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 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
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 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/munstercottagebo01roch
 
 THE 
 
 MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY, 
 
 3 Cal*. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 BY 
 
 REGINA MARIA ROCHE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 THE CHILDREN OF THE ABBEY, TRECOTHICK BOWER, MONASTERY 
 
 OF ST. COLUMB, SjC. SfC. 
 
 And yet poor Edwin was no vulgar boy. BEATTIE. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Uontron: 
 
 Printed at the Minerva Press for 
 
 A. K. NEWMAN AND CO. LE A DEN H ALL-STRE E 
 
 1820.
 
 13 
 
 THE 
 
 MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 *sr^r**^**vr^r**^*^ 
 
 ... 
 
 a We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i' the s-un, 
 And bleat the one at th' other : what we chang'd, 
 Was innocence for innocence. We knew not 
 The doctrine of ill-doing; no, nor dream'd 
 That any did." 
 
 AFTER experiencing many painful vi- 
 cissitudes, and being long the sport of ad- 
 verse and capricious fortune, Mr. Beaumont, 
 towards the decline of life, found himself 
 quietly seated, with his wife and grand- 
 daughter, in a small retired residence on 
 - the southern coast of Ireland. " The waves 
 that poured their drowsy murmurs on the 
 VOL. i. B 

 
 2 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 shore," washed the base of the rocky ele- 
 vation on which his cottage stood, com- 
 manding a view, boundless as human . 
 wishes, and grand and varied as imagina- 
 tion could desire : but the events that had 
 depressed his mind, and rendered him in 
 consequence pleased at the idea of retire- 
 ment, had not altogether produced the 
 same effect upon the feelings of. his wife. 
 Of a different temperament and disposition, 
 she yet retained a buoyancy of spirits that 
 did not permit her exactly to relish the 
 idea of looking at the world only through 
 " the loopholes of retreat." But her wish 
 still to mingle a little in its gaieties was 
 not entirely on her own account ; she was 
 ambitious of a superior establishment for 
 her granddaughter, and fancied she had 
 only to be seen to have this secured. 
 
 The misfortunes of her mother, how- 
 ever j rendered Mr. Beaumont cautious and 
 slow in hearkening to the suggestions of 
 his wife concerning her; he certainly was 
 not without ambition on her account.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. S 
 
 but still the recollection of past occur- 
 rences impressed upon his mind the neces- 
 sity of wariness and circumspection. 
 
 Through some of the reverses above al- 
 luded to, her mother, at an early age, had 
 been compelled to accept the situation of 
 governess in a gentleman's family at some 
 distance from her home ; here she had not 
 long been, when chance introduced her to 
 the notice of a gentleman in the neigh- 
 bourhood who had previously been mar- 
 ried. His fortune was reported to be con- 
 siderable, and his person and manners both 
 so agreeable, as shortly to enable him to 
 make that impression upon the mind of 
 the innocent and susceptible Miss Beau- 
 mont he wished : but though, of course, 
 his own master, he had many reasons for 
 not wishing to have his attentions to her 
 publicly known. 
 
 His late lady was very highly connected; 
 
 and so persuaded was he, from the pride 
 
 and haughtiness of the noble family to 
 
 which she had been allied, that to unite 
 
 B2
 
 4 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 himself to a person so inferior in rank 
 would occasion a total relinquishment of 
 all further intercourse between them, that 
 he resolved against the measure, circum- 
 stances rendering it not improbable that 
 he might yet require their interest, both 
 for himself and his son. But his seductive 
 allurements failed of success with the ob- 
 ject of his admiration, and finding her 
 principles were not to be undermined, 
 either by the blandishments of art or the 
 temptations that wealth enables the liber- 
 tine to throw in the way of innocence, he 
 so far departed from his original determi- 
 nation as to marry her privately. 
 
 For some time she remained satisfied 
 with the reasons he assigned for the con- 
 cealment of their marriage ; but when at 
 length her situation demanded its acknow- 
 ledgment, and she urged the measure, he 
 protested she must be in a dream, he hav- 
 ing taken care to put it out of her power 
 to bring forward any proofs of the cere- 
 mony.
 
 THE MUN&TER COTTAGE BOY. 5 
 
 Finding, from his base precautions, it 
 was utterly impossible for her to substan- 
 tiate her right to a name she now bitterly 
 deplored having ever given herself a title 
 to, she returned to her unhappy parents. 
 
 The statement she gave could not be 
 discredited : they knew her too well to 
 believe her capable of misrepresenting facts. 
 But while they were convinced of her 
 wrongs, with mingled grief and indigna- 
 tion they saw it was impossible to redress 
 them : but not able to flatter themselves 
 that the confidence of others in her prin- 
 ciples would be the same as theirs, to pre- 
 vent any stigma attaching to her, they re- 
 moved with her to a place where they 
 were utterly unknown, except by a person 
 who had formerly lived in their service; and 
 in whose humble dwelling taking up, their 
 abode, every necessary preparation was 
 made for the confinement of Mrs. Dun- 
 donald, but not without admitting Caty 
 to their confidence, their proud hearts 
 shrinking from the thought of having it
 
 b THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 even suspected by her, humble as her rank 
 in society was, that the child about being 
 ushered into life was the child of infamy* 
 
 Here, in due course of time, the little 
 Albina was born, and here the earthly sor- 
 rows of her mother were terminated : she 
 died shortly after the birth of her infant, 
 with her last breath hoping it might be a 
 source of comfort and consolation to her 
 parents for all the sorrow she had herself 
 occasioned them. 
 
 To describe their heart-rending anguish 
 for her loss would be impossible. When 
 all w r as over — when the earth had shroud- 
 ed this fair flower, so prematurely cropped, 
 the wretched father wrote to her cruel de- 
 stroyer to acquaint him with the melan- 
 choly event, and implore his doing justice 
 to the memory of his injured daughter by 
 the open acknowledgment of her child. 
 
 To this an answer was received, but not 
 one by any means calculated to appease 
 the resentment of the bereaved father. 
 After expressing his regret for the tidings
 
 THE MUSSTER COTTAGE BOY. 7 
 
 transmitted, he proceeded to aver that 
 Miss Beaumont had had no claim upon 
 him but what she derived from love, in- 
 stigated by which, he was ready to take 
 her child under his protection, but cer- 
 tainly not as one he would ever openly 
 acknowledge. 
 
 Except he did, Mr. Beaumont firmly de- 
 cided she should never be committed to 
 his care. Believing at present it would 
 be useless to litigate the point, he resign- 
 ed her to Caty, and with his wife return- 
 ed to his residence. 
 
 In about five years after, their affairs 
 became sufficiently retrieved to allow of 
 their retiring from business, and they im- 
 mediately repaired to the place where they 
 had left their grandchild, with an inten- 
 tion of settling there, as a place where 
 they could take her under their own care, 
 and acknowledge her without any injury 
 to the memory of the deceased. 
 
 They found poor Caty by no means 
 improved in her circumstances. Shortly
 
 fr THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 after their first visit, she and her husband 
 Pat had been tempted to open, what is 
 there called a little shabeen-house, namely, 
 a public one ; but, unfortunately, poor Pat 
 proving himself their best customer, things 
 got so much in the retrograde order, that 
 he was soon led to believe a transatlantic 
 trip would not be amiss. Accordingly, 
 with his son, he shipped himself off, leav- 
 ing poor Caty, to her great grief, behind 
 him ; but, till he had got himself settled in 
 some way, he conceived it better she should 
 remain where she was. 
 
 A little girl under her care, whom they 
 had never heard of before, excited much 
 curiosity in the minds of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Beaumont, particularly in that of the latter. 
 At first they imagined it her own, but she 
 quickly undeceived them. In disclaiming 
 it, however, for hers, she made no men- 
 tion of those to whom it belonged — a cir- 
 cumstance which, considering her natur- 
 ally communicative temper, they consider- 
 ed rather strange.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 9 
 
 To penetrate into any thing that ap- 
 peared mysterious was, to Mrs. Beaumont 
 at least, an inexpressible gratification : but 
 in vain she sought to develop this ; Caty 
 kept her secret, guarding against even a 
 hint that could lead to a conjecture on the 
 subject. 
 
 The little Fidelia was about the age of 
 their grandchild, and be she whose she 
 might, nothing could exceed the idolizing 
 fondness of her nurse for her. Though 
 policy might have dictated a greater shew 
 of kindness to a child whose friends were 
 at hand to notice it, disdaining all art and 
 cunning, or perhaps incapable of practising 
 any in this instance, Caty seemed to take 
 a pride as well as pleasure in evincing, on 
 every occasion, a preferable regard for Fi- 
 delia to her other little charge, often, by 
 her manner, intinn ting her deeming her 
 of much superior consequence, to the no 
 small displeasure and indignation of Mrs. 
 Beaumont, whose pride would not permit 
 her to brook that a little cabin-brat, as in 
 B 3
 
 10 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 her angry fits she called her, should be' set 
 above her lovely grandchild. 
 
 The innocent being, of whose conse- 
 quence she thus early became jealous, re- 
 mained too entirely un tinctured by those 
 feelings not to delight more in the com- 
 pany of her little foster-sister than in any 
 thing else. Reared together, they could 
 not bear to be sundered ; and at length 
 Caty and she became little more than the 
 nominal occupiers of the miserable cabin 
 of the latter, to the no small comfort of 
 Caty herself, who had latterly much 
 oftener kept fast there than the ritual of 
 her church enjoined. 
 
 In one way or other she contrived to 
 render herself useful, instinctive shrewd- 
 ness teaching her that the bread of idleness 
 was seldom given without grudging. Thus 
 almost domesticated at Mr. Beaumont's, she 
 frequently heard* the discussions that took 
 place relative to Albina, the previous con- 
 fidence reposed in her preventing Mr. and 
 Mrs. Beaumont from having any restraint
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 11 
 
 before her. These discussions still ended 
 in a renewal of the resolution never to re- 
 sign her to her father, except he acknow- 
 ledged her in the way they wished, al- 
 though it might be advantageous to do so. 
 Caty listened and mused, and finally be- 
 came decided in carrying into effect the 
 idea it suggested. 
 
 Five years passed away without any 
 thing new occurring, during which the 
 education of the children progressively ad- 
 vanced, Caty still contriving, by one means 
 or other, to procure for her immediate 
 charge every advantage bestowed on the 
 other; and never perhaps were these beau- 
 tiful lines of Shakespeare more applicable 
 than to them — 
 
 " Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 
 As if their hands, their sides, voices, and minds 
 Had been incorporate : so they y;rew together, 
 Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, 
 But yet an union in partition ; 
 Two lovely berries moulded on one stem." 
 
 At the expiration of the above period,
 
 12 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY, 
 
 Caty, longing to join her husband and 
 son, decided on following to America, and, 
 in place of the child he was refused, leav- 
 ing Fidelia with Mr. Dundonald as his 
 own, and thus having the satisfaction of 
 thinking she had secured to her a provi- 
 sion such as she was certain she would be 
 unable to obtain her where she was going. 
 
 Having fully made up her mind as to 
 her plans, she avowed her intention of 
 proceeding to her husband, and taking 
 Fidelia with her. Mr. Beaumont, under- 
 standing that her prospects were very un- 
 certain, pressed her at least to leave the 
 child behind her, promising to take every 
 requisite care of her ; but she peremptorily 
 refused, and would have done so, even 
 though she had not believed herself as- 
 sured of a better provision for her than he 
 could possibly make, owing to the envy 
 with which she saw her regarded by Mrs. 
 Beaumont. 
 
 A journey of fifty miles brought her to 
 the magnificent seat of Mr. Dundonald.
 
 THE MUNSTEK COTTAGE BOY. 13 
 
 As she approached it, her rapture could 
 scarcely be restrained at the idea of having 
 her darling established in such a place. 
 
 Mr. Dundonald, one of the most osten- 
 tatious of men, left nothing undone in- 
 deed that could attract the eye of admira- 
 tion. Speculation was his rage, and va- 
 nity and ambition his incentives to it. 
 Scotland was his country, but he soon 
 quitted it to try his fortune elsewhere. 
 London was the first scene of his exploits; 
 but finding too many competitors in the 
 adventuring line there, he proceeded to 
 Ireland, where he succeeded beyond his 
 expectations. 
 
 Years rolled away, and found him lite- 
 rally adding house to house and field to 
 field : there was nothing speculative he did 
 not engage in. He built a town — was a 
 great means of the establishment of mail- 
 coaches — opened a bank — purchased the 
 estates of ruined spendthrifts — erected 
 barracks, and obtained contract after con- 
 tract from government for the supply of
 
 14 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 the military depots, one of which he took 
 care the town of his own erecting should 
 be, where, in a mansion of the first de- 
 scription, he lived in a style of the great- 
 est elegance and splendour. 
 
 Caty speedily obtained a private au- 
 dience, and revealing the purpose for which 
 she had desired it, presented Fidelia to 
 him as his own, pretending she had been 
 thrown entirely on her by the Beaumonts, 
 and that necessity compelled her to bring 
 her to him. 
 
 Having by this time completely gotten 
 the better of any remorseful feelings occa- 
 sioned by his conduct to Miss Beaumont, 
 Dundonald would gladly have excused 
 himself from accepting the charge she 
 brought him ; but rinding that impossible, 
 he endeavoured to make the best of the 
 matter, and getting rid of her as quickly 
 as possible, set off the next day with Fide- 
 lia for England, to place her at a school in 
 the neighbourhood of London, with a fix- 
 ed determination of doing nothing more
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 15 
 
 for her than could enable her to make ex- 
 ertions for herself when she grew up. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime 
 Has felt the influence of malignaut star !" 
 
 At this school were the two daughters of 
 a Mr. Bryerly, an Irish gentleman : they 
 soon took a fancy to the new pupil, from 
 her liveliness and good temper, and in con- 
 sequence she was frequently invited home 
 with them. 
 
 She had been about a year at school, 
 when, as she was about returning there 
 with the Misses Bryerly, after spending 
 the Christmas holidays with them, Mr. 
 Bryerly was informed that the governess, 
 madame Le Gros, had taken herself off to 
 the continent, doubtless to save herself and 
 creditors unnecessary trouble.
 
 16 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 This circumstance was of little conse- 
 quence to the Bryerlys, but of the great- 
 est to Fidelia, as she neither knew the 
 name of her reputed father, nor of his 
 abode, having been purposely kept in ig- 
 norance of both, and her Irish method of 
 pronouncing the name of the place where 
 she had been brought up rendered it im- 
 possible to make it out. 
 
 Every thing that could be devised for 
 discovering those to whom she belonged 
 was done, but in vain ; but conceiving 
 it impossible that she would not be in- 
 quired after, and a remuneration made for 
 any protection afforded her, both Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bryerly, after some deliberation, de- 
 cided on letting her remain with them. They 
 both belonged to Ireland, but had quitted 
 it long since, in pursuit of something bet- 
 ter than they could obtain there, and in 
 which Mr. Bryerly had succeeded, by 
 shortly getting himself established in an 
 advantageous though rather speculative 
 business.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 17 
 
 But young as Fidelia was, she soon had 
 experience of the difference there is be- 
 tween voluntary and enforced attention. 
 The Misses Bryerly were soon taught to 
 consider her a dependent, and all the little 
 gratifications she had hitherto met with 
 quickly ceased. Accustomed, from the 
 earliest period, to the greatest indulgence, 
 this cruel and sudden reverse filled her 
 little heart with grief and dismay. A hope 
 of yet being sought after by those on 
 whose tenderness she might rely, still, 
 however, mitigated these* and enabled her, 
 if there was a gleam of sunshine in her si- 
 tuation, to enjoy it. All regular instruc- 
 tion had ceased from the time of her leav- 
 ing school, but that which she had previ- 
 ously received, united to good abilities, 
 permitted her to profit sufficiently by the 
 lessons she heard the Misses Bryerly re- 
 ceiving from the different masters that 
 now attended them at home, to prevent 
 her suffering much by its cessation. 
 
 But neither her good-humour, her good-
 
 18 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY*. 
 
 nature, or willingness to oblige, occasion-* 
 ed any alteration in her treatment. As 
 the expectation of being relieved from the 
 burden they thought proper to consider 
 her on them became diminished, their 
 usage became worse, till at length she be- 
 came almost a kind of slave and scapegoat 
 in the family — the person who was to be 
 ready at the beck of any one, and on whom 
 all the petulances of ill-humour and vexa- 
 tion were ever sure to be vented ; and if at 
 times her swelling heart, indignant of such 
 treatment, forced a murmur from her, she 
 was threatened to be put out to some ser- 
 vile business ; but still, like some beauteous 
 fiowret of the spring, that, spite of nipping 
 frosts and blighting storms, breaks out the 
 glowing ornament of the advancing season, 
 she grew up lovely and amiable in every 
 respect. 
 
 She was about seventeen when the 
 Bryerlys went one season on an excursion 
 to the seaside, taking her with them, not 
 to gratify her, but still to have her ser-
 
 THE MUNSTfcR COTTAGE BOY. 19 
 
 vices. In vain did she often sigh to be 
 allowed some little enjoyment of the scenes 
 she was amongst — in vain did her languid 
 cheek at times imply the necessity of this; 
 she was still restricted and confined, chain- 
 ed to work, and immured from company. 
 It would not have been good policy, indeed, 
 in Mrs. Bryerly or her daughters to have 
 exhibited so fair a face; they took care, 
 however, not to allow her to suppose she 
 was capable of inspiring envy. 
 
