was more consolidated, his feelings 
 more intense, from the perpetual con- 
 templation of the difficulties of his situa- 
 tion, since they only led him to appreciate 
 more highly the excellence of which they 
 deprived him ; and he returned to his cir- 
 cle, the complete picture of that pensive, 
 yet not dejected, lover. 
 
 Whose leaden eye still seeks tlie ground ; 
 Whose tongue, chain'd up without a sound, 
 
 prefers wandering 
 
 Thro' traqkless hills and pathless gvoves^, 
 Places which pale passion loves, 
 
64 SA'yS SHE TG HE!? NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ^ 
 
 to the gayest scenes and liveliest compa- 
 nions, where the state of his feelings can 
 tieither be soothed nor appreciated. This 
 air of tender melancholy was generally im- 
 puted to the loss of his mother, for whorti 
 he had been ever heard to declare that fer- 
 vent attachment he really felt; for at this 
 period of society it was believed consistent 
 for men of gallant hearts, and even first- 
 rate understandings, to love their mothers, 
 atid therefore the major's sombre air awa- 
 kened sympathy, where it might otherwayS 
 have excited ridicule. The ladies, whose 
 sympathies are ever ready to console af- 
 fliction, would willingly have re-echoed 
 sighs to his, spent many a tender look, and 
 many a sentimental harangue, upon him in^ 
 Vain, and were at last obliged to confess,, 
 that notwithstanding he was immensely 
 handsome, and tolerably polite, yet he was 
 absolutely insensible ; since it was found, 
 that neither the charms of beauty, even 
 when combined with the lure of ambition, 
 could affect his recovery, or awaken his 
 pursuits. 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 65 
 
 The earl of Brooksbiiry and his family 
 had set out for their Hampshire residence 
 soon after the major took his leave. He 
 heard frequently from Frederic, and every 
 letter teemed with invitations to join them 
 there; but they did not appear sufficiently 
 guaranteed by the earl, his father, for a man 
 of the major's description to avail himself 
 of — '' And wherefore should I go ?" he 
 would mentally exclaim; '' I cannot offer 
 poverty to Caroline ; nor can 1 endure that 
 the earl should say that I restored him one 
 child to rob him of another.** Yet with 
 all this reasoning, to resign that other was 
 impossible.; and there were many times 
 when the unhappy Theodore was on the 
 point of rushing on his fate, and ending a 
 suspense he now found it as impossible to 
 bear, as it had once been to end, when 
 speaking was in his power. 
 
 Time passed ; and the cold breeze of 
 autumn whispered the return of that season 
 which would restore Caroline to a place in 
 which he could visit her with propriety. 
 As h€ hastily' walked up Picadilly one mom* 
 
6Q SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUBj WHAT ? 
 
 ing in November, consoling himself with 
 this idea, his arm was hastily seized by a 
 young man he did not immediately recol- 
 lect, and who was too much out of breath 
 to make himself intelligible. While he 
 stood still, to enable the gentleman to re- 
 cover himself, Theodore perceived that the 
 person was no other than the marquis of 
 Blandington, who having adopted the dress 
 of a man, which was, according to the fa- 
 shion of that day, very distinct from that 
 of a school-boy, he bad not immediately 
 recognised him ; and when he did so, he- 
 could not forbear smiling at the metamor- 
 phosed appearance of the volatile lad into 
 the embroidered petit maitre. " A^e, you 
 smile,'* said the marquis, '' and well you 
 may, for a couple of years hence would 
 have been all in good time for my sword 
 dnd solitaire; as, however, I am indebted 
 to you solely for the figure I cut in my 
 present habiliments, you are the last wha 
 has a right to laugh at me for adopting 
 them." 
 , l[To me, my lord? Really your cou^ 
 
SAVS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? (d7 
 
 versation is as incomprehensible as your 
 person." 
 
 '' I apprehend so, but 1 will enlighten 
 you. Know, then," he continued in a 
 style of affected bombast, "most rev'rend, 
 grave, and potent seignior, my very wor- 
 thy and approved commander, that I, from 
 a most unhappy circumstance, became pos- 
 sessed of a large fortune and an old title; 
 and about the same time became excessively 
 fond of Ingleby, because he soothed me 
 when I was unhappy, without insulting my 
 «orrow, by the insolent, common-place 
 cant of supposing fortune and independ- 
 ence could console me for my incalculable 
 loss." 
 
 The marquis twinkled away a tear, and 
 raising his voice, that it might conquer his 
 sensibility, proceeded, 
 
 *' Now it came to pass that I frequented 
 the house of John earl of Brooksbury 
 much at that time when the said John's 
 daughter having lost the only friend she 
 had; returned to her father's mansion ; but 
 
68 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUKj WHAT ? 
 
 he saw her not, for his heart was with his. 
 son. 
 
 '^ Now the damsel was very fair ; more- 
 over she was forlorn and sorrowful. 
 
 '' So I piped unto the damsel, and play- 
 ed about her, and became unto her even 
 as a lap-dog. 
 
 '^ And the thing pleased John the earl ; 
 and he said in his heart, ' I will that this 
 youth espouse my daughter, for he hath 
 flocks and herds, and much cattle, and he 
 will not ask for a dowry at my hands; but 
 he is yet young, and for a time shall my 
 daughter tarry/ 
 
 *' Then came there to the house of Joha 
 a mighty man, yea, a man of much valour ; 
 and he was comely withal, having a sword 
 upon his thigh, and a beard upon his chin ; 
 yea, and there was wisdom in his words, 
 and his speech was gentle, althoti'gh his 
 heart was very brave. 
 
 *' Then said the damsel unto herself, ' Be- 
 hold this is a maUi the like of which I have 
 not beheld until this day/ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 69 
 
 *^ And when he departed, her eyes, which 
 were like unto the dove's eyes, looked 
 mournful in their meekness^ and the rose 
 'vv^axed pale upon her cheek, and her lute 
 was silent in the grove, and the voice of 
 melody dwelt not on her lips, 
 
 '' Then arose John earl of Brooksbury, 
 and he said unto me, ' Boy, gird now thy 
 sword upon thy loins, and command the 
 hair of thy head that it become as the hair 
 of the aged ones, yea, as the snow upon 
 the mountains of Cambria, for behold thou 
 faast numbered thy sixteenth summer, and 
 thy days of Greek and flogging at an end/ 
 
 '' Then was I wroth in my heart, and I. 
 said, ' Who is John, that he should beguile 
 me ? Have I not read the wiles of his 
 heart, and know I not that his tongue is 
 deceitful ?' But I remembered the dove- 
 eyed maiden, and my heart warmed to- 
 wards her ; and behold her brother, is he 
 not also my brother, yea, are they not as 
 the light of my eyes unto me ? So I con- 
 sented unto his words, and arrayed myself 
 «s thou perceivest, and I wc^at stjraightway 
 
70 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 to the house of John ; but behold the eyes 
 of the damsel regarded me not, albeit that 
 in my eyes her beauty was increased, and 
 my heart ytarned towards her with an abun- 
 dance of love, for behold a flame was kin- 
 dled. — But at what a monstrous rate you 
 are walking! Why, major, you won't hear 
 my chapter out if you go on at this rate.'* 
 
 *' I believe I cannot have that pleasure 
 fr6-day, my lord. I am — that is— I have an 
 engagement." 
 
 " I hope you have, major; for I wish 
 you to promise me to visit immediately our 
 dear Frederic ; he is ill, very ill, and I ana 
 the only confidant of his complaints; and 
 in reporting them to my tutor, I find they 
 are of the most dangerous tendency ; and 
 as I am compelled to leave him, my only 
 consolation during absence will be the 
 knowledge, that in your superior skill and 
 kindness, he will find more than a compen- 
 sation for the loss of his juvenile friend." 
 
 *' Going 1 whither then are you going, 
 marquis?" 
 
 '^ The grand tour. It is premature, I 
 
3SAVS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 71 
 
 ^rant; but you see the old earl will make 
 nie premature in every thing. Come, let 
 us turn into this coffee-house: you will not 
 see me again for a long time, and must 
 indulge my request.'* 
 
 Would I had never seen you ! thought 
 major; you have, indeed, ended ray sus* 
 pense with a witness. He commanded him- 
 self sufficiently to say — *' How long do you 
 propose being absent, my lord marquis?" 
 
 " My lordship,*' said the youth, smiling 
 at the-grave tone and lengthened title with 
 which he was greeted, '' will be governed 
 by circumstances depending on the will of 
 lady Caroline Ingleby." 
 
 The major sat down — rose again — but 
 his breathing was oppressed ; he believed 
 he had over-walked himself, so perforce 
 he sat down again. 
 
 " Over-walked yourself, major; aye, 
 that's true, Tm certain ; you have half-kil- 
 led me, besides breaking the discourse, and 
 ruining the finest chapter of family chro- 
 nicles that ever was heard, hi the most 
 critical part," 
 
7^ SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 The major rose — ''I must now wish you 
 good morning." 
 
 " Indeed you must not. When a man i& 
 the hero of his own tale, and there is only 
 one man upon the face of the earth to whom 
 it can be related, depend upon it he will 
 not part so easily with his auditor. I was 
 going to tell your— but if you won't listen 
 t'o eastern oratory, take my sad story in 
 English poetry. 
 
 Like Phcelras sung the no less am'rous boy : 
 Like iDaphne she, as lovely and as coy. 
 
 In short, 'twas a plain case, that ' conceal- 
 ment, like a worm i'th' bud, preyed on her 
 damask cheek;* of course she loved; and 
 as I began to find that was not the most 
 easy of all sensations, and that it was plain 
 one or other must find it in all its pains and 
 penalties, I thought it would be more gal- 
 lant that I should take that trouble than the 
 lady ; this consideration led me, as far as I 
 was able, during such a very short cam- 
 paign in the service of the blind archer, to 
 trace the effects of his power, and I clearly 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 73 
 
 discovered, by the aid of a little light af- 
 forded by Frederic, and a more brilliant one 
 lent by my own jealousy, that 'you were 
 the man/ I then saw my duty — no! duty 
 is a cold word ; for my love, my admira- 
 tion of you, would have obtained the sa- 
 crifice, even if I had not owed you my 
 life. Be that as it may, your way is clear; 
 my work is now finished, for I shall leave 
 England to-morrow." 
 
 *' My dear friend ! my noble boy ! I 
 cannot allow this; I have no words to ex- 
 press what I feel.*' 
 
 '' I am sorry for you, for really if I did 
 not chatter so fast, I should be very ill ; 
 my heart feels so big, as if it would choak 
 me at times; and if I were not to amuse 
 myself with talking, I know not how I 
 should sustain it: but indeed parting with 
 Frederic is — but ?you see what a woman it 
 makes of me !" 
 
 The noble youth, in despite of the spi- 
 rits he had hitherto rallied so successfully, 
 burst into tears, and sinking on the major's 
 
 VOU I. E 
 
74 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 shoulder^ indulged the emotion till he be- 
 came more calm, when he informed him 
 that he had concerted every thing ready for 
 his journey ; that he should leave the king- 
 <lom in privacy, which he had arranged with 
 his guardians ; after which, a letter, through 
 their means, would be delivered to the earl 
 of Brooksbury, informing him, that pecu- 
 liar circumstances, in which a female of high 
 rank was concerned, would most probably 
 induce him to remain on the continent 
 many years, as they included an engage- 
 ment of so binding a nature, that it was 
 become absolutely impossible for him to 
 form the honourable connexion with the 
 earl's family he had once fondly contem- 
 plated. 
 
 '' But will not this letter reflect upon 
 you^ my lord, in a way that — " 
 
 ^^ Not at all ; I have never spoken of love 
 to Caroline ; how could I be so presump- 
 tuous?" 
 
 '' Then you have indeed felt the pas- 
 «ion I" said the major, with an expression 
 
Says she to ker neighbour, what ? 75 
 
 of the tend^rest compassion in his counte- 
 nance. 
 
 ''Felt it ! aye, or I should not have traced 
 it as I have done in either of you. But no 
 more of this; I know the earl, young as I 
 am, perhaps better than you do ; and I am 
 perfectly \'^e\] aware, that so long as any 
 hope remained of bending the gentle Ca- 
 roline to his projected contract, he w^ould 
 not allow her the liberty of choosing for 
 herself; it has been his intention to preci- 
 pitate my marriage with her, because there 
 is a bill talked of in the house, to render 
 the marriages of minors illegal ; this sub- 
 ject has been repeatedly introduced in my 
 hearing at his table, and he naturally 
 concludes that I have taken advantage of 
 the information given me at such times to 
 enter into some sudden and ridiculous en- 
 gagement. Be it so ; his reflections on my 
 conduct will give me no pain ; those which 
 are thus forced upon his own may be salu- 
 tary, and will teach him, that cunning often 
 defeats its own purpose. He has sought to 
 
76 SAYS SHE TO UER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 take an unfair advantage of an inexperi- 
 enced orphan, and to expose a most inno- 
 cent and dutiful daughter to the evils which 
 might arise to her, either from marrying a 
 person whose character is unfixed, or whose 
 affections might be alienated from her, when 
 he discovered, in future life, the duplicity 
 of her father. Who then can pity his dis- 
 appointment, although 
 
 * To-morrow brings a frost, a nipping frost ; 
 And while he thinks, fond, easy man, too surely 
 His blossoms are a rip'ning, nips the root, 
 And makes him feel as I do/ "" 
 
 No ! no ! the earl deserves no pity^^and his 
 daughter deserves whatever devotion man 
 can give. Now all 1 have to say farther is 
 this; enable me to know my sacrifice has 
 no! been in vain ; tell me that you are 
 blest, and Caroline is happy: 'tis a sad 
 thing to be only in one's seventeenth year; 
 but I shall be of age some time, you know, 
 and then you will honour me, by consider- 
 ing me your friend, will you not, major?" 
 ♦' My friend /" cried Theodore, clasping 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 77 
 
 the noble boy to his beating heart, '' my 
 angel! my preserver !'* 
 
 The day following saw the young mar- 
 quis of Blandington on his way to Dover, 
 under the care of a worthy man, to whom 
 every thought of his generous heart was 
 open, and who rejoiced in rescuing him 
 from what he considered, very justly, a tie 
 rendered improper by his extreme youth, 
 notwithstanding the great merit of the lady ; 
 and especially as the extreme vivacity of 
 his pupil proved him precisely the charac- 
 ter who ought to be married rather later in 
 life, instead of earlier than usual ; and he 
 was convinced, that a mind awakened, as 
 lady Caroline Ingleby's had been, to con- 
 template with admiration the matured 
 graces and established virtues of major 
 Sedgewood's person and character, could 
 never be able to descend to the amiable, 
 but far inferior qualities of his beloved 
 pupil, however promising they appeared 
 in his eye. 
 
 A sentiment of delicate refinement, of 
 which few minds are capable^ prevented 
 
78 SAYS SUE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 the major from calling on the earl of 
 Brooksbury ; notwithstanding his impa- 
 tience to behold lady Caroline^ he dreaded 
 lest she should read in his eyes the happi- 
 ness which the marquis's assurance of her 
 partiality to him could not fail to inspire 
 him with; and he trembled lest he should 
 Appear presumptuous in her sight. His 
 reason informed him he had still many ob- 
 stacles to contend with, for who knew the 
 number of rich and titled suitors which the 
 carl still held in his eye, as dernier resorts ? 
 but his feelings bade him bow only to the 
 fair arbitress of his destiny; and a week had 
 passed since his young friend had bade 
 adieu to the white cliffs of his native shore, 
 ere the major had courage to announce 
 himself as a visitor in St. James's-square, 
 though many a time he had, like the lover- 
 in Shakespeare, 
 
 Sigh'd his soul towards the place 
 Where Jessy lay that night* 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER KEICHBOUE^ WHAT ? 79 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 An unspotted life is old age. EccLt:s:ASTE3, 
 
 During this period of the *' life ofa lover,"" 
 the major was most agreeably surprised by 
 receiving a note from the earl, earnestly 
 requesting the pleasure of his company to 
 dine with them^ saying, '* that he should 
 have had the pleasure of calling upon the 
 major on his first arrival in London, but 
 had been prevented by political engage- 
 ments of the last importance; that he en- 
 treated the major to visit them enfamille^ 
 as frequently as possible ; adding, that In- 
 gleby was very delicate in his health, and 
 so much attached to him, that he had it 
 still in his power to bestow the most im- 
 portant obligations upon a family whc^ 
 were, and must ever remain, eternally his 
 debtors/* 
 
 The major was not long in obeying this 
 summons ; and the profuse thanks of the 
 earl, the delighted fondness of lord Inglehy, 
 
so SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 and the flattering confusion of lady Caro- 
 line, made him complete amends for past 
 anxiety and forbearance ; but he was sin- 
 cerely sorry to find that there was indeed 
 a visible change in the person of that lovely 
 boy, whose life he had only saved from sud- 
 den death, that it might be sapped by slow 
 disease; he was now become taller, but so 
 thin and fragile, as to appear scarcely like 
 a being of earth's grosser mould, while on 
 his transparent cheek sat the hectic bloom, 
 "which assumes the tint of health, while it 
 menaces decay. 
 
 . It was observed by all the party, that 
 Frederic had not appeared in such health 
 and spirits, for a month past, as during the 
 time that major Sedgewood had sat with 
 them, and the major was pressed to return 
 on the morrow; to-morrow and to-mor- 
 row came, and the major was assured that 
 Frederic was better for every visit he made; 
 but the major, in every visit, saw disease 
 making such regular advances, that he was 
 surprised how the earl and lady Caroline 
 could still allow hope to deceive them; 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 81 
 
 alas ! he had forgot that, in his mother's 
 case, the same insidious power had pro- 
 longed her empire over his own heart, al- 
 most to the hour of dissolution ; and they 
 had not, like him, had any previous expe- 
 rience of the peculiar traits of pulmonary 
 consumption. To tear the veil from their 
 eyes would have been equally cruel to 
 themselves and their patient, since it would 
 have been absolutely impossible for them 
 to have attended on him with that cheer- 
 fulness, or amused him with that animation, 
 which was now become the only medium 
 through which affection could benefit its 
 object. Indeed it appears the single bles- 
 sing attending this lamentable disease, that 
 it possesses, almost invariably, the power 
 to cheat both the sufferer and his surround- 
 ing friends into expectations of relief, from 
 an evil they are unable to meet with that 
 steadiness and fortitude demanded from all 
 who attend the sickbed of departing; 
 friends, and particularly those who are cal- 
 led to bid adieu to youth in its most inte- 
 
 £3 
 
82 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 resting form, which is the most frequent 
 case in this disease. 
 
 It was not in the nature of things that 
 major Sedgewood should every day behold 
 that beautiful young creature, to whom he 
 Jiad given a heart as warm, as tender, and 
 as faithful as ever warmed the bosom of 
 any human being, constantly engaged in 
 those tender offices which render woman a 
 aninistering angel below, without finding 
 some moments in which to pour into her 
 car the homage of his soul, which, in these 
 moments of tender anxiety, became doubly 
 dear to her who had already felt the purest 
 emanations of gratitude and esteem. Fre- 
 deric was no stranger to the feelings of 
 cither; and though incapable of judging 
 the extent of the major's sensations for his 
 sister, yer from the love he bore for each 
 party, he judged of what each felt for the 
 other — " I could not bear," said he, men- 
 tally, *' to lose Caroline; every thing she 
 makes me (yes, ladies, seventy years ago 
 an earl's daughter could make a thing for 
 a sick brother) is sa good^ because she sils. 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? S3^ 
 
 by me, and gives it me herself; and even 
 the medicines are not so bad when Caro- 
 line pours them out. Then her voice is so 
 sweet, and she reads to me so pleasantly ; 
 and when she prays by me, I feel assured 
 that God will hear her, she is so pious and 
 good. Altogether, I could do nothing 
 without her ; and the poor major loves her 
 as well as I do ; but she is not his sister, so 
 he had better marry her, as I used to think 
 Blandington would, till we found out she 
 did not like him so well as Sedgewood ; 
 that seems the only way to bring us all to- 
 gether; and I see no reason against It at 
 all; Caroline will always have a title, and 
 the major has,^ in my opinion, got a very: 
 good one.**^ 
 
 In the evening of that day in which these 
 cogitations passed the mind of lord Ingle- 
 by, as these dear objects of his solicitude 
 were sitting nearly opposite the sofa oa 
 which he frequently lay, watching, as they 
 hoped, his gentle slumber, and now and 
 then casting towards each other a look^ m 
 
84 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 which the purest love was mingled with the 
 most cordial respect, he suddenly opened 
 his eyes, and said — " Pray, now, wouldn't 
 you two like to be married ? Why don't 
 you speak ? there's no harm, I suppose, in 
 it; for you know I know all about your 
 love for each other. Well, to be sure, I've 
 been told people in love looked mighty 
 silly; but I had no notion any thing I 
 could have said would have made the major 
 so very queer. There, Caroline, you've 
 ruined your netting, I see you have V* 
 
 Caroline threw the netting on the floor, 
 and escaped out of the room, just as her 
 brother burst into a laugh, and her father 
 entered. To hear Frederic laugh was so 
 delightful to the earl, who had not often 
 had that pleasure lately, of course^ that he 
 sprung forwards, regardless of his blushing 
 daughter, and eagerly inquired, " what 
 had made his dear Ingleby so merry ?" 
 
 *' They are always doing something to 
 make me happy, father," said the youth; 
 " and when they do not, I laugh at their 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 85 
 
 expence. I have been proposing to the 
 major there to marry Caroline, and they* 
 both fell a blushing, so I laughed at them/^ 
 
 " You are, my dear Ingleby, a privi- 
 leged person certainly/' said the earl, con- 
 tracting his brow ; '* but you certainly went 
 beyond even your prerogative here; lady 
 Caroline, I hope, will forgive you on her 
 return ; the major will have the good sense 
 to know that sick boys often talk non- 
 sense/' 
 
 Major Sedgewood foresaw that nothing 
 but flight would save him from either giv- 
 ing or receiving offence ; he was lothe to 
 give the former to the father of Caroline, 
 and the latter he could not receive from 
 even her father; so hastily snatching his 
 hat, he said he was quite happy to leave 
 lord Ingleby so much better, and bowing 
 to the earl, he retired. 
 
 " I shan't be much better long, now he 
 is gone," said the invalid, throwing his lan- 
 guid head again upon his pillow. 
 
 " My dear boy," said the earl, drawing 
 his chair to the sofa, '' surely you v/iil con- 
 
86 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 sider the company of your own father — a 
 father too whose only wish is your indul- 
 gence, a sufficient compensation for that 
 of a stranger ?^' 
 
 " Stranger!'^ exclaimed the boy, again 
 rising indignantly ; " do you call major 
 Sedgewood a stranger ? the man who at the 
 risk of his own life preserved mine- — a 
 stranger ! the man who, for the last three 
 months, has forsaken every pleasure, at a 
 season when pleasure is at its meridian, to 
 sit by my couch, and unite to me the 
 cares of a parent and a brother \" 
 
 Alarmed with the agitation that shook 
 his son's emaciated frame, and the lambent 
 fire that gleamed from his sunken eye, the 
 earl, assuming his most persuasive intona- 
 ticn, said — '' My dear boy, do not agitate 
 yourself in this way; I do not mean to in- 
 sinuate any thing to the major's disadvan- 
 tage ; he is a very respectable gentleman, 
 but yet he is only a private gentleman, you 
 know : and certainly coupling your sister's 
 name with his, the daughter of the earl of 
 Brooksbury with the nephew of a country 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? S7 
 
 baronet, was not exactly as it ought to be. 
 It was an improper jest, my dear, quite im- 
 proper; it vexed me, I confess, and threw 
 me off my guard, and — and — but I am cer- 
 tain you see the impropriety of it." 
 
 " I know very well that many earls^ 
 daughters, and even dukes' daughters, have 
 married Sedgewoods centuries ago, who, 
 you must know, papa, were a family, and 
 a great family, before the Brooksbury 
 name was ever heard of; so I think there 
 is not much in that : perhaps you have not 
 read about them in the baronetage ; but I 
 have; they were a powerful familv in the 
 days of Edward the Confessor, and posses- 
 sed a right in their own domains almost re- 
 gal ; they were called lords Searchwood^ 
 from their right over the immense forests 
 of Fairborough, which name is now, by 
 corruption, become Sedge wood. The con- 
 queror confirmed and increased their pri- 
 vileges : in the days of Stephen they built 
 and fortified a strong castle : Edward the 
 second confirmed their charter of dispens- 
 ing life and death vfithin their owa de- 
 
88 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? , 
 
 mesnes : in the wars of the roses, we find 
 Hugh de Sergewood, and Ralp his son', at 
 the head of " 
 
 A violent fit of coughing checked the 
 youthful orator, and -for a short time sus- 
 pended the earl's attention, when his ex- 
 hausted son laid down, unable to proceed, 
 in what he concluded his father would deem 
 irrefragable proofs of major Sedgewood's 
 worth. That father replied to his foregoing 
 observations, by saying, " that the major's 
 family were certainly unexceptionable; that 
 he was a fine young man, of excellent ad- 
 dress, and might cut a figure in the lower 
 house; but he rather thought his father 
 was poor, very poor; and there was no 
 living without money ; Caroline would 
 have little, very little; and therefore, were 
 he inclined to favour the major's addresses^ 
 he could not see what could be done." 
 
 '* You must help them, father, till I am 
 of age, and then you know I can give them 
 my mother's jointure." 
 
 The earl did not answer, for his surprise 
 was not of the most agreeable nviture. 
 
Says she to her keighbour, what ? 89 
 
 Lord Ingleby mistook his feelings— 
 ** My dear father," said he, '' if you were 
 poor, as I take it Mr. Sedgewood is, I then 
 would do as the major I find does; I would 
 not take my mother's jointure during the 
 life of my father — no not for all the wines 
 in the world ; but as you are very rich, and 
 have only your poor Frederic to provide 
 for, I think I should like to give that to 
 Caroline, who is so good a nurse to me, 
 and to the major, who saved my life/* 
 
 " Who told you the major did this ?" 
 
 *' Lambert, my valet; he comes from 
 Fairborough, and he says he knows it for 
 a fact from the late Mrs. Sedgewood's maid, 
 who overheard her master and the major 
 disputing about it before he bade his fa- 
 ther farewell, and that the major got the 
 better, and would make his father keep the 
 money, at least till he married ; and if ever 
 that took place, w^hich the old man thought 
 not unlikely, he said he would accept of 
 half of it.^' ' 
 
 The earl ruminated some time in a kind 
 of half sad and half sullen silence^ while 
 
90 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGEIBOUR, WHAT ^ 
 
 the lovely pleader, fatigued with exertion^ 
 and still agitated by fear, looked wistfully 
 in the face of that parent who, from his 
 earliest recollection, had never deqied him 
 a request; his good sense pointed out to 
 him an immense difference between his 
 present requisition and any of those things 
 he had hitherto desired ; but yet when he 
 considered the merits of the object, as they 
 appeared in his eyes, he felt the impatience 
 natural to an indulged, and especially a 
 suffering child, to have his reasonable wishes 
 granted; and he gazed upon the earl as 
 if his whole soul were concentered in his 
 eyes, and would take its flight the moment 
 it was repulsed : the earl was unable to 
 bear these ardent glances; he rose, iii- 
 treated Frederic to compose himself, and 
 said he must give the matter very serious 
 attention. 
 
 '' My dear father, I cannot part with 
 you in this suspense : something must be 
 decided, or I perceive that I must see the 
 major no more. Will you allow me to re- 
 call him ? Will you allow him to hope for 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 91 
 
 Caroline? May I flatter myself that the 
 day will come that I shall call him bro- 
 ther?" 
 
 *' No, Frederic, he can never be your 
 brother/' said the earl, in a voice never 
 before assumed to Frederic. 
 
 " Then I shall die," said he, sinking back, 
 with such a deadly paleness of features as 
 appeared already to have verified the pre- 
 diction ; the earl, alarmed, rang for his va- 
 l-et,who entered^ accompanied by lady Caro- 
 line. The earl, though trembling for his 
 son, cast a look of reproachful rage upon 
 his daughter, which informed her but too 
 well of what had been passing betwixt her 
 father and brother; but she forgot her 
 own feelings in the evident sufferings of 
 her now speechless advocate, and flew to 
 administer the usual remedies for exhaus- 
 tion. As soon as Frederic was able to 
 speak, he desired to be put to bed, saying 
 ■ — '' He now felt tliat to be the only place 
 for him." 
 