 They had been a short time at the seaside, 
 when they received a card for a ball to be 
 given by the officers quartered in the place. 
 Delighted by the invitation, they imme- 
 diately commenced preparations for the oc- 
 casion, and, as usual, Fidelia was called 
 upon to assist in these. 
 
 Requiring trimming for some dresses 
 she was decorating for them, she was dis- 
 patched to a milliner's for it. She found 
 the shop crowded with belles, all intent in 
 looking at finery, and giving orders for
 
 20 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 the approaching occasion with their at- 
 tendant beaux. 
 
 The careless gaiety of all formed a con- 
 trast to her feelings, that made her ex- 
 perience still greater melancholy : ex- 
 cluded from all enjoyment, unowned, ne- 
 glected, solitary, and disregarded, it seem- 
 ed to her at the moment as if there was 
 "no tear but of her shedding, no sigh but 
 of her breathing." Oh, why, she almost 
 passionately demanded of herself, had she 
 been cherished in the bosom of tenderness 
 but to be cast at random on the w f orld ? 
 Vvnn'i cGLild have occasioned the barbarity 
 of her desertion ? Had all that loved her 
 died, or had her idea been utterly effaced 
 from their recollection ? But she would en- 
 deavour to ascertain — an existence joyless 
 as hers was not endurable. 
 
 Some time elapsed before she w r as at- 
 tended to; but, shrouded in a large bonnet, 
 plain in her attire, and unassuming in her 
 air, she hoped she had not attracted obser-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 21 
 
 vation. This was not the case, however; 
 her form, " fresher than the morning rose 
 when the dew wets its leaves," had attracted 
 the eye of one of those military libertines 
 that so often infest places of this kind, and 
 on her quitting the shop he followed. 
 
 She was not immediately aware of the 
 circumstance. The house occupied by the 
 Bryerlys was at some little distance from 
 the town, and though commanded to has- 
 ten back, Fidelia was involuntarily linger- 
 ing by the way, anxious to prolong the 
 transient enjoyment, when steps, still fol- 
 lowing close upon hers, made her at last 
 turn, and she beheld lord Killeny, as the 
 hero that chose to single her out was called. 
 
 Directly surmising the truth, and alarm- 
 ed at being an object of pursuit, from the 
 strictures to which it might expose her 
 from the Bryerlys, but too well inclined, 
 she knew from sad experience, to put the 
 worst construction on every circumstance 
 connected with her, she suddenly turned 
 into a path but little frequented, and hur-
 
 THE MUXSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 lying on. thus effected her escape. But 
 ■what was her consternation when, just as 
 she reached the house, she missed the lit- 
 tle parcel she had been carrying! 
 
 Hastily she retrod her steps for the pur- 
 pose of seeking it : but in vain — it was 
 not to be found, and she knew not what 
 to do. At length, under a faint hope that 
 she might have dropped it at madame 
 Rugemont's in the confusion she could not 
 help feeling at finding herself amongst so 
 many strangers, she resolved on proceed- 
 ing thither, though not without extreme 
 reluctance, from her dread of encountering 
 her pursuer again. 
 
 The first object she beheld on entering 
 it was him, leaning on the counter, in con- 
 ition with madame, in whose house he 
 had teken up his quarters. On seeing 
 him. Fidelia involuntarily drew back; but 
 the emergency she was in required haste, 
 and there being no one else then there to 
 engage the attention of madame.. she ti- 
 midly advanced, and mentioning what had
 
 THE MUXSTER COTTAGE BOY. 23 
 
 "happened, begged a search might be made 
 after it. 
 
 This, however, was as fruitless as the 
 one previously made by herself, and in 
 absolute agony she clasped her hands, un- 
 mindful at the moment of being observed. 
 She shrunk from encountering the vio- 
 lence she knew the accident would occa- 
 sion, yet pride made her unwilling to give 
 utterance to what she feared. At last 
 this yielding in a degree to terror, she 
 begged to speak aside to madam e, and 
 candidly confessing that a fear of incur- 
 ring the imputation of carelessness ren- 
 dered her verv unwilling to let Mrs. Brv- 
 erley know what had happened, said she 
 would deem it an obligation for a little 
 while giving her credit for the same quan- 
 tity of trimming she had lost, 
 
 With a rudeness that those to whom 
 but a few minutes before she had been dis- 
 pensing her fascinating smiles and honeyed 
 flatteries would not perhaps have thought 
 her capable of, madame was on the point o£
 
 24 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 refusing her, when a significant wink from 
 lord Killeny, who through her had over- 
 heard what was passing, prevented her, 
 and with a change of countenance as sud- 
 den as if owing to magic, she answered in 
 the affirmative — " Oh, assurement /" she 
 said — nothing could possibly give her 
 more extatic pleasure than to oblige made- 
 moiselle ; and hastening back to the coun- 
 ter, she quickly produced what she requir- 
 ed, entreating to know, as she put up the 
 trimming, whether there was nothing she 
 required for herself — no little ornament, 
 or French lace, or gloves, or perfumery ? 
 — " Mon DieuT she exclaimed, what 
 custom she should have, had she a person 
 so charmante to exhibit her things ! 
 
 u But who the devil, madam e, do you 
 think would look like her in them ?" de- 
 manded lord Killeny, as, still leaning on 
 the counter, he continued staring under 
 the bonnet of the blushing Fidelia. — 
 M Upon my soul, I have not seen any one 
 so handsome this age ! But where the
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 25 
 
 deuce, my lovely girl, have you been 
 hiding yourself since you came here ? 
 Curse me, if you must not come to our 
 ball ! I'll send you a card, and remember, 
 you must dance with me. Hang me if I 
 dance with any one but you, for after you 
 there won't be a woman in the room worth 
 looking at." 
 
 Frightened at the idea of this intended 
 compliment, lest the Bryerlys should con- 
 ceive she had made an acquaintance with 
 him, Fidelia, while she thanked him for 
 it, assured him positively she never went 
 into public. 
 
 With a look of gratitude to madame, 
 she would then have departed but for the 
 dread of being accompanied by him. 
 
 While lingering from this idea, two 
 fashionable belles, to whom he was known, 
 came bolting in, and seizing him in a 
 manner that would not permit his escape, 
 allowed Fidelia to effect hers. 
 
 A torrent of invectives burst forth on her 
 reaching home for her long stay; and how 
 
 vol. i. c
 
 2b THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 doubly rejoiced was she from this circum- 
 stance, that lord Killeny had been prevent- 
 ed joining her, lest this should have been 
 imputed to him ! But her ^nind conti- 
 nued greatly agitated : all she was allowed 
 was for mere necessaries, and if madame 
 was not satisfied to share this as she re- 
 ceived it, she had no alternative but to 
 dispose of a parting gift of her nurse's, 
 which, both on this account, and from the 
 strict injunction given with it to treasure 
 it with care, she felt most unwilling to re- 
 sign. 
 
 Two days passed without any new occur- 
 rence : on the third a billet was privately 
 delivered to her from madame, requiring 
 to see her as soon as possible after receiv- 
 ing it. 
 
 She instantly became alarmed : that ma- 
 dame wanted to see her for the purpose of 
 urging her demand, she almost imagined, 
 which, if the case, would compel her to 
 part with her nurse's ring. Suspense, how- 
 ever, was too painful to be endured, and
 
 THE MTJNSTER, COTTAGE BOY. 2? 
 
 the absence of the Bryerlys from home 
 for the day on a party of pleasure leaving 
 her free, she hastened to obey her. 
 
 She entered with apprehension; but 
 what was her relief, when, instead of the 
 expected demand, madame met her with 
 open arms, and hurrying her into a par- 
 lour, assured her her only reason for send- 
 ing for her was to entreat her acceptance 
 of a beautiful piece of French silk, and 
 some tasteful ornaments which she had 
 purposely selected from a parcel just re- 
 ceived from Paris, and which it would 
 be doing her all possible kindness to ac- 
 cept, for she had never seen a being 
 she had taken such a fancy to ; but all 
 must love and admire her, and as for the 
 young handsome lord up stairs, he had 
 done nothing since he had seen her but 
 talk and dream of mademoiselle. 
 
 " Oh, this is all very foolish, madame," 
 said Fidelia, laughing ; and while she 
 thanked her for her intended kindness, 
 positively refused to accept it. 
 c 2
 
 28 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 They were arguing the point when lord 
 Killeny entered. He affected surprise at 
 seeing Fidelia, and forcibly taking her 
 hand, congratulated himself on his good 
 fortune for doing so, and at the same time 
 reproached her for the slip she had given 
 him the other day, and her cruelty in ren- 
 dering herself so invisible, protesting, since 
 he had discovered her residence, he had 
 not ceased wandering about it, in hopes of 
 meeting or seeing her again. 
 
 "Ah! I have been telling mademoi- 
 selle," cried madam e. 
 
 " Pshaw !" exclaimed his lordship, check- 
 ing what further she was about saying; 
 then, still retaining the struggling hand 
 of Fidelia, and trying to draw her further 
 from the door — " Pray have the goodness, 
 madame, to pick me out a dozen of your 
 best York tan. Damn me ! if one wouldn't 
 think the last gloves I got from you were 
 dug out of Herculaneum !" 
 
 "Ah, comical!" cried madame, but obey- 
 ing as she spoke.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 29 
 
 Fidelia immediately strove to follow, 
 but opposing the attempt, lord Killeny 
 was proceeding to a very explicit declara- 
 tion of his passion, when the colonel of his 
 regiment, who had been to seek him up 
 stairs, now entered the parlour, sans ce- 
 remonie, to do the same below, aware of 
 his often loitering away some of his morn- 
 ing hours with madame and her pretty 
 handmaids. 
 
 All that could be conceived of manly 
 beauty or elegance was strikingly display- 
 ed in the appearance of colonel Grandison. 
 He was on the point of railing at lord 
 Killeny for not attending to a message he 
 had sent him, when suddenly stopping- 
 short, after surveying him and his com- 
 panion for a moment — " Oh! now I see," 
 he said, with a significant look, " to what 
 your forgetfulness of your morning's en- 
 gagement was owing." 
 
 Confused, distressed beyond expression, 
 Fidelia now burst indignantly from the
 
 30 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 relaxed hold of lord Killeny, and retreat- 
 ing from the room, was hastily passing 
 through the shop, when madame called to 
 her to know where she was going, pro- 
 testing she would be quite in despair if 
 she did not dine with her that day, my 
 lord Killeny having sent her in the most 
 delicious dessert, and a hamper of the most 
 exquisite wines, and accommodated her 
 besides with the use of his apartments, 
 commanding from the viranda a view that 
 would enchant her ; and in the evening 
 they would go out to hear the band play, 
 or perhaps take a drive in a barouche she 
 had always at her command ; and, in short, 
 as odious ill-natured Mrs. Bryerly and her 
 daughters spent the day out, there was 
 nothing to prevent her, and excuse her she 
 would not. 
 
 ^Fidelia coldly replied, by no means 
 pleased with the conduct of madame, it 
 was utterly impossible ; and was again on 
 the point of quitting the shop, when lord 
 Killeny, after politely almost wishing the
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 31 
 
 colonel to the devil for his interruption, 
 rushed forward, and again seizing her hand, 
 prevented her. 
 
 With a scream of joy madame declared 
 she was glad he had come out, for she had 
 in vain tried to prevent mademoiselle 
 going. 
 
 "Nor will I be prevented now," said 
 Fidelia, struggling to pass. " Unhand 
 me, sir ! Madame, I insist on your not 
 allowing me to be detained." 
 
 But in vain she might have insisted 
 and entreated, had not colonel Grandison 
 been present. He followed from the par- 
 lour, and having satisfied himself, by the 
 countenance and agitation of Fidelia, that 
 she did not feign what she did not feel, he 
 hastened to her rescue, and succeeding in 
 liberating her from her persecutor, conti- 
 nued to guard the door till he had seen 
 her out of sight. 
 
 Lord Killeny was not a little provoked : 
 various motives, however, withheld him 
 from giving way entirely to his rage.
 
 82 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 " A pretty fellow you are !" at length 
 said the colonel : " again at your old tricks ! 
 A fine hopeful youth mon pere and man 
 mere recommended to my care !" 
 
 " Upon my soul, I wish you would be- 
 stow it entirely on your own affairs !" half 
 sulkily rejoined lord Killeny. " A good 
 joke ! recommend me to the care of a per- 
 son scarcely older than myself! — But they 
 are wise ones." 
 
 " Well, but to the point i for Heaven's 
 sake, Killeny, how can you think of an- 
 noying a modest female ? If the looks 
 are a criterion, the poor girl that has 
 just escaped from you is really so." 
 
 " That's the very reason," said his lord- 
 ship, as they left the shop, " that I pursue 
 her. I would not give a curse for the fruit 
 that drops into my mouth the moment I 
 gape for it." 
 
 " What a strange perverseness," return- 
 ed the other, " to seek the destruction of 
 that which you acknowledge the chief al- 
 lurement ! but I give you fair warning — if
 
 THE MtfNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 33 
 
 the girl proves what she seems, I'll posi- 
 tively put her on her guard against you 
 and that cajoling devil Rugemont." 
 
 " You will ! Then hang me if I don't 
 retaliate, by straining every nerve to out- 
 wit and outmanoeuvre you in any thing of 
 the kind !" 
 
 " Very well, I give you leave — that is," 
 laughing, " if you can." 
 
 * Oh, you are sly, I know — But no mat- 
 ter — nous verronsr 
 
 In the mean while, Fidelia was hurry- 
 ing back, determined never to expose her- 
 self to any thing of the kind again, if in 
 her power to avoid it, by entering ma- 
 dame's house. That what had passed was 
 merely accidental she could scarcely bring 
 herself to think, and she trembled to think 
 of being in the power of a woman capable 
 of the black design she was now suspect- 
 ing madame of. But then she had her 
 ring to relieve her ; yet with invincible re- 
 luctance she thought of parting with it, 
 not from the consideration of its beauty, 
 c 3
 
 34 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 but as a memento of her having once been 
 loved and valued by some one. 
 
 Matters, as she apprehended, did not 
 exactly end in this way. She now became 
 tormented with billets from madame, im- 
 portuning to see her again, and could 
 never stir out that she was not beset by 
 lord Killeny, whose declarations soon be- 
 came very explicit : in short, no art was 
 untried, either by him or his unprincipled 
 assistant, to effect her destruction, en- 
 couraged to persevere by the knowledge 
 of her dependent situation. Gladly would 
 she have solicited the interference of those 
 she resided with, but from a dread of being 
 considered to blame herself in the affair, 
 and thus exposed to additional unhappi- 
 ness. 
 
 At length she received a most angry 
 letter from madame, saying that as she 
 had every reason to believe, from her ab- 
 senting herself entirely from her house, 
 that it was her intention to forget the debt 
 she had contracted with her, she begged
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 35 
 
 leave to remind her of it, with an assurance 
 that if she did not immediately call to set- 
 tle it, she would no longer hesitate ac- 
 quainting Mrs. Bryerly with the affair. 
 
 There was, then, no longer any alternative : 
 her nurse's parting gift must be resigned, 
 and thus perhaps the only thing that might 
 yet have led to the discovery of those she 
 belonged to, for that it was on that account 
 she had received such a charge relative to it, 
 she had not a doubt. Of its intrinsic worth 
 she knew nothing, withheld as she had 
 been by various considerations from shew- 
 ing it where that could have been ascer- 
 tained : from its beauty, however, she cer- 
 tainly would have been led herself to esti- 
 mate it rather highly, but for the impro- 
 bability of any thing of great consequence 
 coming into the hands of Caty. She could 
 not avoid, however, thinking that it cer- 
 tainly must be of sufficient value to free 
 her from her obligation to madame ; and 
 availing herself of the first opportunity for 
 going to her, was introduced into the par*
 
 36 the munster cottage boy. 
 
 lour, where, swelling with either affected 
 or real anger, she received her. 
 
 A torrent of bitter reproaches for some 
 time prevented her speaking; at length 
 madame becoming exhausted by her own 
 volubility, enabled her to state the pur- 
 pose for which she had come, and producing 
 the ring, she presented it to her, with a 
 hope that it would be equivalent to the 
 demand she had on her, adding, she had 
 no other earthly mode of discharging it. 
 
 Madame eagerly snatched it : for a mi- 
 nute or two something prevented her 
 speaking; then, with well counterfeited 
 indifference laying it down, but so as to 
 have it within her own immediate grasp, she 
 said, since that was the case, to oblige her 
 she would take the bauble, and when she 
 returned to London for the winter, shew 
 it to her own jeweller, who was a most 
 conscientious person, and let her know the 
 value he set on it, which, however, she 
 could not help thinking, would be very 
 trifling — inadequate, indeed, she was per-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 37 
 
 suaded, to the full discharge of her debt, 
 but a few shillings she should not be parti- 
 cular about. — " But, monDieu!" she added, 
 " what a little fool you are to distress your- 
 self in this manner, when wealth and in- 
 dependence are at your command !" 
 