 A night of increased fever and perturba- 
 tlor. followed this scene, which was increas* 
 
S2 SAYS SKE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 ed by the anguish felt by this most amiable 
 and exemplary boy, for having offended 
 his father, and the self-conviction that he 
 had not submitted as he ought to the pa- 
 rental mandate ; yet when he beheld Caro- 
 line — when he thought of the dear major, 
 he felt as if he had not said a thousandth 
 part of the kind things which flowed to his 
 tongue on their behalf. Universal trepi- 
 dation seized his fi'ame ; the fever whichr 
 had consumed him in the earlier part of 
 the night v;as exchanged for cold shudder- 
 ings, which appeared to his agonized sister 
 the immediate forerunners of death. In 
 great alarm she sent for the physician, and 
 went herself to the apartment of the earl, 
 who, in reply to her information, bitterly 
 reproached her as the occasion of her bro- 
 ther's increased indisposition ; and she re- 
 turned to him bathed in tears, and over- 
 whelmed with a double portion of wretch- 
 edness. 
 
 The report of the medical attendant was 
 precisely what might be expected — some 
 circumstance^ by occasioning mental irrU 
 
SA\S SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUE^ WHAT ? 93 
 
 tability, had increased every bad symptom, 
 which continued through the day follow- 
 ing, in the course of which the weather, 
 which had hitherto been fav^ourable for the 
 complaint, changed to a severe frost, which 
 no artificial warmth could prevent from its 
 usual effects. Before night the earl had 
 acceded to every proposal of his son ; had 
 even dispatched a note in his own hand, in 
 which he had, with wonderful facility, as- 
 cribed the little acidity his manners, though 
 he trusted not his words, had shewn the 
 preceding day, to a vexatious occurrence 
 in the cabinet, and intreated the major 
 would favour his son's couch with another 
 of those visits which never failed to be ef- 
 ficacious; hinting, at the same time, that 
 his visits would be equally agreeable to his 
 daughter and himself; and that so soon as 
 his son's recovery should enable them to 
 speak on more agreeable subjects, he should 
 be happy to do it. 
 
 The major flew to the bedside of his 
 young fnend, shocked to see the ravages 
 Vfhich sorrow, in so short a time, had made 
 
94 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 on his shadowy form. Sweetly Consoling 
 was the view of him to the sufFerlng boy ; 
 and so happy was the effect upon his health, 
 that as soon as he felt the major's hand 
 clasped in his own, he resigned himself to 
 repose, and, after sleeping several hours, 
 awoke apparently invigorated and re- 
 freshed. 
 
 The earl perceived now that this re- 
 doubtable major held the life of his only 
 son, the heir of all the honours of the 
 Brooksbury domains, in his hands, as ef- 
 fectually as he had done when he took the 
 lifeless form from its watery grave, and 
 bestowed upon it a first resurrection ; and 
 as his daughter had lost the title on which 
 he had set his heart in the first instancCj 
 and he concluded a small dower would be 
 sufficient to satisfy the enamoured Sedge- 
 wood, he very prudently made the best of 
 a bad bargain, and allowed the major to 
 enter into all the rights of his son-in-law 
 elect, with the single condition, that lady 
 Caroline must not marry till the restored 
 health of her brother enabled her to do it 
 
saVs she to her neighbour^ what ? 95 
 
 "with propriety — a condition that appeared 
 extremely unnecessary, as she was inca- 
 pable of omitting (by any temptation that 
 affected herself) even the slightest mark of 
 personal attention, and her cares to the 
 sufferer had already extended so far as 
 greatly to affect her own health, and some- 
 times from that cause to awaken extreme 
 solicitude in her lover, though her father 
 appeared utterly to disregard it. 
 
 Bat the days of Frederic were now num- 
 bered, for the little strength he had was 
 exhausted in the conflict with his father, 
 and the calm which followed was sweet, but 
 deceitful ; as if conscious himself of the in- 
 ward change, which he sought to guard 
 from those around him, he omitted no 
 means in his power of giving his sister's 
 engagement the utmost publicity it was 
 capable of ; and never failed informing all 
 those friends of his father whose intimacy 
 warranted their approaching his couch, that 
 the matter was finally settled, and this more 
 especially in his father's presence. The 
 carl was much engaged in politics; and 
 
96 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 while ambition urged him to court power 
 and accumulate riches, he suffered himself 
 not to perceive that the cankerworm was 
 destroying his root, even while his eager 
 hands were plucking laurels to adorn the 
 tree: one evening, on his return from a 
 private audience with his sovereign, which 
 had elevated him beyond measure, he was 
 desired by his servant in waiting to hastea 
 to the chamber of lord Ingleby, who had 
 desired to see him the moment he returned. 
 The pulse of Frederic beat very low, and 
 his eyes had lost that radiance which had 
 lighted their victim to the borders of the 
 grave ; his breathing had been difficult, and 
 major Sedgewood, seated on his bed, sup- 
 ported him in his arms, while lady Caro- 
 line was chafing his cold hands gently be- 
 tween her own : a pensive smile illumed his 
 lovely features as he perceived his father 
 approach his bed, and he stretched out his 
 right hand to receive him. The earl took 
 it in speechless agony, for the sentence of 
 death was written on that face, and it fell 
 like an ice-bolt on the heart of the late 
 
SXYS ^fiS TO HER KElGHfeOUR, X^HAT ? 9^ 
 
 exulting father; gently he raised that cold 
 hand to his parched lips; it was then as 
 gently withdrawn, and pointing directly 
 to the face of Theodore, a faint voice dis- 
 tinctly said — '' Father, behold thy son.*' 
 
 The earl dropt nearly lifeless on his 
 knees by the bedside, and, for the first 
 time in his life, found himself supported 
 and embraced by his daughter; but one of 
 her hands was still retained by Frederic, 
 who made a faint elfort to unite it with the 
 major's ; they perceived his desire, and 
 instantly took each other's hand, on which 
 those of the dying boy were laid ; a faint 
 murmur, as of prayer, was heard to issue 
 from his lips, and an awful silence sat on 
 all around, it ceased; yet in trembling 
 anxiety each waited in breathless expecta- 
 tion, but not a sigh was heard ; and Theo-^ 
 dore found, from the lifeless corse upon 
 his breast, that the pure spirit of this be- 
 loved boy had fled to the presence of lit 
 Creator. 
 
 VOL. I. t 
 
98 SAYS SHE TO HEE KBICHBOUEj WHAT ? 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 He that imposes an oath makes it, 
 
 Not be that for convenience takes it. Hudibras. 
 
 To attempt describing the grief and disap- 
 pointment of the earl at the loss he had 
 sustained is impossible ; it was severely felt 
 by all who had known the amiable object; 
 but the earl had a manner of making all 
 around him participate in his afBictions, 
 which we believe, or at least fear, was not 
 peculiar to his lordship, though nothing 
 could be less calculated to relieve himself; 
 he quarrelled with all around him, and 
 seemed to imagine that the sorrow which 
 stuck to him like the poisoned shirt of 
 Hercules, could only be torn from his own 
 burning skin by plaistering the back of 
 every unfortunate being who came in his 
 v^^ay. His medical, his more immediate 
 attendants, were dismissed with oppro- 
 brium ; and his patient daughter, who had 
 been the most affectionate attendant of her 
 
Says she to her neighbour, what? 99 
 
 dying brother, and would have been the 
 kindest consoler to himself, was the me- 
 dium by which that anj^er, which in fact 
 he nourished against the divine decree, 
 found vent in the most cruel sarcasms or 
 the most bitter invectives; nor would the 
 major have escaped his share of unmerited 
 reproof, had he been in the way to receive 
 it ; but scarcely had he attended the la- 
 mented heir to the house appointed for oil, 
 when he was informed by his father, that 
 finding his health extremely delicate^ he 
 had at length adopted the resolution of re- 
 pairing, with his daughter, to the south of 
 France, and should, in a fev/ days, be in 
 London, on his way thither. 
 
 Filial piety had ever formed too decided 
 a part of the major's character, to allow 
 him to neglect a parent so justly dear to 
 him ; he therefore not only paid the kind- 
 est attention to his father during his stay 
 in London, but accompanied him across 
 the Channel, and so far on his tour as ap- 
 peared necessary to him, and consistent 
 f2 
 
100 &AYS SHE TO HER NEICHBOUB, WHAT ? 
 
 "vith his own engagements in the earl's fa- 
 mily. His prospects there were fully ex- 
 plained;, and delighted the heart of a fa- 
 ther, who was justly proud of a son, whose 
 exaltation appeared to him to be only the 
 natural reward of his superior excellence, 
 for Mr. Sedgewood was literally a country 
 _^entleman of fine taste, retired manners, 
 and nearly as ignorant of the world now, as 
 at the time when he first entered it ; he 
 had himself married a woman whose fortune 
 was much superior to his own, and who, 
 for his sake, had refused many great oifers, 
 and who had to the end of her life persisted 
 in pronouncing herself the happiest of wo- 
 men : this conduct did not excite in Mr. 
 Sedgewood any undue opinion of his own 
 merits; it only decreased his opinion of the 
 influence of riches; and in supposing the 
 earl of Brooksbury gave his daughter freely 
 10 his son, he concluded that the earl was 
 a wise and liberal man ; but he hoped there 
 was nothing new in that : in fact, poor Mr. 
 Sedgewood was an odd man in those days — 
 he is incomprehensible in these. 
 
SAYS SHE TO KER NEIGftBOUR, WHAT ? lO'l 
 
 During major Sedgewood's absence, the 
 carl had tasted of the cup of consolation ; 
 and though it was but a poor draught, yet it 
 was better than nothing ; and that inclinar- 
 tion every human being has to accept any 
 prop in the hour of sinking, induced him 
 to snatch it with eagerness proportioned to 
 his wants. This cup was not presented (o 
 him by the hand of Religion, for she re- 
 quires patience and submission ere she btr- 
 stows the balm of resignation ; nor was it- 
 given by the hand of dutiful afPecfion, 
 whose incessant watchfulness sought to an- 
 suage his sorrows by increasing his com- 
 forts : no ! it came in the shape of the duke 
 of Roverton, who, although neither so 
 spotless as the first, nor so fair as the last;, 
 was more efficacious than either. 
 
 " I condole with you most sincerely, 
 my dear friend/' said the duke, with a mcs0! 
 affectionate squeeze of the hand ; 'M'our 
 loss has been great, aye, very great, I 
 confess." 
 
 The earl was really unable to reply ; ho: 
 could on!y bow — ajid he did. bow. 
 
J 02 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 *^ But your lordship has a daughter^ 
 whose children may perpetuate her father's 
 honours, and who is so lovely, so very 
 charming, that — " 
 
 '' Your grace is pleased to flatter me; 
 the poor girl has the merit of resembling 
 t\\Q features of my son, and that is now the 
 only consolation that is left me/' 
 
 " Then your lordship must allow me 
 to say you are an absolute stranger to your 
 own treasures, whereas I had concluded 
 you were a miser; lady Caroline Ingleby 
 is, in my opinion, a perfect paragon ; I 
 never remember to have seen so beautiful 
 a woman ; yet your lordship and I have 
 seen many fine girls in our time.." 
 
 '' Your grace is many years my junior/' 
 
 '' A mere trifle ; I think we might each 
 of us take a wife, Brooksbury, without 
 being laughed at for old fools by the boys 
 of this day, hey ?" 
 
 " That your grace might do it, there can 
 be no doubt; but on this subject my mind 
 has been made up many years. I shall ne- 
 ver marry again/' 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 103 
 
 The duke had been told as much before, 
 but he wished to be satisfied in this point ; 
 having obtained such satisfaction, he again 
 launched out into praises of lady Caroline's 
 fine person, and withdrew; but leaving 
 behind him a ray of light which cheered 
 the benighted mind of the bereaved earl of 
 Brooksbury. 
 
 Lady Caroline received more attention 
 from her father during their dinner-hour 
 than she ever remembered had fell to her 
 share ; her heart was affected and penetrat- 
 ed by it, and she redoubled her attentions 
 to him; every overture towards familiarity 
 which she ventured to make was received 
 with kindness, and, for the first time, she 
 ventured to whisper to herself, that her 
 father had some affection even for her. 
 She felt the value of this kindness more 
 especially now, on account of the major's 
 absence, and because she had found her fa- 
 ther's austerity increased since her brother's 
 death ; with the eager hopes of youth, she 
 fondly anticipated an entire change in the 
 manners of her parent, and trusted she 
 
10^ SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGIIBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 ahould henceforward supply the sad vacuum 
 in his heart hitherto held by the brothe?, 
 who innocently usurped her rights in addi- 
 tion to his own. 
 
 Several succeeding days passed in the 
 same happy intercourse^ during which the 
 duke of Roverton frequently made a fami- 
 liar call : the manners of his grace, though 
 free, were polite and unexceptionable ; the 
 freedom of that day was chastened by it» 
 formality, and rendered a man at fifty only 
 ^he more agreeable, as he wore then 
 very near as much modest assurance as the 
 boy of this day adopts at fifteen ; the duke 
 was therefore pleasant as a companion to 
 lady Caroline, for his society evidently re^ 
 lieved her father, and was therefore grate- 
 fully enjoyed by her. 
 
 '* Would you like to be a duchess, Ca* 
 Toline ?" said the earl one day to her, sooa 
 after the duke had left them. 
 
 '' I have no desire to be any thing more 
 than a private gentlewoman/' replied hi& 
 daughter. 
 
SATS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 1(15 
 
 '* But you were not born to be r pii- 
 vate gentlewoman." 
 
 *' I was educated for nothing else,, my 
 lord/* 
 
 " Your aunt was an old fool, and put a 
 parcel of humdrum notions into your heaicl 
 ihat it is high time you got quit of. Be- 
 sides, what was very proper for you as a 
 younger daughter, is not any longer so, 
 since you are unhappily become my 
 heiress." 
 
 '* I hope, my dear sir, T shall never dis- 
 grace the name I have the honour to bear; 
 but as my fate is in one sense decided, it 
 is perhaps as well for me that I have no 
 ambition to be a duchess, or any thing ebe 
 inconsistent with probability." 
 
 " Your fate decided ! Really, lady Caro- 
 line Ingleby, you are rather paradoxical--;, 
 how is your fate decided ?" 
 
 With a look of mingled sorrow^ sur- 
 prise, and modesty, the lovely girl fatntly 
 articulated the name of major Sedge^vool^o 
 
 t^ Nonsense, nonsense; you cannot be 
 
 Fa 
 
106 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 SO ridiculous as to suppose that a folly I 
 was obliged to countenance, for the satis- 
 faction of my poor boy, could be consi- 
 dered an engagement. The major himself 
 knows better; his little trip to the conti- 
 nent is a proof that he considers the affair 
 as ending with the dear, unhappy boy who 
 caused it ; and if you have been so weak as 
 to consider it more binding, his absence 
 affords you the opportunity of retrieving 
 your reason, and of convincing me that — *' 
 The earl might have continued, if, at this 
 instant, his speech had not been interrupted 
 by his auditor falling prostrate in a death- 
 like swoon : her features, in this moment 
 of temporary death, so strongly assumed 
 the likeness of his son, that he felt as if the 
 tomb had released him, for the purpose of 
 reproaching his father : in great agitation 
 he summoned his servants, and desired she 
 might be carried to her chamber; nor did 
 he retire to his own till he had visited her, 
 and by the tenderness of his manner make 
 some reparation for the suddenness with 
 
SAY.S SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 107 
 
 v/hich he had opened this first battery 
 against her inclinations and her principles. 
 
 But the breach was made, and every hour 
 that now marked the progress of time, in 
 one way or other, was rendered distressing 
 to lady Caroline : happily the major re- 
 turned, and the first sounds of his voice 
 seemed to dispel the clouds that hung 
 around her; but the alarm he felt, from her 
 pale, dejected countenance, was not soeasily 
 dispersed ; and no sooner had he learned 
 the persecution she was undergoing, than 
 he determined to demand a full and un- 
 equivocal explanation from the earl her 
 father. 
 
 The earl, a little softening down the 
 high tones he had avssumed to his daughter, 
 repeated the substance of his assertions ; 
 and concluded by a courteous hint, that the 
 major's visits would in future be dispensed 
 with, although in any other manner the 
 earl would be most happy to prove his 
 gratitude to major Sedgewood. 
 
 The complete and inefTable contempt 
 visible in the fine countenance of the ma- 
 
iOS SAYS SHE TO HER NJilGHBOURi 'WHAT?? 
 
 jor, as he heard this right honoirfable de- 
 claration, was more forcible than words, for 
 of them Theodore was sparing ; he remem- 
 bered it was the father of Caroline to whoai 
 he spoke, and this remembrance again 
 •cheeked his tongne; but. he nevertheless 
 informed the earl— '^ That the promise he 
 had received from, him b^eing m many in- 
 stances not only tacitly, but positively and 
 repeatedly given (though it might be at 
 the earnest solicitation of lord Ingleby), 
 he should consider i;t as binding, and would 
 certainly call, upon lady Caroline to fulfil 
 her part of it,. the first moment it was in her 
 power. From the earl he should ask no- 
 thing; the man who, day by day, could 
 have countenanced a contract, while he had 
 "been pushing, to the utmost of his power, a 
 bill in parliament, which he knew would 
 suspend, and, as he doubtless hoped, would 
 eventually prevent its fi]lfilment> was not 
 3 man fi'ora whom he could- accept obliga^ 
 lion, even if it were dispensed by a mor 
 ©arch's band.'* 
 Sq Sfiying^ the major withdrew in all th^ 
 
SA'fS SK'E TO IJSR NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 109 
 
 dignity of offended virtue ; and as the laot 
 gJance from his commanding eye beamed 
 on the earl, he felt his own cxjnscious infe- 
 riority so acutely, that even a review of 
 all his titles, and their substantial accom- 
 paniments> failed to restore him to his 
 wonted self-satisfaction. Humbled, yet 
 enraged, he sat down, and, in suspended 
 vengeance, listened the last steps of the 
 major as they fell heavily on the staircase ; 
 when the porter had closed the gates, the 
 earl experienced inslaat relief; he rose, 
 rang the beH, and ordered his daughter into 
 his presence ; but as if doomed to be tor- 
 men ted, she entered so sad, so pale, so woe- 
 begone, that even his right honourable rage 
 was abated by the first glance of her fea>- 
 tures, for they were again those of the dy- 
 ing Frederic ; in a stern voice he bade her 
 go to her room, and send for her physi- 
 cian ; to this she would have replied, bu-t 
 by an imperative motion of his. hand, si>- 
 lence was imposed, and the heart-strickea 
 Caroline retired. 
 
 The earl felt assured that his childrea 
 
110 SAVS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 sidkened and died on purpose to vex him, 
 and he therefore concluded himself the 
 most miserable of all fathers. Extreme 
 misery ever presents the desire of removal ; 
 and the earl therefore gave instant orders 
 for that of his family immediately leaving 
 London, for one of his mansions in the 
 north of England. Great bodies move 
 slowly, and it was not the fashion of that 
 day for coronetted coaches to move with 
 the celerity of mail-coaches; but the earl 
 was seized with a flying mania, and the 
 slowness of his servants* motions, as they 
 appeared to him, served for an admirable 
 excuse for the raging anger in which he 
 now freely indulged. It was doubtless the 
 general opinion of his household, that he 
 was carrying lady Caroline into the country 
 to keep her from eloping with the major, 
 towards which consummation of the affair 
 each was willing to lend a helping hand; 
 and so soon as the earl allowed himself to 
 comment upon the appearance of this sus- 
 picion, he favoured the idea, though he 
 protested he did it for the sake of his 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHEOUH, WHAT ? Ill 
 
 daughter's health. The fact was, thai he 
 had a just reliance upon the delicacy of 
 his daughter's mind, and the firmness of 
 her principles; he knew that ill as he had 
 used her, she would not conceive his un- 
 kindness could justify her disobedience] es- 
 pecially at a time when his heart was still 
 bleeding from the recent loss of her bro- 
 ther; and he was confident that no solici*- 
 tations of the major could induce her to 
 marriage, much less clandestinely, during 
 the period of her mourning. 
 
 When the major arrived at his lodgings, 
 he found that the *' pomp of words," with 
 which he had endeavoured to fortify his 
 heart during his walk home, had left that 
 heart cold, languid, and wretched. The 
 fate of Caroline, meekly enduring for him 
 the cruel taunts and haughty menaces of 
 her father, rose before him, and he felt for 
 a moment as if it were his duty to resign 
 all claims to her that might interfere with 
 her peace: but then should she become 
 another's ? — the thought was agony beyond 
 all human endurance. 
 
M^ SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 To trace the sufferings of each party is 
 utterly out of my power; Caroline^ who 
 eould not be intimidated by the threats of 
 her father, though divided from her lover, 
 and unable to learn his sentiments, farther 
 than as she read them in her own heart, 
 was at length softened by the apparent a6- 
 fiiction of her father. The earl had found, 
 in his own case, the efficacy of a pale face 
 and a sick-bed to make him forego his pur- 
 pose ; he therefore adopted it in turn ; and 
 after declaring that the death of one child, 
 and the obstinacy of the other, would break 
 his heart, he shut himself up in his chan> 
 ber, and denied himself to all but his phy- 
 sician. 
 
 It was well known to the earPs family 
 that he had laboured many years under an 
 inward complaint, which, although not im- 
 mediately dangerous, rendered him incap- 
 able of any extraordinary degree of exer- 
 tion ; that he should suffer, therefore, after 
 a hasty journey, was not in the least de* 
 gree surprising ; nor was it possible thjvt 
 the severe grief, follawed by anger, whi«>k 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEXGHBOURj WHAT ? 1 IS 
 
 of late had agitated the earl, could escape 
 making the ravages common to such com* 
 panions ; and it was therefore no wonder 
 that Caroline's pity and concern were deep- 
 ly excited^ when, after her services had 
 been repeatedly rejected, she was at length 
 admitted to the sick-bed of her father. 
 
 Affliction appeared to have softened 
 every hars^ier emotion in the earl ; he ad- 
 dressed his child with great tenderness, and 
 without adverting to the past, seemed only 
 anxious to ensure her tenderness for what 
 he called the short remnant of his future 
 days; he even condescended to lament 
 that he had not hitherto been so kind a 
 parent as he ought to have been ; and said, 
 in a tone of the most distressing self-re- 
 proach, that Heaven had punished him by 
 a stroke which had been at once his scourge 
 and his cure, by opening his eyes, to tlnj 
 blessing which was left to him in a kind and 
 tender daughter. 
 
 The earl seldom spoke of heaven ; and 
 his daughter, while deeply penetrated with 
 grief for his sorrow, heard with pious joy 
 
1 14 SAYS SHE TO HEK NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 that his heart was thus led by affliction to 
 look to the hand that in mercy had chas- 
 tised him; she endeavoured to assure him 
 of her love and duty, and entreated him 
 to permit her to become his constant at- 
 tendant. 
 
 By degrees the tender heart of his child 
 was drawn towards him, by a confidence 
 rendered sweeter from the new sensations 
 it inspired ; and at the moment when the 
 earl perceived that h-er pity for his suffer- 
 -ings, and her sense of obedience to his 
 will and love for his person, were all most 
 strongly melting her heart and disposing 
 it to his views, he once more mentioned 
 the tacitly-proscribed name of major Sedge- 
 wood, and in the most soothing tones he 
 could assume, besought her to relinquish a 
 connexion which was altogether improper 
 for her, and which would destroy her fa- 
 ther. 
 
 Lady Caroline said she considered herself 
 bound by the most solemn ties to consider 
 major Sedgewood her future husband ; but 
 she did not wish to precipitate her union ; 
 
SAVS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 115 
 
 she would, if possible, reconcile her love 
 for the major with that she felt for her 
 father, and — 
 
 " Then,'* exclaimed the ear], with an 
 anxious impatience, which, by agitating 
 his frame, inspired the mind of lady Caro* 
 line with the most alarming ideas for his 
 health, " promise me that you will not 
 marry Sedgewood till he is in possession of 
 his uncle's title : — a short, perhaps a verij 
 short time may suffice for this ; and during 
 the interim, my mind will have inured it- 
 self to contemplate the subject, and, should 
 I be spared so long, to endure, nay, even 
 to rejoice in it. Sir Charles Sedgewood is 
 older than me, and they tell me terribly 
 afflicted with the gout.'* 
 
 Caroline was silent : a vague recollection 
 passed her mind of having heard one of the 
 servantS'Say to another, that he had heard 
 bad news of sir Charles Sedgewood ; it was 
 the Yorkshireman formerly mentioned ; 
 the words caught her ear as he was deliver- 
 ing some soup that morning to the earl's 
 own valet ; this she concluded was the more 
 
116 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 immediate cause of the earl's entreaty, as 
 it was not improbable that the name of 
 Sedgewood reaching his ear had induced 
 Mm to make those inquiries she did not 
 feel authorized to do, when the words were 
 uttered at the earl's chamber door in the 
 morning; this request did not therefore 
 appear unnatural or constrained in the 
 earl, and the beseeching look with which 
 it was reiterated entirely subdued her ; yet 
 neither unmindful of her promise to Theo- 
 dore, nor unmoved by the painful image 
 of prolonged absence, already so irksome 
 and heart-wounding as she had found it, 
 she answered by saying — '' But will yon 
 then, my lord, promise not to oppose my 
 union, and promise in a way that it is im^ 
 possible to retract ?" 
 
 " Alas!" said the earl, '" short as that 
 time may be, Caroline, from what I now 
 feel there is little probability that my con- 
 sent will then be wanting, I shall then 
 sleep with my poor boy, and the last 
 Brooksbury will be forgotten. But if it 
 will satisfy you^ my love, I will take th^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 117 
 
 most solemn oath, in that case, to sanction 
 your union." 
 
 The nearer the earl approached the goal 
 at which he was aiming, the more terrible 
 became the trepidation he experienced ; 
 his bosom heaved with convulsive sobs; 
 his anxious eyes appeared starting from 
 their sockets, and his cheeks assumed an 
 ashy paleness ; with the most dreadful so- 
 lemnity he called on God to witness the 
 oath he made, and pour on his devoted 
 head the vials of his wrath, if, in one jot or 
 tittle, he deviated from his awful promise* 
 Having spoken, the earl, seizing the hand 
 of his trembling daughter, called upon her 
 to repeat his words. 
 
 Lady Caroline faintly articulated — " tt 
 was impossible.'* 
 
 " Wretch ! accursed wretch ! canst thou 
 see thy parent thus supplicating thee for a 
 momcnVs peace — a transitory cordial to his 
 agonized heart, and in such a moment as 
 this deny it him ? Then may the last ac- 
 cents of thy only parent meet thy ears to 
 
118 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 blast thee and the husband thou hast cho- 
 sen ! may — *' 
 
 The horrible countenance the earl as* 
 sumed in this moment of terrible transition 
 from sorrow to rage, blended in it all that 
 was appalling in death and diabolical in 
 madness; the terrified girl, sinking on her 
 knees, motioned him for a moment's re- 
 spile ; he ceased, and received the ago- 
 nized accents which bespoke the dreadful 
 promise he had dictated ; but nature could 
 go no farther; and the moment this dread- 
 ful effort was passed, she sunk breathless 
 on the floor. 
 
 A dreadful pang shot through the heart 
 o^ the earl, and a cold sweat bedewed his 
 forehead ; the end he had so ardently la- 
 boured to attain was arrived, yet the joy 
 he had promised himself followed not his 
 success; so terrible were the sensations he 
 experienced, that for some minutes he 
 doubted whether the hand of that awful 
 monarch with whose name and terrors he 
 had been taking such unwarrantable liber- 
 
SAVS SITE TO HER NEIGHBOUR;, WHAT ? 119 
 
 ties was not rcallij upon him, and the con- 
 sciousness that such a fact would be the 
 just retribution for his dissimulation ; for 
 although he had really suffered to a certain 
 degree, and was thought by some of his 
 attendants, besides his own daughter, to 
 be in a bad way, such a thought had never 
 entered his own head; for dying was, of 
 all others, the thing to which he had an 
 insuperable objection ; and on that solemn 
 night when he was called to witness the 
 last moments of his son, the face of death, 
 though drest in angel smiles to that meek 
 soul, was a source of as much distress to 
 the earl as even (he eternal separation to 
 which it condemned him. 
 