 She then proceeded to plead, in the 
 warmest, the most energetic style, for lord 
 Killeny, who only waited, she assured her, 
 permission to throw himself and fortune 
 at her feet ; and would any one in their 
 senses, situated as she was, reject the offer 
 he made her ? 
 
 Fidelia listened to her with calm, or ra- 
 ther stern composure. When she had con- 
 cluded, she would have rebuked her, but 
 that she had reason to believe a rebuke 
 would have been very little attended to ; 
 she therefore contented herself with merely 
 saying, that perhaps the time would yet 
 come in which she might be rejoiced she 
 had not hearkened to her arguments, as, 
 in different situations, people often view- 
 ed things in different lights. Then add-
 
 38 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ing, that she now hoped all further cor- 
 respondence would be at an end between 
 them, she was departing, when involun- 
 tarily casting her eyes again upon the ring, 
 she burst into tears. Had she then parted 
 with all that she had possessed to remind 
 her of ever having had a friend — the trea- 
 sure that she had so carefully guarded since 
 it had come into her possession by night 
 and by day? — " Oh, once more let me 
 look at it !" she cried, seeing madame draw 
 it towards her with a look of fear. 
 
 " My God !" cried the crafty French- 
 woman, " sans doute. You are not going 
 to want to have it back again ?" 
 
 " Oh no !" replied Fidelia, bending over 
 it with fast-falling tears ; " but you know 
 not how I value it — 'twas the only memo- 
 rial I had of happier days." 
 
 The parlour-door opened ; she started in 
 alarm, but was relieved in some degree by 
 seeing only the stranger (as colonel Gran- 
 dison was still to her, his name being un- 
 known) and not lord Killeny, as she had
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 39 
 
 apprehended. He had been up stairs to 
 seek him, but not rinding either him or 
 his servant there, had come to inquire of 
 madam e concerning him, as he wanted to 
 speak to him on regimental business. 
 
 Madame assured him, on her honour, 
 she could not tell where he was, forgetting, 
 perhaps from the sudden flutter with which 
 she appeared to be seized at the moment, 
 that his lordship was then actually in an 
 inner room, where she had herself placed 
 him, for the purpose of letting him hear all 
 that passed between her and Fidelia, con- 
 ceiving that perhaps else he might doubt 
 her advocating his cause in the manner he 
 had a right to expect from the liberality of 
 his presents to her. 
 
 Confused by being surprised by a stran- 
 ger in such agony, Fidelia hastily applied 
 her handkerchief to her streaming eyes, 
 and precipitately departed. 
 
 " What, in the name of Heaven," ex- 
 claimed he, turning to madame, as soon 
 as she was gone, for till then he had ap-
 
 40 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 peared transfixed to the spot, " have you 
 been doing to that poor girl ?" 
 
 " Doing !" madame repeated. " Pauvre 
 little diable ! Nothing : she was crying be- 
 cause she was asked for a debt she had not 
 the power of paying, and which I was at 
 last forced to accept a trumpery bauble 
 for." 
 
 " What, that ring?" he cried, glancing 
 at the ring, which by this time madame 
 had put on, and was viewing with no small 
 degree of delight ; then looking more at- 
 tentively at it, he started, and hastily de- 
 sired to be allowed to examine it. 
 
 " Oh, it isn't worth looking at," madame 
 replied, in manifest confusion, and trying 
 to conceal it. 
 
 " Pardon me," he exclaimed ; and tak- 
 ing her hand, without ceremony he drew it 
 off. Scarcely had he done so, ere, chang- 
 ing colour, an exclamation of surprise burst 
 from him. 
 
 " Oh, diable! you know something 
 about it then?" cried madame, greatly
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 41 
 
 alarmed ; " and she has taken me in about 
 it?" 
 
 " Taken you in !" was repeated with 
 contemptuous emphasis ; he then demand- 
 ed whether she had mentioned to her how 
 she came by it ? 
 
 Madame would have had no scruple in 
 vilifying her, but that, in the present in- 
 stance, an adherence to truth would, she 
 conceived, serve herself; she accordingly 
 proceeded, in the most solemn manner, to 
 assure him that Fidelia had declared it was 
 her own, repeating all she had said of its 
 being the parting gift of a friend, as a cor- 
 roboration of what she herself averred; 
 trusting that, by establishing her right to 
 dispose of it, her own to its quiet posses- 
 sion would not be disputed. 
 
 " Good God !" exclaimed the person to 
 whom she addressed herself, after atten- 
 tively listening to her ; " how unexpected! 
 how surprising ! At length, then, a clue is 
 found by which an opportunity may be 
 obtained of discharging the obligations of
 
 42 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 gratitude. She is — she must be " Then 
 
 recollecting himself, with a very different 
 aspect to his usual one, he turned to ma- 
 dame, and informed her they must have 
 a little private conversation, carefully ex- 
 amining the respective doors as he spoke, 
 to see they were closed. 
 
 What this conversation was, as we were 
 not stationed, like lord Killeny, where we 
 could exactly hear it, we shall not pretend 
 to relate. Suffice it, in the course of that 
 evening, Fidelia, to her extreme surprise, 
 received a billet from madame, informing 
 her that, by chance, just after she left her 
 that day, the parcel she supposed she had 
 lost was found in the shop, and that, con- 
 sequently, as this settled the little pecu- 
 niary transaction between them, she beg- 
 ged leave to restore her ring to her. 
 
 With a joy resembling that which the 
 sight of an old friend occasions, Fidelia 
 welcomed the restoration of this valued 
 treasure. She bedewed it with tears of 
 ecstacy ; and after gazing at it over and
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 43 
 
 over again, as if doubtful of its being again 
 in her possession, once more deposited it 
 within her bosom, with a resolution never 
 to part with it again. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Remembrance wakes, with all her busy train, 
 Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain." 
 
 A day or two after this, as she was re- 
 turning from a lady's where she had been 
 with a message from Mrs. Bryerly, she 
 was accosted by the stranger to whose in- 
 terference she was unconsciously so much 
 indebted, but whom, from being in coloured 
 clothes, she did not immediately recollect 
 — a circumstance that added to the confu- 
 sion she was thrown into at the moment. 
 
 Having apologized for addressing her, 
 he proceeded to state, that he trusted his 
 motive for the liberty would prove a suffi-
 
 44 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 cient excuse for it. He then, after a slight 
 hesitation, went on to say, that, inspired 
 by the interest which youth and inno- 
 cence never fail to excite, he begged leave 
 to caution her against madame Rugemont, 
 who was by no means a proper person for 
 her to have any particular communication 
 with, and to earnestly advise her, if lord 
 Killeny persevered in any further atten- 
 tions to her, not to permit them, without 
 the privity and concurrence of her friends. 
 
 Surprise and emotion at so lively an in- 
 terest about her in a total stranger, pre- 
 vented Fidelia from having the power of 
 immediately replying. When she had re- 
 gained it, she gratefully thanked him for 
 his kindness, assuring him it confirmed 
 her previous resolution relative to the per- 
 sons he alluded to. 
 
 " You are not offended, then," he said, 
 earnestly regarding her, " at the liberty I 
 have taken ?" 
 
 " Offended !" emphatically repeated Fi- 
 delia — " Oh no ! who could be offended at
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 45 
 
 receiving a proof of kindness, the great- 
 est, perhaps, that can be shewn — that of 
 putting me on my guard against dan- 
 gerous characters, especially a person si- 
 tuated " 
 
 She stopped, embarrassed at the idea of 
 having been so nearly betrayed into a con- 
 fidential communication with a total stran- 
 ger ; but the tears that filled her eyes al- 
 most explained what she had been about 
 saying. 
 
 Finding she would not go on — " How 
 much does the sweetness and condescen- 
 sion with which you have listened to me," 
 said he, after the pause of a minute, " en- 
 hance the pleasure I feel in thinking I 
 may perhaps have served you !" Then per- 
 ceiving that he rather prevented her pro- 
 ceeding, he respectfully took her hand, 
 and gently touching it with his lips, took 
 leave of her, not without a fervent hope 
 that he should have the happiness of see- 
 ing her again. 
 For some hours after, Fidelia could think
 
 46 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 of nothing else. How surprising, how 
 flattering, so warm an interest for her in 
 the bosom of a total stranger ! How 
 soothing, how consolatory should be the 
 proof it afforded, that, isolated as she was, 
 there were some kind and noble characters 
 in the world, who would not let that cir- 
 cumstance prevent their thinking her of 
 some little consequence in society ! While 
 she felt grateful for the caution she had re- 
 ceived, she also felt delighted to think it 
 was not needful — delighted too at the 
 idea of having impressed this conviction 
 on the mind of the stranger, since she 
 could not doubt its being calculated to 
 raise her in his estimation. 
 
 But the pleasure she derived from the 
 idea of the interest she had inspired him 
 with was of short duration. The very 
 next day she found an anonymous letter 
 in her chamber, in which she was entreat- 
 ed, as she valued her future peace and 
 welfare, to be on her guard against him, 
 he being, she was most solemnly assured,
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 47 
 
 one of the most insidious, deceptive, and 
 unprincipled of mankind — one of those 
 dangerous characters, who, from plausible 
 manners, and the semblance of every vir- 
 tue, was enabled to steal imperceptibly 
 upon the confidence, and thus easily effect 
 the destruction of any destined victim. 
 Hidden rocks, she was reminded, were 
 ever considered the most dangerous, so the 
 concealed libertine was more to be dreaded 
 than the bold and open profligate. The 
 caution relative to lord Killeny, the writer 
 proceeded to observe, might not be amiss, 
 but the motive for it deserved indignation 
 and abhorrence, being no other than to 
 impose such a belief of generosity and in- 
 tegrity upon her, as should obtain her 
 confidence, where every advantage was 
 intended to be taken of the circumstance. 
 How he came to obtain the knowledge 
 his letter must intimate his having, was a 
 circumstance, he said, that must remain a 
 secret : suffice it for her to know, that he 
 was an unconnected character, who, from
 
 48 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 having no immediate concerns of his own 
 to attend to, found pleasure in making 
 observations, and obtaining information of 
 what was passing around him, more espe- 
 cially as doing so, now and then, as in the 
 present case, put it in his power to serve 
 the unwary and unprotected. Should his 
 present caution be attended to, it would 
 afford him heartfelt delight, as there was 
 nothing he more abhorred than the idea 
 of innocence becoming the prey of pre- 
 meditated villany. 
 
 Unutterable was the astonishment of 
 Fidelia at the perusal of this, both from 
 the mysterious knowledge it intimated of 
 what had recently occurred, and the cau- 
 tion it conveyed against a person whose 
 previous notice of another's designs had 
 impressed her with such sentiments of 
 gratitude and admiration. She knew not 
 what to think. She would have felt in- 
 clined to imagine it a production of lord 
 Killeny's, but for the manner in which 
 his lordship himself was alluded to in it —
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 49 
 
 too little versed in artful manoeuvres to 
 see tins in that light, that so suspicion 
 might be diverted from himself, and rea- 
 dier credence given to the assertions a- 
 gainst her new friend. 
 
 That he merited these she could not bring 
 herself implicitly to believe. Traits of the 
 mind must surely, she thought, be im- 
 pressed, in some degree, upon the counte- 
 nance, and his was indicative of nothing 
 but truth, generosity, and feeling. Yet, 
 lest she should err — lest this fair seeming 
 might be but a covering to a dissimulative 
 nature, she determined, after many strug- 
 gles, to act with the caution which was 
 recommended, and thus at least avoid in- 
 ternal blame. But deeply was she hurt 
 at being compelled to relinquish the high 
 opinion she had formed of him: it was 
 flattering to her pride to think of having 
 interested such a character as she had at 
 first conceived him to be. It grieved her 
 to think of there being such baseness, such 
 deception in the world. How should she 
 
 vol. I. D
 
 50 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY". 
 
 again know where to confide, if here there 
 was hollowness of heart? How did she 
 wish she had a friend to commune with 
 on the subject ! But she possessed none — 
 there w r as no beacon for her to look up 
 to for avoidance from danger — she was 
 left solely to her own innate sense of what 
 was right, and all she could do was hum- 
 bly to implore divine protection in the 
 path — alas ! she feared perilous path — she 
 had to tread in life. 
 
 . Having fully decided on avoiding him 
 if they chanced to meet again, she fer- 
 vently hoped they might not, so painful 
 to her thoughts was the idea of acting in 
 s u ch a man n er toward s hi m : b u t h er h opes 
 were fruitless — she encountered him a few 
 days after, approaching her on horseback, 
 She would instantly have retreated, if she 
 could; but not having the power, she di- 
 rectly turned aside her head, and kept ob- 
 stinately looking in a contrary direction 
 till he had passed. But her heart smote 
 her at the moment. There was such an
 
 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 51 
 
 expression of glowing pleasure and delight 
 in the look with which he was approach- 
 ing her, that she could not help thinking 
 herself guilty of ingratitude for acting in 
 this manner. What must — what would 
 lie he likely to think of it? If conscious 
 of meriting her good opinion, would he 
 not be led to infer from it, that, after all, 
 she was offended with his caution relative 
 to lord Killeny ?— -an inference that could 
 not fail of making him despise her. 
 
 Tears of vexation burst from her ; and 
 if she had offended him, she felt con vinced» 
 if he could have looked into her heart at 
 the moment, he would have thought him- 
 self revenged. She returned home, dis- 
 contented with herself and all about her , 
 but at length her good sense got the bet- 
 ter of her emotion, and the reflection that, 
 situated as she was, her own protector in 
 a great degree, she could not be too cau- 
 tious in every instance, reconciled her, in 
 a degree, to herself. 
 
 But neither on this, nor any other re- 

 
 52 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY*. 
 
 cent occurrence, had she leisure long to 
 reflect. The Bryerlys quitted Hastings 
 abruptly, owing to some tidings received 
 from town, where they had not long been 
 again, ere they announced their intention 
 of going over to Ireland ; and in ecstacy 
 at this unexpected determination, every 
 thing else was forgotten. 
 
 With that dear country every thing of 
 happiness or pleasure was still associated ; 
 to it her thoughts still reverted — to it her 
 untravelled heart still fondly turned — to it 
 she had determined yet, some way or other, 
 to make her way. Oh ! to breathe again 
 the fresh air of its bright green fields, 
 would be renovating to her soul. In re- 
 turning to it, she felt as if she was return- 
 ing to a home. She could recollect no- 
 thing but kindness and good-nature in it 
 — the laugh of good-humour, and the ca- 
 ress of good-nature. She would not— she 
 could not be there, without retracing her 
 way to Caiy's, and discovering the Beau- 
 monts — without exerting every faculty to
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 53 
 
 unite herself again with the spot of her 
 nativity. 
 
 She was indefatigable in assisting in 
 making preparations for their departure. 
 No task now seemed laborious, and her 
 wild delight had at length the effect of di- 
 verting the Bryerlys. A thousand old 
 tales and traditions revived in her recol- 
 lection ; she was a fund of amusement to 
 the Miss Bryerlys, from the relations she 
 now gave them, and to which an added 
 interest was imparted, by her declaring 
 she could point out the very identical 
 places where such and such things she 
 mentioned to them had happened : the 
 old castle where the haughty chieftain 
 lived, whose pride made him set fire to it, 
 on receiving a visit from a neighbouring 
 one, to conceal his not having proper ac- 
 commodations in it for him; the fairy- 
 haunted mountain, and the blessed well 
 of St. Luke, in which ablutions for sin 
 were still performed. 
 
 At length they departed. On the pas-
 
 54 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 sage, Fidelia took an opportunity of in- 
 quiring of a gentleman who attached him- 
 self to their party, and seemed to have a 
 general knowledge of the kingdom, con- 
 cerning the place where she had been 
 brought up. Mistaking that she men- 
 tioned, his reply led to a belief of its being 
 a considerable distance from the place whi- 
 ther Mr. Bryerly was going. Fidelia was 
 therefore forced to content herself with 
 the idea of at present addressing a letter 
 there. This she accordingly did soon after 
 landing; but no answer being returned, 
 she was compelled to conclude that those 
 to whom it was addressed were either no 
 more, or had changed their abode — a mat- 
 ter which Mr. Bryerly determined on as- 
 certaining, by taking a journey there as 
 soon as the family got themselves settled 
 after their arrival, conceiving it now full 
 time to learn whether there was any one but 
 liimself on whom Fidelia had dependence, 
 or rather, more correctly speaking, whe- 
 ther there was anv chance of his deriving
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 55 
 
 advantage from the protection which he 
 had afforded her, and the hope of which 
 was the chief, or perhaps only motive, that 
 had actuated him to do so, for early pri- 
 vations had imperceptibly rendered him 
 selfish and speculative. 
 
 Great were the expectations of pleasure 
 which Mrs. Bryerly and her daughters en- 
 tertained from their visit to Ireland, but 
 which, as extravagant expectations almost 
 ever are, were fated to be disappointed. 
 Years had occasioned changes, which, in 
 place of old intimates, gave to them the 
 faces of strangers, who neither knew nor 
 cared any thing about them. Not with- 
 out an unpleasant sensation could Mrs. 
 