 The moment he was able to summon his 
 fellow-creatures about him, the earl felt 
 relieved, for they seemed in some degree 
 to banish the consciousness of that all-see- 
 ing eye which alone had witnessed his late 
 conference ; he gave immediate orders for 
 the removal of lady Caroline, and told his 
 valet and housekeeper to remain with him, 
 and endeavour to amuse him. 
 
120 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ^ 
 
 Lady Caroline "was soon restored, and on 
 being left to the composure of her own 
 chamber, and to the liberty of prayer and 
 meditation, she was enabled to find some 
 consolation, under the idea that she had sa- 
 tisfied her father's mind, without destroy* 
 ing her own hopes of eventual happiness* 
 vShe could not reflect without horror on 
 the turbulent and vindictive passions which 
 had swayed her father's breast at that awful 
 period when he appeared likely to he call- 
 ed to the bar of heaven ; and she fondly 
 hoped that now she had appeased these un- 
 holy fires, by a submission which had cost 
 her so very dear, a happier frame of tem- 
 per would arise ; and that her hand might 
 be appointed to lead her returning father 
 to the throne of grace, during that period 
 when she had not any other claimant on 
 her cares ; she trusted that a tender corres- 
 pondence with her Theodore would now 
 be permitted to her, and would relieve the 
 pangs of absence, and the sickness which 
 arises from hope deferred; and that al- 
 though joy was denied to her, yet re* 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER Is'EIGHBOtrR, WHAt > 191 
 
 ^ignation would soften the thorns of het 
 sorrow. 
 
 The day following, to her gteat surprise 
 and comfort, the earl quitted his room, and 
 requested her company to take a short air- 
 ing. Ashe was so much better, lady Ca- 
 roline conceived the design of finding, 
 from some of the servants, what had been 
 the nature of the bad news respecting sir 
 Charles Sedgewood ; but on questioning 
 the earl's valet, he positively denied having 
 received any communication, and the ser- 
 vant whom she had heard speak to him was 
 sent to Hampshire. Confident as to what 
 she had h-eard, it immediately struck her 
 that sir Charles Sedgewood was really dead^ 
 and the silence of the major confirmed her 
 in the idea; for although she knew that 
 every person in the house had been strictly 
 charged on no consideration to bring her 
 a letter or message, yet as she had, during- 
 the first weeks of their parting, received 
 several kind mementoes from her lover, she 
 still hoped that she could only be prevent^ 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 ed from doing so by some extraordinary 
 circumstance. 
 
 While these things crossed her mind, she 
 remembered, for the first time, that the 
 life of the major's father must intervene 
 between his possession of the title and the 
 death of his uncle, and her heart recoiled 
 at the promise she had given, since it had 
 made the happiness of her lover incom- 
 plete, till the death of a parent he had ever 
 tenderly loved ; but even on this subject 
 hope still whispered peace; she had heard 
 so much said of the character of Mr. Sedge- 
 wqod, that she could not help hoping he 
 would resign his rights in favour of a son 
 so singularly situated, and so fondly be- 
 loved. 
 
 While lady Caroline was thus fondly 
 building hope on the wreck of happiness, 
 the duke of Roverton arrived, as he said, 
 on a visit to the earl, of whose health he had 
 heard the most alarming accounts, he said, 
 and was therefore unable to deny himself 
 the satisfaction of personal inquiry. His 
 grace was by no means an unwelcome vi- 
 
SAVS SHE TO HER NEIGHEOtJR, WHAT ? 12S 
 
 sitor to lady Caroline ; for as he was be- 
 come of late so much the bosom friend of 
 her father^ she concluded he would soon 
 hear all that had passed on the subject of 
 her engagement; and of course concluded, 
 if he had ever been weak enough to think 
 of marrying such a girl as her, that his 
 hopes being completely cut off, it was 
 foolish to give her the trouble of refusing 
 him. 
 
 Contrary to her expectations, however, 
 the duke lost no opportunity of paying 
 her the most courtly attention, yet without 
 making any immediate advances ; this con- 
 duct in a short time lulled all her fears, and 
 his society became pleasant to her; she be- 
 gan to hope he would become her friend, 
 and that through him she should again hear 
 of the major, whose letters she was con- 
 vinced were intercepted. At this period 
 only one newspaper found its way to the 
 mansion of the earl, and it did not contain 
 any of those important informations rela- 
 tive to the world of fashion which could 
 
124 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 satisfy her inquiries; so that she sometimes 
 fancied he was gone to France, sometimes 
 that he was attending his dying uncle, and 
 sometimes that he was hovering near her, 
 but was unable to see her ; she never, how- 
 ever, doubted that he continued unshaken 
 in his fidelity, unchanged in his affection. 
 
 One morning, just after breakfast, the 
 duke having received his letters, which he 
 begged permission to open in her presence, 
 expressed some surprise, by the usual ex- 
 clamations of, '' Umph ! surprising ! who 
 wpuld have thought it !" as he perused one 
 of them ; on which the earl observed — '" I 
 am glad to see your grace amused by your 
 correspondent's information of this morn- 
 mg. 
 
 *' I am so, indeed; *tis a droll account 
 of the wedding of a Yorkshire baronet, 
 with an account of his bride's parapherna- 
 lia, and the provision made for the ten 
 children she expects to have, though the 
 youthful bridegroom has seen fifty-five; 
 but he is a fine hale fellow, save a smack 
 of the gout, which indeed will lengthen 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 125 
 
 Ilis life. I don't wonder at the girl taking- 
 him, for he was thought devilish handsome 
 at college ; we used to say sir Charles^ 
 Sedgewood was the Yorkshire Apollo." 
 
 Lady Caroline did not faint; she rose 
 from her chair, and left the room with a 
 stately step and a majestic countenance; 
 but when she arrived in her own apartment, 
 the nerve that appeared to have sustained 
 her gave way, and she sunk upon the floor 
 in a state to which insensibility would have 
 been a blessed relief. Was this then the 
 *' had news" the honest man, anxious for 
 the major's welfare, had communicated, 
 and which had led her father to adopt a 
 system of the most refined treachery, the 
 most barbarous meanness, that was ever 
 acted on a tender heart, in the very mo- 
 ment toawhen that heart was bleeding for 
 his wounds, and willing to sacrifice its hap- 
 piness to his prejudices ? Yes, it was too 
 plain that she had been the victim of a 
 scheme; and she had no doubt but her 
 Theodore was in some situation suffering, 
 at leastj anxiety equal to her own. The 
 
1^26 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 sense of the deep injustice she sustained 
 awoke indignation, which for a short time 
 overcame the sense of sorrow, and made 
 her determine^ at all risks, to learn the fate 
 of her " bosom's lord;'* her pure ingenu- 
 ous mind, which would hitherto have scorn- 
 ed the idea of tampering with the integrity 
 of a servant, or even disobeying the im- 
 plied will of her parent, now felt as if the 
 ties that bound her were all dissolved, save 
 that awful bond, which was the register 
 heaven held, as the renunciation of her 
 happiness, and of her father's honour. — 
 Artless as she was, she could not doubt but 
 a scheme existed between her designing 
 parent and the duke, which she apprehend- 
 -ed the late suavity of her manners towards 
 a man whose age made her naturally look 
 up to him for protection, had induced 
 them to develop more speedily than they 
 had first intended. Her conjecture was not 
 wrong; for after giving a few hours to 
 what they conceived would suffice for the 
 workings of disappointment, in a mind 
 which they hoped was already xweaned by 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER J^EIGHBOUR, WHAT? 127 
 
 absence from its object, she received a let- 
 ter from the duke, making her a most 
 splendid offer of his hand, and such ar- 
 rangements for her future appearance in 
 life as were calculated/ in his eyes, to awa- 
 ken at least her ambition, which he had 
 found, in many women, a passion not un- 
 commonly built on the ruined structure of 
 disappointed love. 
 
 Lady Caroline was by nature meek, and 
 from principle humble and obedient ; but 
 her mind was strong, and her feelings ex- 
 quisitely acute. The youthful predilection 
 '^vhich circumstances had led her to form 
 with a handsome and accomplished man,. 
 had been, on her second intimacy witli 
 him, confirmed by her admiration and es- 
 teem for his many virtues ; and when at 
 length it had received her parent's sanc- 
 tion, had become, in habit as well as sen- 
 timent, so interwove with every idea of 
 her mind, and feeling 'of her heart, that it 
 became a part of her existence. In the 
 presence of her dying brother, she had, for 
 his satisfaction, given and received the 
 
2^8 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBG-Ufi^ WHAT ? 
 
 most tender, and to her most solemn, as- 
 surances of fidelity; and althotigh she had 
 been led to delay the fulfilment of actual 
 marriage, in obedience to her father's re- 
 quest, yet the idea of even his daring to 
 absolve the contract had not entered her 
 mind. As she read and re-read the letter 
 af the duke, every passion that could agi- 
 tate a human being rose to her mind, and 
 agitated her almost to frenzy : at some mo- 
 ments she felt that she should be justified 
 in flying to the major, wherever he miglit 
 be found, and in beseeching him to place 
 her under the care of his father in France j 
 but her total ignorance of his situation 
 precluded this plan, which her delicacy 
 condemned, while her anger and her love 
 approved it: while these thoughts rushed 
 to her brain, she was interrupted in her 
 reverie by a letter from her father, in which 
 he not only urged her to accept, with all 
 due gratitude,^ the noble offer of his friend, 
 the duke of Roverton, but begged to in- 
 form her, that major Sedgewood was al- 
 ready acquainted that such had beea hsv- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEFGH-BOUR, WHAT ? ISO 
 
 cletermination, in consequence of whicix 
 he had left the kingdom, and would pro- 
 bably ere this have reconciled himself to 
 any trifling disappointment he had receiv- 
 ed, by the selection of some more suitable 
 bride. 
 
 *' Left the kingdom !" exclaimed Caro* 
 line, as her eye flashed over the detested 
 characters, " left the kingdom, under an 
 impression of my falsehood ! — Infamous! 
 oh, most infamous duplicity ! — Where is 
 the earl — the earl of Brooksbury I mean, 
 for I have no longer a father ? — Tell me, I 
 say, where can I find the earl ?** 
 
 The servant to whom this question was 
 addressed was so thunderstruck byv the \m^ 
 perious tone in which it was uttered, by 
 lips that till now were never opened but in 
 gentleness, and still more so by the look 
 of agonizing sorrow which accompanied 
 them, that he could scarcely answer ;. Hut- 
 when lady Caroline exclaimed — "Where 
 shall I And him ?/' it immediately, struck 
 ths man that it was his duty not to permit: 
 
ISO SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT? 
 
 her approach at this time to the earl^ as he 
 had perceived the family of lord Egerton 
 approaching the breakfast-parlour as he 
 left it with the letter; and knowing the 
 estimation of that excellent family, not 
 only in his lord's house, but every other 
 ivhere they were known, he justly con- 
 cluded that it would be particularly desi- 
 rous to prevent their witnessing the pre- 
 sent situation of lady Caroline. In most 
 respectful terms he mentioned lord and 
 lady Egerton's arrival, with their son, the 
 "honourable colonel Saville, and two visi- 
 tants of theirs; he therefore presumed her 
 ladyship had better not descend inlo the 
 breakfast-parlour immediately. 
 
 *' I have been long surrounded by de- 
 mons,'* said lady Caroline exultingly, ''hut 
 I now rush to the presence of assembled 
 angels;" so saying she fled past the man, 
 tvbom an united sentiment of terror and 
 compassion prevented from detaining her,, 
 and with the letters of the duke and the 
 earl in her hand, ran impetuously into the 
 "breakfast-parlour, where the party were 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT r^ 131 
 
 seated, and were at that moment making 
 the tenderest inquiries after her health. 
 
 The wild and haggard air that agitated 
 her whole frame, the deadly paleness and 
 alternate flushes of her countenance, and* 
 the manner in which she held the letters^ 
 her total absence of all forms of good man- 
 ners, as they were held at that day, petri- 
 fied and shocked the whole group, who 
 imagined she was seized with sudden mad- 
 ness, as they could in no other manner 
 account for an appearance so singularly op- 
 posed to that she had ever exhibited, which 
 was meek and retiring, even to timidity ; 
 but every feeling was now absorbed in one, 
 and rushing forward to lady Egerton, she 
 dropt on her knees before her, and seizing 
 her hands, which she pressed to her fore- 
 head and her heart, she exclaimed — '' Oh, 
 lady Egerton ! dear, excellent lady, the 
 friend of my mother and my aunt, have 
 mercy upon me, I beseech you ; I have 
 no longer a mother or a friend, in the 
 wide, wide world I" 
 
 The earl, astonished and confounded^ 
 
1S2 SA^&SHE TO HER NEIGHBQUR^ WrIA.'C>?' 
 
 flew tavvards his daughter^ endeavouring 
 to raise her^ and to apologize for a^ con- 
 duct equally novel and indeeorouS;^ and 
 ivhich^ he protested *' it was utterly Out of 
 liis power to comprehend ;" but the high- 
 brought feelings of a mind so completely 
 lyounded beyond its power of endurance, 
 •were not now to be restrained by common 
 "barriers;, the agitation she endured rose 
 almost to frenzy, and assumed the com- 
 manding mien of madness, blended with the 
 deepest subjugation of distress. In a tone 
 of despair, and with that striking energy 
 of language which is given by the inspira- 
 tion of sorrow and injur,y, she briefly r^ 
 capitulated the most striking circumstances, 
 attendant on her connexion with major 
 Sedgewood, the manner in which she had 
 been induced by her father solemnly to 
 postpone her engagement with, him until 
 his possession of the family honours, and 
 lyhiph she now saw was, a mean advantage 
 t^ken of her feelings,, in a moment whea 
 Ber heart yielded to the dictates, of duty 
 and affection^ ar^d which h^d doublless 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 13-5 
 
 been represented to her lover in such a 
 manner as to induce him to consider her 
 worthless and perjured, and to fly from a 
 country she had rendered hateful to him. 
 In concluding this striking appeal to their 
 feelings, she again fell upon her knees, 
 and wiih uplifted hands besought the great 
 Buler of heaven and earth again to register 
 that vow which indissolubly pronounced 
 her the wife of Theodore^ and of him 
 alone, hovsever separated; and repeated the 
 horrible invocation she had so lat.ely learnt, 
 if she dared to become the wife of another. 
 The earl and the duke, in equal astonish- 
 ment, gazed at each other, and felt how 
 completely '' a plain tide could put them 
 down," though from a '' puling girl," 
 while the tenderest compassion and ths 
 most, ardent indignation by turns affected 
 the hearis of the rest of the party. Lord 
 Egerton was the father of one amiable son, 
 whom he had often wished to see the fa- 
 voured lover of lady Caroline but whose 
 professional engagements had kept hin^ 
 from se<^ing her, till his heart had fori^ed 
 
13^4 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGITBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 another attachment, equally worthy, thowgh 
 not yet declared to the world. He, toge- 
 ther with his lady, had often visited the 
 sick couch of lord Frederic Ingleby, and 
 were well acquainted with the engagement 
 of his sister; and though they knew too 
 well the probable change of the earl's con- 
 duct towards the major, yet they could not 
 suspect that it would have led him such 
 dishonourable lengths, since it appeared to 
 them that he had not only destroyed the 
 peace, but unsettled the reason of his only 
 daughter, for whom they were so truly 
 sorry, that lady Ejjerton entreated lady Ca- 
 roline's return with her as a means for tran- 
 quillizing her spirits: the earl had not the 
 power to refuse ; for the consciousness that 
 lord Egerton must learn, and would detest 
 his conduct, stripped him at once of the 
 proud superiority of rank he held, and 
 Hiade him timid, meek, and conciliating, 
 even though the duke, his friend, stood at 
 his right hand — such is the dignity of vir- 
 tue. 
 
 Before lady Caroline had reached Thorp 
 
SAYS SHE TO ITETl NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 135 
 
 Hal], the mansion of her new protectors, 
 lady Egerton trembled lest she had been 
 too precipitate in removing her; she be- 
 came evidently more feverish and ill every 
 moment; and it was found necessary to 
 send for a physician immediately on their 
 arrival, who no sooner saw her than he 
 pronounced her in a most alarming state 
 of fever. 
 
 For several weeks a dreadful delirium 
 disturbed thfe senses of lady Caroline, and 
 a consuming disease wasted her frame ; of- 
 ten did her soul tremble on her pale lips, 
 as if ready and anxious to take its flight to 
 that fair spirit which had preceded her, and 
 whose beckoning hand her frenzied fancy 
 told her was ever luring her away. Yet 
 still an idea of her lover, entreating her to- 
 return and live for him, seemed to intrude 
 on the departing spirit^ and delay its flight- 
 At these moments she would sometimes 
 pour out such unpremeditated strains of 
 harmony in irregular verse, suited to the 
 feelings of the moment, as astonished, de- 
 lighted, and yet harrowed the heart of 
 
156 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOtTRj WHAT ? 
 
 every one who approached her, but gave 
 her an interest in the bosoms of h^r friends, 
 which uas as powerful as her claims^ and as 
 tender as her heart, and which death only 
 had the power to dissolve. 
 
 During this melancholy period, the earl 
 paid those occasional visits to Thorp Hall 
 which decency called for on his daughter's 
 account, and which he wished to improve 
 to his advantage,: by inducing a belief that 
 she was actuallv in. a stat^ of madness when 
 she threw herself on the protection of lady, 
 Egerton ; and that her accusations of him, 
 the extraordinary, oath she took, and the 
 entire change of character which took place 
 in her that morning, were all corrobora- 
 tions of this melancholy truth. Lord and 
 lady Egerton readily admitted that delirium 
 was indeed visible in their young friendi 
 but there was at that time method in hej? 
 madness, v^hich spoke from whence it 
 sprung ,v and giving the two letters into 
 the earPs hand, which his daught^ry in he^ 
 confusion, had still reained open in he? 
 hand, on leayiag home^ they remained, si? 
 
Says she to iieh neighbour^ what? 137 
 
 lent, thus giving him a proof that they 
 %vere not deceived as to the causes of his 
 daughter's iHness, and yet not affording him 
 a pretext for discontinuing his visits, and 
 allowing the claims of his child. 
 
 Youth, aided by tenderness and skill, 
 overcame the fever under which lady Ca- 
 roline suffered; and dreadfully as she was 
 reduced, her friend had the sweet satisfac- 
 tion to perceive that some degree of 
 strength was restored to her languid frame, 
 and that her mind, to a certain degree, re- 
 gained its poW'Crs; iDut a deep and settled 
 jnelancholy pervaded her once-animated 
 features; she never spoke farther than by 
 monosyllables, in answer to her friends; 
 and the only signs she gave of recognising 
 those she had pleasure in seeing, was by a 
 smile so melancholy, that it seemed like the 
 blossom of affection springing from the 
 root of despair. It was the opinion of the 
 good physician who attended her, that her 
 memory was perfectly restored, and her 
 judgment unimpaired ; and that whenever 
 she obtained the power of weeping fveel^ 
 
13S SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 over her sorrows, and of speaking of major 
 Sedgewood, the most salutary elTects might 
 be expected ; and he therefore wished her 
 to remain ever under the immediate eye of 
 lady Egerton, as the only person to whom 
 her grateful heart and gentle nature would 
 ever be enabled to speak in confidence. 
 He likewise recommended travelling as 
 likely to amuse her,* and particularly re- 
 quested that she might not return to the 
 house, or especially not visit the apart- 
 ment where her mind had received the 
 shock that first overpowered it. To these 
 propositions the earl made no objection ; 
 he had no inclination to perceive a dumb 
 statue at his table, whose silence spoke vo- 
 lumes to his recollection; and he readily 
 ^and politely closed with lady Egerton's pro- 
 position that she should remain her guest; 
 and as she proposed travelling on her ac- 
 count, he readily accorded every facility 
 within his power; and this point once set- 
 tled, the earl having quite as little taste 
 for his present residence as the invalid her* 
 self could have, he quitted the country foj: 
 
SAYS SHE. TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 139 
 
 the metropolis, whcre^ in the bustle ofpo- 
 liticSj he endeavoured to lose the sense of 
 his double disappointment ; but he found 
 his health at times so extremely indifferent 
 that he was obliged to yield to its demands; 
 but, alas ! his sick pillow was strewn with 
 thorns; and at these times when he most 
 courted repose, he most sensibly found it 
 was fled from him for ever. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Oh! let mc join 
 
 Grief to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. PoPF. 
 
 One of the visitors of lord Egerton, on that 
 eventful day which had drawn him to the 
 earl of Brooksbury's, was well acquainted 
 with the character of major Sedgewood, 
 and was not personally unknown to him ; 
 this gentleman (sir Thomas Frankland) was 
 a gay young man, but possessed humanity 
 and honour; the scene he witnessed severe* 
 
140 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 ly affected him ; and as it was impossible 
 for him to convej^ any assistance to the 
 suffering lady, who was soon after declar- 
 ed to be in the most imminent danger, and 
 as to do nothing is a case the young and ac- 
 tive find too difficult to engage in, he de- 
 termined, if possible, to find out major 
 Sedgewood, give him the particulars which 
 had come under his own notice, and assist 
 him in bringing the earl to account ; though 
 in what way this could be done the ardent 
 baronet was not well able to imagine, all 
 things considered, he confessed. 
 
 As major Sedgewood had not been seea 
 in London since the time when the earl of 
 Brooksbury had quitted it so suddenly, it 
 ■was generally believed that he had follow- 
 ed his father to France, where the unex- 
 pected marriage of his uncle would, by 
 completely disgusting him with his Eng- 
 lish connexions, induce him to remain, 
 unless the situation of his country occa- 
 sioned his presence professionally : on the 
 strength of this information, sir Thomas ac- 
 tually set off for Nice, where h^ learnt M?^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUP^ WHAT ? 141 
 
 Sedgewood resided ; at Amiens he met with 
 the marquis of Rlanclinoton ; and as Eng- 
 lishmen are always glad to m^*er with each 
 other, though but slightly acquainted in 
 England, (from the extreme youth of the 
 marquis), yet a considerable intimacy ensu- 
 ed; and the baronet^ in the course of con- 
 versation, mentioned his intention of pur- 
 suing his journey to Nice with all possible 
 expedition, as he was anxious to meet 
 major Sedge wood there. 
 
 ^' I will go with you to the Antipodes, 
 if the sight of the major will reward my 
 toil V exclaimed the marquis; '' but what 
 is the lucky rogue doing there ? This is 
 the time, or nearly so, that he ought to be 
 at home, performing an enraptured bene- 
 dict's duties." 
 
 The baronet, glad to find a person ac- 
 quainted with the engagement, related all 
 he knew of the affair, and saw, with sur- 
 prise, the terrible impression it made on 
 his youthful auditor, who swore, sung, 
 raved, and stormed alternately, in a man- 
 ner that proved how nearly his own heart 
 
142 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 was still interwoven with all that affected 
 Caroline. They set out together for Nice ; 
 but on their arrival found that Mr. Sedge- 
 wood was at present a stranger to the place 
 where his unhappy son resided ; all the 
 letters he had received from him for many 
 months had indicated marks of a disturbed, 
 unhappy mind, but had imparted his sor- 
 row in too general terms to enable his 
 anxious parent to judge of its nature, far- 
 ther than to surmise that it was a tender 
 disappointment. Sir Thomas related, of 
 course, all that had come under his know- 
 ledge, and the warm interest he took in 
 the affair, which was, indeed, sufficiently 
 evident from the long journey he had taken 
 to serve a man to whom he was personally 
 unknown. He now began to repent his 
 own folly, in not making those inquiries 
 after the major which a less impetuous tem- 
 per would have pointed out as indispensi- 
 ble, acknowledging that he had only set 
 out for France on the strength of general 
 report, and that it was probable the major 
 might be visiting his native county at the 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 143 
 
 Tery time the circles of fashion had sent 
 him to Nice. 
 
 " That, I am certain/* replied Mr. Sedge- 
 wood, " cannot possibly be the case, as 
 my brother declares he has married be- 
 cause all his family were dispersed, and he 
 was lost for want of a friend. Poor man,'* 
 he continued, "" the wife he has taken is 
 little likely to supply his loss, further than 
 as she will be a good nurse to him when 
 he is laid up by the gout ; and as she is our 
 distant relation, a person his own equal in 
 years, and much attached to Theodore, I 
 regret that the state of his mind has been 
 oUch as to prevent his visiting those whose 
 cordial sympathy at least would not have 
 been wanting ; for though my new sister 
 is a woman of few words and confined no- 
 tions, she has a good understanding and a 
 feeling heart." 
 
 '' Infamous plotters!'' exclaimed sir 
 Thomas, as he recollected the circumstance 
 lady Egerton had mentioned, of the duke's 
 letter containing an account of this wed- 
 
IM SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ^ 
 
 ding, and which had escaped lady Caroline 
 in her wanderings, with a chain of circum- 
 stance too regular to be deemed the effu- 
 sion of delirium^, and which she had there- 
 fore communicated to her family. 
 
 This incident, added to his vexation on 
 rejecting on the wild-goose- chase he had 
 taken, made sir Thomas resolve to return 
 as suddenly as he came ; although Mr. 
 Sedgewood gave it as his decided opinion, 
 that the report of his son's travelling was 
 true, it being now near two months since 
 he had received a letter from him ; that it 
 was probable he had gone into Switzer- 
 land, as it was a place for v/hich he had 
 an uncommon predilection ; and he now 
 hoped he should hear from him soon, as 
 he never failed to write when it was pos- 
 sible ; therefore he could not rationally as- 
 sign any other reason for not having re- 
 ceived his letters, than those which may be 
 accounted for from change of situation. — 
 '' Theodore," said the fond father, " has a 
 mind too regulated to allow any grief to 
 
!SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 145 
 
 afflict the friends who love him, farther 
 than as they participate, by sympathy, in 
 his sorrows." 
 
 *' Ah ! 'tis fine talking,'' cried the baro- 
 net, *' of minds being attempered, when 
 such a mind as they tell me this sweet girl 
 possessed is thrown off the hinges. By Hea- 
 ven ! if your son is not as mad as her, I shall 
 regret running after him ; but if he Z5, I 
 shall g^ory in him-— he shall command my 
 fortune and my life.** 
 
 Tears of gratitude bedimmed the eyes of 
 Mr. Sedgewood as he shook sir Thomas's 
 hand at parting ; he would willingly have 
 returned to England with them, but from 
 the conviction he felt that his son was 
 really journeying on the continent, and 
 that he should shortly hear from him, and 
 that at any hazard it was desirable that his 
 inquiries should be pursued in France> 
 while sir Thomas was kindly searching for 
 his son in England ; and that such search 
 might be made with more effect, he pre- 
 sented the baronet with various letters of 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 SAYS SHE to HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 introduction to his brother, and other 
 friends of the family. Thus provided, this 
 generous volunteer in the cause of an un- 
 known friend was desirous of leaving Nice 
 as soon as possible, to which the marquis 
 of Blandington observed — '' He could not 
 possibly object ; but as he had made no 
 bargain to return with him, and found him- 
 self extremely happy where he was, (save 
 the anxiety he felt for his friend, the ma- 
 jor, and still more that which touched his 
 heart for lady Caroline, ) and as his tutor 
 had no objection, he purposed remaining 
 there some months longer/' 
 
 Sir Thomas Frankland perceived that the 
 daughter of Mr. Sedgewood had at least di- 
 vided the heart of this amiable youth with 
 her brother ; but as she was a very lively^ 
 engaging girl, he thought his fellow-tra- 
 veiler/might bestow himself worse, espe- 
 cially at a time when the vivacity he so 
 eminently possessed might be of use to the 
 spirits of her excellent father. He there- 
 fore hastily retraced his steps, was favoured 
 in his passage, and in less than ten days 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOTJR, WHAT ? J 47 
 
 presented himself at the seat of sir Charles 
 Sedgewood^ where he was received with 
 Old English hospitality, but found not the 
 objectof his search, which so many concur^ 
 ring circumstances appeared to render so 
 totally out of his power, that he accepted 
 the baronet's invitation to remain with them 
 for some weeks. As, however, it was no part 
 of this oentleman's character to be station- 
 ary, in less than a fortnight he was on hiii 
 road for Bath,* and lord Eo^erton's beins: 
 very little out of the way, he stepped aside, 
 not only to show his respect for a family 
 he loved, but to inquire particularly after 
 the interesting sufferer, whose situation 
 had affected him so much, and caused him 
 such useless, though indefatigable exer- 
 tion. 
 