 Bryerly walk about D , where they 
 
 landed, and which, from being her and 
 Mr. Bryerly's native place, they preferred 
 to any other part of the kingdom, and 
 find themselves stared at as total stran- 
 gers. Still, however, there were many re- 
 maining well known to her — many even 
 nearly connected, and amongst these not
 
 56 THE FUNSTER COTTAGE EOT. 
 
 a few who owed her real obligations for 
 kindnesses from her in occasional visits to 
 London, where her house was at all times 
 open to them, and her best services at 
 their command ; and in full confidence of 
 receiving every possible attention from 
 these, her arrival was notified to some by 
 notes, and to others by friendly calls; but 
 how great was her indignation at finding 
 these almost entirely unnoticed, and that 
 where the reverse was the case, it was evi- 
 dently from motives of curiosity, or a wish 
 to excite rankling reflections, by detailing 
 tiie revolutions that revolving years had 
 
 occasioned in D . 
 
 The fact was, an intimation of an un- 
 pleasant change in the affairs of Mr. Bry- 
 erly had preceded them, and the good 
 
 people of D , like the good people of 
 
 many other places, thought it as well to 
 forget obligations, which there was but 
 little chance of ever being repeated. Her 
 mortification at this baseness and ingrati- 
 tude was unutterable, aggravated as it was
 
 THE UUMWUL COTTAGE BOY. 57 
 
 by the disappointment it inflicted on her 
 daughters, who soon began to complain of 
 the neglect they experienced. 
 
 At length, unable to endure their re- 
 proaches for bringing them to so stupid a 
 place, yet equally so to return to London 
 till their father had got over some unex- 
 pected disappointments he had met with 
 in his business, she decided on repairing 
 to Strandstown, a village on the coast, 
 
 about seven miles from D , much 
 
 frequented during the sutnmer on account 
 of the excellence of its bathing, and the 
 fineness of its strand, affording, from its 
 extent and smoothness, a delightful place 
 for exercise. During the season, it exhi- 
 bited a good deal of gaiety and bustle, but 
 till then had a melancholy aspect, its ranges 
 of closed-up houses giving it the air of a 
 depopulated place. To those, however, 
 who did not entirely depend on varied so- 
 ciety for amusement, it was never entirely 
 devoid of interest, its cliffs and caves be- 
 d3
 
 58 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ing extremely romantic and beautiful, 
 while the extent of its magnificent bay, 
 with the hoarse murmur of its waves, 
 breaking like peals of artillery upon the 
 shore, rilled the mind with admiration and 
 awe. 
 
 Inanimate objects, however, were not 
 those which most delighted the Miss Bry- 
 erlys or their mamma ; accordingly, they 
 did not disdain the overtures that were 
 made for an intimacy with them, by the 
 few families tWft made it their place of 
 abode, consisting of the rector's, an apo- 
 thecary's (whose little practice compelled 
 him to bear woeful testimony to the salu- 
 brity of the place), a coast-surveyor's, and a 
 widow lad}', who owned several of the lodg- 
 ing-houses - to which list was to be added, 
 the mistress of the chief hotel, who, after 
 passing half of the year in all the bustle of 
 business, retired for the remainder to en- 
 joy herself like the bees, on the spoils of 
 the summer. These, with an exception 
 or two, were not exactly the kind of per-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 59 
 
 sons Mrs. Bryerly would have selected for 
 associates ; but there was no choice, and 
 the snug parties they contrived to form 
 amongst each other soon reconciled her to 
 the circumstance. 
 
 Looking to other scenes than the Miss 
 Bryerlys for amusement, Fidelia would 
 soon have delighted in her change of abode, 
 but for the little alteration it occasioned in 
 her mode of treatment. She soon found 
 herself as much excluded here as hereto- 
 fore from the enjoyments afforded by so- 
 ciety, while the disappointment experi- 
 enced by the family in their high-raised 
 expectations made them often treat her 
 with additional ill-humour. Still, how- 
 ever, a hope of yet receiving satisfactory 
 tidings of those to whom she had long 
 looked forward for liberation from her pre- 
 sent unpleasant situation .supported her 
 under it. 
 
 But she soon found the information she 
 sighed for, she must not yet expect. Con- 
 trary to his assurance of hastening, to seek
 
 60 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 it as soon as he had settled himself at Strands- 
 town, Mr. Bryerly suddenly conceived his 
 house wanted ornament and improvement, 
 and in planning what he deemed necessary 
 for the purpose, quickly relinquished every 
 other idea for the present. Disappointed 
 as she was, still, when she could at times 
 breathe the fresh invigorating air of the 
 cliffs, wander amidst their romantic caves, 
 and trace, in " daisies pied and violets 
 blue," the gradual approach of the spring, 
 she felt cheered and delighted. 
 
 She was enjoying a little exercise one 
 day, when she met a miserable-looking 
 man dragging an equally miserable-look- 
 ing dog to the edge of a cliff, to drown. 
 She instantly interfered, demanding the 
 cause of such inhumanity? 
 
 "Och, musha ! nothing in the world,Miss, 
 honey, but that myself can't keep him," re- 
 plied the man. ? Things, do you see, Miss, 
 have got cross somehow with us lately ; 
 and .so, not being able to give a bit, as we 
 used to do, to poor Bamee, he's taken a
 
 THE MUNSTEU COTTAGE BOY. 6l 
 
 little to thieving ; and no shame to him, 
 the creature ; the devil an honester doi>* 
 than himself in all Strandstown, if you be- 
 lieve me, Miss, while he had wherewithal; 
 but hunger, as you know they say, Miss, 
 will break through stone walls," and a 
 ghastly smile too plainly indicated his hav- 
 ing had but too much experience of its 
 urgency ; " and so, Miss, this getting me 
 ill-will from the neighbours. I am forced 
 to make away with him. Myself is almost 
 kilt with grief to do so, and Biddy and 
 the childer are breaking their hearts, cry- 
 ing; but sorrow bit of me can help it — ' 
 devil a thing we have for ourselves but 
 praties, and little enough of them too." 
 
 The compassion of Fidelia being strong- 
 ly excited, she directly gave him a few 
 halfpence, all she had the power of be- 
 stowing, and pleaded so strongly for a 
 suspension, at least, of poor Earnee's fate, 
 who kept all the time looking alternately 
 at her and his master, in the most piteous 
 manner, as if aware there was some parley
 
 62 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 going on concerning him, with an assur- 
 ance of having him at least fed, that she 
 obtained a respite for him. Then inquir- 
 ing into farther particulars, she learnt that 
 poor Darby, the name of her new acquaint- 
 ance, was a labourer ; that* owing to his 
 having married, contrary to the wishes of 
 her friends, the daughter of a decent far- 
 mer, he had ever since been a persecuted 
 man, till at length a growing family im- 
 poverishing him, he was reduced almost 
 to tire last extremity of wretchedness ; to 
 aggravate which, his wife was on the point 
 of lying-in, and they were threatened to 
 be turned out of a miserable hovel, which 
 she had helped him to build against one 
 of the cliffs, because they had not two 
 guineas to pay for it — the rent demanded 
 for it by the neger who laid claim to the 
 spot, but who had never given them any 
 intimation of disturbing them in the pos- 
 session of it, till they had raised it. 
 
 Faintly holding out a hope that things 
 might get better, Fidelia bade him remain
 
 THE MUXSTER COTTAGE BOY. , 63 
 
 for a few minutes where he was, and speed- 
 ing back, mentioned sufficient of his mi- 
 sery to the servants to get one of them to 
 return with her with a basket of broken 
 provisions, which had been laid by for 
 chance mendicants, and a promise that 
 whenever there was anv thing: to distri- 
 bute he should be remembered. 
 
 Fidelia, however, was but too well aware, 
 from the tale he had told, that this would 
 be a relief totally inadequate to that he 
 required. The idea of iris being deprived 
 of shelter harassed and tormented her. 
 More than once she meditated speaking to 
 the Bryerlys on the subject, but still 
 shrank from the idea, not because she be- 
 lieved them utterly incapable of feeling, 
 but because she feared, from the slighting 
 manner in which they chose to treat her, 
 the representation of misery from her might 
 not be attended to, and that, inster.d of 
 serving him by the disclosure, it might be 
 the means of depriving him of the little 
 aid she had procured him. Then she
 
 64 THE MTJXSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 thought of addressing a letter in his be- 
 half to his hard-hearted landlord ; but still, 
 whenever she meditated seriously on the 
 subject, she felt she wanted courage for 
 the attempt. 
 
 Having contrived to make a few things 
 for the poor woman, she proceeded to her 
 hovel one morning, and found, on enter- 
 ing it, that poor Darby had not by any 
 means exaggerated the account he gave of 
 his misery. She found the poor woman 
 herself sick and helpless, shivering over 
 the embers of a few turfs that had just 
 sufficed to boil a small pot of potatoes, 
 round which the squalid children, with 
 their father, and poor Barnee in the midst 
 of them, were sitting, with a cup of salt 
 water to supply the place of salt with 
 them. 
 
 Fidelia was shocked beyond description 
 at the sight of such wretchedness, so ex- 
 ceeding all she had conceived she should 
 have seen; and to heighten what she felt, 
 Darby informed her he had received an-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 65 
 
 other notification from his landlord, in- 
 forming him if he did not pay what he 
 demanded by the commencement of the 
 ensuing week, he certainly would turn 
 him out of his cabin. 
 
 Unable to afford relief, Fidelia could 
 only sympathize. What a lesson was 
 here for fastidiousness and discontent, she 
 conceived ! Surely, if such scenes were 
 oftener viewed, there could not be the 
 murmurs she had often heard at trifling 
 disappointments. It was but the preced- 
 ing day Mr. Bryerly had started from the 
 dinner-table in a rage that absolutely made 
 her tremble, merely because he was disap- 
 pointed of a particular kind of sauce he 
 expected with a dish offish; and yet here 
 was a whole family, that of the coarsest 
 plainest food had not sufficient for the 
 support of nature ! 
 
 Again she meditated an application in 
 their behalf to their landlord, conceiving 
 in the cause of humanity one should have 
 both courage and perseverance ; and in
 
 60 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 consequence of this meditation, on inquir- 
 ing more particularly concerning him than 
 she had before done, she now learnt that 
 lie was an Englishman, of the name of 
 Peck ham, and steward to a lady, who re- 
 siding chiefly in the other kingdom, occa- 
 sioned almost every thing to be at his 
 mercy here. He lived in the deserted 
 mansion, Darby further stated, and by one 
 means or other, not of the very fairest, it 
 was supposed, had contrived to realize a 
 very handsome fortune— a circumstance 
 that added to his natural insolence, by ren- 
 dering him independent of his employer. 
 
 Fidelia sighed almost despairingly at 
 this account, so fearful was she of not be- 
 ing able to succeed with upstart haughti- 
 ness. While she was considering what 
 she should do, whether she should apply 
 to Mr. Bryeriy for his interference, or speak 
 herself for the poor family, Darby, sud- 
 denly drawing her to the door, pointed to 
 Peckham, at a little distance in the road. 
 
 Fidelia heard no more ; determined not
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 6? 
 
 to lose such an opportunity for trying to 
 effect what she wished, she darted out, 
 and speedily overtaking Peckhtai, begged 
 to know, as soon as she had a little reco- 
 vered from the flurry into which her haste 
 had thrown her, whether he could direct 
 her to such-a-place, mentioning one on 
 purpose in the direction in which he was 
 going ? 
 
 He replied in the affirmative, civilly 
 adding, as he was himself going that way, 
 he would shew it to her, if she allowed 
 him. 
 
 Fidelia bowed assentingly, and as they 
 walked on, not without her internally 
 smiling from the consciousness of the little 
 stratagem she was using, she proceeded to 
 ask him the names of such and such places 
 they were passing, till at length coming 
 within sight of Cliff Manor, the seat of 
 the Winterfields, she also desired to know 
 the name of that, and on learning it, in- 
 stantly expressed her wish to be admitted 
 to it — not, she quickly added, for the sake
 
 68 THE MUNSTElt COTTAGE BOW 
 
 of viewing its improvements, though such, 
 she was informed, as were well worth see- 
 ing, but in order to obtain an opportunity 
 of speaking to the gentleman (as from po- 
 licy she thought it requisite to designate 
 him) who was then residing there. 
 
 In surprise at this declaration, Peckham 
 made a sudden stop, and turning his light 
 grey eyes, at once as dull and as cunning 
 as an owl's, upon her, seemed, by the ex- 
 pression of his hypocritical countenance, 
 undecided what interpretation to put up- 
 on it. 
 
 Fidelia did not permit him to be long 
 at a loss ; she briefly informed him of her 
 motive for what she wished, adding, that 
 she w T as persuaded Mr. Peckham knew 
 not the wretchedness of the poor family 
 she spoke of, or he never would threaten 
 what he did; and that it was on that ac- 
 count to assure him of it, she wished to 
 have an opportunity of addressing him for 
 a few minutes. 
 
 With a dark and scornful frown, chill-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 6$ 
 
 ing to eveiy flattering hope, though a 
 fairer or more energetic suppliant had never 
 yet perhaps pleaded the cause of misery, 
 he was about replying, when one of Dar- 
 by's little boys came running after her 
 with her ring, which, in noticing one of 
 the younger children, it had contrived to 
 dnu ,r from her, by untying the black rib- 
 bon to which it was fastened, keeping it 
 constantly in her bosom, suspended from 
 her neck. 
 
 As Fidelia was taking it, the eye of her 
 companion was caught by it. He started, 
 looked earnestly, wistfully at it, and then 
 suddenly seizing her hand, as she was about 
 depositing it in her bosom, examined it 
 attentively. 
 
 Fidelia was surprised, but for a moment 
 he was too much occupied to heed her ; 
 then observing her looks, he seemed to re- 
 collect him self i and relinquishing it with 
 an air of embarrassment, apologized for the 
 liberty he had taken. Then, with a coun- 
 tenance so altered as to astonish her, he
 
 TO THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 proceeded to inform her that his name was 
 Peckham, and that she did him but jus- 
 tice in supposing he knew nothing of the 
 distress of the poor family she had been 
 pleading for, or he never would have held 
 out the threat he did ; adding, as a proof 
 of his sincerity, he would not only allow 
 them to remain some time longer in their 
 cabin without molestation, but go there 
 himself, to see what he could do for them. 
 
 Whatever was the cause of this sudden 
 change in his intentions, for certainly they 
 were not at first what he now avowed, 
 Fidelia still thanked him as fervently as if 
 unaware of any thing of that kind, and 
 was then taking leave, when, with an air 
 of familiarity that made her involuntarily 
 shrink back, and which rendered his dis- 
 agreeable features still more unpleasant, he 
 stopped her to inquire her name and resi- 
 dence, saying, they must be better ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 Fidelia immediately acquainted him 
 with the latter, trusting the name of Mr.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 71 
 
 Brverly, who, she was persuaded, must be 
 generally known as a respectable inhabi- 
 tant of the place, would check any further 
 attempt at freedom. 
 
 He nodded at her reply, saying he had 
 heard of Mr. Bryerly before, and would 
 certainly call on him the next day, as he 
 should before, had he known what an at- 
 traction his house contained. 
 
 Fidelia was not of an age altogether to 
 dislike compliments ; she certainly, how- 
 ever, could have dispensed with any from 
 such a being as Peckham. The prejudice 
 she had previously conceived against him 
 was not by any means removed by his 
 compliance with what she wished. He 
 was long, lean, elderly, demurely hypo- 
 critical, and spoke in a manner that con- 
 vinced her he had been born within the 
 sound of Bow bells. 
 
 That the Bryerlys would by any means 
 like such a visitor, she could not imagine, 
 and of course apprehended something un- 
 pleasant to herself from being the means
 
 72 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 of bringing such a person to their house. 
 On one account, therefore, she was agree- 
 ably surprised at finding Mr. Bryerly far 
 from displeased at the circumstance. He 
 had long wished for access to Cliff Ma- 
 nor, from the gratifications it was capable 
 of affording him, and, of course, could not 
 but be pleased at knowing a person who 
 had the power of granting him this. In 
 short, in this instance, selfishness got the 
 better of pride, and Peckham was allowed 
 to consider himself an intimate. He either 
 did, or affected at first to believe, Fidelia 
 one of the family, and when undeceived, 
 was even rudely inquisitive about her ; 
 this, however, was imputed to his evident 
 ignorance of polished manners. 
 
 Whether he knew it was requisite to 
 ensure himself a welcome, cannot be de- 
 cided ; but presents of fish, fruit, game, 
 and flowers, were now continually coming 
 to the Bryerly s ; while, whenever Mr. 
 Bryerly pleased, there was the whole range 
 of the grounds for him, in his visits to
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 73 
 
 which the ladies did not disdain some- 
 times accompanying him, from the snug 
 parties which Mr. Peckham contrived to 
 form for them, and the pleasure they could 
 not but take in ranging over a house and 
 demesne so beautiful as those of Cliff 
 Manor. 
 
 Contrary to their usual custom of ex- 
 cluding her wherever pleasure was ex- 
 pected, Fidelia always made one in their 
 visits to this place ; and about this time 
 also an alteration of the most agreeable 
 nature took place in their conduct to- 
 wards her — harshness and rudeness ceased, 
 and she was gradually taught to consider 
 herself a person whom they again felt at- 
 tached to. In gratitude and delight at 
 this, all former unkindnesses were forgot- 
 ten, and the spirits that had so long been 
 depressed again broke forth. 
 