 Sir Thomas was received with tire usual 
 hospitality by the family> and now found 
 lady Caroline in the mitigated, but still 
 hopeless, state of suffering we have describ- 
 ed. When he informed lady Egerton how 
 he had been engaged since their partings 
 H 2 
 
148 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 she informed him, that it was her full per- 
 suasion that major Sedge wood, wherever 
 lie might be, was certainly happier than he 
 could be if the actual state of lady Caroline 
 was known to him ; and as there was no 
 hope of their union, she thought it would 
 be cruel to bring them to an interview, 
 which might be almost heart-breaking to 
 hira, and would probably again unsettle 
 the little returns of reason evinced by Ca- 
 roline. 
 
 After this conversation had taken place, 
 sir Thomas proposed proceeding one stage 
 farther that night, as the evening was re- 
 markably fine, and the moon nearly at the 
 full, and set out, notwithstanding the solici- 
 tations of the family. On emerging from 
 the near environs of the park, the sweet- 
 ness of the surrounding ^cene, pensive 
 thoughts arising from the preceding subject 
 of discourse, and some tender recollections 
 connected with the history of his own feel- 
 ings, occasioned sir Thomas to check his 
 horse, to indulge in the train of thought 
 which was thus awakened, at the same time 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER ^E1GHB0UR, WHAT ? 14^ 
 
 that he bade his servant ride forward am\ 
 order his supper and bed : he had not pro- 
 ceeded far when he observed a man emerge 
 from a neighbouring thicket, who, abrupt- 
 ly crossing his path, sprang over the 0])po- 
 site fence, and thus entered the park which 
 surrounded Thorp Hal), to which he ad- 
 vanced by rapid steps; there was some- 
 thing in his air which formed so perfect a 
 contrast to his habit, that it was impossible 
 not to notice him ; for his dress, as he 
 crossed the path, was that of a mere pea- 
 sant, and his agile step, and even dignified 
 gait, were those of the finished gentle- 
 man, and at this period the line of dis- 
 tinction was more strongly marked than it 
 is in the present ; it therefore instantly 
 struck sir Thomas that this disguise must be 
 assumed for a purpose inimical to the wel- 
 fare of the friends he had left : ever rapid 
 in his conceptions, he spurred his horse, 
 leaped the same barrier the stranger had 
 done, and overtook him in the course of 
 five minutes; on seeing him, the man en- 
 deavoured to shuii him, by taking a hye* 
 
IbO SAYS SHE TO nsR keigrbour, what ? 
 
 ■way, that appeared too narrow for the 
 horse, as it wound through a partial plan- 
 tation ; on seeing this, the baronet called 
 out that " he was determined to follow 
 him, go which v/ay he might, and would 
 leave his horse rather than permit his es- 
 cape/' 
 
 " And by v/hat right do you presume to 
 intrude on my privacy }" said the man, 
 stepping back, and grasping mare firmly 
 the cudgel in his hand. 
 
 •' Right, indeed! but lam not mistaken^ 
 1 find ; I am confident you are not the per- 
 son you wc^uld appear to be; and your 
 words, insolent as I conceive them to be, 
 confirms me in the supposition ; and I 
 must be allowed to say, wherever I per- 
 ceive mystery, I suspect guilt/' 
 
 " Probably," returned the man ; '' for 
 guilt is allied to suspicion." 
 
 The baronet was ever hasty ; fired with 
 the tone as much as the words now uttered, 
 be sprang from his horse, and would have 
 collared his affronter, who parried his ef- 
 forts by the cudgel he held^ but forborsf 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 151 
 
 Striking him; in doing this, the large hat 
 he wore was thrown olT, and the moon 
 shone full upon a countenance of most 
 manly beauty, shaded l)y a profusion of 
 fine brown hair, that fell in disorder on the 
 forehead, and contributed to give an ex- 
 pression of melancholy grandeur to a face 
 which he felt to l>e not wholly unknown to 
 him: in an instant recollection rushed 
 upon his mind, and he exclaimed — " Good 
 God i do I not behold major Sedgewood ?'* 
 The stranger was silent ; he turned round 
 for his hat, and was withdrawing hastily 
 from the astonished gaze of the baronet, 
 whose anger having once yielded to a new 
 emotion, enabled him to consider that his 
 present rencontre could not fail to be high- 
 ly unpleasant to the unhappy lover; in an 
 altered voice he therefore continued to 
 say — "Do not shun me, major; thougii 
 a stranger to you personally, or nearly so, 
 you may recollect the name of sir Thomas^ 
 Frankland, as one not unworthy your ac- 
 quaintance ; and when I farther informt 
 yoii that I have letters to you from your 
 
11)2 SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGiIBOURj WHAT ?' 
 
 father at Nice and your uncle in Yorkshire, 
 you will, I trust, accord me your society 
 for a few minutes, or inform me where I 
 may have the pleasure of delivering my 
 credentials ?" 
 
 The major (for it was indeed him) ad- 
 vanced, and offering his hand, endeavour- 
 ed to express some apology for his warmth, 
 allowing that his appearance had been suf- 
 ficiently extraordinary to awake suspicion 
 in a friend of lord Egerton's; and that he 
 trusted the circumstance 
 
 '* Don't say a word about circum- 
 stances," cried the impatient baronet; 
 *' do you think a man who has run after 
 you all over France and England is not 
 aware, too fully aware of your misfortunes, 
 not to keep your secrets or assist your plans ? 
 stranger as I am naw, we shall not be so 
 long ; only tell me how I can serve you ? 
 I am an Irishman, it is true, and my zeal 
 may outstrip my wisdom ; but with all my 
 impetuosity, you will find me tractable asa 
 child." 
 
 There had been a time when the major 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? T5S 
 
 would have comprehended in a momerAt 
 the generous ardour of the person wha 
 addressed him ; but the conduct of the earl 
 of Brooksbury had chilled his confidence 
 in human nature^ and a long and painful 
 illness, from which he was scarcely reco- 
 vered, had combined, with the more ter- 
 rible malady of his mind,, to render hope, 
 and the sweet sensations arising out of it, 
 to be strangers to his bosom ; but his cu- 
 riosity and gratitude were both awakened 
 towards sir Thomas, whose arm he now 
 took, and whom he entreated to favour him 
 with a detail of such circumstances respect- 
 ing his own affairs as were calculated to 
 awaken so lively and generous a ^ense of 
 friendship towards one who had no claims 
 upon his goodness. 
 
 The baronet briefly, but with all the 
 warmth of pity and benevolence, recited 
 the events I have mentioned, and wept 
 abundantly over his own narration, while- 
 a slow tear coursed over the cheek of his 
 more deeply-wounded auditor, who became 
 u a 
 
154 SAYS SHE T0 HER KEIGHB6UR, WHAT ?' 
 
 SO ill, that he was at length obliged to con- 
 fess that he was unable to stand, and yet 
 feared to lie down upon the grass. 
 
 The baronet perceived his horse grazing 
 near them ; he assisted the major to mounts 
 and without betraying his intention, led 
 him by a circuitous path to the house, whea 
 perceiving some of the servants, he called 
 for help ; and before the major had time 
 to recollect himself, he found himself 
 stretched on aso^fa in lord Egerton's break- 
 fast-parlour, and several kind faces looking 
 upon him with unspeakable tenderness;: 
 but the alteration in hi& person from sick- 
 ness, and the dress he wore, was such as 
 to render sir Thomas's information neces- 
 sary in the way of introductix^n, though he 
 carefully avoided mentioning his name in 
 the presence of the servants. The major 
 complained of a violent pain in the back 
 of his head, and expressed some fears of 
 the return of a rheumatic fever, from which 
 lie had scarcely recovered:, the housekeeper 
 ^as summoned, and gave it as her de- 
 cided opiaion^ that the poor man should 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGFTBOUR, WHAT ? 155 
 
 be got into a warm bed directly, drink 
 plentifully of hock whey^, and be wrapped 
 in flannel. She looked someAvhat surprised 
 to hear the best bed in the house ordered 
 by her lady for his reception ; but the of- 
 fices of humanity were ever dispensed at 
 Thorp Hall too liberally, to make her doubt 
 the propriety of this ; and she observed^ 
 that *' To be sure the badly man was very 
 handsome;" and as she felt his pulse, she 
 *'' saw he had a shirt on as orood as mv lord's, 
 and a skin under it as white as my lady's, so 
 she thought he may be had been; somebody 
 sometime, as poor as he was/' 
 
 There was an unresisting obedience to 
 the will of those around him, which sur- 
 prised and gratified the baronet, while it 
 evinced to the more discerning lady Eger- 
 ton a degree of bodily suffering and imbe- 
 cility which called only for her sincere- 
 pity ; and though she was ever happy tO' 
 relieve the sufferings of all the children of 
 aflliction, yet she could not divest herself 
 of the fear, that if any accident should dis- 
 cover the major's residence under the same 
 
156 SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHBOUK, WHAT?^ 
 
 roof to lady Caroline, that it would destroy 
 the first glimmerings of reason, or perhaps 
 hurry her to some fatal and irretrievable 
 act of imprudence. She concluded that 
 major Sedgewood was aware of the resi- 
 dence of his beloved Caroline with her, 
 from the circumstance of his being found 
 in disguise near the house ; but sir Thomas 
 had been too busy in relating his own nar- 
 rative to learn the particular views which 
 had brought him thither, and her ladyship 
 justly thought she ought to be acquainted 
 with them. To herlord she communicated 
 her anxiety by words and fooks, conveyed 
 as well as she was able, for her delicacy 
 towards their sick guest rendered particu- 
 lar commvmication impossible; his assu- 
 rances quieted her fears, and she proposed 
 that the major should be carried to the 
 chamber which was prepared for him. The 
 manifest change in his countenance proved 
 }ii> knowledge of lady Caroline's situation, 
 as it changed to a still deeper paleness, and 
 the hand which was held by lord Egerton 
 shook as with cOhviifeive tremors ; the good! 
 
SAVS SHE TG HER NElCHBOURj W I?AT ? 157 
 
 old man, considerately sending the servant 
 before them, led the invalid himself, in- 
 forming him that the person on whose ac- 
 count he felt some alarm was most probably 
 retired to rest, and he had therefore no- 
 thing to fear — an information which seem- 
 ed in some measure to restore him, as he 
 regained the courage which his mental 
 conflict appeared to have overpowered, 
 and retired to his bed with comparative 
 composure. 
 
 When lord Brooksbury, by openly re- 
 tracting his promise, had awakened the just 
 indignation of major Sedgewood, his first 
 thought was to hasten to his uncle, as the 
 only friend now within his reach, to whom 
 his wounded spirit could freely communir 
 rate its vexation ; happy wouJd it have 
 been had this resolution been put in prac- 
 tice; but as the desire of seeing lady Ca- 
 roline, and hearing her lips again Gonfirni 
 the promise now doubly necessary to his 
 peace, kept him some days lingering in the 
 Y»in hope oF effecting &wch a purpose, 
 Twithout subjecting him again to the insult- 
 
158 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 ing dismissal, he, of course, lost his cliance^ 
 by the hasty departure of his lordship for 
 his seat in Staffordshire. As soon as, 
 through the medium of his faithful servant, 
 he had discovered the suddenness of this 
 movement, and the irritation of temper in 
 which it was undertaken, he was convinced 
 that lady Caroline was suffering under the 
 severe persecution of her father on his ac- 
 count ; and conscious that every attempt 
 to see her, or even convey a letter to her, 
 must be attended with an increased por- 
 tion of suffering to her, he determined to 
 abstain from the attempt, until his nxan 
 should have been enabled to form such an 
 acquaintance with some domestic as to 
 render the discovery utterly improbable ; 
 yet finding it impossible to quit the neigh- 
 bourhood where a being so tenderly be- 
 loved was enduring unmerited sorrov; for 
 his sake, he laid aside his military insignia^ 
 announced himself as Mr, Varley, and pro- 
 cured lodgings at a farmer's in the neigh- 
 bourhood, as a person, who had been re- 
 commended to try change of air^, from be- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 150 
 
 ing reduced by a fever^ a story which gain- 
 ed full credit, from the paleness of his 
 countenance and the abstractedness of his 
 manners; wliile his servant was represent- 
 ed as a relation^ v/ho frequently came from 
 a neighbouring town to visit him. 
 
 So well had the earl taken his measures, 
 that from the circumstance of the major's 
 servant being well known to his household^ 
 it became impossible for some time ta 
 forward a letter with safety ; for though 
 love to their master had little place in 
 the earl's household, yet fear and self-inte- 
 rest held a high place there ; and though, 
 some would have been glad to forward the 
 wishes of their young lady, whom they 
 pitied, yet as they were the more simple 
 and honest of the household, John wisely 
 thought they might be easily circumvented 
 by the watchful eyes who were interested 
 in detecting a correspondence,, which the 
 earl very naturally thought would arise 
 from his interdictions. At length he suc- 
 ceeded in foi warding a billet, through the 
 joaedium of that servant whom I formerly, 
 
160 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGKBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 mentioned as a Fairborough man, and Vfho; 
 in common with his townsmen, loved the 
 name of a Sedgewood ; to this person he 
 revealed likewise the marriao^e of sir Charles 
 Sedgewood, which he had just heard of by 
 mere chance, as his master's concealment 
 had pyecluded the possibility af receiving 
 letters, without acquainting his uncle 
 where he was ; the ^tian was grieved at a 
 marriage, which he thought could not fail 
 being bad for the major, and in his hurry 
 to communicate his fears, drew suspicion 
 on himself from his lordship's valet; he 
 was examined in the earFs presence, and 
 the guilty billet, which he had not had 
 time to deliver, found in his bosom. His 
 lordship was too good a politician to dis- 
 charge him ; he even laid the billet aside 
 with apparent good humour, saying he 
 would give it lady CaroMne when she next 
 visited him; and then ordered the man to 
 set out immediately with his steward oa 
 particular business t© his Hampshire estate. 
 On the strength of this marriage infor*- 
 nn&tion^^ the earl proceeded a& we hav«« 
 
SAYS SHE TO ifER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 161 
 
 seen-, while major SedgewoocVs servant, 
 from the absence of his confidant, became 
 utterly unable to receive an answer from 
 lady Caroline; but from the manner in 
 which he afterwards found the man was 
 sent out of the way, he could scarcely al- 
 low himself to hope that it had ever been 
 delivered. For a few days, the report of 
 the earl's illness diverted him from the 
 anxiety which consumed him; after that 
 he heard vague reports of some terrible 
 oath that was exacted from the unhappy 
 lady Caroline, which assisted to distress 
 him, as well as the various gossip accounts 
 which had represented the earl as locking 
 up his only daughter every night, and 
 feeding her on bread and water; for though 
 he did not credit either the one or the 
 other, yet he thought but too justly there 
 was some foundation from which they 
 sprung ; he knew enough of the earl to be- 
 lieve it was but too likely that he would, if 
 possible, exact a solemn promise from his 
 daughter, which she would, from principles 
 of religion and honour, preserve with as 
 
162 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 much strictness towards him, as he had with 
 levity broken them towards her: he be- 
 lieved too that the earl had not sufficient 
 tenderness to spare his daughter from even 
 corporeal suffering, if she could not other- 
 ways be subdued to his purpose; and there- 
 fore while he refused implicit credence to 
 *' what she said to her neighbour," he yet 
 nourished a thousand fears for the safety of 
 his unhappy mistress. 
 
 Soon after this the duke appeared, and 
 it was known that lady Caroline had been 
 once more admitted to walk in the garden ; 
 in a short time he heard that she rode out 
 with the duke and her father; in this situa- 
 tion, with a slouched hat, and wrapt in a 
 large roquelaire, he had once more an op- 
 portunity of beholding for a moment the 
 idol of his heart ; her face was pale, and 
 bore the marks of sorrow and confinement ; 
 but at the moment the carriage passed him, 
 a smile irradiated her countenance, as she 
 was listening to the duke, who was gazing 
 at her with a look that spoke his passion : 
 the very heart of Theodore sunk in him at 
 
SAYS SHE TO IIER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 163 
 
 'the sight, and a pang, to \vhich all other 
 pangs are light, spread its poignant venonn 
 through his tortured bosom, and he re- 
 turned to his humble home so very a 
 wretch, it seemed as if the very air he had 
 inhaled had mildewed his soul, and blight- 
 ed its very powers of happiness. As if to 
 aggravate his woes beyond endurance, his 
 rustic hostess began bitterly to lament that 
 he had been walking out at the very time 
 when the fine folks from the castle had 
 rode past in the grand coach that the duke 
 had brought to carry away his bride ; *' For 
 after all,*' added she, " that Sally Grubbs 
 and dame Carter a sed, it seems she is to 
 haf he at last ; and her father, who knos 
 the duke is as old as he, made her take her 
 affidavy down on her pended knees, poor 
 lamb, that she would marry he, and no other, 
 though her heart be gone over the sease to 
 a fine hansom young soldier, as I be told/* 
 The major answered only by a deep 
 groan ; but the woman heard something 
 in it so much beyond all common sympa- 
 thy, that she felt grieved at the pain she 
 
164 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 had imparted ; and as she followed the 
 major into his little parlour, under pre- 
 tence of wiping down the dust, she added 
 — " Nay, for matter o that, I do hope 
 she'll be happy at last too; for you see 
 poor lady Caroline be very young, and 
 when she gets a grand house of her own, 
 aid a power of fine diamonds and lace,, 
 and remembers that its a good thing to be 
 an old man's darling, and, God help her, 
 that's what she's never been yet, why she'll 
 make up her mind to it. Indeed Mrs. 
 Jackson at waits on her says, she be far 
 better in her spirits like, for some days 
 past." 
 
 The major's total silence indicating dis- 
 pleasure, now induced the honest tattler to 
 leave the room ; and the major, throwing 
 himself on the bed, gave way to the foul 
 fiend which had taken possession of him, 
 and most rancorously consigned love and 
 its objects to every devil in Quevedo's ca- 
 talogue ; but scarcely had he done that, 
 when the pale face of his adored Caroline 
 arose to his view, a benign exerciser; h« 
 
-SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WirAT ? 165 
 
 remembered her tempered sweetness, her 
 steady friendship, her fervent piety, and 
 he abhorred himself for daring to doubt 
 her fidelity. Every proof of tender affec- 
 tion, consistent with the purity of her own 
 nature, he had received from her, and the 
 proof of what she had hitely suffered for 
 him was read in the very countenance whose 
 guiltless and transient smile he had been 
 so ready to condemn. True, she was 
 young, extremely young ; but her judge- 
 ment was ripened beyond her years, nor had 
 she ever known the weak frivolities that 
 govern half her sex: so young, ambition 
 could not stimulate her to forego that ten- 
 der union which had so long bound her to 
 a heart congenial with her own : but stilly 
 that smile, that damned smile, which she 
 had accorded to the detested being whose 
 gloating eye the purity of Caroline's soul 
 would have shrunk from, had she been the 
 angelic being his fancy had imaged her — 
 A thought now seized him ; he determined 
 to challeng*^ the duke, and improbable as 
 it was that the hoary gallant should honour 
 
166 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 his assignation, yet a mind thus goaded on 
 to madness found some relief in taking re- 
 fuge from the dreams of frenzy, in the 
 contemplation of any event which ^^ could 
 better life, or end it." 
 
 CHAP. VIL 
 
 *Tis now delightfol agony no more, 
 
 But bitters all unmixt. TnoMSOrf*. 
 
 John, the major's servant, on arriving the 
 next morning, found his master impatient- 
 ly expecting him, and still experiencing 
 that dreadful turmoil of thought which 
 characterizes the wretch '' who loves, yet 
 doubts/' and which has been pourtrayed 
 by our immortal bard in manner beyond all 
 praise. It was a kind of evil for which this 
 honest sympathizer had got no cordial in 
 all his budget of consolations, and he 
 therefore heard the sorrow he lamenfed 
 with silent commiseration; but when his 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 167 
 
 tnaster proceeded to say that he was deter- 
 mined to challenge the duke, John started 
 with the idea that his poor master's misfor- 
 tunes had actually turned his head, and he 
 exclaimed — '' Dear heart, your honour is 
 ill, very ill; you are fitter for bed than 
 fighting, to my mind.'* 
 
 The major insisted updfi proceeding in 
 his own way. 
 
 '' Well, well," said John, '' you must 
 take it; your honour knows what is best : 
 but you know there are not many wives who 
 will thank a man for killing their husbands^ 
 even if they are not quite to their minds; 
 and 1 have a great notion, if ever lady Ca- 
 roline really marries that old sinner, it will 
 be this very day." 
 
 The major^ rising, with distraction in his 
 look, insisted on knowing his reasons for 
 such a supposition. 
 
 '' Why, your honour, about three miles 
 off, who should I see but lord and lady 
 Egerton, and several other gay })eople, 
 and they all drove down to the castle : 
 now your honour cannot but recollect that 
 
168 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 of all people in the world, there was no- 
 body lady Caroline loved like lady Eger- 
 ton ; and she used to wish her father was 
 like his lordship so much, that the servants 
 used to fancy like that Mr. Saville, their 
 son, had a fancy for her." 
 
 The major's eyes flashed fire; he sprung 
 to his portmanteau, took his pistols, ran 
 out of the house, and made directly for 
 the castle, determined, in despite of its 
 haughty owner, to claim his .betrothed Ca* 
 roline, even if she were pronouncing those 
 vows which bound her to another. 
 
 It was happy for this unfortunate gen- 
 tleman, that the very distraction of his 
 mind, by urging him to take the nearest 
 road, defeated his intention, as it would 
 only have led him to expose sorrows sa- 
 cred to the eye of friendship, and rage 
 which, however naturally and justly excit- 
 ed, could not lead him to the revenge he 
 sought, without subjecting him to ever* 
 lasting regrets; he was near five miles 
 from the castle, the first three of which 
 were easily past, as they were open inclo- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 169 
 
 sures; but having quitted all traces of 
 road, as he approached the mansion, he 
 fell into some plantations, whose winding 
 paths entirely bewildered him; and after 
 walking and running for near two hours, 
 he found himself, by a sudden opening, in 
 full view of the castle, but still at a very 
 considerable distance from it. Vexed and 
 surprised, he now regretted'' his impetuo- 
 sity, and stood still for the purpose of re- 
 connoitring : while his ardent eye rested 
 on the castle, he beheld the carriage of 
 lord Egerton, and a chariot that seemed 
 of the same party, with some gentlemen 
 on horseback, drive from the door; the 
 chariot and horsemen went off at a brisk 
 trot, but the movement of the coach was 
 so slow, as to indicate its containing a sick 
 traveller — '' Ah !'' he exclaimed, " it is a 
 plain case that lady Egerton is ill, and that 
 nothing less than an affair of the utmost 
 importance would have drawn her out — 
 doubtless the marriage has been performed 
 
 VOL. I. 1 
 
170 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUPx, WHAT? 
 
 by a special licence. Yes; all now is 
 over ! — all, all is lost !" 
 
 The major threw himself on the ground 
 in utter despair ; and the agitation of his 
 mind appeared so to overcome his body, 
 that when, on the appetirance of his ser- 
 vant, he would have risen, from a sense 
 of shame at having suffered a deceitful girl 
 thus to destroy a veteran soldier, he found 
 himself scarcely able to rise; and his hag- 
 gard countenance betrayed the severity of 
 his sufferings, to which poor John hoped 
 he should give instant relief, by the assu- 
 rance that he had seen lady Caroline placed 
 in the carriage between lord and lady Eger- 
 ton ; that she appeared ill; and from the 
 style of her dress, gave no indication of be- 
 ino' made a bride. 
 
 IT) 
 
 A few moments ago, major Sedgewood 
 believed that he despised lady Caroline; 
 he now felt that he loved her to distraction-; 
 that his pity for her unmerited sorrow was 
 equal even to his affection. He now sought 
 only to throw himself at her feet, to en- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 171 
 
 treat her forgiveness for his unworthy sus- 
 picionSj and again vow to live only for her 
 sake; he could not help rejoicing that she 
 had left her father's house, and was under 
 tlie protection of friends who well knew 
 the situation in which he had been placed 
 in the earl^s family. But then again, the 
 green-eyed monster seized him, for might 
 not their cares be extended for the'sake of 
 their son, the young and accomplished 
 colonel Saville, a rival infinitely more to 
 he dreaded than the duke? Again he walked 
 forward with hurried step, and an air of re- 
 solute defiance, followed by his servant, 
 who, perceiving that he had quitted the 
 path to the castle, justly conceived that he 
 wished to proceed to lord Egerton's, and 
 therefore ventured to remind him that he 
 was in a very different direction to that 
 which led to Thorp Hall, adding, that it 
 was ten miles distant, and the skies por- 
 tended heavy rain. The major stopped to 
 inquire the road, and being shewn it, in- 
 formed John he had no farther occasion 
 I » 
 
172 SAYS SHE TO IIER NEIGHBOUR,, WHAT ? 
 
 for him at present, and that he wished to 
 be alone. The faithful servant instantly 
 withdrew; but when at a distance, he cast 
 many a lingering look towards his master, 
 whose perturbed and changeful step but 
 too strongly revealed the state of inward 
 warfare he was now experiencing. 
 
 Anxious as the major was to reach 
 Thorp Hall, he had still fixed on no pre- 
 text for making his appearance there, which 
 he could think sufficient to justify his 
 abrupt intrusion ; but to be once more ca- 
 pable of seeing his Caroline, without sub- 
 jecting himself to entering the earl's 
 grounds, was a satisfaction not to be re- 
 sisted ; though if she was really ill, it was 
 most probable she would be denied to him, 
 especially if the Egerton family had indeed 
 an interest in keeping them asunder: as 
 these thoughts passed his mind, he found 
 himself in the precincts of the park; and 
 now one part of his object was attained, 
 he checked for a moment the hurrying step 
 he had assumed, and stood to consider how 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 173 
 
 he should proceed in his advances to the 
 house. 
 
 The rain now fell in torrents, and the 
 poor woman who lived at the outer lodge, 
 observing a gentleman standing still so as 
 to receive the full benefit of it, instantly 
 conceived that nothing less than positive 
 madness could prompt him to such con- 
 duct. The fact was, the servant who had pas- 
 sed about an hour before, and of whom she 
 had inquired — '' Who my lady had brought 
 back in the coach?" had answered, that — 
 " To the best of his belief it was a poor 
 young thing that had lost her senses:" the 
 idea of insanity being thus introduced into 
 the woman's head, she fastened it upon the 
 first object she came near, who appeared^ 
 indeed, by no means unlikely to justify 
 her conclusion ; in consequence, however, 
 of this unfortunate association, when the 
 major, recollecting himself, became aware 
 of his situation, and, requested her permis- 
 sion to enter her cottage, and dry his 
 clothes, she instantly closed the door, lock- 
 ed it^ and, by the help of her child, made 
 
174 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUK, WHAT ? 
 
 a further barricade with every article of 
 moveable furniture^ calling out of her win- 
 dow — " Go away, poor man ; God bless 
 you, go away, that's a good dear ; go back 
 again to your straw, that's a honey." 
 
 An address meant to convey pity and 
 tenderness, accompanying an action de- 
 void of both, surprised the major; he en- 
 treated her to unbar the door, saying she 
 need not be afraid of him ; he was a gen- 
 tleman, a friend of her lord's; and so far 
 from robbing her, he would pay her very 
 handsomely for the paltry accommodation 
 he requested. Her child, as they stood at 
 the window, joined in the request, saying 
 — " You see, mammy, he is wet, quite 
 dripping wet; let him come and warm 
 himself; he looks as if he would hurt no- 
 body." 
 