 No longer restricted from following the 
 bent of her inclination, her walks now be- 
 came more excursive; but nowhere did 
 she find such delightful ones as about 
 
 VOL. i. E
 
 74 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 Cliff Manor. The house was a modern 
 one, of noble dimensions and fine archi- 
 tecture, and the grounds immediately a- 
 round it were laid out in an appropriate 
 style. Forming a fine and striking con- 
 trast to this recent erection, were the mas- 
 sive moss-tinted ruins of a once-magnifi- 
 cent pile, known by the name of Glen- 
 bower; an impetuous mountain stream 
 divided it from Cliff Manor, though con- 
 stituting part of the domain. 
 
 Not immediately, however, was this 
 ancient seat known to Fidelia. The 
 Miss Bryerlys and their mamma were not 
 fond of the fatigue of what is called ex- 
 ploring. One day, however, that they 
 had come early to Cliff Manor, while they 
 were amusing themselves in scanning some 
 volumes in the well-stocked library, and 
 Mr. Bryerly, with his host, was engaged 
 in fishing, she took the opportunity of 
 crossing the stream just alluded to, as she 
 had before been often tempted to do ; and 
 hurrying on, afraid of being called back,
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 75 
 
 soon found herself in a deep hollow, which 
 she would have found it nearly imprac- 
 ticable, perhaps, to have gained, but for 
 the zigzag direction which the descending 
 path took amongst the branching roots of 
 the old trees that trembled over the soil. 
 
 The bellowing sound of water through 
 the dell did not tend to lessen the effect 
 its romantic aspect was calculated to have 
 upon the imagination. Here the impe- 
 tuous stream was lost to the view in a 
 thick shrubbery — there it burst on it in 
 wild eddies amongst the trees, that, climb- 
 ing to the very summits of the stupen- 
 dous and ivy-clad cliffs at either side, com- 
 pletely obscured the light of day, in 
 many places, from the sequestered spot, 
 shedding over the whole what might be 
 termed " a brown horror," solemnly im- 
 pressive. 
 
 The murmurs of the wood-pigeons with- 
 in these lonely bowers had something in- 
 expressibly soothing in them, contrasted 
 as they were with the hollow-sounding 
 E 2
 
 76 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 cries of the birds that lived amongst the 
 further rocks. 
 
 Delighted, enchanted, Fidelia proceed- 
 ed, till again ascending, she entered upon 
 an avenue of ancient trees, ending in a 
 spacious court, where, stretched in long 
 perspective, stood the time-struck arches 
 of Glenbower Castle. 
 
 Transfixed with admiration, she stood 
 gazing on them : how grand, how impres- 
 sive was their appearance! — what ideas, 
 at once romantic and melancholy, did they 
 elicit ! How did she involuntarily muse 
 and moralize, as she heard the wind sigh- 
 ing gently amidst the long grass that hung 
 streaming from them, and saw the light 
 down of the thistles, that peered up a- 
 mongst it, flying about her. 
 
 Slowly she advanced through them, of- 
 ten tempted, but still afraid to venture 
 through the low doors and dark passages 
 that here and there met her view. At 
 length, emerging from them, she found 
 herself again upon the brow of a steep
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 77 
 
 bank, with a ruined church before her, 
 that certain appendage to an old castle — 
 since, go where you will in Ireland, you 
 will be sure of always rinding one close to 
 the other, owing, perhaps, to the necessity 
 there was in former times for mutual pro- 
 tection. Innumerable records of mortality 
 surrounded it, but all so completely buried 
 in and surrounded by briars and brambles, 
 that Fidelia had not courage to attempt 
 the examination of any of them. 
 
 In retracing her way, she mistook it, 
 and found herself in a kind of hall, leading 
 to a steep narrow staircase. Looking up 
 this, she perceived, by the light that 
 streamed down it, through a narrow dusky 
 casement, a chamber at the top. After 
 hesitating a moment, she ventured up, cu- 
 rious to have a peep at this no doubt Go- 
 thic room, and found herself in a small 
 one, still retaining in it a few pieces of 
 scattered furniture, proofs of former inha- 
 bitation : amongst others was a bedstead.
 
 78 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 On approaching to look at this, Fidelia 
 perceived the curtains it still retained 
 rolled back, and fastened with bows of 
 black ribbon — a proof to her, from what 
 she knew of the customs of the country, 
 that the last that had rested on it was a 
 corpse. Involuntarily she drew back — a 
 shudder came over her, and she began to 
 fancy that the room had a damp earthy 
 smell; yet still she lingered, and as she 
 looked about her, could not help wonder- 
 ing that these proofs of what had affected 
 her had not been removed, since, from the 
 dust and cobwebs that overspread every 
 thing, it was plain that a considerable time 
 had elapsed since it, in any way, had been 
 used. 
 
 While musing on the seeming strange- 
 ness of this, she fancied she heard a deep 
 breathing. A little startled, she hastily 
 descended, and found Darby leaning on a 
 spade, in a melancholy attitude, near the 
 door by which she had entered.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 79 
 
 Each seemed surprised at the sight of 
 the other. Fidelia first recovering from 
 hers, inquired what he was doing there ? 
 
 " Och, musha ! the devil a much, Miss, 
 honey !" he said ; " I have only been root- 
 ing out some of the weeds from the mis] 
 tress's grave forenent you." 
 
 Whom did he mean ? Fidelia demanded. 
 
 " Ah, then, Miss, did you never hear ? 
 Oh, the devil a lie in it, but it's herself, 
 the darling, peace to her sowl !" devoutly 
 crossing himself, " that if one could have 
 seen the rights of it, would have been the 
 owner of this castle. Arrah, then, any 
 how, did you never hear of the family of 
 the Glanmores here, one of our fine ould 
 aunshunt families ? It was themselves were 
 of the right sort — none of the spalpeen do- 
 ings amongst them, as with that neger 
 yonder : signs on it, the devil a farthing 
 did sir Murtogh leave himself; and so he 
 was forced to sell this fine ould place ; and 
 somehow after the first husband of ma-
 
 80 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 dam Winterfield got all. You may see the 
 flag that covers his ould bones, just by the 
 gable end of the church there: sorrow a wet 
 eye there was when he went to treat as 
 he did, the fellow ! the very flower of the 
 flock. Oh, Miss, jewel, it's myself that's 
 almost kilt with grief, when I think of his 
 barbarous usage to him, in sight of his own 
 place." 
 
 " To whom ?" demanded Fidelia. 
 
 " Ah, that's true, Miss, you don't know. 
 Och, if you had once seen him, you'd ne- 
 ver have forgot him ; it's himself any one 
 might see had the blood of the Glanmores 
 in him — and to drive him to desperation !" 
 
 Fidelia now fancied she heard voices ap- 
 proaching, and accordingly, though her 
 curiosity was somewhat excited, made a 
 movement to depart. Suddenly, however, 
 recollecting what she had thought strange 
 in the chamber she had looked into, she 
 stopped to inquire of Darby the cause. 
 
 " Och, Miss," he replied, " no one had
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 81 
 
 the heart to enter that room since the night 
 the poor mistress was waked in it. Be- 
 sides, they say, Miss, 'tis troubled. 
 
 "Troubled!" 
 
 • Yes, Miss — that Nic Mooney, that 
 was shot here, walks in it." 
 
 " Why, there have been terrible doings 
 here ?" said Fidelia. 
 
 " Oh, Miss, you may well say that. 
 Could these walls tell what has happened 
 within them, 'tis yourself wouldn't have a 
 dry eye now, I am sure." 
 
 Here the nearer approach of the voices 
 she had just heard proving them to be 
 those of Mr. Bryerly and Peckham, all 
 further conversation, for the present, be- 
 tween Fidelia and her humble companion 
 was terminated, owing to the little plea- 
 sure she was aware she should have in the 
 remainder of her walk, if joined by them. 
 
 Dwelling, however, on what she had 
 just heard, when the party were all col- 
 lected for dinner, she touched on the sub- 
 e 3
 
 82 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ject, by mentioning her having rambled 
 to the ruins, and the curiosity they had 
 excited to know something of those who 
 had formerly dwelt there. 
 
 The satisfaction she wished for, how- 
 ever, she did not obtain. With a signifi- 
 cant frown, that gave her plainly to un- 
 derstand the subject she had started was 
 an improper one for the place where she 
 then was, Mr. Bryerly uttered the peevish 
 interjection " Pish !" in reply to what she 
 had vsaid, and immediately started a new 
 topic. 
 
 Far, however, from checking the curio- 
 sity he thus reproved, his conduct rather 
 stimulated it, by the confirmation it gave 
 to them of the particulars communicated 
 by Darby; and she accordingly deter- 
 mined on availing herself of the first op- 
 portunity that occurred, for making in- 
 quiries concerning the circumstances that 
 had so awakened it. 
 
 But this determination was unexpected-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 83 
 
 ly suspended, by the occurrence of mat- 
 ters that entirely withdrew her thoughts 
 from all but herself. 
 
 Peckham, who from the first had sin- 
 gled her out in a manner that was ex- 
 tremely unpleasant to her, was on this 
 evening so disgustingly familiar, as to ren- 
 der himself not only odious to her, but to 
 excite in her mind a faint suspicion of his 
 having some particular motive for his con- 
 duct — a suspicion that no sooner started, 
 than she shrunk from him, as she would 
 from plague, pestilence, and famine. His 
 conduct not only disgusted but provoked 
 her, by rendering her a kind of laughing- 
 stock to all present. He had contrived to 
 make a party for the Bryerlys this even- 
 ing, by prevailing on the rector's family, 
 together with the rest of the set Mrs. 
 Bryerly associated with, to favour him 
 with their company — a thing some of them 
 affected to be very unwilling to do, from 
 the inferior light in which they thought 
 proper to consider him.
 
 84 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 The elder part of the company sat down 
 to cards, but music was provided for the 
 amusement of the young people. Peck- 
 ham, who evidently wished to flatter Fide- 
 lia, by making it appear to her that he 
 wished to have her thought the queen of 
 the evening, thought proper to open the 
 dance with her: but having about as 
 much idea of dancing as we may suppose 
 one of Orpheus's dancing cows, his move- 
 ments, excited such risibility, as, united 
 to his ludicrous oglings and tender pres- 
 sures of her hand, made his partner sud- 
 denly leave him, not without a determi- 
 nation to quickly check his presumption, 
 if he should annoy her by any further at- 
 tempts at intimacy.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 85 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " What is this world ? Thy school, oh, Misery ! 
 Our only lesson is to learn to suffer : 
 And he who knows not that, was born for nothing." 
 
 The next day confirmed her vague suspi- 
 cion : Peckham made a formal proposal for 
 her to Mr. Bryerly, which, to her inex- 
 pressible consternation, he fully sanctioned. 
 In vain, when she had a little recovered 
 from the effect its disclosure had upon her, 
 she urged every argument that suggested 
 itself to her against it. Mr. Bryerly was 
 inflexible, and his wife and daughters 
 equally inclined to persecute her. 
 
 The fact was, Mr. Bryerly had long 
 since relinquished all idea of her ever be- 
 ing claimed from him, and now conceived 
 it high time to try and derive some ad-
 
 86 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 vantage from her being with him. This he 
 conceived he should be likely to do, from 
 compelling her to accept the present over- 
 ture, as he naturally concluded her doing 
 so would be a means of ensuring to him a 
 continuance of Peckham's attentions, and 
 by degrees perhaps a sufficient portion of 
 his confidence to allow of his joining him 
 in a contraband trade, which it was strong- 
 ly whispered in the neighbourhood he a- 
 vailed himself of his contiguity to the coast 
 to carry on, and which Bryerly, who de- 
 lighted in any thing of enterprise or spe- 
 culation, was almost wild to engage in; 
 while the ladies made no doubt, that from 
 the circumstance they should have the 
 command of all that Cliff Manor could af- 
 ford for their gratification or amusement. 
 In short, swayed by selfish considerations, 
 they decided on forcing Fidelia to what 
 they could not avoid acknowledging they 
 did not wonder at her having a horror to, 
 so odious and contemptible from character 
 and manner was the hypocritical and vul-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 87 
 
 gar wretch that had now the audacity to 
 think of her. Forced to see him, when 
 he came to learn her answer, she briefly 
 thanked him for the good opinion that had, 
 she concluded, alone induced him to pro- 
 pose for her, but assured him it would be 
 throwing away his time to bestow a far- 
 ther thought on her, as nothing could ever 
 induce her to retract her present positive 
 rejection. — " No time can change me — no 
 circumstance compel me. On your own 
 account, therefore, as well as mine, I beg," 
 she added, " that I may hear no more of 
 a proposition that, to speak with since- 
 rity, I must confess I deem myself de- 
 graded by ever having been forced to lis- 
 ten to." 
 
 Vain, however, was this firmly-avowed 
 determination ; and the new species of per- 
 secution to which she was now subjected 
 was more intolerable than any that had 
 preceded it. 
 
 " You," cried Mrs. Bryerly one morn- 
 ing to her, in a rage, after finding coax-
 
 88 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ings and threatenings alike unavailing to 
 win her to her wishes — " a creature like 
 you, without twopence, to reject such an 
 offer, when, situated as you are, you 
 should down on your knees, if any one, 
 barely able to give you a shelter, proposed 
 for you !" 
 
 " It would be a bad requital to any one 
 who had the generosity to think of me," 
 returned Fidelia, with a forced smile, " to 
 marry them for mere convenience." 
 
 " Pshaw ! don't give me any of your 
 romantic stuff," returned Mrs. Bryerly: 
 " some one else is in your head, or you 
 would jump at the present offer, I make 
 no doubt." 
 
 " Not if I were perishing," replied Fide- 
 lia, warmly ; " 'tis useless, therefore, to tor- 
 ment me further on a subject on which I 
 am inflexibly decided" 
 
 " Decided ! — pretty language indeed ! 
 And pray, Miss, how long do you think 
 things are to go on in this way? — how 
 long do you imagine we are to allow you
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 89 
 
 to continue a burthen to us? — how long 
 continue to support you in idleness?" 
 
 * In idleness !" repeated Fidelia, invo- 
 luntarily, and looking down at the scari- 
 fied fore-finger of her left hand. " Oh, 
 madam !" 
 
 * Well, Miss, I don't suppose you want- 
 ed to be kept with your hands always 
 dangling before you, like a wax-doll in a 
 glass-case, merely to be looked at ?" 
 
 " No — God forbid I had any inclination 
 to sloth or idleness, so unbefitting my si- 
 tuation ! But in reply to your interroga- 
 tions, 'tis my wish, madam, to release you 
 from what you consider a burthen, by be- 
 ing no longer prevented making exertions 
 for myself." 
 
 " Oh, no doubt ! I know you are sick 
 of wholesome restraint ; I have long seen 
 that — long seen that you were enraged at 
 being restricted from exhibiting yourself 
 for admiration : but you shan't be grati- 
 fied — no, you shan't, in seeking for ad- 
 ventures — you shan't get off so easily,
 
 90 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 without making some return for the obli- 
 gations you are under to us." 
 
 " No, that she shan't !" vociferated Mr. 
 Bryerly, furiously throwing down a news- 
 paper he had been reading. " Supposing, 
 ma'am, you were allowed to make exer- 
 tions, as you call them, for yourself, pray 
 how would these enable you to repay me 
 for the expence of bringing you up ? Oh, 
 you may stare ; but I now tell you plainly, 
 that had I thought you would have bur- 
 thened us so long, you might have gone 
 to a workhouse for me. People can't al- 
 ways afford to be charitable ; and as that 
 was my case, I shall now insist on your 
 accepting an offer that holds out a pro- 
 spect of remuneration, in some way or 
 other, for what I have done for you." 
 
 " Now, how can you be so cross, Fiddy ?" 
 cried Miss Bryerly : " can't you at once 
 agree to our having a wedding? Lord, 
 don't you hear of people every day marry- 
 ing merely for convenience ?" 
 
 " And consider," added her sister, gig-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 91 
 
 glingly, " that the more you dislike your 
 husband, the less you'll grieve for him 
 when you lose him." 
 
 " This may be all very laughable to 
 you," said Fidelia ; " but," bursting into 
 tears, " 'tis very much the reverse to me. — 
 In pity," turning her streaming eyes upon 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bryerly, " let me be no fur- 
 ther persecuted; but, as I supplicate, let 
 me now try what I can do for myself 
 in the world, and in any way desired I 
 will bind myself to be accountable for the 
 produce of my exertions till the pecuniary 
 part of my obligations are at least dis- 
 charged." 
 
 " Come, come — no more nonsense," said 
 Mr. Bryerly, sternly : " you may style 
 persuasion persecution, if you please, but 
 I am resolute in the present instance. I 
 am only acting to you as I would to my 
 own daughters, if they perversely shut 
 their eyes to what was for their advantage: 
 when young people are wilful, force must
 
 92 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 be resorted to — in a word, to cut the 
 matter short, Peckham you shall marry !" 
 
 " Never !" said Fidelia, firmly. 
 
 " We shall see — we shall see," cried Mr. 
 Bryerly, with a deriding smile, as, taking 
 up his hat, he walked out of the room. 
 
 So explicit he had not before been, and 
 Fidelia became absolutely terrified. With- 
 out the power of appealing to any one to 
 interest themselves in her behalf, she trem- 
 bled to think what she might be destined 
 to undergo. A state criminal could scarce- 
 ly be more strictly watched than she now 
 was, lest the persecution she was experi- 
 encing should get abroad; whenever the 
 family went out, Peckham was sure to 
 come to keep guard during their absence. 
 
 As usual, one evening that they were 
 engaged, he had come for this purpose, 
 when, provoked beyond all endurance, 
 Fidelia no sooner saw them gone, than 
 darting out of the parlour without cere- 
 mony, she took refuge in a summer-house
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 93 
 
 in the garden from the odious companion 
 they had left her. 
 
 Enraged at this treatment, and seized 
 besides with a fit of jealousy, Peckham 
 nimbly followed; and finding the door 
 locked, had no hesitation in forcing it. 
 
 Terror and rage alike pervaded the bo- 
 som of Fidelia at this conduct ; pushing 
 him with violence away, as he attempted 
 to seize her hand, she rushed out, and hur- 
 rying back to the house, had just reached 
 the staircase with an intention of shelter- 
 ing herself in her chamber, when he over- 
 took and stopped her. The involuntary 
 scream that burst from her at the instant 
 quickly brought a young Irish lad to the 
 spot, named Conolly, that Mr. Bryerly 
 had hired in London, and, together with 
 an old Scotchwoman long in his service, 
 had brought over to Ireland with him. 
 
 "Ah, then, what's the matter?" he 
 cried. " Sure, then, it's not yourself, Mr. 
 Peckham, that's holding Miss Fidelia a-
 
 94 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 gainst her will ?" striving, as he spoke, to 
 disengage her gown from the gripe of the 
 spiteful wretch. 
 
 " What's that to you, you imperent fel- 
 ler?" cried Peckham, who, when he waxed 
 wroth, usually relapsed into his cockney 
 mode of speaking. " You are not to ques- 
 tion your betters, I suppose ?" 
 
 " My betters ! Ah, faith, then, barring 
 Miss Fidelia herself, I don't think my bet- 
 ters are now here." 
 
 " I'll teach you that, you saucy jacka- 
 napes, if you don't take yourself off di- 
 rectly." 
 
 * Well, sure, nothing hinders me but 
 wanting to take you off first," laughing, 
 and again trying to release the gown of 
 Fidelia. 
 
 " You are an Irishman — any one may 
 see that by your imperence : but it shan't 
 go unpunished." 
 
 " An Irishman ! faith, and that you may 
 say with your own ugly mouth ; and so
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 95 
 
 was every mother's soul of mine before 
 me, man and woman, God give them a 
 happy rising !" 
 
 (i Yes — and what's more, an united 
 Irishman. I always thought you no bet- 
 ter than you should be, and now I know 
 it." 
 
 * Well, we are pretty even with one 
 another : but what's the use now of spit- 
 ting your venom here, like one of your 
 own English toads ?" 
 
 " You'll find that : I'll make your mas- 
 ter trounce you for your imperence, you 
 saucy varlet ! — I'll let him know what I 
 heard you calling me this evening — a wolf 
 in sheep's clothing." 
 
 * Well, the sorrow lie in that. I am 
 sure you're as lank and as greedy as a 
 wolf; and is not that a woollen coat?" 
 
 " Oh, you want to come off, do you ? 
 But it won't do, I assure you." 
 
 " Troth, jewel, you were never more 
 mistaken in your life than in thinking so. 
 I am mighty glad I have had an opportu-
 
 96 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 nity of telling you a bit of my mind ; and 
 if you are not gone speedily, I'll be after 
 telling you more of it. Now, how can such 
 a poor-looking spalpeen as you, the very 
 dirt and refuse of the earth, think the 
 likes of Miss Fidelia would cast an eye on 
 you?" 
 
 " An eye ! I'd have you to know, I have 
 had the eyes of as comely a maiden as she 
 turned upon me." 
 
 " Oh, they squinted, and so you thought 
 so. I remember myself, our parish priest, 
 father Noonen, had a terrible trick of look- 
 ing two ways for Sunday, so that when- 
 ever he took up his glass, I was always 
 bobbing my head in his face, out of man- 
 ners, thinking he was drinking my health, 
 when all the time his eyes were looking 
 straight forward to the other side of him. 
 Between ourselves, you are a mighty plain 
 man indeed, praised be the Maker ! I don't 
 think one could meet with an uglier man 
 than yourself between this and Ratoath ; 
 and then such a gassoon — the steward of
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 9T 
 
 Mrs. Winterfield, that upstart herself, to 
 think of looking up to Miss Fidelia!" 
 
 The rage of Peckham at these observa- 
 tions was unutterable. The fury it trans- 
 ported him to was but amusing, however, 
 to Conolly ; but at length, fearing it might 
 alarm Fidelia, he proceeded to make him 
 let her go. 
 
 In doing this a scuffle ensued, that reach- 
 ing the ears of Conolly's fellow-servant, 
 the old Scotchwoman already mentioned, 
 brought her out from the kitchen with a 
 bellows in her hand. Seeing Peckham 
 hanging like something venomous on Co- 
 nolly, and being unable to reach his hands, 
 with which he grasped his hair, she di- 
 rectly applied the bellows to his ear, and 
 blew such a blast into it as quickly in- 
 duced him to relinquish his hold. — " De'il 
 dang me," she cried, with fire sparkling 
 in her eyes, " if I could have got hold of 
 your lug, you should not have had to 
 complain of its being too cold, you spite- 
 ful carle!" 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 THE MUNSTEU COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 " Och, never mind, Janet, my crature !" 
 cried Conolly ; " the devil a harm he did 
 me, but comb my glips for me." 
 
 Overpowered with rage, Peckham now- 
 retreated to the parlour, avowing his re- 
 solution of remaining there till the return 
 of the family, that he might let them 
 know how he had been treated. 
 
 The moment she was released, Fidelia 
 hastened to her chamber, not a little agi- 
 tated by the recent scene. 
 
 Peckham kept his word; the moment 
 the Bryerlys returned, he preferred his 
 complaint, Conolly listened with calm- 
 ness to his recital, and when he had con- 
 cluded, entered upon his defence : but he 
 appealed to partial judges — for his impu- 
 dent behaviour he should be dismissed, as 
 soon as another person could be got to 
 supply his place, 
 
 He received his sentence with a low 
 bow, the object he had in view, in ever 
 desiring to get into the service of Mr. 
 Bryerly, being equally attainable by re-
 
 THE MTJNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 99 
 
 maining in his neighbourhood, namely, to 
 obtain the power of giving information to 
 others concerning Fidelia. 
 
 The moment he was dismissed, Fidelia 
 was required to make her appearance. — 
 " So, here's been a fine kick-up, Miss, 
 through your means !" said Mrs. Bryerly, 
 as she entered. 
 
 " It was not my fault, ma'am," Fidelia 
 calmly replied. 
 
 " Oh no, to be sure, you didn't insti- 
 gate the servant to affront Mr. Peckham." 
 
 " I disdain replying to such observa- 
 tions," returned Fidelia ; " all I shall say 
 is, that I am resolutely determined not to 
 suffer myself to be further annoyed by the 
 person you speak of." 
 
 " Come, come, madam," said Mr. Bry- 
 erly, in an authoritative tone, alarmed lest 
 Peckham should at last take umbrage at 
 her avowed dislike and contempt, and give 
 her up, an alarm he would not have felt, 
 had he really known the motive that ac- 
 tuated him to seek her hand, " this is car- 
 F 2
 
 100 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 rying the jest too far ; Mr. Peckham has 
 honoured you above your deserts by his 
 notice, and if still ungrateful for his gene- 
 rosity, and stubbornly blind to your own 
 interest, force shall be had recourse to, to 
 make you act properly.' 1 
 
 " Oh, she will yet smile upon her slave," 
 cried Peckham, now choosing to alter his 
 voice and look, and trying to take her 
 hand as he spoke ; but at his touch she 
 started back, as from a loathsome reptile, 
 and instantly fled the room. 
 
 Her terror at the savage threat of Mr. 
 Bryerly would have been greater, but 
 that, as her agitation subsided, she could 
 not bring herself to believe he would ven- 
 ture to attempt carrying it into effect. 
 
 The next morning, the moment almost 
 she appeared, she was informed that she 
 must prepare, immediately after breakfast, 
 to accompany the family to Cliff Manor, 
 where they were going to pass ^he day. 
 She instantly replied, that after what had 
 happened, she was determined never to
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 101 
 
 visit there again, while Mr. Peckham com- 
 manded. 
 
 Rage at this declaration, or rather sur- 
 prise at the firmness of it, occasioned a si- 
 lence of a minute. Mr. and Mrs. Bryerly 
 then burst into threats and invectives; but 
 in vain — Fidelia continued steady, at last 
 protesting, that rather than allow herself 
 to be taken there, she would alarm the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 This threat, originating in terror of what 
 might occur, should she be dragged there, 
 had the desired effect in return. The 
 visit to Cliff Manor was given up, and till 
 dinner-time she was allowed to remain 
 quietly in her chamber; but from the 
 sounds that at times reached her, she was 
 convinced there was a good deal of consul- 
 tation going on below. 
 
 At last one of the girls called her down to 
 dinner. Reluctantly she obeyed the sum- 
 mons, but was somewhat relieved by find- 
 ing the cause of her persecution not there, 
 Sullenness had now succeeded to ra^e;
 
 1G2 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 none of the party spoke to her, and in this 
 gloomy and unsocial way the evening 
 passed. 
 
 She had not quitted her room the next 
 morning, when Miss Bryerly came boun- 
 cing into it. — " Good news !" she cried ; 
 * ; so, for Heaven's sake! let's have none 
 of the lachrymals of yesterday — I am sure 
 it was enough to put any one in the hor- 
 rors the way we passed it. Bab and I 
 
 have been invited for a week to D ; 
 
 and the moment you left the parlour last 
 night, we set to work, and never ceased 
 till we got leave for you to accompany us. 
 So you have got a respite, you see ; and in 
 the mean time, before you return, who 
 knows what may happen ; you may change 
 your mind, or Peckham be induced to 
 give you up." 
 
 Fidelia's joy at this communication was 
 only equalled by her surprise, for it was 
 the first time she had ever reason to ima- 
 gine the Miss Bryerlys interested about 
 her — on the contrary, that they did not
 
 THE MTJNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 103 
 
 delight in having her plagued ; but in the 
 sudden gratitude now excited, all previous 
 unkindnesses were forgotten, and yield- 
 ing to the impulse of her affectionate heart, 
 she threw her arms round Miss Bryerly's 
 neck, and delightedly kissed her. 
 
 Buoyant with renovated hope, she de- 
 scended to the parlour, where Mr. and 
 Mrs Bryerly received her with a kind of 
 stiff graciousness, and who, after expatia- 
 ting on the obligations she was under to 
 their daughters for their good-nature, told 
 her, they hoped the longer time that was 
 now allowed her for deliberation would not 
 be passed in vain. 
 
 Fidelia evaded a reply, but determined 
 they should not long remain unapprised 
 of her decision. Convinced from this, that 
 her persecution from them was not at an 
 end, she resolved on addressing a letter to 
 the post-master where her nurse had lived, 
 requesting to know whether he could give 
 any information of her or the Beaumonts. 
 Fearful of being watched at D by
 
 104 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 the Miss Bryerlys, she determined, if pos- 
 sible, to write this letter before she went 
 there, and entrust it to the care of Conolly, 
 should she get an opportunity of speaking 
 to him. This she accordingly did, but not 
 of writing, so closely was she watched. 
 
 Forgetting something in the parlour, she 
 was sent down for it, and there she found 
 Conolly removing the breakfast-things. 
 He immediately addressed her, with an 
 apology for his boldness, as he termed the 
 liberty he took, but said he could not 
 think of going away, without first trying 
 to learn whether he could render her any 
 service. 
 
 Fidelia thanking him, and expressing 
 her regret for being the means of his losing 
 his place, replied, perhaps he might, as she 
 had some very particular friends 
 
 More she was not allowed to add, Mrs. 
 Bryerly at this instant calling to her from 
 the head of the stairs, where it seemed as 
 if she had been listening. 
 
 Breakfast was scarcely over, when the
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 105 
 
 Miss Bryerly s began looking out for the 
 
 chaise which was to be sent from D , 
 
 they informed her, to take them there. 
 But the morning wore away without 
 bringing it. The dinner-hour came — tea 
 succeeded, and still it did not make its 
 appearance, to the extreme wonder of the 
 fair expectants. At length, when all hope 
 of its coming seemed to be relinquished, 
 it drove to the door. 
 
 Mr. Bryerly immediately hurried out, 
 to rate the man for his negligence in not 
 coming at the time appointed. 
 
 The man protested it was not his fault, 
 but owing entirely to their house having 
 had a sudden and great call for horses that 
 day. 
 
 Mrs. Bryerly now affected to think it 
 was too late for the girls to set out ; but 
 they being all impatience, and the man 
 besides declaring that he was compelled 
 to return that night, whether they came 
 or not, and that the road was perfectly 
 safe* an assurance confirmed by Mr. Bry- 
 F 3
 
 106 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 erly, she at last consented, to the no small 
 joy of the anxious Fidelia. 
 
 The Miss Bryerlys were all glee for 
 some time after they set out — they did 
 nothing but laugh and joke; at length it 
 struck Fidelia, that the road they were 
 going was much narrower and worse than 
 the one they had come from D . 
 
 Scarcely had she made the observation, 
 when, pretending she was cold, Miss Bry- 
 erly drew up the windows, which, being 
 half wood, prevented any prospect. In a 
 few minutes after this, during which they 
 were often jolted in a manner that made 
 them almost scream, the chaise suddenly 
 stopped, and a loud altercation of voices at 
 the same instant was heard. 
 
 Extremely alarmed, Fidelia made an 
 immediate effort to let down a window ; 
 but which was prevented by Miss Bry- 
 erly, who sat in the middle, catching her 
 hand. The noise, however, increasing, 
 and with it her terror, she could no longer 
 be prevented ; forcing away her hand, she
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 107 
 
 let down the window, and to her inexpress- 
 ible surprise, on doing so, dusky as was 
 the light, perceived they were close to the 
 antique gate of Cliff Manor. — " Why, 
 good Heaven ! what's the meaning of this?" 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 " Och, nothing more, Miss," cried a 
 voice that she instantly recognized for Co- 
 nolly's, and who, as he spoke, came to the 
 chaise door, " nothing more in life, Miss, 
 jewel, than that you are where you didn't 
 expect to be. This spalpeen, instead of 
 going forenent him, as he should, to 
 
 D , has all this time been turning 
 
 about like a dog after his tail, till he has 
 brought you to Cliff Manor. I had a little 
 business here myself, and so the moment 
 you drove off, I ran here by a short cut 
 myself, and seeing the chaise,. I just stopt 
 it, to tell the driver his mistake ; and here 
 he has been wishing me all manner of bad 
 luck for my kindness — the devil return 
 the compliment ! — telling me it was no bu- 
 siness of mine."
 
 108 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY". 
 
 " And he told you what was right," 
 said or rather screamed Miss Bryerly, bend- 
 ing forward. " You are an impudent of- 
 ficious fellow, interfering in what does not 
 concern you ! Your business here was all 
 a feint, I am convinced, to let you see 
 what was going on. We are at Cliff Ma- 
 nor, certainly— there's no use in further 
 humbugging; so, Miss Fiddy, you'll sit 
 quiet, if you please, for there's no use in 
 resistance." 
 
 " Good God! have I then been de- 
 ceived!" exclaimed Fidelia, with hands 
 uplifted at this barbarity, this enormity. 
 " How great is my gratitude for the time- 
 ly discovery of this treachery!" Then de- 
 siring Conolly to open the door, with his 
 assistance she quickly disengaged herself 
 from her enraged companions, who, while 
 they strove to hold her back, shrieked 
 aloud for assistance. 
 
 All this while a friend of Conolly's was 
 holding the horses; and as she alighted, 
 she saw another man standing in the dark
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 109 
 
 shadow of the steep rocky bank that com- 
 pletely fenced in the road on one side. 
 
 Having extricated herself from the 
 chaise, she was turning to remonstrate 
 with the Miss Bryerlys on their cruelty, 
 and endeavour to prevail on them to re- 
 turn with her to Strandstown, when the 
 voice of Peckham, hurrying out in con- 
 sternation at hearing the cries of the Miss 
 Bryerlys, united to that of their father at 
 the same moment galloping down the 
 road, and loudly hallooing as he ap- 
 proached, to know what was the matter, 
 made her rush towards the bank, up which 
 there were paths leading to the fields. 
 
 The stranger she had just before no- 
 ticed lurking in its shade sprung forward 
 as she did so, and snatching her from the 
 ground, paused not till he had got her 
 over all impediments that briars, brambles, 
 and loose stones threw in the way of the 
 ascent : Conolly and his friend closely fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 iAi soon as her feet again touched the
 
 110 THE MUNSTEU COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ground, the former stepping forward, de- 
 sired to know w r here the friends lived she 
 had been mentioning to him that morn- 
 ing, as there was now nothing for her but 
 to go to them with all speed. 
 
 Fidelia wrung her hands. Alas! the 
 friends she had alluded to might be no 
 more ; or if even in existence, the distance 
 at which she was led to imagine their ha- 
 bitation precluded all idea of being able 
 to set out for it immediately. 
 