 *' Not for the wide world,*' returned the 
 mother: '' why he might bite us both in- a 
 minute; and as to the rain, why it'll never 
 hurt he; cold and hunger, frost and snow, 
 never hurts mad folks, they say; and that 
 poor young thing that's gone through with 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHBOURj WHAT? 175 
 
 my lady, as delicate as she looks, would 
 lake no harm at all, if they turned her stark 
 n^ked with the deer in the park, seeing as 
 how she have clean lost her wits^ poor 
 creeter.'* 
 
 The information thus conveyed lost not 
 its full effect upon the irritated mind of 
 the agonized lover; he no longer entreat- 
 ed admittance, but rushing forwards with 
 a velocity which confirmed the poor wo- 
 man in her opinion, soon found himself in 
 the midst of a thick grove of oak, which 
 bounded one side of the park; here he 
 again threw himself on the ground, over- 
 come by anguish, which appeared even 
 more terrible than that he had experienced 
 in the morning, and where, if the bitter- 
 ness of his grief had not found the salutary 
 relief of tears, he felt as if his burning 
 brain would have partook the dreadful evil 
 he deplored. Yes, the major could weep ; 
 for grief was the passion under which he 
 now bent. Jealousy does not weep, for it 
 is ever commingled with the more malig- 
 nant elements of human suffering ; but the 
 
176 SAYS SITE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 afflicted by sorrow only have the sad privi- 
 lege of tears ; and the unhappy Theodore, 
 stretched on the damp ground, wept, pray- 
 ed, and groaned for his beloved Caroline, 
 till the shades of evening closed around 
 him, and night, in sympathetic gloom, par- 
 took the agony under which he laboured. 
 
 Poor John, who knew no peace while 
 his master was a stranger to comfort, had 
 unwillingly returned to the major's lodg- 
 ings; but when the rain came on, he set 
 out with his roquelaire on his arm, saying, 
 his relation would be getting wet. Con- 
 vinced that he was gone to Thorp Hall, he 
 made immediately for that place; but on 
 passing the lodge, had the-^precaution to 
 inquire ; the mistress was at that moment 
 relating to her husband the story of the 
 poor madman who wanted to come in and 
 dry himself, and John was but too soon 
 convinced that his dear master had been 
 the object of her ridiculous fears. Though 
 John had witnessed his master's power, in 
 many a perilous situation, to brave fatigue 
 and laugh at luxurious wants, yet he re- 
 
SATS SHE TO ITER NErGHBOTTH, WHAT ? l?T 
 
 collected that he had now "been nearly two 
 years surrounded by Engb'sh comforts, and 
 was so unused " to bear the warring of the 
 elements," that it was impossible he could 
 bear the min and cold, to which he had 
 been subjected, without suffering most se- 
 verely, especially when he was assured by 
 the woman that the poor gentleman had 
 branched off into the plantation, and could 
 not have reached the house without being 
 seen either by her or the child, who being 
 somehow quite grieved for him, had watch- 
 ed at the window till night-fall. The man, 
 whose humanity was roused, proposed 
 seeking the gentleman in the woods with 
 John, to whicli the latter with difficulty as- 
 sented, being well aware that it was but 
 too likely that his master's delicacy would 
 be wounded by the appearance of a stran- 
 ger; this was, however, over-ruled by the 
 difficulties of his situation, and they set out 
 together. 
 
 When the major first heard voices m the 
 vood;, he began to be sensible of his situa- 
 
178 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 tion, and found himself, as it were, root- 
 bound to the earth, every efTort he made 
 to move occasioned excruciating pain ior 
 his limbs, and daggers seemed entering 
 into his temples — " Surely,*' said he, 
 *' these are the pains of death; the hand 
 of the Almighty is upon me; he calls me 
 from the misery of life, to that rest which 
 can alone end my miseries. In the very 
 prime of my days, I am the victim of un- 
 merited affliction ; after being spared from 
 the field of honour, I am condemned to 
 expire unfriended and alone, not only 
 torn from the voice of love, which I had 
 once so fondly hoped would cheer the bed 
 of death, and point the way to everlasting 
 bliss, but; from the lowest tone of compas- 
 sion which man bestows on man. Oh 
 God ! surely this is too much !'' 
 
 " Nay, but who art thou, oh man, that 
 jepliest against God ?" 
 
 These words struck full upon the mine} 
 of the disconsolate being, even as he heard 
 the last sounds of the distant voices die 
 upon his ear; he recollected now that if 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 179 
 
 he were indeed called at this awful hour to 
 stand at that tribunal before whose solemn 
 atidit even the wisest and best cannot an- 
 swer for one in a thousand of his errors, 
 that he was unprepared to render up the 
 dread account. Had not his grief been 
 immoderate^ even to sin ? and his very pray- 
 ers mingled with reproach to the hand 
 which afflicted him ? Had he not, in the 
 intemperance of jealous rage, that very 
 morning sought the life of a fellow-crea- 
 ture ? and had not the evening hour wit- 
 nessed an abhorrence of his own? Had 
 not his love been carried to an excess sin- 
 ful in the eyes of him who hath forbade 
 idolatry ? and how, therefore, could he 
 appear in the sight of him who readeth not 
 only the actions but the hearts of the chil- 
 dren of men, and who is of '' purer eyes 
 than to behold iniquity?'* 
 
 Such are the awful thoughts which every 
 reasonable being must meditate upon at 
 the near approach of death — the veil of 
 self-deceit is then rent; and however just- 
 ly man may to his fellow-worm appeal for 
 
180 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUB, WHAT ? 
 
 acquittal, as to the tenour of his life, and 
 even the exalted morality of his actions, 
 he knows that, before his great Creator 
 and Judge, he is no other than a fallen be- 
 ing, whose best actions have been ever 
 blended with unworthy motives, whose 
 wisest resolutions have been defeated by 
 inconsistent weakness, and who cannot 
 dare to lift his conscious eyes towards the 
 throne of judgment, but as he is led by 
 humble faith and pious hope in the gospel 
 of peace to seek for mercy through his Re- 
 deemer's intercession; and if such are the 
 fears of the righteous at this awful hour, 
 well may it be asked — " Where shall the 
 ungodly and the sinner appear ?*' 
 
 As the major thus cogitated, the sound 
 of the voices again broke on his ear, and 
 communicated a ray of hope to his heart, 
 which was felt in despite of the sorrow 
 which reigned there, for religion now 
 brooded there like the spirit on the great 
 abyss, when life sprang from the genial 
 warmth. He exerted himself to give a 
 faint halloo, which was instantly answered 
 
 i 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 181 
 
 by poor Johrij and the voice of this faith- 
 ful domestic was now music in his master's 
 ear; in a few moments the dim light of a 
 lanthorn was seen, and the arms of his at- 
 tendants succeeded in raising him; but the 
 motion was attended with such torturinor 
 pain, that for a few moments it was suc- 
 ceeded by apparent insensibility : as it was 
 however impossible to avoid inflicting this 
 suffering, the two men were obliged to 
 carry him between them ; and, by the 
 stranger's advice, they made the best of 
 their way to a farm-house at no great dis- 
 tance, where it was thought necessary com- 
 forts and proper attendance might be easily 
 procured. 
 
 Just as they emerged from the wood, 
 the moon, now in the earliest wane, shone 
 out from the dark clouds which had hither- 
 to enveloped her, with a brilliant and tri- 
 umphant light, which shed its full rays on 
 the face of the major, and discovered to 
 the attendants that they had dropped his 
 haf in the woods, and, of course, exposed 
 his head to a double portion of the mid- 
 
182 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT? 
 
 hio^ht air; as John drew a silk handker- 
 chief from his own neck to remedy this 
 loss^ and was tying it round his master's 
 icy brows, now throbbing with accumulat- 
 ed pangs, he whispered — '* Have a good 
 heart, your honour; see what a glorious 
 night we have got at last ; the moon has 
 had hard work to climb so many black 
 mountains of clouds ; but she has conquer- 
 ed all, and has nothing to do now but 
 shine on till the sun comes/' 
 
 '' She is in the wane," said the major, 
 with a deep sigh. 
 
 *' True, your honour; but she gives a 
 sweet light for all that — we must take joy 
 when God sends it : but I beg your ho- 
 nour's pardon ; but somehow I feel as if 
 this moonshine came over my heart on 
 purpose to comfort it, and I couldn't help 
 speaking." 
 
 Madame Genlis has called the belief in 
 presentiment the '' superstition of tender 
 souls;" and as Theodore's was a tender, 
 though, a manly soul, he yielded for a mo- 
 ment to the soothing idea suggested by 
 
SAYS^SHE TO HER NEICIIBOUR, WHAT ? 183 
 
 the untutored, but feeling heart of his 
 faithful attendant; and as he watched the 
 beauteous orb shed her benignant beams 
 on " herb^ tree, fruit, and nowcr," with an 
 irradiation so soft, that it seemed to veil 
 the very beauties it revealed, his bosom 
 expanded to the idea, that as he seemed 
 providentially rescued from immediate 
 death, he might be preserved for future 
 enjoyment; but the severe pains he en- 
 dured would scarce allow his mind the 
 power of arresting hope ; and before the 
 farmer's door had opened to receive its 
 unexpected guest, every idea, save that of 
 obtaining present relief from excessive, 
 and still increasing pain, was banished from 
 the memory of the suffeving Theodore, 
 
184 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 CHAP. viir. 
 
 How every heart-string bleeds at thoughts of parting t 
 
 Blair. 
 
 When John had procured that medical as- 
 sistance which was now become highly ne- 
 cessary for his master, he learnt, with ex- 
 treme sorrow, that the major was now in 
 a rheumatic fever, the worst part af which 
 lay in his head; though his whole body 
 was likewise so much affected by it, that it 
 threatened to deprive him of the use of his 
 limbs, and render him an invalid for life. 
 This melancholy sentence the humane ser- 
 vant concealed, as far as it was possible, 
 from his master; and perceiving that it 
 was a complaint which required uncom- 
 mon exertion on the part of the sufferer, 
 he neglected no means of presenting to 
 his master's consideration every stimulant 
 for exertion he could devise ; and as his 
 vicinity^ to Thorp Hall enabled him to 
 make many inquiries after lady Caroline^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO IIFIl NEIGIIBOUBj, WHAT ? Ih5 
 
 he always endeavoured to give the major 
 that kind of information respecting her, 
 which was most calculated to engage him 
 in an endeavour to procure himself the 
 power of seeing her. The major still went 
 by the name of Varley ; and the family at 
 the Hall, who never failed to hear of the 
 %vants of all who were afflicted in their 
 neighbourhood, did not fail to olFer the 
 sick stranger any comforts which their house 
 afTbrded ; but when they found he was at-^ 
 tended by an attached friend, and in pos- 
 session of all that he really wanted, they 
 did not incommode him with useless in- 
 quiries ; so that he remained unknown and 
 unsuspected, through many weeks of rack- 
 ing pain and tedious languishment ; during 
 which he learnt, with tolerable precision, 
 the real state of his beloved partner in af- 
 fliction, over which he mourned unceas- 
 ingly, yet not without a latent hope, that 
 it would be possible for the voice of love 
 to restore what grief had taken away, until 
 he learnt the fears of lady Egerton, l^st any 
 affecting circumstance, especially seeing 
 
186 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 or hearing- suddenly from major Sedge- 
 wood, should again destroy the fine fabric 
 which the trembling hand of friendship was 
 now so cautiously repairing. 
 
 Before his sickness, there is no doubt 
 but the major, if it had been in his power, 
 would have rushed forward, at all hazards, 
 to have caught the desponding girl to his 
 bosom, and poured his vows of undying 
 love into her ears; but he had now learnt, 
 from bitter experience, how finely the is- 
 sues of life and reason are connected with 
 the fibres of the frame, and how soon the 
 extremes of sensibility may degenerate inta 
 the visions of. delirium. As soon, there- 
 fore, as his convalescence permitted him 
 once more to use exercise, he allowed him- 
 self to walk no further than the bounds of 
 a short meadow, from which, at a consi- 
 derable distance, he could discern lady 
 E2:erton's carriao^e, which he had reason to 
 believe contained his soul's treasure; and 
 the hope that she was then enjoying the 
 same reviving breeze whose salubrity re- 
 stored vii^our to his own frame, was so do- 
 
SAYS SHE TO IIEK NF.iCIIBOUR, WHAT ? 1 87 
 
 lightful a thought, that it never failed to 
 compose his mind, and restore it to a de- 
 gree of tranquillity highly conducive to 
 his recovery ; and he now feh how true it 
 is, that all misery is comparative — he was 
 still the same wretched, bereaved, doubting 
 creature he had been ; but the scourge of 
 sickness was removed; one dreadful bur- 
 then was cast off; and resignation sprung 
 from that patience he had now learnt to 
 practise; and gratitude to Heaven for that 
 which was removed, gave him fortitude to 
 bear that which remained. 
 
 John informed him one day, that it was, 
 he believed, the custom of lady Caroline, 
 on moonlight nights, to sit frequently till 
 near midnight in her window, watching 
 the orb with a kind of melancholy pleasure, 
 in which lady Egerton ever insisted on her 
 being indulged. He added, that he had 
 ascertained the window in which she gene- 
 rally sat, and could easily show it his mas- 
 ter when he was able to walk so far. His 
 master became able in a short time not 
 only to walk but to run : he even ventured 
 
188 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUK, WHAT ? 
 
 to leap the farmer's stile ; and in a very 
 few days, John allowed that his honour was 
 equal to the expedition. 
 
 Ever bearing in mind the real welfare 
 of his beloved mistress, the major equip- 
 ped himself in the farmer's clothes, and^ 
 accompanied by John, set out as soon as 
 the fair queen of night gave promise of 
 success. As soon as the servant had point- 
 ed to the window, he withdrew from the 
 arm of his master, leaving him a strong 
 staff in his hand, and entreating him to 
 suffer no fatigue to induce him'' to rest 
 again upon the treacherous damp ground. 
 
 The major replied not; his palpitating 
 heart scarce permitted him to breathe, and 
 his strained eyes, bent towards the window, 
 darted a beam that seemed as if it could al- 
 most consume the base impediments that 
 kept her from his ardent gaze ; ages of 
 fear and hope seemed concentered in those 
 moments of trembling expectation; but 
 when at length she appeared, when he was 
 convinced it was indeed her form he saw, 
 and even her features met his view, he was 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 189 
 
 obliged to' lean against the friendly tree 
 under whose shade he stood concealed^ and 
 where he sobbed in very agony. 
 
 The unconscious maid, throwing open a 
 wide casement, stepped out upon a little 
 balconv, made to contain a few flowerintv 
 shrubs ; she was drest in a white silk night- 
 gown, and her flowing ringlets simply 
 confined by a wreath of eglantine, which 
 had wound its tendrils round her window; 
 the major perceived that she was become 
 much thinner, and the smile of dimpled 
 beauty which had once played round her 
 mouth in all the fascination of youthful 
 loveliness was now fled; but the mournful 
 cast of her exquisite features, the very self- 
 desertion they evinced, rendered her the 
 object of a feeling dearer than even love 
 itself; and it was with the utmdst difficulty 
 the major could refrain from rushing for- 
 wards, and calling her once more — *' His 
 own, his adored Caroline. '^ 
 
 Happily for him, John returned in time 
 to convey him home in safety ; and finding 
 no bad eflects had arisen from this excur- 
 
190 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 sioii, the weather being now perfectly warm 
 and pleasant, this indulgence was permitted 
 again ; and the major was making his fifth 
 pilgrimage to his unconscious shrine, when 
 sir Thomas crossed his path, and produced 
 that temporary return of his fever which 
 we have already noticed. 
 
 As soon as major Sedgewood's servant 
 learnt the situation of his master, he ap- 
 plied to lord Egerton for permission to at- 
 tend him ; and as he was become not only 
 an active but a skilful nurse, he had the 
 praise of warding off the attack which now 
 threatened him ; and in two days the major 
 was ready to leave his chamber. 
 
 Colonel Saville not b-eing now at home, 
 lord Egerton exerted himself to amuse their 
 lively guest, sir Thomas; and as the day 
 was gloomy, and lady Egerton declined 
 her accustomed airing with lady Caroline, 
 he proposed to the baronet to exchange 
 his usual ride for a drive round the grounds, 
 to which he assented. While this arrange- 
 ment took place, major Sedge wood hear- 
 ing the chariot was at the door, withdrew 
 
SAYS SUE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 191 
 
 from the window^ even while he was most 
 fondly desiring to catch a single look of 
 the beauteous invalid, and listened with 
 an anxious ear to the receding sound of 
 its wheels ; as he was aware that the gen- 
 tlemen would be about taking their accus- 
 tomed ride very soon, he thought it best 
 to step down and pay his respects to lord 
 Egerton before he set out, and at the same 
 time to announce his departure. He had 
 seen sir Thomas early that morning, as the 
 friendly baronet generally visited him the 
 moment he had put his clothes on, and had 
 partly agreed to accompany him to Bath-, 
 as he was well aware the warm baths of 
 that celebrated spring were most likely to 
 prove of essential benefit to him ; but he 
 felt the constraint he was now in of breath- 
 ing the same air, yet not beholding the 
 dear form of his Caroline, become every 
 hour more irksome ; and he wished to re- 
 turn to his lodging and arrange his affairs 
 there immediately, that he might be ready 
 to accompany his new but warm-hearted 
 friend. 
 
192 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 Under this idea he descended to the 
 breakfast-parlour, which he found empty; 
 but as a newspaper was laying on the ta- 
 ble, he took it up, and holding it up to 
 his eyes, which had been a little injured 
 by his indisposition, he did not perceive 
 the entrance of any person, till an excla- 
 mation from the lips of lady Egerton made 
 him start; he dropt the paper, and beheld 
 her ladyship, with Caroline hanging upon 
 her arm, standing before him. 
 
 To fly the sight of her he adored was 
 impossible; but a sign from lady Egerton 
 (whose berxcvolent countenance shewed 
 how sensibly her fears were awakened) re- 
 called him to some portion of self-com- 
 mand ; ^nd repressing, as far as it was pos- 
 sible, the emotion he felt, he addressed 
 the common compliments of the day to 
 both the ladies; the sound of his voice, 
 though faltering and inarticulate^ awaken- 
 ed more fully the recollection of the fair 
 sufferer — her countenance became sudden- 
 ly illumed with intelligence, she approach- 
 ed hastily towards him^ then checked her- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? lOS 
 
 ■self, then again gazing with a look of ap- 
 prehensive doubt and extreme compassion> 
 she at length said — '' Poor, poor Theo- 
 dore ;'* and falling into the arms of her 
 maternal friend, she wept for the^^?'5/ time 
 —she wept upon her bosom. 
 
 This was the eventful moment to which 
 that kind friend had so long looked, and 
 she embraced it with joy ; she did not even 
 repel Theodore, when he, now advancing-, 
 took the hand of Caroline, and dropping 
 on his knees, as he pressed it to his lips, 
 besought her once more to look upon him ; 
 she raised her eyes wistfully to lady Eger- 
 ton's, saying, '' Will that break my vow?" 
 A pang like the bolt of heaven shot 
 through the major's heart as these words 
 fell from her guileless lips, and scarcely 
 could he refrain cursing the cruel policy 
 of a father, which could thus fetter the 
 innocent mind of such a child as this; he 
 ' was, however, somewhat relieved from this 
 distracting sensation by the reply of — 
 ^' No, my sweet child, you will break no 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
1*94 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOTJP, WHAT? 
 
 ^ow by conversing with him a short time; 
 you know you have made a vow to marry 
 him sometime, and he deserves your love." 
 She turned timidly round — '' You are 
 very, very pale/' said she, still fearfully, 
 "while a transient blush passed her cheek as 
 she laid her hand upon his forehead. That 
 blush trilled through the very soul of 
 Theodore; again his Caroline, the modest 
 maid, whose animated beauty once glowed 
 with speaking thought, was once more 
 ■brought to his despairing eye ; he made a 
 •faint effort to catch her in his arms, but, 
 overpowered by his feelings, sunk back on 
 the sofa he had just quitted, nearly insen- 
 sible. Lady Egerton, now changing the 
 object of her solicitude, seized his hand, 
 ^nd offering him salts, besought him to 
 exert himself, while the gentle Caroline, 
 whose mind by degrees recovered its ener- 
 gies, hung fondly over him, and while her 
 warm tears fell upon his wan cheek, be- 
 sought him to live, chafed his temples 
 with her hands, and told him the time 
 would yet come when he might claim his 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 195 
 
 faithful Caroline. Every word she uttered 
 indicated reviving intellect; but, alas! 
 with mind and memory returned the sense 
 of that sorrow which had ruined both ; and 
 by the time that the major had overcome 
 the feelings which oppressed him, she was 
 sunk in that unutterable anguish io which 
 even the horror of madness, or the stupor 
 of idiotcy, seems almost preferable. 
 
 When, however, lady Caroline was able 
 to speak, she besought the major to re- 
 member that her vows were his; and though 
 it was too probable that she should never 
 be more to him than she was at that mo- 
 ment, yet she trusted it would sooth some 
 sad reflections, to remember that her faith 
 was unalienable. She besought him to try 
 if the mild air of Italy would restore his 
 health ; and said, that although she found 
 it was impossible to live through another 
 interview like this, yet the belief that he 
 was living, and in health, would be to her 
 the only solace of existence, as she should 
 ciideavour to cherish a hope that they 
 k2 
 
f 96 SAYS SHE. TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 might oiice more meet, since that hope 
 ."was inexpressibly dear to her. She paus- 
 .<€d-r-^a faint endeavour to give the major 
 xthat liberty she had denied herself, was half 
 expressed, in a voice of perturbation that 
 spoke how much it cost her; but she was 
 interrupted by his suddenly throwing him- 
 self on his knees before her,. and swearing, 
 that living or dying, no human being but 
 herself should bear his name, or share a 
 heart devoted to a being so purely, though 
 so unhappily beloved. 
 
 To describe the last adieu of such a pair 
 as this is utterly beyond my feeble powers; 
 by the advice of their mutual friends it was 
 hastened, and the good-natured baronet 
 tore the major away from a scene which he 
 was utterly unable to bear in his present 
 istate, and conducted him to Bath; but as 
 this did not prove a perfect restorative, and 
 the general health of this unhappy man 
 being so affected as to require change of 
 climate, after a few weeks they set out to 
 Italy, having written to their friends at 
 Kice^ and informed Mr. Sedgewood that 
 
SAYS SirE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? IDT 
 
 in a few months they would join him there. 
 In the meantime lady Caroline remained 
 %vith her attentive friends, who anxious to 
 preserve her in her present convalescencey. 
 and sensible that residing with the enri, 
 her father, was not likely to promote the 
 restoration of her spirits, tliey set out oa 
 a tour round the kingdom, agreeable to 
 their original plan, by which means he 
 ^as still kept in ignoranee as to the real 
 state of her intellects. It was found that 
 no means of preserving reason, or im- 
 proving Ghcerfulness, were found so ein^ 
 cacious to the mind of this hunrane young 
 creature, as that of allowing her the powei? 
 of making others happy ; wherever sha 
 went, the children of misery were her firsS 
 care; she visited the abodes of sorrow, en- 
 tered into the detail of afiiiction, whether 
 mental or bodily, and appeared to feed lifa 
 in herself only by her power of imparting' 
 it to others; the widow and ihc fatherless, 
 the aged and the helpless, every where 
 partook her bounty ; but when the simple 
 stoxy of two. tender hearts, divided by son* 
 
298 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGnBOUR,- WHAT ? 
 
 TOW, or contemned by prudence, met her 
 ear, her sympathy assumed an aspect of 
 more tenderness, and her bounty rose to 
 generosity; and when she contemplated 
 the happiness she had caused, a momentary 
 joy lighted her meek eyes, and she felt as. 
 if she too tasted the pleasures of love ; but, 
 alas ! this joy was ever succeeded by the 
 bitter reflection her unhappy and peculiar 
 situation was so well calculated to produce 
 in a heart so tender and so constant as the 
 unhappy lady Caroline's ; it was always 
 observed too, that the mention of her fa- 
 ther, at such times, gave her great pain, 
 and a kind of cold shudder crept through 
 her frame, as if she was struggling with a 
 sensation she condemned^ but could not 
 conquer. 
 
 Near three years had passed since the 
 major's departure, in which a few regular 
 visits and formal ey^istles had passed be- 
 tween a father and daughter, who, being 
 the only natural supports each possessed 
 in the whole world, ought to have been 
 very differently situated; when as lady 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 199^ 
 
 Egerton and her dear protegee were one 
 day slowly perambulating a country village 
 nt)t far from Thorp Hall, they remarked a 
 young woman leading an old one, who 
 was quite blind, to the door of a neigh- 
 bour; there was something in the atten- 
 tion this young woman evinced beyond 
 the cares of vulgar humanity, for though 
 at an age when curiosity is alert, and in a 
 rank of life which renders a splendid 
 equipage a novel object, she did not allow 
 herself to be withdrawn a moment from 
 her decrepid charge, till she had safely 
 placed her in a wicker chair in the cottage^ 
 when she just stepped to the door to take 
 a peep at the ladies, accompanied by the 
 inhabitant, a decent-looking woman. 
 
 " Is that poor woman totally blind, my 
 good girl?" said lady Egerton, as she 
 alighted from the carriage, with an inten-» 
 tion, if possible, to relieve the sufferer. 
 
 '' Yes, madam, quite bl nd, and deaf 
 too,** said the young woman, curtseying; 
 antl adding in a lower voice, " she is my 
 grandmother^ madam.*' 
 
jgOO SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT .^ 
 
 '' I thought as much/* said the lady>. 
 " from your attention to her. I love ta 
 see young people grateful ; and the man- 
 lier in which you assisted your grandmo- 
 ther, as you guarded her from the stones, 
 convinced me that you were a grateful 
 girl, who had not forgot what you owed 
 to her/' 
 
 The poor girl was overwhelmed with 
 ton fusion ; but her blushes were succeeded 
 by tears, and she stammered — *' Oh yes, 
 xnadam, 1 hope I've forgot — I mean, I try 
 to forget all, and I hope it'll please God 
 to teach me to forget every thing/' 
 
 " I don't understand you," said lady 
 Egerton ; " but yet I cannot help thinking 
 well of you/' She hesitated. 
 
 '' Please your ladyship,*' said the neigh- 
 bour, '' poor Sally here, who I will say is 
 as good a girl as ever was born, doesn't 
 well know how to speak before such fine 
 ladies as you be, and specially when you 
 talked of her not forgetting her old grand- 
 mother ; for to be sure the old woman did 
 do her a sad spiteful trick, that's for cer* 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR/WHAT ? '^'t 
 
 tain, an she thot a> how yonr ladyship 
 luded to thatj becase why ye see its-always^ 
 uppermost in her own heart, as it were.'* 
 
 " Don't say that/* said Sally, weeping, 
 *' for I prays- against thinking of it every 
 night of my life/* 
 
 Lady Caroline's attention was aroused^ 
 fjor she saw that Sally's blushes arose fram 
 that fatal passion in whose sorrows she 
 could so fully sympathize ; she therefore 
 begged the neighbour to inform them a; 
 little further on the subject, as they were 
 totally ignorant of what she meant by tlie 
 spiteful trick. 
 
 " Why, miss,** said the woman, '' Vll 
 tell you how it was; this girl's father was 
 as.good a man as ever was born, and he 
 always supported his mother with the rest 
 of his family, and his wife was very good 
 to her; and so they brought up their two 
 children, William and Sally, to behave 
 jDrettily to her, as it were; but she was a 
 delicate body, and pined away in a waste 
 about six years, and somehow poor he v</as> 
 k3. 
 
S02 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGSBOTTR, WHAT ? 
 
 never quite right after ; and he happened 
 a bad axcident one day when he was fell- 
 ing a tree ; he cut his leg with a hatchet, 
 and it made him bleed so much that he 
 fell into a weak way, and died about two 
 years after ; and a grievous thing it was 
 for all his neighbours/* said the relater, as 
 she wiped her eyes with the corner of her 
 apron. 
 
 " Well, madam, but as I was a saying, 
 William was got up a fine young man, and 
 ^ he kept up his father's trade of a car- 
 penter, and Sally took in a bit of sewing 
 when she could get it, and spinned at other 
 times; and her grandmother was not quite 
 blind then, but very near it; howsomde- 
 ver, Sally always waited of she duly, and' 
 kept the house clean besides, and it was 
 quite comfortable to look at like> to see 
 these young things walk in the ways of their 
 parents, as it were* but, dear heart, there 
 was a young man worked in the same shop: 
 with William they called Tom Handy ; he 
 was a very good lad, and could read and; 
 write I and being very wiiling to do every 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 2QS 
 
 one a good turn, he used to go home with 
 Willy at nights, to teach him to write a 
 bit, and so by degrees he taught Sally too, 
 and a sort of a liking took place; and 
 Willy was glad of it, for he loved em 
 both so, that he would have done any 
 thing to make em happy as it were ; be- 
 sides, Tom Handy got very good wages, 
 because he worked at fine work; so you 
 see it was a very pretty match for Sally as 
 one could have had; but, dear heart, this 
 poor old woman didn't like Sally should 
 marry at all, for fear she shouldn't wait on 
 her; so what does she do but pack off* 
 Sally to see her uncle, that lives five miles 
 ofT, and then takes her stick in her hand, 
 and sets off to the next market-town, where 
 she'd hard there was a press-gang; so what 
 does she do but goes away to the captain^ 
 and told him that Thomas Handy was a 
 wicked raffletoppin, that wanted to ruin 
 her child, and she hoped he'd rid the 
 country of him ; and then she told him 
 where to send his men to take Tom up, 
 for it was a hard, job to catch him idling. 
 
2^4 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUK, WHAT? 
 
 about, and specially since he was out of 
 his time, and was getting a little money 
 together to begin the world with ; but 
 howsomdever, home comes old Betty, and 
 when the young men came in, as usual, 
 after dark, she said, ' Tom, my lad, I don'^t 
 feel well, and I wish you woiild go^ and 
 fetch Sally ; I told her to stay two nights, 
 but I feel quite sick and tired, so set off 
 and fetch Sally home ;' so Tom was willing 
 enough; but, dear heart, William being a 
 prudent young man, followed him out, 
 for he thought it hadn't a proper look for 
 his sister to be out with her sweetheart late 
 at night, and Thomas was quite of his. 
 way of thinking; so they went together, 
 and, dear heart, in the middle of a lane 
 ail the prest-gang rushed upon them, and 
 seized em, and. because they made resist- 
 ance, for they were both handsome, stout 
 young fellows they used them quite shock- 
 ing, and put irons on their hands, and ne- 
 -ver let ihem have a mament's ease tiH they 
 put them on ship-board : and now there 
 ahey be, bath gone over the wide scas^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? ^05 
 
 snd this poor orphan child has not got a 
 friend in the wide world.** 
 
 While this sad story was telling, Sally 
 liad withdrawn; the tears of lady Caroline 
 fell fast at the recital of such unmerited 
 sorrow, and lady Egerton was much afxect- 
 ed ; not noticing the agitation of lady Ca- 
 roline, she inquired of the narrator — '*^how 
 Sally bore the first shock of such a distres- 
 sing event ?'* 
 
 ** Oh_, main bad, madam, yon may be 
 sure; for what was worst of all, some 
 neighbours met the poor lads next morn- 
 ing on the road, in their handycuffs on, 
 and their faces bloody and swelled with the 
 blows they had received ; so they stopped 
 to tell the press-gang that there must be 
 some mistake, for these were two honess, 
 industrious lads as any in the country; en 
 that the wicked heathens swore a great oath, 
 and told who it was that had betrayed one 
 ef the lads to them, and they said it was 
 proper to take his companion too, since 
 birds of a feather flock together. So yoii 
 see, madam, these nei^hbaurs went to Sal- 
 
206 SAYS SHE TO HER NEICHBOUH^ WHAT ? ' 
 
 ly's uncle's, and told her all they had heard,, 
 and the poor thing swounded clean away 
 as ir were ; so they were forced to get a 
 doctor to her, and she was main bad a long 
 while, and pined and pined till she was 
 like an attomy ; but grief niver kills.poor 
 folks outright, madam, and so in time she 
 came about again, poor young thing— r- 
 she's had a great share of sorrow for her 
 years." 
 
 ** How long was it before she returned^ 
 to her grandmother }" 
 
 <t Why, madam, her uncle was so anger- 
 ed at old Betty, he said she should never 
 come back at all, but when she got strength 
 she should go to service; but when the 
 poor thing got a bit better of her sickness^ 
 she found that the old woman was put ia 
 the workhouse, and that her sight was quite 
 <yone, so she thought it her duty to come 
 back to her, and she took in spinning, and 
 works at any thing, and the parish encou- 
 rages her, and so, one way or other,, she 
 makes shift to maintain 'em both; and hav- 
 ing no time to fret and cry rauch^ she's 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 207 
 
 beginning to look a little like herself again. 
 You see, my lady, God is good to poor folks. 
 in that way ; we that have bread to get 
 >vith our own hands, cannot sit still and 
 grieve same as ladies can/* 
 
 The simple good sense of this daughter 
 of obscurity could not be heard by lady 
 Caroline without making a deep impress 
 sion on her heart ; but she was too much 
 affected to make any comments. Lady 
 Egerton, whose admiration of Sally was 
 wound to the highest pitch, entered the 
 cottage, and began to express her appro- 
 bation warmly ; but Sally modestly said, it 
 was her duty, and she must have been a 
 wicked girl had she neglected it, seeing 
 her parent had always taught it her — " To 
 be sure," added she, " I would rather have 
 waited on grandmother for love all my 
 life, as I used to do, and hope to do again 
 when I can forget those that are now suf- 
 fering ; indeed when I look at her now, 
 and consider what a poor helpless creature 
 she is, I often forget all my sorrows, and 
 kiss her with the same love I used to do-;: 
 
SOS SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WITAT ? 
 
 and I pray God to forgive her, and to brin^ 
 good out of evil to us ail, as the parson 
 says he very often does, even in this 
 world." 
 
 It will be very readily supposed that this 
 cottage was not left without something to 
 cheer its inhabitants; but the worthy visit*- 
 ants were not content with a temporary 
 gratuity ; they inquired every particular 
 respecting the present situation^ of the im^ 
 pressed young men which SalJy was able 
 to give them, and the adventure furnished 
 conversation to lady Egerton for the rest 
 of the day ; but on the mind of lady Ca- 
 roline it rested with a deeper influence, 
 and she rqlired early, as- if to give it mori^ 
 serious contemplation; and the nextmora- 
 ing at breakfast, she addressed lord and 
 lady Egerton, who were both inexpressibly- 
 dear to her, in the following manner : — 
 
 '^ When I consider, my beloved friends, 
 my more than parents, the nature of your 
 goodness to me, and all your unbounded 
 sympathy has made you feel for me^ I ara? 
 iead_y to^conclude it is not less, my d^ty: 
 
SAYS SHE TO HEU NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 209 
 
 than I feel it to be my inclination, to de- 
 vote the whole powers of my mind to 
 soothing;' the remainder of vour davs, and 
 being unto you as a daughter. But the 
 lesson of self-denying virtue and pure 
 Christian forgiveness which I was taught 
 yesterday by the injured child of poverty, 
 assures me that mv father ought to be the 
 object of my care, and that my past suf- 
 ferings ou^ht not to steel the heart of a 
 child against the claims of duty or the 
 pleadings of nature; in the sorrow that 
 has blighted my days, his hopes are also 
 withered ; and in contemplating his sor- 
 rows, I shall cease to resent my own; in 
 administering to his affliction, I shall en- 
 joy the only blessing I have yet power to 
 embrace : my mind is, I trust, so far re- 
 stored, that the exercise of its energies will 
 encrease them; and if I am made the hap- 
 py instrument of consoling my declining 
 parent's infirmities, or administering to his 
 mental wants, surely I shall find a comfort 
 to which I have been long a stranger. Do 
 not, therefore, be surprised if your poor 
 
210 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 Caroline, to whom you have been Heaven's 
 instruments of unbounded good^ at length 
 says, in the language of the prodigal, and 
 not without some portion of his feelings 
 too, ' I will arise and go to my father.*' 
 
 Tears of tenderness and admiration sus- 
 pended words ; the venerable pair loved 
 her as the daughter of their souls, but they 
 felt that her resolution was worthy of her'- 
 self, and they would not oppose it; the 
 carriage was prepared, for they knew that^is 
 lordship was now in their neighbourhood, 
 but for so short a period, that it was ad- 
 visable to lose no time in joining him 
 there, as he had seldom remained at this 
 seat for more than a week together, since 
 the fatal event which had destroyed his 
 projected greatness; from the fatal hour 
 in which she had left her father's mansion, 
 it had never met the, eyes of lady Caroline, 
 and she could not again behold it without 
 evincing symptoms of agitation, which 
 alarmed the kind hearts of her friends; she 
 exerted herself, for their sakes, to over- 
 came these emotions, and when she alight- 
 
SAVS SHE TO* HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT r* 2 1 1 
 
 ed, proved herself equal to the trial she 
 attempted. The earl received the party 
 with that courtly politeness habitual to 
 him, but without any of that emotion likely 
 to affect a father who was once more re- 
 ceiving his only child to the paternal man- 
 sion ; but this conduct was the less to be 
 regretted, as it spared the feelings of her 
 too susceptible heart, and was advantage- 
 ous to his own health, which was evidently 
 more delicate than it used to be. 
 
 After taking a family dinner, lord and 
 lady Egerton returned home, promising 
 themselves a frequent interchange of visits 
 with their adopted child, as the only con- 
 solation for the loss of her society they 
 could now receive : lady Caroline com- 
 manded her tears as she bid them adieu ; 
 and though grief lay heavy on her heart, 
 she supported a conversation for the rest 
 of the evening with the earl, which proved 
 how decidedly she had devoted herself to 
 his welfare. In a short time the earl ex- 
 perienced many comforts, to which he 
 had been long a stranger, restored to him 
 
212 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 by his kind and attentive companion ; she 
 made herself acquainted with every medi- 
 cal help which was necessary to him in the 
 hour of sickness, and every amusement he 
 was enabled to take in returning health ; 
 she bore with meekness the petulance he 
 too frequently evinced in one state, and 
 gave brilliancy to those moments which 
 v^ere cheered by the other. On the lips 
 of both parties. Silence set her seal alike as 
 to the past and future; but in the present 
 hour, each found that consolation which 
 virtuous exertion, however applied, still 
 fails not to bestow ; for the endeavours of 
 lady Caroline, like the dews of mercy, 
 '* were twice blest"— -'^ they blessed he^- 
 who gave, and him who took them.'* 
 
«AYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 213 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Self-love but serves the virtuous soul to wake, 
 
 As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake, 
 
 rrieud, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace. Pope, 
 
 Sir Thomas Frankland atrended rnajor 
 Sedgewood to Naples, from thence to Ve- 
 nice ; they then visited Switzerland, and 
 the melancholy of even the heart-stricken 
 lover was for some time amused by the 
 bold scenery and novel landscape to be 
 found in that enchanting country ; but the 
 simplicity of its inhabitants, while it charm- 
 ed his bosom, reopened all its wounds. 
 Here he saw love dethrone ambition, and 
 trample on the fetters of avarice ; here the 
 tenJer relationship of parent and child 
 bound their soft cords through every rank 
 of society, and purified the heart, while 
 they civilized the manners; disdaining the 
 weakness of voluptuous bondage which 
 enervated the race they had so lately quit* 
 ted, these hardy mountaineers, free as the 
 
§14 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 chamois that bounded o'er their glaciers, 
 and firm as the rocks that sheltered them, 
 yet proved all the tenderness which marks 
 the manly and the gentle characteristics of 
 wedded love; and in their happiness the 
 major beheld all the extent of his unutter- 
 able loss ; he therefore hastened to Nice^ 
 where his presence conferred the pleasur 
 he was unable to share; his father and sis 
 ter lost no means of adding to his comfort 
 but after having assured himself of thei 
 welfare, he was again desirous of moving; 
 and as sir Thomas importuned him to re- 
 turn to Italy, a pair of Neapolitan eyea 
 having naade strange havoc in the baronet's 
 heart, they once more set out together, 
 but varying their travelling system, by em- 
 barking at Marseilles ; they soon reached 
 the spot so eagerly desired; and the lively 
 Hibernian was convinced that the eyes o£ 
 signora Eulalia were not injured since theif 
 departure; it happened, however, some4 
 what unluckily, that their brightest rayi 
 were ever darted towards his sombre com-^ 
 panion : the fair Italian was ambitious ; sh^: 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 215 
 
 Scorned the easy conquest of the honest Irish- 
 man, and set all the spirit of an intriguing 
 mind, and the charms of her fascinating per- 
 son, to conquer the melancholy of the hand- 
 some Englishman, or at least to turn the 
 sadness which interested her, into the ve- 
 hicle of that tender sentiment she sought 
 to inspire. 
 
 Signora Eulalia had not only the charms 
 of Leauty, accompanied by superior ac- 
 complishments in music and singing, but 
 she possessed an exuberant fancy, consi- 
 derable information, and a mind far above 
 the common class of her countrywomen ; 
 to these she joined considerable address, a 
 specious appearance of morality, when it 
 suited her purpose, and an air of modest 
 simplicity, resembling that which an Eng- 
 lishman at this period seldom found in such 
 perfection as in his own country, and which 
 she could so blend .with the bewitching 
 voluptuousness of her own, that the being 
 she aimed to ensnare fancied that the form 
 of Virtue herself was won to indulge him, 
 a species of flattery the coldest can feel;, 
 
SI-6 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 and the wisest will be at little pains to 
 analyse. 
 
 As the major, in a very early period of 
 their acquaintance, had thought proper to 
 hint that friendship was all his heart could 
 now admit for woman, the lady was pla- 
 tonic to admiration ; but as he had soon 
 after owned that the tender sorrows which 
 oppressed him were ever alleviated by mu- 
 sic, she lost no opportunity of calling her 
 lute to aid the powers of her reason, and 
 sung to its melting strains with eyes of such 
 soft languishment, that it was no wonder 
 the gay baronet, who was admitted, as far 
 as form went, to the same honorary dis- 
 tinctioif. 
 
 Soon tvander'dj a %vililng example, to prove, 
 That friendship with woman is sister to love. 
 
 Though the major did not believe he 
 could take pleasure in any thing, yet he 
 certainly found himself subject, at the 
 usual hour, to accompany the baronet to 
 the fair friend's, with a quicker step and 
 gayer air than he wore on any other occai- 
 
SAYS SHE TO H^H NEIGHBOtJR, WHAT? 2 If 
 
 sion; but he thought it proceeded front 
 his regard to the baronet, who certainly 
 merited his greatest attention, from the 
 disinterested attachment he had evinced, 
 and the wearisome wanderings he had so 
 patiently partaken ; and as he really beJiev- 
 ed that he wished his friend all possible 
 success, yet he was not as sorry as he ought 
 to have been, when the lady positively re^ 
 fused to be made lady l^rankland, which 
 was going farther in the affair than the ba- 
 ronet meant; nor could he understand from 
 the teli-tale glances of those " orbs of 
 dewy light" which revealed the state of 
 4he gentle Eulalia's bosom, that he was the 
 man who, malgrc his pallid looks and ab- 
 sent air, had touched the susceptible maid, 
 without feeling some little glow of plea- 
 sure play on his benighted heart ; but it 
 was only like the moonbeam which sparkles 
 on the icicle it canrrot melt ; it shone, but 
 could not warm the faithful shrine where 
 the image of the far-distant Caroline sal on 
 lier holy throne ; and the penetrating ]Eu^ 
 
 VOL, I. L 
 
1S18 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 ialia soon discovered, that while his vanity 
 •enjoyed her homage, or his pity lamented 
 it, yet his unshaken heart denied the slight- 
 est promise of return ; and in vain the lure 
 of beauty, the charm of talents, or the 
 stimulus of coquetry, bent their united 
 arms against the impregnable battery of a 
 passion not more hopeless than faithful— 
 ^et still she played on ; for there was 
 amusement in the action, though victory 
 were denied to her prowess. 
 
 After another winter, the major had re- 
 gained his strength, and appeared to per- 
 fect his personal merits, since he now 
 adopted the rich hije which an Italian sun 
 throws over the features, and he was not 
 sorry to return to his military duties; the 
 British troops were then carrying a bril- 
 liant career of arms in the East, where he 
 proposed immediately to join them; and 
 such was the faithful attachment which sir 
 Thomas felt for him, that he would pro- 
 bably have gone with him as a volunteer, 
 when an English family, passing through 
 Naples on their way to Sicily, engaged his 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHEOUIt, WHAT ? 219 
 
 attention, and eventually took him in their 
 Sijite, for he found one of the two daugh- 
 ters of his new friend nearly as charming 
 as the syren who discarded him ; and as 
 the major told him — " She had that within 
 which passeth show/' he determined, like 
 a wise man, to extinguish one flame by 
 feeding another; and he had now the good 
 fortune, before he reached the land of 
 saints, to take home a very amiable wife; 
 so that it could not be said he had run a 
 wildgoose-chase for nothing at all. 
 
 Disappointments in tender attachments 
 of the heart have improved some soldiers, 
 and made others^ a circumstance we may 
 trace in the private history and military 
 achievem.ents of several great names in 
 our own day; and which may be accounted 
 for, partly by the carelessness of life the 
 loss of a beloved object is but too apt to 
 inspire, and partly from considering that 
 some very active principle is required to 
 deliver the mind from the morbid sensibi- 
 lity it has lately indulged, and that glory. 
 
'^S'O SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHEOUKj WHAT ? 
 
 ^nd its accompanying irritabilities, are the 
 fnost powerful of the energetic feelings. 
 Ee this as it may, it is certain that the 
 major every where signalized himself, not 
 •only for undaunted bravery, but superior 
 discipline, and, above all, for that tender 
 h^imanity by which he sought to bind the 
 wounds of suffering humanity, even where 
 she is most decidedly outraged ; his merit 
 occasioned him advancement in the first 
 campaign, and at the end of the second he 
 %vas brigadier-general. 
 
 The laurels thus earned on the banks of 
 the Ganges shed refreshing odours on the 
 distant retirement of her who now soothed* 
 the sickbed of declining age, and bade her 
 gentle heart partake heroic ardour; but 
 the private suffering of a part of his excel- 
 lent family, every branch of which, though 
 personally unknown, were yet tenderly 
 bound by those fine fibres in which the 
 lover lives a twofold life, awoke her sor- 
 row. I mentioned that the young marquis 
 of Blandington had conceived a passion for 
 the major's pretty sister when she was little 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR; WHAT ? 22 I 
 
 more than a child, and which succeeded iti^ 
 banishing from his heart its first impres- 
 sion; this flame had literally grown witb 
 the growth, and strengthened with the 
 strength of the young people ; and as so- 
 splendid an alliance with so amiable a 
 young man could not fail being highly ac- 
 ceptable (o Mr. JSedgewood, he Iiad no far- 
 ther exerted his parental authority, than to^ 
 postpone the marriage until his daughter 
 had attained her eighteenth year, at which 
 period finding himself gradually declining, 
 he wished to return to his native country, 
 and present his new connexions to his bro- 
 ther, as there still existed the same undi- 
 vided affection between them, notwith- 
 standing their long parting, that has ever 
 distinguished the relationships of the Sedge- 
 wood family. 
 
 Switzerland, ever the land where the- 
 young and romantic paint the purest tri- 
 umphs of hallowed love, was fixed on by: 
 the bridegroom-elect as the place in which 
 he wished to receive the promised boon ; 
 and as Mr. Sedgewood had never been* 
 
!?22 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 there, notwithstanding his long vicinity, he 
 yeadiiy consented. The day before that 
 fixed on for the marriage, it was proposed 
 to make a small party on the lake of Gene- 
 va, in whose beautiful environs they had 
 fixed their temporary abode; two young 
 Englishmen and several ladies were of the 
 party ; but the latter declaring that the wa- 
 ter appeared so raugh they durst not ven- 
 ture, the marquis observed, he thought so 
 indeed; the Englishmen rallied tha young 
 nobleman on his cowardice, and observed, 
 that he had taken such a fright at his dip 
 in the Thames, they supposed he had had 
 the hydrophobia ever since : the marquis 
 had not the courage to avow his fears; he 
 protested he was ready to go on board with 
 the first, and sprang forwards for that pur- 
 pose ; his gay bride, proud of his spirit, 
 applauded the motion; yet Mr. Sedgewood 
 observed that as he passed her, and gallant- 
 ly saying '' adieu !** raised her hand Xo 
 his lips, that his countenance was indica- 
 tive of alarm, and he hurried on to conceal 
 his agitation. For an hour or two the lake 
 
SAYS SHE TO ITER NErCII-EOUR, WHAT ? 223^ 
 
 appeared becoming smoother, and the fe- 
 males regretted trie weakness which had. 
 lost them their diversion/ and suffered the 
 vivacious raillery of the disappointed Bar- 
 bara on that account, who wished a thou- 
 sand times that she had gone with them ; 
 but during the afternoon, a heavy storm o5 
 thunder and vain too fully justified the 
 prognostics of the morning, and the smi 
 set without affording one glimpse of their 
 return: all nightlong the distracted girls 
 and my venerable uncle traversed the banks 
 of the lake, employing guides, pilots, and 
 boatmen, to ascertain the situation of the 
 vessel; but the morning rose without be- 
 traying the awful secret ; and it was not till 
 a journey on the distant bank informed 
 them that the ill-fated vessel had sunk, 
 and, except one waterman and his boy, all 
 on board had perished. 
 
 To tell the agony of this *' parting 
 stroke'* is utterly beyond my powers; for 
 many a wearisome month did the fond pa*- 
 rent bend over his stricken child, as if the 
 order of nature were reversed, and he was. 
 
224 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ^ 
 
 called in duteous submission to await her 
 languid smile: he bore her to the classic 
 scenes of Italy, and pointed out whatever 
 could interest in antiquity or charm in art ; 
 ^and happily found his own strength renew- 
 ed, in proportion as his tender and effica- 
 cious energy was exerted. The poor girl 
 became sensible of her father's love, and 
 for his sake struggled to overcome the de- 
 pression of her withered heart; she en- 
 treated him at length to return to^their 
 own country, since it was evident tmt ha 
 eould now bear the climate, and England 
 was become as much a novelty to her, a& 
 any his aifection could now point out for 
 her amusement. The good man gladly 
 consented, and returned to gladden the 
 last days of his beloved brother, who now, 
 with him, rejoiced over the success of their 
 darling Theodore, or wept at his unmerit* 
 ed misfortunes, the peculiar circumstances, 
 of which, from motives of delicacy to $ir 
 Charles, had never been revealed till now, 
 nor would they, if that intimate intercourse 
 which leads us in conversation to reveal 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 2^5 
 
 thoughts we should not allow ourselves to 
 write, at length brought forwards the cir- 
 cumstance on which the earl had thought 
 proper to affix the barrier between the un- 
 fortunate lovers. The old gentleman was 
 now fast advancing to that period when he 
 must resign all earthly distinctions; but it 
 has been said, with great truth, that we 
 are most tenacious of life when we are 
 about to quit it ; and it might be added^, 
 so we are of every thing we consider as the 
 goods'of life also; so that if ever money, 
 or honaur have been esteemed by us, they 
 are held with a tenfold grasp by the trem- 
 bling hand which feels they must be soon 
 removed for ever. I have made these ob- 
 servations as a prelude to sir Charles's con- 
 duct. 
 
 The good old man was sitting with his 
 two gouty feet laid up on pillows before 
 him, or he would most probably have 
 risen to take the hand of his brother, who^ 
 was leaning on a table near him, andwhose 
 handkerchief was at his eyes; forthoiK'h 
 La. 
 
'^6 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 the aged do not shed many tears, yet the 
 remembrance of his son's sufferings, blend- 
 ed as they must now be with the blighted 
 hopes of his youngest darling, had bade 
 them course freely down his cheeks; at 
 this moment the baronet, leaning towards 
 him, said, with an expression of sorrow 
 contending wfth a warmer emotion — " And 
 is it possible. The, that for so many years 
 you should have suffered our gallant boy 
 to languish thus, while the means of help 
 vere in your power ?*' 
 
 Mr. Sedgewood instantly withdrew his 
 handkerchief from his eyes, and looked 
 wistfully in his brother's face. 
 
 '*' Aye, you may look, and /^o A; again,*' 
 said the old man, reddening as he spoke, 
 ^' before you find any thing in the counter 
 nance of Charles Sedgewood that tells you 
 he has deserved this want of confidence iii 
 any of you. You m^y call it delicacy to- 
 wards me. What do you suppose I could 
 have suspected you of, if you had told me 
 ajl these facts as they were developed to 
 you } why, of wishing that an old bache* 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? ^27" 
 
 lor would resign his title and estates to a 
 fine young fellow who was likely to make 
 the family tree flourish — a boy that he had 
 dandled on his knees, to whom he had 
 given his fondest affections, and whose race 
 would have been dear to him as the blood 
 that warms his heart veins. Oh, what fbl- 
 ly ! what madness is there in having any 
 secrets in families like ours ! There is a 
 pleasure, nay a virtue, in unbounded con- 
 fidence, which ought never to be sacrificed 
 to these impertinent scrupulosities. I sup- 
 pose if I had died while you were in France,, 
 you would have resigned every thing to- 
 Theodore directly ?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly; /was h\s father^* 
 
 " Umph ! so was //" 
 
 '* You perhaps think," continued the- 
 baronet, " that I was never so generous to 
 our dear The in his first outset inlife, as to 
 give you a rii^ht to believe that an old man 
 would give up that he had seemed to re- 
 tain as a young one ; and I can now see, 
 that I to9 have been to blame in not ex- 
 plaining to you my motives. Theodore 
 
Sf 8 SAYS SHE TO. HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 was a fine young man ; I thought he should 
 have the honour of pushing his own for- 
 tunes, and maturing his own virtues; and 
 as I had begun a plan of redeeming the es- 
 tate from the many dilapidations it had 
 suffered during the civil wars of Charles, I 
 "would not break in upon my plans till I 
 saw further occasion for it ; you were at 
 that tim© ihe father of a numerous family^ 
 and they all lay very near my heart, and 
 their mother-— — " (here the baronet's 
 ©yes watered ; and while his brother rose 
 to slowly pace the room, an invariable cuS'- 
 tom with him when her beloved name was 
 brought to his ear, he too stopped, unable 
 to conceal his agitation.) 
 
 '' Well, well,'* resumed the old man,. 
 *^ when our boys were all gone, I became 
 only the more anxious for The; but he 
 became unfortunately possessed of a join- 
 ture, you know, the last time he was down t 
 nor have I once seen him since his intro- 
 duction to this upstart lord, whose ances- 
 tor was first distinguished by being known; 
 to som^ of the dirty favourites of James I^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HEU NEIGHBOUR, WIIAT ? 2^9 
 
 and who has presumed to reject a Sedge- 
 wood. But as we must all submit to love, 
 why no wonder Theodore did it too ; and 
 had he but told we, all might have been 
 well, and this new lord satisfied ; he would 
 then have found whether I could part with 
 money or not, and he would have seen the 
 fields where it has been hoarding for my 
 boy. You have been living on frogs m 
 France, and wanted nothing ; but you da 
 not suppose if Barbara had brought over 
 her noble lover, that I had not made up a 
 dowry worthy his acceptance. Brollier, I 
 did not say as much to you either of my 
 motives or intentions as I ought to have 
 done, and you have not confided to me 
 your wishes or your wants as you should 
 have done ; but I believe I have been most 
 to blame, for in proportion as I felt my 
 heart warm with projects for your good, I 
 have been accustomed to seal my lips." 
 
 ** You have ever been good and kind to 
 every creature round you ; and i^ I had 
 known a positive want, I should never 
 have hesitated to reveal it; but the only 
 
230 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 one I ever had went to stripping you of 
 your dignity as well as property, and well 
 as I love my boy, I love my brother too; 
 you know you'became a married maa too, 
 and " 
 
 '' Why, aye/' said the baronet drily, 
 *' and I got a good wife too ; but you had 
 no fear of any heirs, hey ?" 
 
 '' Very true ; but ladies love titles, 
 and " 
 
 " And she will gladly resign hers. But 
 ^e will ask her," said the old gentleman, 
 '* for her resignation will not weary us with 
 its declamatory fulness." 
 
 When lady Sedgewood answered in per- 
 son to the baronet's inquiries, she heard the 
 story of Theodore's renunciation with up- 
 lifted hands and tearful eyes, and now and 
 then an ejaculation seemed to escape her 
 lips, though its sound was not heard; in 
 conclusion the baronet said— ^' Now, my 
 dear Mercy, it is my wish and my intention, 
 if agreeable to you, to resign my title and 
 estate, and retire to live in the jointure- 
 house with my brother, as it is, you kno\n 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 23 I 
 
 "big enough in all conscience; and send for 
 my nephew,, and let him bring this lady 
 Caroline down to us here, that we may see 
 his handsome Tdce and his lovely bride, and 
 their dear brats about us before we die; 
 but what say i/ou, Mercy, hey ?" 
 