 All the horrors of her desolate situation 
 now rushed upon her mind ; she had quit- 
 ted the only protection she had in the 
 world — perforce, it was true, but that could 
 not alleviate her feelings at the circum- 
 stance, when she reflected it was without 
 having any other secured — without pos- 
 sessing the means of even ensuring herself 
 a temporary shelter. She groaned in an- 
 guish of soul unutterable; the cold dews 
 of terror burst from every pore — her eyes 
 were uplifted to heaven, till the light for- 
 sook them from their streaming, and she
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. Ill 
 
 fell fainting into the arms of the stranger 
 who had hitherto assisted her. 
 
 Was it fancy, or did she really, as she 
 was recovering, find herself pressed to a 
 heart that from its violent palpitation 
 seemed to her as if beating with strong 
 emotion at the moment? Was it fancy, 
 or did she really then feel lips cold and 
 trembling as her own, at the instant pressed 
 to her damp cheek ? As they were un- 
 closing, her eyes were naturally uplifted 
 to those of the person on whose shoulder 
 she was reclining, and fully encountering 
 his at the moment, she started in surprise 
 at the idea of having seen him before. 
 Oh yes — it was the smile, the sweet, the 
 resistless smile that beamed over his fea- 
 tures, as she gazed almost wildly at him, 
 left her no room to doubt an instant longer 
 its being the stranger she had met at 
 Hastings she now saw. 
 
 An involuntary exclamation, indicative 
 of the sensation she experienced at the cir- 
 cumstance, burst from her.
 
 112 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 " You recollect me, then, I perceive ?" 
 said he, still smiling. 
 
 "Recollect!" repeated Fidelia. Then 
 with a deep blush at the emphasis of the 
 expression, she more calmly added — Yes, 
 she seldom forgot any one she conceived 
 herself obliged to. 
 
 " How flattered am I at the idea of be- 
 ing regarded in that light by you !" he re- 
 plied, " more especially as I was led to 
 fear," and he looked a little reproachfully 
 at her, " that I was not to hope for any 
 further notice from you." 
 
 Fidelia, in unutterable confusion at his 
 allusion to conduct which she had ever 
 felt to be ungracious, hung her head, un- 
 knowing what to sav, since she could not 
 account for it. 
 
 • From this painful state of embarrass- 
 ment she was suddenly relieved by Co- 
 nolly, who, during her fainting, had run 
 off, and now returned to tell her he had 
 procured her accommodation, not only for 
 the night, but as long as she liked, at the
 
 THE MTJNSTEIt COTTAGE BOV. 113 
 
 house of a widow woman hard by, called 
 Judy M acquire, where she would be as 
 snug and cosey as she could desire, and 
 be free from all harm, both without and 
 within. 
 
 This information was consolation indeed 
 to the sinking heart of Fidelia. The en* 
 suing day she decided on setting on foot 
 her inquiry after the Beaumonts, and if it 
 should prove unsuccessful, or if she should 
 find them disinclined to serve her, then* 
 in that case, to dispose of her ring, which 
 from various circumstances she had now 
 reason to imagine of much greater conse- 
 quence than she had at first done, and 
 with the produce of it pay for all present 
 accommodation, and endeavour then to 
 procure, with what remained, some means 
 for future independence. 
 
 But though somewhat quieted by this 
 feasible plan, the idea of the light in whicli 
 her fugitive condition must make her ap- 
 pear, she was convinced, to her companion, 
 overwhelmed her with distress. More
 
 114 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 than once she was nearly tempted to enter 
 into some little explanation relative to her- 
 self, but was still checked by the evident 
 necessity there was for circumspection in 
 her present situation, and the impropriety 
 there would be in doing any thing that 
 had a tendency to establish a confidential 
 acquaintance with a person of whom she 
 knew nothing, or rather of whom, more 
 correctly speaking, she had been cautioned 
 to be on her guard : yet that that caution 
 was not a just one, the pain she felt at the 
 light in which she probably now appeared 
 to him was a convincing proof — a pain so 
 great as to deprive her of the power of 
 thanking him for his present attentions, 
 when, on reaching her destined shelter, 
 the arm that had supported her trembling 
 steps thither was withdrawn, and with a 
 fervent wish for the repose of the night re- 
 cruiting her exhausted spirits, he took 
 leave.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 115 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 j* \y 
 
 have slept together 
 
 Rose at an instant; learn'd, play'd, eat together ; 
 And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, 
 Still we went coupled, and inseparable." 
 
 The aspect of her hostess did not tend to 
 lessen her dejection; it answered every 
 idea she had ever formed from fancv or 
 
 m 
 
 description of that of a hag. Shakespeare's 
 Weird Sisters, Otway's Hag, and the 
 limping one that so long tormented the 
 merchant, in the Tales of the Genii, were 
 all brought to her recollection by the coun- 
 tenance of Judy Macquire. Her manners 
 were by no means more amiable than her 
 looks; she mumbled and muttered, and 
 when Fidelia thanked her for the ready 
 accommodation she had given her, merely
 
 116 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 nodded in reply. Her cottage, however, 
 was neat and comfortable, and in joy at 
 finding herself where she was assured of 
 being safe, Fidelia tried to reconcile her- 
 self to what was disagreeable. 
 
 While Judy was most ungraciously 
 completing the preparations she had com- 
 menced making for her, Fidelia took an 
 opportunity of again expressing to Conolly 
 her regret at the idea of having been the 
 means of unsettling him. 
 
 " Och, don't let that fret you, Miss. 
 The devil a word of lie in it, but if they 
 hadn't discharged me, I'd have discharged 
 myself, I believe; for you must know, 
 Miss, honey, the mistress and the young 
 ladies were mighty troublesome and cran- 
 ky ; and if they don't give me a character, 
 I have a friend who will give me a fine 
 beautiful one any day in the year, if he 
 don't take me to live with himself again, 
 long life to him !" 
 
 " What, the — the gentleman we en-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 117 
 
 countered so unexpectedly ?" said Fidelia, 
 stammering a little, and involuntarily 
 looking down. 
 
 Conolly answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " And pray who is he ?" asked Fidelia. 
 
 " He, Miss? he?" cried Conolly, stam- 
 mering so as to be scarcely articulate, and 
 colouring violently. " What, do you 
 
 mean him? Oh, he Did you never, 
 
 Miss," suddenly changing his tone, " hear 
 of the Grandisons hereabouts, one of your 
 fine ould ilegant families? They have a 
 house hard by here, and it's there there are 
 the doings — that is, I mean, 'tis there there 
 were the doings ; for now they are all dead 
 and gone and scattered, excepting just the 
 heir." 
 
 " And this is he?" Fidelia was on the 
 point of saying, when Judy, calling to 
 Conolly from the adjoining room to assist 
 her in removing some article of furniture, 
 prevented her; and when he returned, he 
 appeared in a violent hurry to be gone, 
 merely stopping to say he would be with
 
 118 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 her early the next day, to receive any com- 
 mands she might have for him. 
 
 He departed, without her having a sus- 
 picion of the real extent of her obligations 
 to him. Led by various circumstances to 
 suspect there was something plotting a- 
 gainst her, he set himself to watch ; and 
 by what he thus further overheard and ob- 
 served, was almost confirmed in this sus- 
 picion. This, however, was after she had 
 spoken to him in the parlour, when no 
 opportunity again occurred for giving her 
 a hint of what he thought. In conse- 
 quence of his fears, however, he no sooner 
 saw the chaise drive off, than by a short 
 cut, as he himself stated, he ran off to 
 Cliff Manor, with a young man to whom 
 he imparted them, determined on rescuing 
 her, though at the hazard of his life, if the 
 treachery he apprehended had been re- 
 sorted to. No common interest actuated 
 him to serve her, though he was bound 
 by the most solemn promises not to re- 
 veal it to her, at least for the present.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 119 
 
 In his hurry to descend the bank con- 
 tiguous to the Manor gate, he fell. 
 
 " D n you, you scoundrel !" ex- 
 claimed a gentleman, riding by at the in- 
 stant, whose horse was so startled by the 
 manner in which he came tumbling al- 
 most headlong into the road before him, 
 as to be scarcely manageable for a minute 
 or two, " what do you mean ? You have 
 nearly got my neck broke." 
 
 Conolly in an instant was on his feet, 
 and seizing the bridle of the restive ani- 
 mal — " Oh, master, jewel !" he exclaimed, 
 " is this you then ? Well, if this isn't a 
 tumble into good luck ! — 'tis no matter." 
 
 " Ah, I might well have known it was 
 you, you blundering rascal! But what 
 mischief are you about now ?" 
 
 " Is it mischief? But wait a bit. But," 
 patting the horse's neck, " isn't this Joke- 
 by, the ilegant crature? Faith, and it's 
 himself, that throws up his head as high 
 as ever." Then in a hurried manner he 
 briefly accounted for being there.
 
 120 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 The particulars he gave excited a de- 
 gree of interest and curiosity, that induced 
 the person to whom he gave them to de- 
 cide on witnessing the issue of the adven- 
 ture. 
 
 How this, through his prompt assist- 
 ance, was in a degree concluded, need not 
 be again detailed : suffice it, whatever in- 
 terest he had previously experienced was 
 redoubled tenfold, when he found that 
 the person whom he had assisted to snatch 
 from a fate hateful to her, was the being 
 whom of all others he was most anxious 
 about. That she was the person he con- 
 jectured, he would not permit himself to 
 doubt, because the persuasion gave a sanc- 
 tion to the sentiments that had involunta- 
 rily pervaded his mind for her ; but still, 
 on many accounts, it was essentially re- 
 quisite that he should have undeniable 
 proof of this. Her precipitate departure 
 from Hastings prevented his there endea- 
 vouring to obtain this satisfaction : for this 
 purpose, he traced the Brverlys to their re-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 121 
 
 sidence in London ; but there all further 
 clue was lost, for by that time they had 
 embarked for Ireland, and, from some cer- 
 tain embarrassments, had taken measures 
 for preventing its being generally known 
 whither they were gone. He now, how- 
 ever, trusted he should be able to obtain 
 the information he so anxiously solicited. 
 Conolly, however, affected utter ignorance 
 of the point he required to be enlightened 
 on, being alike enjoined to conceal, not 
 only from Fidelia herself, but every other 
 person, whatever he knew concerning 
 her. Had he known, or surmised, how- 
 ever, the motive for the inquiry now con- 
 cerning her, it was an injunction he cer- 
 tainly would scarcely have attended to. 
 
 Fidelia gladly retired to repose, or ra- 
 ther to her chamber, soon after his depar- 
 ture, so truly disagreeable was her hostess 
 to her, for repose was not immediately to 
 be thought of, in the distracted state of 
 her mind. Should the Beaumonts be no 
 more, or should they be disinclined to 
 
 vol. m g
 
 122 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 serve her, how appalling might be her 
 fate ! The plan which but a few minutes 
 before had quieted her, from its seeming 
 plausibility, now, on more mature reflec- 
 tion, failed to afford consolation, from its 
 vagueness and uncertainty. She wept, 
 she wrung her hands, and nothing but her 
 strong reliance on Heaven prevented her, 
 in this moment of desolation, from sinking 
 into utter despair. — " And oh !" she ex- 
 claimed, * were all to feel what I feel for 
 the want of relative protection and kind- 
 ness, the social ties of life would not be so 
 often disregarded as they are. But, alas ! 
 such is too frequently the perverseness of 
 human nature, that blessings possessed are 
 not always valued as they ought to be. 
 Oh ! did those who are impatient of a pa- 
 rent's control know what it is to be de- 
 prived of a parent's tenderness, with what 
 meek submission wouldtheybendto.it? 
 Did the too-often wrangling offspring of a 
 family know what it is to stand alone in 
 the wide world, without a natural claim 
 on any one for sympathy or kindaess, how
 
 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 1£3 
 
 firmly would they be united, and grate- 
 fully bless the kindred chain that bound 
 them to each other !" 
 
 At length the honeyed dew of sleep fell 
 upon her wearied eyelids, giving her a 
 transient respite from anxiety and sorrow. 
 Early, however, she awoke ; and, her heart 
 heavy in her bosom, sought, at the cabin- 
 door, relief to its heaviness from the fresh- 
 ness of the morning air. But the chillness 
 of the dawn had not yet given way, nor the 
 vapours that shrouded the valley in gloom 
 entirely dispersed, and the cheerless aspect 
 of all without heightened, if possible, her 
 dejection. But at length ifae mountains 
 began to clear, the sky to kindle with 
 blushes ; and as she gazed on the glorious 
 spectacle of the rising sun, heard the wild 
 warblings that burst from every bush, the 
 soft lo wings from the hills, and beheld the 
 old trees of the soil gently swayed by the 
 breath of morn, the divine hymn of our 
 first parents was remembered, and she 
 could not forbear thinking that every thing 
 G 2
 
 124 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 was endued with living instinct, to do ho- 
 mage to Him M who out of darkness calls up 
 light/' 
 
 In the awakening of nature from repose, 
 the mild tints that mark the break of day, 
 its dubious gloom and tender twilight, 
 there is a pensive charm that, penetrating 
 to the heart, excites the most delicious 
 feelings, such as soften to melancholy, and 
 sooth to romantic musings. 
 
 There was nought peculiar to the hour 
 but what gave rise in her bosom to lux- 
 urious sensations — the freshness of the 
 cool breeze that sportively uplifts the filmy 
 gossamer, the fluttering of the insect hosts, 
 the twittering of the birds, the glittering 
 of the dewdrops in the spreading ray des- 
 tined to exhale them — emblematic of man 
 to the moralizing mind, too often blind 
 and misguided, exulting in the very cir- 
 ca instance destined to occasion his ruin. 
 
 While thus engaged, Judy was within, 
 preparing breakfast, but not with alacrity 
 did she set about it. Though early as the 
 hour was, a basket had arrived at her cot-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 125 
 
 tage, that one might have supposed would 
 have put her in good-humour from its eon- 
 tents : but Judy was truly what might be 
 called a person of a cross-grained disposi- 
 tion, one who delighted in thwarting and 
 vexing others. — " Fine hyson !" she ex- 
 claimed, as she unpacked the basket. " Ay 9 
 it's a fine thing to be young and handsome. 
 Mundungus was thought good enough for 
 me. Treble-refined sugar too ! and wine 
 too ! and cakes, and veal ! — Marry come up ! 
 she that with her teeth could get through 
 any thing ! but I might munch away long 
 enough at tough beef, or keep Lent on 
 salt herrings, before I'd be thought of. A 
 likely story, to be sure, they've told me ! 
 devil run away with the liars ! and so, be- 
 cause he has given me this bit of a shabeen 
 house, and fifteen pounds a-year to keep 
 the wolf from the door, I am to be made 
 a convenience of, sorrow take his impu- 
 dence !" 
 
 The soliloquizing Judy's cabin (for to 
 better understand her own thoughts she
 
 126 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE EOT. 
 
 generally repeated them aloud) stood in a 
 vale, fronting a distant ridge of mountains, 
 and directly at the foot of another. A 
 few scattered hovels stood near it; and, 
 further on, the mansion which Fidelia was 
 led to imagine belonged to the Grandi- 
 sons. 
 
 Fidelia could not avoid feeling some 
 anxiety to hear a little more of the owner 
 of this, as, from what Conolly had said, 
 she concluded the stranger to be ; and ac- 
 cordingly, when at length ungraciously 
 called in to breakfast, endeavoured to in- 
 troduce the subject by speaking of his 
 supposed mansion : but Judy would not 
 allow her to succeed, pretending to be too 
 busy about one matter or other to be able 
 to attend to her; and certainly she had 
 enough to occupy her, between the pig 
 coming in to pay his morning compliments, 
 with a snout by no means of the clean- 
 est description ; and next all the cocks and 
 hens, with a whole tribe of geese and tur- 
 kies, which, not choosing immediately to
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 127 
 
 retire, kept up such a screaming, and racing, 
 and fluttering about, that, together with 
 the spitting of the cat as they approached 
 her, and the growling of the dog when 
 they disturbed him, soon made the place 
 resemble Bedlam. 
 
 Breakfast over, Fidelia would have writ- 
 ten her intended letter, but no materials 
 were to be procured for the purpose ; she 
 was fain therefore to wait patiently for the 
 arrival of Conolly. Contrary to her ex- 
 pectations, however, he came not, and her 
 inquietude at length became intolerable. 
 More than once she felt almost inclined to 
 try and get Judy to go up to colonel Gran- 
 dison's, to make an inquiry concerning him, 
 but still checked herself, lest, if overheard 
 by the master of the house, it might be 
 misconstrued into a wish to force attention 
 from him. She wondered,would he think of 
 making any inquiry about her? Whether 
 she had inspired him with any interest, 
 she could not decide; but it was but na- 
 tural to suppose he had a sufficient degree
 
 128 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 of curiosity to render him solicitous to ob- 
 tain what information he could concerning 
 her, so that by this time, she concluded, 
 the strange circumstances in which he 
 found her placed were accounted for to 
 him. 
 