 '^ I say, sir Charles, it is a very good 
 thought; and may God bless them and 
 theirs^ and send us all to see it put in exe- 
 cution !" 
 
 " Bravo, my good woman ; you haven't 
 made so long a speech since you told old 
 Hopkins how to cure his whitlow: so you 
 wont fret at hearing me plain Charles 
 Sedgewood, hey ?" 
 
 *' Why I shall be a little sorry, I con^ 
 fess; but not if the major can't be happy 
 without it/* 
 
 " But you wont fret after the house, 
 the servants, the state, the coach-and-six 
 going a snail's gallop, and the diamond 
 necklace and shoe-buckles, with the ear- 
 rings that pinched you so delightfully on 
 our last wedding'day, hey, Mercy ?" 
 
 '/ It is not very likely that a woman yoa 
 
2S2 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 chose should want any thing you thought 
 it right to resign in such a case as this— ^ 
 my mother was a Sedge wood, sir Charles." 
 
 " Trtie, Mercy, and your mother's 
 daughter is as good a woman as the whole 
 breed ever produced." 
 
 The lady smiled gratefully, through eyes 
 that twinkled with tears, and withdrew, 
 when the baronet, turning to his brother, 
 said — '' Weil ! now you will be easy, I 
 hope, for when lady Sedgewood has once 
 said a thing, she never retracts it, which is 
 one of the many extraordinary qualities 
 for which I married her. I have known 
 hundreds of women who, upon this occa- 
 sion, would have made a magnificent shew 
 of generosity, and have been impatient till 
 the hour arrived when they could throw 
 their honours, their very comforts, at the 
 feet of the lovely young couple ; but they 
 would have given many a long sigh after 
 them when the deed was done, and have 
 considered their successors as ever after 
 their debtors. This is not Mercy's way— 
 once resigned^ her sacrifice is made; mce 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? i233« 
 
 tcotij she is yours for ever. You would 
 be surprised that I married her, because I 
 professed to do it for want of a conipa- 
 nicn, rnd she was the most silent woman 
 of our acquaintance; but I proved my 
 judgment in women, for she has answered 
 the purpose wonderfully well.*' 
 
 " I see every day some trait in niy sis- 
 ter's character which assures me of the real 
 goodness of her heart; but unless some 
 very extraordinary occurrence, like the 
 present, induces her to speak, I cannot 
 perceive her improved as a companion." 
 
 " But you must surely have perceived, 
 since your return, that 1 talk ten times 
 niore than I used to do ; for like my grand- 
 father, sir Henry, of whom the historians 
 truly observed, ' He was a man of few 
 words,' I very seldom used to speak at all ; 
 whereas finding that my silent wife h^d 
 really a heart that beat responsive to a ge« 
 nerous sentiment, and an understanding 
 that fully comprehended a reason, I im- 
 perceptibly found pleasure in offering 
 them to her;i in return for the thousand si- 
 
S34 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT .^ 
 
 lent attentions which ray bodily ailments' 
 were ever receiving Jrom her quiet tender- 
 ness and active affection ; she understands 
 thi*, and her gratitude is as pleasant to me 
 as mine is amusing to her ; and we are be- 
 come the best company imaginable, for 
 there is only one tongue and one heart 
 between us." 
 
 " I rejoice in your happiness, my dear 
 sir Charles ; but I have known a great deal,, 
 where there were two tongues and one 
 lieart, as }ou have often silentlij witnessed." 
 
 " Aye, my dear The, but yours was nq 
 common lot; had that angel been spared, 
 vour bachelor brother would still have 
 borrowed a ray from the blaze of your 
 happiness to light him to the grave; but 
 we must not look back — come, let us think 
 of our conqueror, and the most ready way 
 to bring him, for as there is now a cessa- 
 tion of hostilities, he can come back with 
 honour; and if I am a prophet, honours 
 await, such as Brooksbury may be proud 
 to claim kindred with. It is many years 
 smce I went to court, and then I scarcely 
 
SAYS SHE TO IIER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 255 
 
 took a glimpse at them^ for the Stuarts 
 gave us all a sickening cf royalty, I be- 
 lieve, and we have had no great taste for 
 the German princes who succeeded them ; 
 but depend upon it, brother/^ said the ba- 
 ronet, rising as he spoke, as high as the 
 gout would let him, " depend upon it, 
 when Frederic fills the throne, I will once 
 more, with my boy in my hand, pay X\\e 
 tribute of honest respect to the sovereign 
 I can honour ; I will then say, that a Sedge- 
 wood, a descendant of that man whose 
 rights even the conquering Norman ac- 
 knowledged and upheld, a limb of that 
 body which has defied bad kings, protected 
 suffering kings, bled for a beloved prince, 
 but never stooped to sue to any prince, 
 can yet accept the kindness of a good one. 
 
 You shall then see, brother, that " 
 
 The entrance of the ladies and tea cut 
 short the baronet's speech, but not his en- 
 thusiasm; from this time his mind was de- 
 voted to one object, that of seeing his 
 nephew established near him ; but as it 
 was impossible that that nephew could 
 
^36 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 
 
 bless his longing eyes for a very considerable 
 period, he could not otherways divert his 
 impatience, than by projecting some plan 
 in unison with his favourite pursuit. The 
 house in which he resided was comfortable, 
 being a modern mansion, built on a beau^ 
 tiful spot of ground, about a mile from 
 that castle, in whose tremendous bulwarks 
 his ancestors had lived in feudal times, the 
 bounded sovereigns of a surrounding dis- 
 trict, ViViovied ever to be the most beautiful 
 and fruitful spot in the West-Riding, and 
 on that account loo often subjected to the 
 horrors of war dur^ing the time of border 
 ravages, and which having been demolish- 
 ed, along with seven other castles, by com-^ 
 mand of the Parliament, now presented a 
 line ruin, rather more pleasing to the ar- 
 tist than the surviving branches of the 
 Sedgewoods, I apprehend, since the house 
 they built immediately after, did not, among 
 its other beauties, embrace the picturesque 
 ruins of this castle, though they were seen 
 from many parts of the surrounding plea- 
 sure-grounds. Sir Charles Sedgewood 
 
■SAtS SHE TQ HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 237 
 
 lieard hrs brother and niece speak of the 
 many beautiful places they had seen abroad^ 
 and he determined to please himself, and, 
 as he trusted, the future bride of his nephew 
 too, by erecting a suite of summer apart- 
 ments, which should afford a prospect of 
 every thing most beautiful in the vicinity 
 of his mansion, and which should be fur- 
 nished in a style worthy the rank and me- 
 rits of the fair inhabitant. The most emi 
 nent projectors were consulted; the plan 
 no sooner arranged than the workmen 
 were employed ; and long before the ves- 
 sel arrived in India which was meant to 
 convey the welcome intelligence of recall 
 to his native land to Theodore, this friend- 
 ly beacon was raising its benignant head, 
 as if to beckon his return. The benevolent 
 heart of Barbara now found a stimulus to 
 exertion she had never found before ; and 
 in projecting improvements for her bro- 
 ther's marriage, there were times when her 
 native vivacity returned in its pristine vi- 
 gour, to the delight of her father and 
 uncle; but there were others, when her 
 
f3S SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUE, WHAT ^ 
 
 own marriage preparations, and all their 
 fatal circumstances, rushed on her mind, 
 and overpowered it with unutterable an- 
 guish, for extremes were blended in the 
 fine sensibility and genuine warmth of her 
 character; but their channel was now 
 turned to another object ; the good ba- 
 ronet, forgetful of himself, and unmindful 
 of the short but salutary counsels of his 
 lady, insisted on being carried out in his 
 gouty chair, to witness the finishing stone 
 laid on the top of the new building. This 
 was not an uncommon exertion; but he 
 protracted his stay till the cold damps of 
 evening fell ; and his enemy, which had 
 been some days giving indications of his 
 approach to the feet, was thrown upon 
 the stomach ; and the generous baronet, 
 after two hours of severe suffering, ex- 
 changed his fond hopes of seeing his fa- 
 mily flourishing around him on earth, for 
 a better seat among the family of heaven. 
 His sudden death, at this critical time, was 
 a severe shock to his widow and friends; 
 and the surrounding country felt it as a 
 
"Says she to her neighbour, what ? 239 
 
 -terrible affliction the virtues of his succes- 
 sor only could alleviate. 
 
 CHAP. X, 
 
 "What is lite but to shift from side to side, from sorrow 
 to sorrow ? Sterke. 
 
 The activity of sir Charles Sedgewood*s 
 mind, and his admirable method of ma- 
 naging his estate, and conducting his af- 
 fairs, made him a loss to the neighbour- 
 hood, which was not likely to be fully 
 compensated by the mild virtues and quiet 
 habits of his successor, who was now en- 
 tering his sixtieth year, and had lived too 
 long in the happy privacy of undistin- 
 guished rank and scholastic leisure to adopt 
 any other system, without deranging his 
 habits, and destroying that perfect free- 
 dom which was, to a man of his habits; in- 
 valuable. It was not without reason that 
 the late baronet had been at one period 
 
!§40 SAYS SHE to mn ^EfOtiBCtJ«, what ? 
 
 anxious to save a fortune : he saw that his 
 brother, though the most affectionate af 
 husbands and the most tender of fathers> 
 yet did not possess that kind of energy 
 which was necessary in a man, who at one 
 time was the father of ^ve sons, who might 
 not be all, like himself, content to till a 
 few paternal acres, and vegetate in virtu- 
 ous retirement. The wisdom and virtue of 
 his brother's life was undoubted; but it 
 was so little likely to be adopted-b)y his 
 sons, and still less by the wives his sons 
 would be likely to choose, that the baronet 
 saw some provision must be made to keep 
 the younger branches of the Sedgewoods 
 in their own place in society, or they must 
 be compelled either to the disquietude of 
 poverty, or the degradations of vicious de- 
 pendence. When they were taken away, 
 the dispersion of the family followed, and 
 the baronet found himself growing richer 
 than he expected ; though there was^ a 
 pleasure in accumulation, under the idea 
 that Theodore might yet return and enjoy 
 tt ; yet sir Charles did not allow that en- 
 
SaVS she to her NElGHBOtJR, WHAT ? 24 I 
 
 cf caching fiend, the spirit of accumulation, 
 to grow upon him ; he married a woman 
 of small fortune, on whom he settled a 
 handsome jointure ; he encreased his esta- 
 blishment, extended his charities according 
 to the judicious benevolence of his wife, 
 and thus encreased his happiness and his 
 consequence, and placed the name of 
 Sedgewood on the same footing it was a 
 century before, as appears from a state- 
 ivent in the reign of 
 
 '' Stop, sir ! you will never get to the 
 end of your story if you step back to the 
 family muster-rolls/' 
 
 Madam, I obey; but you have lost a 
 fine opportunity of hearing something 
 about king James I. when he went to take 
 possession of his English crown. I am 
 certain I have not shewn you one of my 
 family you don't like: my poor uncle of 
 whom I am speaking, ma'am, was a fine 
 n-oble-looking man, with a Ramilies wig, 
 and a face under it that Rubens might have 
 been proud of sending down to the latest 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
^42 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 posterity; he was good-tempered, warm- 
 hearted, and high-spirited; not quite so 
 interesting as his brother, I grant ; but I 
 question whether you would not hav^ cried 
 at his funeral, especially if you had seen 
 that brother, and could have beheld his 
 face as he approached the family vault, 
 where lay the ashes of her, and her little 
 ones, who was indeed 
 
 BelovM till life's last sigh be oV, 
 And mourn'd till pity's self be dead. 
 
 At the earnest request of the present 
 possessor, lady Sedge wood remained in the 
 family mansion until some information 
 from India should arrive to justify her re- 
 moval. When the first mourning was over, 
 sir Theodore and his daughter removed to 
 London, that they might be so much nearer 
 the object of their anxiety on his landing. 
 During their stay there. Miss Sedgewood 
 was presented ; and by a singular coinci- 
 dence, lady Caroline made her appearance 
 at court for the first time also, in obedience 
 to the long-repeated wishes of the earl ; the 
 
^AYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, tVHAT ? 24S 
 
 beauty, the foreign air, and the well- 
 known misfortune of the former, attracted 
 much attention ; and as lady Caroline with^ 
 drew from the presence, whither Barbara 
 was hastening, she inquired of the duchess 
 of Athol, who had undertook her intro- 
 duction — '' Who was the lovely girl with 
 such fine auburn tresses, so fine that she 
 had never seen them equalled but once ?*' 
 
 The duchess knew nothing of lady Caro^ 
 line's story, she therefore answered imme- 
 diately — 
 
 *' She is indeed a lovely girl, the only 
 daughter of sir Theodore Sedgewood. That 
 fine-looking old man is her father; I mis*- 
 took him at first for a bishop, but very 
 foolishly, for he is much more like an 
 apostle/' 
 
 The duchess perceived her companion 
 grew pale to faintness; she made her lean 
 upon her arm, and they soon after left the 
 room ; but the idea of being so n«ar to two 
 people unknown, yet so very dear, be- 
 came every moment a source of encreasing 
 
 M 2 
 
U4ti SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUI?, WHAT ? 
 
 perturbation to the still lovelorn Caro- 
 line. The sorrows, too, of the youthful 
 Barbara, so like her own, gave her an ad- 
 ditional -interest, and she longed to fold 
 her to her bosom, and call her sister. The 
 duchess perceiving her agitation, and be- 
 lieving it proceeded v/holly from the heat 
 and the novelty of the scene, to a person of 
 extremely retired habits, pressed forward, 
 and encreased the evil she sought to re- 
 medy ; and lady Caroline's trepidation was 
 encreased exceedingly. — " What shall I 
 do/' said the duchess, looking wistfully 
 towards some of her friends. The nearest 
 person was at that moment speaking to sir 
 Theodore; both the gentlemen came for- 
 ward; the heart of Caroline palpitated 
 more violently, as, seeing her situation, he 
 took her hand, and drawing it gently under 
 his own, followed the duchess. The air 
 revived lady Caroline, and she looked as 
 if she would have spoken, but the sound of 
 words died away upon her lips : sir Theo- 
 dore lamented that he had not the honour 
 of being introduced, but begged her to be- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NKIGHBOTTl?, WHAT ? ^4y 
 
 Keve he was happy in rendering thrs slight 
 service ; but entreated her not to fatiguer 
 herself by speaking. The sound of his- 
 voice, broken is it was by age, yet bore 
 an affinity to the major's, and every note* 
 rfunk into the heart of Caroline; yet her* 
 natural timidity, the consciousness that 
 many eyes were upon her, and most pro- 
 bably among the rest her father's, sealed 
 her lips, but she could not refuse herself a. 
 tender pressure of the arm that was sup- 
 porting her. Sir Theodore impufed this to 
 encreased v,eakness, and he besought her, 
 in the most fatherly manner, to lean more 
 upon him ; and in order to reassi>re her^ 
 said — " I have a daughter, madam, who 
 has been subject to much weakness of this 
 kind." 
 
 ' ** Yes! yes! you have iico daughters,"' 
 said lady Caroline, with quickness^ for her 
 gasping breath scarcely admitted words,. 
 
 *' and I — I Oh, sir Theodore, do you 
 
 Bot know me ? You must have heard o£ 
 Caroline ngleby." 
 
 < " M_) God^ I tiiank thee,!* said the bau 
 
246 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 lonet, while his gushing eyes bore wifness 
 how deeply his heart was afTected^ and for 
 a moment he held the trembling girl to his 
 bosom : they were now at the foot of the 
 stairs, and not knowing when he might be 
 permitted to see her again, he began in- 
 stantly to i^iform her that he had sent for 
 his son from India ; that he was holding 
 himself in readiness to invest him with the 
 title and estates of his uncle, the hour he 
 returned, and had come to London to 
 learn what forms were necessary, and to 
 
 receive him there ; and that he hoped 
 
 but, alas [ before the good man had the 
 j^wer to whisper that dearest hope, an old 
 gentleman, adorned with the insignia of 
 jjobility, with an air of chilling civility 
 said — " I will release you from your trou* 
 ble, sir; the young lady may now take the 
 arm of her natural protector." 
 
 Unnatural protector, sir Theodore would 
 have said, but be checked his words, but 
 not the look of cool contempt with whicb 
 he surveyed the nobleman, when gently 
 disengaging the hand of lady Caroline from 
 
SAYS Sir's TO" HER NEIGHBOUn, WHAT ? 247 
 
 his arm, and presenting it to her father — • 
 ** The lady is now better, sir; it is not the* 
 first time the earl of Brooksbury has re- 
 ceived a restored child from a Theodore 
 Sedgewood, I believe." 
 
 At this moment the duchess turned round 
 — '^ Good Heavens ! h'owstrangif it is, that 
 of all the people in the worlds you see sir' 
 The should be the person to support my" 
 young friend ! Lord Mordaunt h just tell- 
 ing me that your son, the general, saved 
 her brother, at the risk of his life, about'' 
 seven years ago, from drowning. How 
 very odd! — J dare say it was the remem- 
 brance of that very thing which helped to 
 affect poor lady Caroline, for she turned 
 pale the very moment she saw your daugh- 
 ter: no wonder ; gratitude for so singular 
 a favour was too much for her. I hear 
 there never was such a man as your son> 
 sir Th^ ; so handsome, all the women in 
 India are dying for him ; so brave, that he 
 is the very soul of the army ; and so good^ 
 that the Gentoos consider him an object^ 
 of idolatry/' 
 
§48 SAYS SHE TO BEH NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 The pale cheek of Caroline now glowed 
 with roses, luore vivid from their long de- 
 sertion, and for a moment gave to the fond 
 respectful gaze of the baronet a view of 
 those charms which had, captivated so en- 
 tirely the affections of his son : the duchess, 
 amiable> gay, and warm-hearted, thought 
 only on the subject she was speaking of, 
 and neither saw the blushing cheek of Ca- 
 roline, nor the bilious one of her tortured 
 father ; she continued — " In short, I never 
 heard of such a paragon ; if he chooses he 
 may marry an Indian queen, and live in 
 an ivory palace ; or a Persian princess, and 
 trample on diamonds — (surely, lady Caro- 
 line, you are not ill again?) or he may 
 build a haram as large as the park, and 
 stock it with Asiatic beauties, for his ene- 
 mies admire him as much as his friends 
 adore him, I am told ; and he equally 
 commands the services of both. 1 wish he 
 were come back ; the duke promises me 
 his acquaintance, and assures me there is 
 not a family in the kingdom that might not 
 be proud not only of his acquaintance^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 249* ' 
 
 But his alliance ; in fact, that there is nor 
 a father in the kingdom who might not be 
 proud of it.'* 
 
 *' The duke is very good to entertain^ 
 these sentiments, which my son, as far as 
 relates to himself, certainly merits; but it 
 is my misfortune, and his, to know there 
 is one father in= the kingdom who could 
 refuse him.** 
 
 " Some Ignorant man, who does not 
 know him;** said the duchess, '' undoubt- 
 edly ; when he comes back, your lordship 
 (turning to the earl) shall go to him, and 
 unfold a tale of his noble daring in your' 
 son*s defence, 'that shall barrow up hiS' 
 heart, and^ make his eyes* — my dear earl^. 
 how you stare! you think Tve forgot 
 Shakespeare, but I have not\ if' you were 
 to hear how I can recite — * Bow, stubborn 
 knees, and heart with strings of steel/* 
 you*d never forget me; or^how- admirable 
 I can enact the death of Beaufort, wheii' 
 the ' busy meddling fiend has got hold of* 
 his poor conscience, and is making a pin^ 
 
g50 SAYS SHE T© HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 cushion of it to stick bis fangs in ;* thqi I 
 have all the rest of the fine parts of his 
 other speeches in the greatest perfection^ 
 such as—' Ah ! but to die,, and go otie 
 knows not where ;' and,. * In that sleep of 
 death, what dreams may come I' and no- 
 thing can- be finer than my enunciation of 
 ' swear /' there, my lord, I saw it run thi'ough 
 you, and I am sure you must feel ihis^ 
 * Remember z/our oath r 
 
 The beseeching eyes of lady Caroline at 
 this moment obtained the mercy they had 
 long sought from the duchess, who, it wiM 
 be perceived, had heard a good deal from 
 lord Mordaunt, as he led hcE through the 
 lobby, where they had been forced to wait;: 
 and it may be presumed, that although the 
 duchess lived and died before quizzing had 
 been talked of, yet it was plain she was na 
 bad proficient in it ; and as she was consi- 
 dered a wit, and yet known to be a very 
 good-natured one, several persons of dis*- 
 tinction had assembled round her little 
 party, to the great distress of kdy Caro- 
 line^j who could not bear to see shame sife 
 
 i 
 
SAYIS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 251 ■ 
 
 on her father's brow, whatever were his . 
 just claims to the distinction. When the ^ 
 duchess ceased speaking, the group dis- 
 persed, walking away by two and three at 
 a time, each whispering to the other wh^t 
 they had known or surmised of the affair 
 alluded to by the duchess: she and lady 
 Caroline set off in her o:race^s carriaofe, but 
 the gentlemen returned to the drawing- 
 room, where sir Theodore was treated with 
 the most marked respect, and the pi-aises 
 of his son the theme of universal panegy- 
 ric. The earl of Brooksbury had once 
 loved, always admired major Sedgewood, 
 but of late years had hated him ; he knew, 
 however, perfectly well, that this hatred 
 proceeded only from the sense he had of 
 deserving his hatred, and the consciousness 
 that he must be despised by hioi. He was 
 now obliged to see that the man he had 
 scorned as a son-in-law, would have thrown 
 that lustre on his declining years, which-, 
 was, in his opinion, the only desideratum 
 of life; he learnt, too, that the^Sedgewood 
 estate was equal to the expence of any , 
 
252 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAtB 
 
 title royal beneficence might bestaw, and 
 he could not doubt but the Sedgewoods 
 might obtain any thing in that way they 
 chose to seek for; and he was so well ac- 
 quainted with the major's talents> that ho 
 could have no doubt of his success in the 
 cabinet being equal to that he had gained 
 in the field. In him the name andhonou? 
 ©f the earls of Brooksbury might haue beerv 
 preserved^i much better^ ia fact, than by, 
 the marriage he had. projected with tho 
 duke of Roverton> since the greater glory; 
 would have sw^aWowed up tlie less; and 
 though the duke hjad married soon after his. 
 disappqintment, he was still childless; hii 
 short, .whatever way the ear] looked, he be-» 
 held himself an isolated old. man, every: 
 day becoming of less consequence in so- 
 ciety; unall led to. the younger branches^ 
 of his courtly circle, and. forsaken by the. 
 old, who were either dropping into. the. 
 grave, preparing for it, or. clinging to their, 
 tender connexions for support they could, 
 lapt extend; he had but one hold on life^. 
 4)ne gentle being, who still smoothed tte 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 25 J 
 
 downward path of existence, and would 
 have softened all its asperities; but he- 
 could not look at her without seeing the 
 traces of past sufferings in her countenance^ 
 and remembering that he had driven her 
 to conduct which had, in its effects, proi- 
 duced the celibacy he now lamented'. 
 
 The earl, too much of a courtier to 
 show the mortification he experienced,, 
 profited from the information he gained 
 on this eventful evening, so as to learrt 
 what were the views of sir Theodore re- 
 specting his son'& future destination ; and 
 as he could nothelp feeling, in case of the 
 general's return and accession to his fa- 
 ther's rank, that his own consequence 
 would be encreased by becoming the fa- 
 ther-in-law of a successful general, after 
 consulting his pillaw, ho determined to^ 
 forget the mortifications of the evening,, 
 and, if possible, even the contemptuousv 
 brow of sir Theodore, and seek a concilia^ 
 tion where he had lately menaced an in-* 
 dignity ; he first began by. promoting an. 
 interview between Miss Sedgewood and; 
 
^54 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUn^ WttAT ? 
 
 lady Caroline, which was equally dear to 
 them both, and which laid the foundation 
 of a friendship that ended only with their 
 lives* When the baronet learnt that lord 
 Brooksbury was indeed desirous af conci-- 
 liating an intimacy, he was too sincere a 
 Christian to refuse him forgiveness, and 
 too much attached to lady Caroline to re- 
 fuse complying with overtures which could 
 not fail of being agreeable to her; so that 
 notwithstanding the vindictive emotions 
 under which they first met^ in the course 
 of a few weeks, there was as^much intimacy 
 between them as was necessary for a gene*- 
 ral good understanding; — friemlship be- 
 tween characters so opposite was altogether 
 impossible. 
 
 In the meantime, another campaign had 
 been renewed in India, and it became a 
 question whether Theodore could leave the 
 army under existing circumstances: the 
 first dispatches spoke still flatteringly of 
 his valour, and there was reason to hope 
 that success would be the forerunner of 
 peace^whick would undoubtedly bring him- 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 255 
 
 home : it did not appear from these letters 
 that he had received the pressing solicita- 
 tion of his uncle to return again. That 
 sickness which ariseth from hope deferred 
 sunk the renovated spirits, and preyed on 
 the fragile form of lady Caroline; but she 
 exerted herself; and where she could not 
 command fortitude, she submitted to pa- 
 tience. At length the last vessels an*ived 
 from India, and the general came not; 
 but dispatches, respecting the army were 
 still looked for by government. To be- 
 guile the tedious time, the earl proposed 
 the party adjourning to his country-seat, 
 leaving a servant in London, who should 
 lose no time in forwarding intelligence; 
 to this they consented, and the young Ian 
 dies delightedly withdrew to a scene more 
 congenial to their feelings. Here the 
 goodness of lady Caroline had a field for 
 the exercise of that benevolence which 
 weaned her own heart from sorrow, while 
 it relieved the sorrows of others; and here 
 Barbara had an opportunity of seeing how 
 nobly the wealth of a large income may be 
 
^50 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT P 
 
 dispensed; her generous heart rejoiced in 
 the extended means of good which was 
 lately granted to her father, and which she 
 had not yet had an opportunity of rejoic- 
 ing in, for mere splendour had little to en- 
 gage a heart that yet languished in its wi~ 
 dowhood. Their rides and walks were fre- 
 quently extended considerably, and had 
 ificluded nearly every village within live 
 or six miles; but lady Caroline remarked' 
 one day,: they must go farther still, to in- 
 clude the circle of all her acquaintance ;: 
 and as Miss Sedgewood expressed a desire 
 to see all, the first fine morning afterwards* 
 they set out for the village of Thorp, 
 which included in its way the temptatiom 
 of spending an hour with lady Egerton,. 
 who had long ere this been acquainted 
 with the favourable circumstances in which* 
 her dear young friend's affairs now stood :: 
 after engaging to dine with her oa thein 
 return, they proceeded to the entrance o^ 
 the village, where they alighted ,* and ladyr 
 Caroline giving her arm to Miss Sedge- 
 wood^, bent her steps towards a neatcot'^ 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 257 
 
 tage, ill front of which was a small garden, 
 where two children were laid on the grass- 
 plot, the elder presenting flowers and cakes 
 to the baby, as if he had undertaken the im- 
 portant office of nurse, though himself was 
 still young enough to claim the cares of 
 one. 
 
 While the ladies stopped a moment at 
 the wicket gate, to contemplate the lovely- 
 form of infantine affection. Miss Sedg^- 
 wood remarked, that there was an unusual 
 number of people in the cottage, and she 
 had an idea it was some grand festival. 
 
 " Then we will not call to-day,'* said 
 lady Caroline. 
 
 At the sound of their voices the little 
 boy looked up, and springing on his feet, 
 cried out, as he ran into the house — - 
 '* M udder, mudder, she is corned; own 
 lady is corned again.*' 
 
 *' The urchin has discovered us, so we 
 might as well go forward," said lady Caro- 
 line, stepping on to the cottage. 
 
 A modest-looking young woman, neatly 
 dressed in her holiday apparel^ sprung ta 
 
^58 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 the door, and welcomed lady Caroline with 
 a smile that was instantly followed by a 
 tear; but there was equal happiness in 
 both> and Miss Sedgewood thought she 
 had never seen welcome so gracefully ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 '' My good Sally, I rejoice to see you 
 well," said lady Caroline, '' but I fear I 
 have broken in upon you at a bad time 
 (waving her hand to the rustic visitants to> 
 keep their places); I wish I had come any 
 other day." 
 
 ^' Surely not, my lady, for this wilK 
 ever be the day, of all days in the year, I 
 shall love the best, I be very sure." 
 
 " It is your wedding-day I guess, hey, 
 Sally?" 
 
 *' Yes, my lady, an what's more, 'tis 
 the versary of that blessed day when you 
 first came among us; God forbid I should 
 ever forget it!" said Sally, again brushing* 
 a grateful tear. 
 
 " Yes, my lady," said a good-looking 
 dark man, who had just took his youngest 
 child in his arms; '' and when, two yeara 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER XEIGIISOUH, WHAT? 5259 
 
 after^ you procured my discharge, and I 
 came home, I couldn't persuade her to be 
 married till this day came round; and to 
 tell your ladyship's goodness the truth, we 
 have all been to brother Will's wedding 
 this very morning/' 
 
 William, with an awkward bow, now 
 came forwards, leading a blushing bride, 
 who having never been seen by the fine 
 ladies before, could not feel the ease in- 
 their presence experienced by those who 
 had been the happy partakers of her boun- 
 ty, and v^ho owed every comfort they en- 
 joyed to her goodness; but their conci- 
 liating manners soon relieved her. Lady 
 Caroline insisted on tasting their bride- 
 cake — inquired where William's cottage 
 lay; and by many kind inquiries proved 
 that interest in their affairs so dearly esti- 
 mated by the humble children of labour: 
 she then begged the bride to tell her can- 
 didly if there was any way in which she 
 could contribute to her happiness. The 
 young woman, looking her new-made 
 spouse in the face^ hesitated, '' Speak 
 
260 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 out to her ladyship^ Nancy," said the hus- 
 band, '* if you have any thing to say, be- 
 case for why, it does her heart good to 
 help every body: if it hadn't a been for 
 she, ye know Thamas and I should have 
 been tossing on the salt ocean, or may be 
 laid down in the bottom, and sister there 
 >\xaring her heart away, instead of nursing, 
 her own children by her own fireside, and 
 the man she loves sitting by her. A very 
 great difference," added William, with a 
 knowing nod, as he looked round^ at the 
 humbler part of his auditory. Thus en- 
 couraged, the young woman ventured to 
 say, that her father's lease for his little 
 farm was nearly out, and she had been- 
 told that lord Egerton was going to take 
 it into the park, which made her very un- 
 happy, lest her parents should lose their 
 home in their old age. 
 
 *' Haven't I told you," said William, fn- 
 terrupting her, with an offended air, " that 
 I will—" 
 
 *' I know you will do any thing you can^ 
 my dear William ; but you know you told 
 
^AYS SHE TO IIER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 26 1 
 
 tne to speak to madam, and so I did ; for 
 I was sure and certain that one word from 
 she, to any lord, would settle the matter 
 at once." 
 
 '' You are perfectly right, Nancy/* said 
 lady Caroline ; '' and depend upon it that 
 my word shall not be wanting on behalf of 
 your parents; and with i^o good a landlord 
 as lord Egerton, there is little doubt of my 
 success: but have you no wants for your- 
 self, Nancy?" 
 
 " Oh no, my lady,'* said the bride, as 
 her eye shot a beam of tenderness to her 
 William, which dispelled the vexation that 
 had made a transient visit to his generous, 
 honest countenance. 
 
 The feeling heart of lady Caroline was 
 not slow to read the lanouaore of untutored 
 feeling, and a gentle moisture rose to her 
 eye as she said — '' Well, Nancy, 1 will not 
 forget either you or your parents; and 
 may God grant that you may never know 
 any contention with your husband, save 
 which of you shall best fulfil your duties, 
 or prove the sincerity of your attachment." 
 
^2 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 She then shook hands with Nancy, wished 
 the party a good morning, and retired 
 amid a silent but admiring sense of grate* 
 fill love and respect. 
 
 All the way home, the ladies conversed 
 on the sorrows and merits of Sally Handy, 
 whose story my readers are already ac- 
 quainted with, and in contriving some use- 
 ful present for the new housekeepers. It 
 ■was long since lady Caroline had felt so 
 truly alive to the sweet influences of hope, 
 or dared to bring home a scene of happi- 
 ness similar to that she had witnessed to 
 her own heart. Miss Sedgewood perceiv- 
 ed her happy friend was now allowing her- 
 self to rest on the sweet visions of long- 
 protracted hope, and she rejoiced in her 
 happiness; but it recalled forcibly the 
 sense of her own situationi on which the 
 sun (as far as regarded this world) was 
 for ever set, and that resignation only 
 could be hers — an involuntary sigh re- 
 minded lady Caroline of the melancholy 
 difference now discernible in the fate of 
 her she had often considered similar in 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NErcHBOUK^ WHAT ? 263 
 
 suffering, and she checked her own spirits. 
 After spending a pleasant day at lord Eger- 
 ton's^ and pleading their little cause very 
 successfully with his lordship, they returned 
 home. They did not find either of their 
 fathers in the usual sitting-room ; and on 
 inquiry, found that the earl had retired to 
 his room, and sir Theodore was either there, 
 or gone into the grove — '' Being, poor 
 gentleman, quite overpowered as it were, 
 so that he can neither speak nor any thing 
 else, said the servant." 
 
 '^ Overpowered/' said Miss Sedgewood; 
 '^ what do you mean ? is my father ill ?'* 
 
 *' Yes sure, rniss; but you know no- 
 thing about it; and he said 'twas of no use 
 sending for you ; you should be happy as 
 long as you could." 
 
 '' Johnson, what is the matter?'* 
 
 Lady Caroline, unable to speak, could 
 only look the same terrible question. 
 
 *' Why, ma'am, my lady, I'm very sorry 
 to say that Dixon be come; and it seems 
 there has been an engagement in the In- 
 
g64 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT? 
 
 gees, and poor general Sedgewood^ itseems^ 
 is ^" 
 
 Lady Caroline dropt senseless on the 
 floor; Johnson, alarmed, exclaimed — 
 '' Not dead indeed, my lady; I did not 
 say he was positive dead," 
 
 '' Is he — my brother ! speak ! is he 
 alive ?" 
 
 *' I doubt not ; there seems no chance 
 of that." 
 
 '' How you torture me! tell me all, all — 
 1 insist upon it.'* 
 
 *' Why, ma*am, there was a terrible en- 
 gagement, and the major, I mean the ge- 
 neral, though I knew him a major, you 
 know, miss, and a handsome man he was; 
 but, as I was saying, he led on his troops 
 like a hero, and carried the day ; but it is 
 supposed he fell from his wounds, as he 
 was seen streaming with blood just before 
 the conclusion of the action. His body 
 was not found ; but the necessity there 
 was of burying the dead immediately, gives 
 too much room to suppose, that being 
 
^AYS SHE TO HER NE!GHE0"UP,>;V^AT? 2o3 
 
 disfigured with blood and dust^ he was, ifi 
 the hurry of the service, thrown into the 
 general grave, as no other particulars have 
 been heard of him." 
 
 Lady Caroline was slowly recovering her 
 senses, -in the arms of his weeping daugh* 
 ter, when sir Theodore entered the room : 
 he saw at once the dreadful information 
 was given, and his sorrows were freely 
 mingled with hers, who knew not till now 
 how closely she had nurtured in her heart 
 the germ of that hope which was now rent 
 thus cruelly from her bleeding bosom ; yet 
 she was sensible of som.e consolation, front 
 beholding the father of her beloved Theo- 
 dore thus sympathizing in her grief, and 
 endeavouring to bestow the support her 
 sorrows so much wanted; but it was only 
 in the depth of retirement her heart could 
 gain fortitude to endure the stroke, since 
 i^ was only there she could look up to that 
 heavenly Father for strength to bear the 
 l?urden of those sorrows with which hesavf 
 ijt^orood to afflict her. 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
^6 SAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 When some days had been given to the 
 ^rst demands of nature on this dreadM 
 occasion, during which time the earl of 
 Brooksbury had seldom appeared among 
 the mourners, he one day surprised his 
 daughter, by proposing to remove her to 
 his seat in Hampshire, as being likely to 
 benefit her health and amuse her feelings; 
 but he did not make any proposition of this 
 nature to his guests. 
 
 Sir Theodore observed, that he had flat- 
 tered himself the earl and lady Caroline 
 would accompany him to Yorkshire for 
 that very purpose. 
 
 The «arl " was obliged, very much 
 -obliged to his dear friend, sir Theodore 
 Sedgewood ; but the health of his invalu- 
 able daughter forced him to renounce that 
 pleasure ; he knew the north air was bad 
 for her constitution, which exactly resem- 
 bled his own, whereas the sea breeze would 
 prove restorative to both." 
 
 Lady Caroline, throwing herself into 
 the arms of Miss Sedgewood, wept freely, 
 and the pitying eye of sir Theodore said 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NtrGHBOUR, WHAT ? 267 
 
 SO plainly — '' They ought not to be part- 
 ed/* that the earl could not misunderstand 
 its language ; he therefore observed, that 
 the young ladies were evidently of great 
 disservice to each other, by encouraging 
 inordinate affliction ; and that for his part, 
 he was quite shocked to perceive Miss 
 Sedgewood suffer so much from the claims 
 so perpetually made on her sympathy. 
 
 In a few days these amiable women bade 
 each other a long and sad farewell. 
 
 Each of these exemplary daughters be- 
 came to her parent the tender solace of his 
 age, and made up to him, as far as it was 
 possible, the ptivations and chasms which 
 every man in the decline of life must ne- 
 cessarily feel ; but there was a material dif- 
 ference in the success of their endeavours; 
 for whilst one daughter was enabled to 
 smooth the passage of life to her parent, 
 ^he other, with the same views, equal ten- 
 derness, and more meekness, appeared t(y 
 be the source of many a thorn in the path 
 of life to hers — the matter stood thus. 
 N 2 
 
'^S" SAYS SHE TO HEH ^NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ? 
 
 Notwithstanding the seclusion in which 
 these ladies endeavoured to live, yet their 
 rank in life, their personal charms, and 
 their well-known virtues and accomplish- 
 vnients, for several years rendered them, in 
 their several circles, objects of admiration, 
 «ind they were sought in marriage by men 
 of r&nk and respectability. On these oc- 
 casions the eaH of Brooksbury, if the pro- 
 posal accorded with his notions of aggran- 
 dizement, never failed to demand his 
 slaughter's acceptance of it; and when she 
 •told him that her heart forbade the union, 
 he became so fretful, peevish, and unkind, 
 her existence was rendered burdensome 
 from his ill-humour. On the other hand, 
 when sir Theodore represented to his 
 daughter, that " he should have much 
 jcomfort in seeing her the wife of some 
 worthy man, who should become the pro- 
 tector he maist soon cease to be, and who, 
 by adopting her name, might still preserve 
 the niemory of their ancient house,'* and 
 she too replied, that her heart was whelm- 
 ed beneath the wave that destroyed her 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER MEIGHBOUR, WHAT? ^69' 
 
 only love, the good man gave a gent?e 
 sigh, and said, he would never distress her. 
 bv uro^ino: his wishes. 
 
 w Oct 
 
 The consequence of the earl's distress^ . 
 ing pertinacity was this — lady Caroline . 
 adopted the idea, that notwithstanding 
 the silence which still sealed his fate, that 
 her beloved Theodore was still living, and 
 that her father vv^as aware of it; and she; 
 was the further confirmed in this, from his - 
 positively insisting on her dropping allr 
 correspondence with the Sedgewood fami-; 
 ly. This hope, however vague and ground-' 
 less, was the support of her mind through: 
 many years of suffering, and was another" 
 proof how frequently our successful sins: 
 become our eventual punishers, since the 
 consciousness of having been once duped 
 by the earl's duplicity had awakened a sus-. 
 picion in her mind^ which was, in hct^ 
 without foundation; but which, became 
 the groundwork of that meek, but steady: 
 opposition to his wishes, it is not probable; 
 would have taken place under any oihec 
 circumstances. 
 
37D SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGIIBOUB, WHAT t 
 
 On the other hand. Miss Sedgewood fe]t 
 it a duty and pleasure to obey the wishes 
 of a father, so reasonable in themselves^ 
 and offered to her with so much delicacy. 
 Among others who sued for her attention, 
 was the honourable Mr. Elland, a son of 
 lord St. Aliens, a young man of mild^ en- 
 gaging manners, graceful, though ^slight 
 in his person, generous and amiable in his 
 disposition, but of delicate health and re- 
 tired habits. For this, interesting young 
 iMai), Barbara felt a degree of tenderness, 
 which she endeavoured to improve inta 
 that affection which might enable her ta 
 fulfil to him the duties of a wedded part- 
 ner ; and as she had every opportunity of 
 cultivating favourable impressions, and the 
 heart of a woman of sensibility could not 
 have many more engaging objects present- 
 ed to her choice, the barbnet had soon the 
 satisfaction of perceiving that his daughter 
 entertained a very serious prepossession in 
 his favour, and that he had every prospect 
 of seeing her perhaps nearly as happy as 
 she could have been with liim who was the 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOORj WHAT ? 'itl 
 
 object of a more ardent passiorf. But, 
 alas ! there appears a fatality attending the 
 loves of this excellent, but most unfortu- 
 nate lady — the young man, who was de- 
 voted to her in the most fond and tender 
 manner, declined in his health as he ap- 
 proached the zenith of his happiness, and 
 before the period fixed on for their mar- 
 riage, he became far advanced in a decline. 
 As pity was now added to friendship. Miss 
 Sedgewood found herself more and more 
 attached to the dear being from whom she 
 ivas about to be separated for ever ; and- 
 before the final scene took place, she was 
 convinced, from bitter experience, that it 
 is indeed possible to love a second time, 
 with all the tenderness, if not the violence, 
 of a first attachment ; and so acute were' 
 the sufferings she experienced from this 
 second disappointment, that even her fa- 
 ther never could prevail on himself to lead 
 her mind towards forming another engage- 
 ment ; and he now looked only to the di- 
 vine mercy to console the mind of his 
 
^!T^ SAYS SHE TO HER NJElGHBOlfR, WHAT ? 
 
 daughter, and teach resignation to him- 
 self. 
 
 There were not wanting, at that- time of 
 day, those who censured both these ladjes, 
 vs romantic, affected, and ridiculous, in 
 thus suflfering the disappointments of love 
 to prevent them from enjoying the charms 
 which state, splendour, and fortune, still 
 held out for them — '' Such lovesick airs: 
 they thought well enough in their teens;' 
 but when a woman got towards thirty, 
 'twas positively silly to the last degree— 
 * men would die, and worms would eat 
 *em 'y but it did not follow, that women 
 ivere to pine to death after them, so long 
 as others were left in the world, ready and 
 •willing to supply their places." Yet if 
 either of these amiable women, duly con- 
 sidering this convenient doctrine, had 
 taken to themselves a spouse, she would 
 have said to her neighbour—'' How true 
 it is, that fickleness and inconstancy are 
 the characteristics of women ! the most me- 
 lanclioly fate binds not her heart ; the most 
 
STAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ^ 2TC^ 
 
 awful vows impose no shackles on her con- 
 science: let a poor man be once laid \i\ 
 his grave, 'tis all over with him ; he is for- 
 gotten, notwithstanding his merit, his- con- 
 stancy, and his misfortunes; the first up^ 
 start that comes in her path is accepted ;. 
 and notwithstanding all the parade of sor- 
 row and sentiment these sighing. ladies 
 have made, they are like the old proverb^,. 
 and conclude ' that a living^ ass is better 
 than a dead lion/' 
 
 This was the way '^ she used to talk to 
 her neighbours'* the middle of the last 
 century ; but she is so wonderfully im- 
 proved since then, that, in a similar case^ 
 she would have informed you not only oy 
 a lapse of sentiment, but, very probably, 
 a lapse of condwct in the ladies. In this 
 ease, " 'twould have been no wonder they 
 remained single so long, seeing they look* 
 ed upon themselves as widows;, that, in- 
 deed, poor creatures, they had been a'j 
 good as wives — for her part, she should be 
 so?rj to make reflections on any botly,, in.-. 
 1} 3- 
 
^7i SAYS SHE 1& HER NEIGHBOUB, WHAT ? 
 
 3 case which seemed so very hard ; nor di^ 
 she like to give ear to such things; but 
 certainly there was something very odd m 
 lady Caroline's being so long at lord Eger~ 
 ton's; during which time, to her own cer- 
 tain knowledge, for she had it from ladyr 
 Egerton's maid^s sister's daughter, she ne- 
 ver wore any thi|>g bu-t loose morning 
 gowns for six rfionths, which, had a very 
 odd look, with it, especially as she took a 
 journey, rambling nobody knew where^ 
 so sooTt after. It must be granted, lady 
 Egerton was the most correct woman in- 
 the woi^ld; quhe a prude indeed; but 
 prudes had often concealments of their 
 own; nobody knew what had passed to 
 herself in her youth, so she might have a. 
 fellow-feeling ; there is no saying how the 
 matter was ; but certainly there are people- 
 in the world who must suspect lady Caro- 
 line, notwithstanding ker sanctity and mo?- 
 desty.'' 
 
 Then as ta poor Miss Sedgewood^^' she, 
 paor thin^^ was barely eighteen, and the. 
 jnarquis under ag^e ;. there was na saying 
 
SAY^ SHE TO HER NETGHBOtTR, WHAT? 275 
 
 what might happen with two young peo- 
 ple, when there was no mother to take 
 care of the girl. It always seemed strange 
 that Mr. Sedgewood should go dangling 
 into Italy, and them places, instead of 
 bringing his daughter home at once. No- 
 body knew what happened abroad ; but 
 one of the men said — 'His young mistress 
 was very bad at Florence, with seeing a 
 picture so like the marquis, that it made 
 her faint on the spot, and she wouldn't go 
 out again for a fortnight.* Well, well, I 
 scorn an ill-natured conclusion as much as 
 any body ; but it is much to me if a minia- 
 ture of the marquis wasn't the picture that 
 touched the poor girl so nearly at that 
 time. But, however, these things had 
 best be forgot and forgiven ; only when- 
 people set themselves up for saints, as ir 
 were, and make a fus^ about their constan- 
 cy, and all that, one cannot help remem- 
 bering these things. It was a happy thing 
 poor Elland died when he did ; he was a 
 poor creature; and his gay wife (for gay^ 
 she is by nature) would have led him a-- 
 
f76 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, WHAT> 
 
 f ne dance, if they had gone to live ia 
 Xom3on.*' 
 
 Such is the improved state of the society 
 we live in, that the spirit which used merely 
 to find fault wi^h its neighbour, is now sa 
 obliging as. to 7naA'e the faults, and place* 
 them in so accommodating a point of viewy. 
 that we cannot help findiag them, and> 
 "wondering at the stupidity of our former- 
 blindness, which prevented us, in the com-, 
 nion incidents and every-day occurrences 
 @f life, from seeing most wonderful in- 
 trigHes,^ most solemn contrivances, and> 
 most: gigantic vices, which those, thus, 
 gifted with this admir-able second-sigh t>. 
 nev^ev fail to observe. 1 cannot help be- 
 lieving myself, that the optics of many of 
 my good neighbours experience this spe-^ 
 €Jes,of divination^ much in the same way. 
 that the inhabitants of the Highlands. are 
 said. to possess theirs; and as that ispeca- 
 liar to the northern parts of tiie island^.^ 
 which thus possesses. a decided superiority 
 mev the southern in the art of foreteWing^^ 
 S dojiQt see any. reason. whj; we shouldaiat. 
 
SAYS- SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR, ^VHAT ? ^TT 
 
 claim to ourselves like honours in the arC 
 of W2/5telling, which I therefore propose 
 %o consider as likewise proceeding fpom 
 second-sight ; and which, as being equally^ 
 Kke with the other to proceed from the 
 mysterious influences of bad spirits, may, 
 with considerable propriety, so far as it is« 
 deemed '* a gift," be supposed a devilislii 
 gift ; and so far as it is considered an art>. 
 be called a black art. 
 
 We are told, thatr the Highland seers, \\v 
 the moments of the exercise of their func- 
 ^ions, fall into various contortions, and? 
 evince terror of the object before them;^ 
 are sometimes flushed and sometimes pale>. 
 and seem willing to fly from the vision, 
 which is, nevertheless, necessarily impres- 
 sed upon their imagination ; so tliat they 
 are evidently acting, and acted upon, by 
 a power superior to their own, and, as^ 
 they would insinuate, very opposite to» 
 their ownvvill and nature. In like man- 
 lier, 1 have frequently observed, that per- 
 sons possessed with tlie southern second; 
 ^ightj with whatsvei! anxiety thsy may- 
 
^78 SAYS SHE TO HEU NEIGHBOUR, WHAT ^ 
 
 hasten to reveal their oraeles, and however 
 evident it may be to all around them, that 
 they are as full of inspiration as the Py- 
 thian priestess, and can no way rest, eat, 
 or even breathe, till tliey have got vent 
 for the foul spirit which is inwardly tearing 
 and consuming them, yet never fail ta 
 betray certain symptoms of uneasiness, or 
 express themselves in terms of self-condo- 
 lence, on being actually obliged to deli- 
 ver that to the world, which they are ma- 
 nifestly unable to conceal any longer 
 ^an I have observed in the little circle 
 of my neighbours which, I mentioned in 
 my first chapter, and who will, I well 
 know, sit in judgment on every chapter of 
 this my first book ; that whenever Mrs» 
 Featherbottom sits in judgment on her ac- 
 quaintance, slie generally precedes her 
 sentences by three distinct tosses of the 
 head, a long, and, as I apprehend, very 
 painful tension of the vertebras; and then^. 
 ■with a nasal twang, quite distinct from the- 
 voice with which she inquires after your 
 liealth, or invites you to the breast of a. 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOTJP, WHAT ? 279^ 
 
 chicken, she prefaces her vision of vice 
 by declaring — '' She is quite sorry to say 
 it, and really would not say it for the 
 world, if it was not proper that such wick-' 
 edness should be discountenanced ;'* and 
 then proceeds to say what it is plain she^ 
 would not, or could not, keep an hour 
 longer on any account. 
 
 Before lady Frances Slickerton com- 
 mences her operations, I observe that her 
 eyes are affected with a certain disorder, 
 which occasions them to dart out long,, 
 malignant glances, as if to take in the sense 
 of the company at one moment, and to see 
 where their vulnerable parts lie in another, 
 so that she may be enabled at once to 
 wound the absent, and cut the present by 
 the same sally — thus she addresses a hand- 
 some woman on the subject of some fallen 
 beauty, who may thank her fine face foe 
 her present dishonour; and she tells the 
 mother of a famiJy, of the disgraceful,, 
 ruinous conduct of her neighbour's child- 
 ren ; yet she too winces under the demon 
 T(^hQ commands her, and never lails to de- 
 
9S(X SAYS SITE TO- HER NEIGHBOtTi?, WHAT ?- 
 
 dare — '' It mates her blood run cold to 
 hear of such things;" while she draws up 
 her gown, strokes down her apron, and 
 sidles in her seat, as if her chair bottom 
 had been stuck full of pins with the points* 
 upwards. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Maxwell, without being pos- 
 sessed of the more malignant powers of 
 the second-sight, and who really relates 
 mischief for sorrow's sake, experiences the 
 same symptoms in a milder degree; yet 
 she never begins a tale of slander without 
 giving several deep, doleful sighs, and 
 appearing to turn her eyes inwards, as if* 
 to say — '' Ah ! there is sorrow enough inf 
 my heart, whatever there may in those I^ 
 am going to talk about/* 
 
 Violent flushing of che face^ an unmuaF 
 trepidation in the tongue, a quick tremu- 
 lous motion of the hand or foot, and an 
 exclamation of^ — '' I really have no pa- 
 tience to see such things !'* and many other 
 febrile symptoms, indicate the distressing- 
 sensations experienced by both Mr. and^ 
 Mr5> Parley on these^ occasions-; while sa 
 
SAYS SlfE TO ITER NEZGHBOITR, WKAT ? 2&1 
 
 extreme anxiety to speak, a distressing" 
 watchfulness of the eye, a languid listless- 
 Bess towards all around them, and an irrit- 
 able restlessness, contending with that list- 
 Icssness in all that concerns themselves, 
 mark the nervous affection under which 
 the Misses Robinson suffer when the slan- 
 dera roinancia is upon them, so diflerenf^ 
 and yet so distressing are its etTects, so ma- 
 nifest its contortions. 
 
 In Mrs. Manby I must allow the posses- 
 sing demon is a merry one, nor does he 
 condescend \o use any of the eternal apo- 
 logies of — '' For my part, I don't believe 
 a word of it ; and / should be the last per- 
 son to credit it; but what can one do? facts 
 are stubborn things." — Or — " lam sure it 
 grieved me to the heart — I was inexpres- 
 sibly hurt; but there is no denying it:" on 
 the contrary, this lady boldly promulgates 
 whatever she hears, with such emendations 
 and comments, that two-thirds of the edi- 
 tion may be fairly considered her own ; 
 and as she makes few converts to her as- 
 sertions^ nor seems desirous of making anjv 
 
282 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGIIBOUK, WHAT ? 
 
 but retails scandal for the simple pleasure 
 of proving how fine an opportunity her 
 neighbours' errors afford for the exercise 
 of wit, volubility^ and mirth, which is 
 probably the reason why she suffers less 
 than others in delivering her opinions and 
 decisions. In the case of doctor Cantha- 
 rides, the operation of the inspiring de- 
 mon is exactly the reverse; for although 
 his bantling falsehoods seem to be a puny 
 race, and present themselves in a form so 
 equivocal, being garnished and tricked^ 
 out with all convenient truilis^ yet he: 
 parts with them with as much difficulty as 
 if they were giants, a circumstance which 
 can only arise from a consciousness, that 
 although, like '^ the locusts, they are a^ 
 pigmy race, yet they go forth to destroy 
 the land;" and it is impossible to see the 
 doctor settle his wig three times, by vio- 
 lent twitchings at the ears, draw up his 
 mouth and chin, or witness the general 
 cramp which purses his lips at the moment 
 of speaking, without being sensible that 
 he suffers equally with the Highland seer;> 
 
fiAYS SHE TO HER KEIGHBOUR^ WHAT? 283 
 
 who perceives a procession of carf candles 
 and shrouds, with his own bringing up the 
 rear. 
 
 " Pray, sir, what have you done with 
 the history of your grandfather?" 
 
 My dear madam, I was talking of my 
 neighbours, and telling you their faults; 
 and if you have any sympathy in your na- 
 ture, you must forgive me — it is one of 
 those things which ever detain people, 
 whatever may be the urgency of their bu- 
 siness, from the woman of quality, who 
 has twenty-seven visits to pay in one morn* 
 ing, to the poor gossip who meets her 
 n-eighbours at the baker's shop, when she 
 is fetching a loaf for half-a-dozen hungry 
 children ; v^hat an amazing progressive 
 distance is between them ! but they have 
 one thing in common, one little propen- 
 sity, which alike marks them daughters of 
 Eve — " They only just stop to mention to 
 one person v^^hat they have heard that is 
 bad of another person, that is all/' I will 
 return now, my dear madam, to my grand- 
 father with all convenient speed ; but as 
 
2S4 SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUK^ WHAT P 
 
 he is now in the East IndieS;, which is rt 
 place at a very considerable distance, and, 
 moreover, in his grave, a place we are 
 willing to believe still more distant, I think 
 we will take another volume for the re- 
 commencement af his story, which volume, ^ 
 I trust, will travel with amazing celerity 
 over the remaining adventures of my an-^ 
 cestorSj as 1 really feel impatient for the- 
 honour of presenting myself more imme- 
 diately to the contemplation of my dear^ 
 patient, accommodating readers ; having 
 always observed, that although people take 
 pleasure in displaying the good parts, or 
 the wonderful enterprizes and dismal suf- 
 ferings of thase who are dear to them> 
 yet they have a still greater complacency 
 in detailing such things as are exhibited, 
 accomplished, or endured by themselves ; 
 and so great is the satisfaction derived by 
 such relation, that in many instances it su- 
 persedes even the pleasure of talking of 
 our neighbours; and it will be rarely 
 found, that a confirmed egotist is a great 
 scandal-monger;, and though appearances.-. 
 
SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUR^ WHAT ? 285 
 
 nt present may contradict the assertion, 
 yet I declare, upon the honour of a Sedge- 
 wood, that so much more highly do I es- 
 teem the former character than the latter, 
 that it is my sincere hope, " to that com- 
 plexion I shall come at last/* 
 
 END OP VOL. u 
 
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