 Little was she aware how entirely she 
 engrossed his thoughts at the moment! 
 The circumstances just alluded to height- 
 ened his previous solicitude for the infor- 
 mation he desired ; but how to obtain this 
 was the point. His real motive for it he 
 had reasons for not yet wishing to avow, 
 yet without assigning it, he knew not what 
 other to suggest. Perhaps the interest he 
 had both now and previously evinced for 
 her, might lead her gradually to repose 
 confidence in him, if an opportunity for 
 conversing occurred. To obtain this, he 
 conceived no place could be more propi- 
 tious than that where she now was, and 
 accordingly he decided on contriving a 
 pretext for sending Conolly out of the way 
 the next day, till it would be too late for
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 129 
 
 her to repair to the friends to whom, thro' 
 him, he learnt it was her intention to re- 
 pair. 
 
 To appear indebted to chance for what 
 he was solicitous of, namely, an opportu- 
 nity of conversing with her, appeared to 
 him the best mode of proceeding. Ac- 
 cordingly, in the course of the morning, 
 he slowly passed Judy's on horseback, but 
 the object he sought was not visible ; he 
 feared alighting, lest a premeditated visit 
 should occasion her to avoid seeing him, 
 well aware of what he conceived she must 
 feel of the delicacy of her situation. 
 
 But though not seen, Fidelia had seen. 
 She was standing at the window as he 
 rode up, but instinctively drew back at 
 the moment. Scarcely had he passed, 
 however, ere she thought she had done 
 wrong in avoiding such an opportunity of 
 thanking him for his assistance on the pre- 
 ceding night. 
 
 "Restless and languid, she at length ven- 
 tured out, fully persuaded the Bryerlys 
 G 3
 
 130 THE MUNSTEH COTTAGE BOV, 
 
 would never seek her where she was, and 
 trusting to meet Conoliy on the way. In- 
 voluntarily her steps turned in the direc- 
 tion of the colonel's supposed dwelling. 
 It was an antique mansion, standing high, 
 in a garden so crowded with every thing 
 that was sweet and delicious, that the air 
 around was absolutely embalmed with fra- 
 grance, and the Peris of the Indians might 
 here have been satisfied to hover. 
 
 The exhaling sweets had a voluptuous 
 effect on the feelings of Fidelia ; she per- 
 fectly luxuriated in them — not without re- 
 collecting what is said in the Guardian of 
 the effect of flowers upon the nerves and 
 fibres of the brain resembling that of fine 
 music upon the mind. There was a look of 
 happy comfort about the house inexpressi- 
 bly pleasing. — " Ah, what a delightful re- 
 sidence !*' she thought. She sighed, and 
 leaned her face ? with half-closed eyes, against 
 the railing, as if to exclude images that 
 could never be realized : " oh no, no !— 
 never — never!" she uttered aloud.
 
 THE MUXSTER COTTAGE BOY. 131 
 
 A rustling amongst the thick foliage 
 that overspread the railing on the inside 
 made her start. — " Good Heavens f she 
 ejaculated to herself, fearful, from her con- 
 fusion, of having given utterance to all 
 that had been passing in her mind at the 
 moment, had she then been overheard. 
 But no — all again was still. Her ear then 
 had deceived her, or else it was the zephyr 
 she had heard, rifling sweetness from the 
 flowers. She tarried no longer, however. 
 
 Her first inquiry on regaining Judy's 
 was after Conolly : no Conolly, however, 
 had made his appearance, and of conse- 
 quence she became more disquieted and 
 perplexed. 
 
 Whilst musing on the circumstance, an 
 itinerant harper came to the cabin. Being 
 a privileged visitor, he was immediately 
 asked in, but declined Judy's proffered 
 hospitality till he had done something to 
 earn it; accordingly he seated himself on 
 the turf-seat at the door, and continued 
 playing there a considerable time. At
 
 132 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 length he came in, but left his harp with- 
 out. 
 
 Fidelia, whom his strains had soothed, 
 took his vacant seat, and lightly swept the 
 chords, but almost as unconsciously at the 
 moment as the wind touches the iEolian 
 harp: but this abstraction did not long 
 continue. She was passionately fond of 
 music ; and notwithstanding all the impe- 
 diments thrown in her way, had, through 
 the force of genius, and by dint of perse- 
 verance, made herself a perfectly-accom- 
 plished mistress of it. 
 
 She was bending over the instrument, 
 lost to all external objects at the moment, 
 when the whine of a dog made her look 
 up, and she beheld Grandison standing 
 beside her, in an attitude of motionless 
 attention, with a large dog at his knee, 
 who not being quite so much charmed as 
 his master, had taken this method of ex- 
 pressing his impatience to be gone. 
 
 At once surprised and confused, Fidelia 
 was starting up, when, w r ith a kind of
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 133 
 
 gentle violence, he prevented her, entreat- 
 ing her not to make him consider himself 
 an intruder, by punishing him in this 
 manner. 
 
 Thus entreated, Fidelia could not refuse. 
 Languid and inert before, spite of her dif- 
 fidence and agitation, how differently did 
 she now perform — now that she had a lis- 
 tening ear to charm — now that she beheld 
 an admiring eye gazing on her with rap- 
 ture! But what a numbness often seizes 
 the faculties — how dull, how torpid do 
 they become, without such a stimulus — 
 without the consciousness of there being 
 some person to be interested by their ex- 
 ertions! Grandison was indeed all ecstacy ; 
 and still as he praised and pleaded, Fidelia, 
 like " Hope, enchanted, smiled and waved 
 her golden hair." 
 
 At length she rose, but not directly to 
 retire within. Twilight was just begin- 
 ning to be brightened by a flood of silver 
 radiance, whilst all around was beginning 
 to be wrapt in stillness.
 
 134 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 As almost unconsciously she stopt to 
 contemplate the lovely scene, Fidelia was 
 imperceptibly led to converse with her 
 companion with less restraint than she had 
 before done, when Conolly came suddenly 
 bolting before them, and after the pause 
 of a minute, beckoning Grandison away, 
 told him he wished him to return to the 
 house directly, in order to listen to the 
 communication he had to make him. 
 
 Grandison hesitated. He had flattered 
 himself, from the manner in which Fidelia 
 was beginning to converse with him, he 
 was drawing her towards the point he 
 aimed at : Conolly was so urgent, however, 
 that having told Fidelia he would not wish 
 her good-night then, as he should hope, 
 from the delightfulness of the evening, to 
 find her still out enjoying it when he re- 
 turned, he suffered himself to be prevailed 
 on to return with him to the house in 
 which, on her account, he had now taken 
 up his abode. But when, after hearken- 
 ing to what he had to say, and which, to
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 135 
 
 his extreme anger, he found of little eon* 
 sequence, he proceeded to go out again, 
 he found the door locked. Conolly was 
 instantly called ; but though he acknow- 
 ledged having locked the door, he denied 
 all knowledge of the key. 
 
 " That is impossible, sir !" said Grandi- 
 son, in a fury ; " you can't have forgot a 
 thing you had in your hand but a minute 
 ago ; so produce it instantly !" 
 
 "Ah, then, what signifies about it?" 
 cried Conolly ; " somehow, I dare say, I'll 
 be able to make it out by morning." 
 
 Grandison could scarcely command him- 
 self. He turned into the parlour, whither 
 Conolly directly followed. — " Devil burn 
 the key !" he said ; but if there was any 
 message to Miss Fidelia, he could open a 
 window, and take it himself. 
 
 " You, you rascal !" 
 
 " Yes, myself; for if I am seen at Judy's 
 cabin, speaking wid her at this hour, no 
 harm would be thought of it; but, master 
 dear, that wouldn't be the case if you were,
 
 136 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 and when once bad thoughts are raised, or 
 fools' tongues set a-going, God only knows 
 where the slander may stop ; and, ilegant 
 as she is in shape and feature, and every 
 inch of her a lady, yet she's like myself, 
 depending perhaps on a good name to get 
 through life ; and since that's the case, sure 
 it's not yourself, with your own noble heart, 
 that's the friend of the poor and the un- 
 happy, and the unbefriended, that would 
 be after doing any thing to injure her, the 
 crature ?" 
 
 The fact was, Conolly conceiving it ut- 
 terly impossible for Fidelia to be viewed 
 without admiration, and conceiving the 
 business on which he had been sent on 
 that day a very vague one, began suddenly 
 to conceive ideas very injurious to the ho- 
 nour and generosity of his present master 
 — such as were rather confirmed on find- 
 ing him, on his return, with Fidelia, but 
 such as he never for an instant would have 
 yielded to, if aware of Grandison's own 
 surmises concerning her. Had it been any
 
 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 137 
 
 other person, so far from troubling himself 
 on the subject, he probably would have 
 deemed the suspected gallantry of Gran- 
 dison very justifiable : but Fidelia was a 
 being of whom even a thought of injury 
 was not to be entertained — in whose de- 
 fence neither rank nor power could pre- 
 vent his stepping forward. 
 
 " Injure her!" repeated Grandison, em- 
 phatically ; then checking himself, afraid 
 of betraying too much, he took up a book, 
 for the purpose of getting rid of Conolly. 
 He saw the suspicion he entertained, and, 
 convinced he should confirm it by per- 
 severing in his original intention, relin- 
 quished it. 
 
 What had just occurred rendered him 
 still more aware of the delicacy due to the 
 peculiar situation of Fidelia ; and he ac- 
 cordingly now rather resolved to expedite 
 than retard her removal to her friends, 
 since, under respectable protection, there 
 would be a proper sanction given to any 
 attention she received from him.
 
 138 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 " Injure her!" he warmly repeated, as 
 he walked about the room, musing on 
 the recent incident : " no, dear girl ! the 
 claim of unprotected innocence on my 
 honour and generosity is in thee doubly 
 heightened. Though all that the volup- 
 tuous imagination of the libertine must 
 delight to dwell on, yet of thee a thought 
 less pure than thy own inspirations never 
 pervaded my breast. Could passion 
 sway, the memory of the action would 
 check the impulse, and in the act of grasp- 
 ing thee as my victim, I should recoil 
 with horror at the deep damnation of the 
 deed. Pure, innocent, and lovely as thy- 
 self, be thy life !- — may thy virgin cheek 
 never know any other blushes than those 
 of modesty and feeling — thy soft bosom 
 ever remain a stranger to the pangs of 
 remorse, the embarrassments of guilty 
 shame !" 
 
 Meanwhile Fidelia continued loitering 
 before the cabin-door, till the sinking of 
 the moon no longer allowed her a pretext
 
 THE MTTNSTEll COTTAGE BOY. 139 
 
 for continuing out. From a deep reverie 
 she was suddenly roused by catching the 
 eyes of Judy intently fastened on her. 
 Almost starting, with a deep blush of con- 
 fusion she stammered out something of 
 her surprise at Conoliy's not having come 
 for the letter he had promised to take for 
 her. 
 
 " He, the spalpeen ! sorrow bit of him, 
 I dare say, has thought another word 
 about it." She then proceeded to ask Fide- 
 lia whither she wanted it sent? 
 
 On replying — " To Cooleamere," she re- 
 peated — " Ah, then, what should hinder 
 you from being after taking a walk there 
 yourself, instead of putting your friends 
 there to the cost of a letter ?" 
 
 Fidelia answered — " The distance." 
 
 " The distance !" the other repeated con- 
 temptuously ; " ah, then, is it of a bit of 
 a walk of only five miles you are speak- 
 ing?'> 
 
 This brought about an explanation, and 
 to the inexpressible joy and surprise of
 
 140 THE MUXSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 Fidelia, she now discovered that Coolea- 
 mere was really no further off than the 
 distance just mentioned from her present 
 abode. 
 
 " You know it then?" said Fidelia; 
 " and since you do, know something per- 
 haps of the family of Mr. Beaumont there?" 
 
 " Ah, then, you may say that : many a 
 fat goose, and good hin, and fine basket of 
 fresh eggs, I've sold to madam there ; and 
 many a good glass of the creatshure I've 
 got from her, long life to her for that !" 
 
 Having satisfied herself concerning the 
 Beaumonts, Fidelia next inquired about 
 her nurse ; but of her Judy could tell no- 
 thing more than that she heard she had 
 gone to America. 
 
 Judy having drawn from her fair guest 
 the motive for her strong anxiety to visit 
 Cooleamere, proposed they should set out 
 for it the next morning, by dawn of day. 
 This proposal, however, did not by any 
 means emanate from a wish to oblige Fide- 
 lia — her nature indeed must have under-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 141 
 
 gone a thorough change ere any wish of 
 that kind respecting any one could be en- 
 tertained, but entirely to a malicious and 
 covetous hope that her hurrying her away 
 in this manner might occasion vexation 
 and disappointment to others, and allow 
 her to appropriate to herself entirely the 
 various things sent in for her use. 
 
 Fidelia assented, but in a few minutes 
 after, impelled by a feeling she scarcely 
 liked to acknowledge to herself, said she 
 did not think it absolutely requisite they 
 should set out at the very early hour first 
 mentioned. Judy, however, was positive; 
 and, as a plausible pretext for being so, 
 pretended she had some geese to take to 
 Cooleamere, which, if not early there with, 
 she might probably be obliged to bring 
 back with her. 
 
 Forced to acquiesce, Fidelia strove to 
 lose her involuntary chagrin at the cir- 
 cumstance, in joyful anticipation of the 
 next day. 
 
 By the time appointed she was ready,
 
 142 THE MONSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 and having partaken of some girdle bread 
 and a bowl of milk with her hostess, they 
 set out together, Judy with a basket of 
 geese at her back, which soon, either dis- 
 liking this mode of conveyance, or else be- 
 ing as spiteful as herself, began pulling 
 and plucking at her head, in such a man- 
 ner as occasioned many stoppages, with 
 numerous exclamations of — Wasn't she to 
 be pitied ? — and that it certainly was the 
 devil's own breed she had on her back ! 
 
 Their way led through the mountain- 
 ous ridge at the back of her cabin, where 
 every thing was so still, so sterile, and so 
 wild, that but for the sight of a lonely 
 hovel now and then, with the encounter 
 of a car carrying turf from the neighbour- 
 ing bog, Fidelia would almost have been 
 tempted to imagine herself remote from 
 any inhabited place; and here she could 
 not help wondering, as she had often done 
 before, when her eye, ranging over a vast 
 extent of country, scarcely saw a vestige 
 of inhabitation, where the immense popu-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 143 
 
 lation of the place was lodged, for im- 
 mense she knew it to be, from the crowds 
 that on a Sunday surrounded the chapel, 
 or on a holiday were seen loitering along 
 the roads ; so that from -this circumstance 
 she was almost tempted to suppose that, 
 like the followers of Roderic Dhu, they 
 lay concealed amidst the heath of the de- 
 sert, ready to start up at the first sound 
 of alarm, or intimation of festivity. 
 
 But sterile as was the general aspect of 
 the country in this direction, her admira- 
 tion was even here often excited by the 
 rich colouring that frequently met her eye. 
 Xothing could exceed the gorgeous effect 
 produced by the bright yellow and purple 
 of the furze and heath, with which nature 
 had here, in various directions, spread 
 patches of the rocky soil. 
 
 But though Judy declared that a walk 
 of four times the length could not fatigue 
 her, and stumped away indeed in a man- 
 ner calculated to gain credit to the asser- 
 tion, she passed not a cabin without stop-
 
 144 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ping to sit down awhile, sometimes under 
 the pretext of getting her pipe rekindled 
 (without which she would as much have 
 thought of going out for any distance as 
 a German postillion), sometimes to have a 
 little gossip, so that the patience of her 
 companion was nearly exhausted ; for hav- 
 ing once quitted the place where she had 
 involuntarily wished to linger a littlelonger, 
 she was all anxiety to find herself at Coole- 
 amere. 
 
 At length the well-remembered steeple 
 of its little church met her view, and pre- 
 sently after a number of other equally-fa- 
 miliar objects. Tears of joy and delight 
 filled her eyes at the recognition, but 
 speedily were these feelings damped by 
 the sight of her poor nurse's cabin, not 
 merely untenanted, but in ruins. 
 
 This was not a time, however, for the 
 indulgence of the sensations its desolation 
 excited. Accompanied as she was, she 
 had attracted notice ; she hurried on ac- 
 cordingly, and soon after beheld the wood-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 145 
 
 bine-covered dwelling of Mr. Beaumont. 
 It stood by the road-side, divided from it 
 by a small court; behind was a garden 
 for use 'and ornament, and a beautiful 
 meadow, extending to the very edge of 
 the cliffs that extended along the coast, 
 and where, on a fine day, it was delightful 
 to sit and listen to the rippling of the 
 waves below, watch the distant vessels, 
 and contemplate the white foam of the 
 surge, that broke against the widely-se- 
 vered and immense headlands that consti- 
 tuted the magnificent but dangerous bay 
 of Strandstown. 
 
 Albina was setting some flowers in the 
 court. Fidelia tried to accost her collect- 
 edly, but the effort was beyond her power. 
 She threw her arms round her neck, and as 
 she pressed her to her bosom, sobbed up- 
 on it the joy of her heart at this meeting. 
 
 The loved companion of her infancy 
 had never ceased to be tenderly remem- 
 bered by Albina ; her delight, therefore, at 
 this instant was not inferior to Fidelia's. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE LOY, 
 
 Their mutual exclamations soon attracted 
 the notice of Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont. 
 The explanation Fidelia gave was brief: 
 when she had concluded, Mr. Beaumont, 
 taking her affectionately in his arms, bade 
 her dismiss all care for the present, as she 
 should remain with them, and participate 
 in whatever indulgence they had the power 
 of giving their Albina. Whose joy or 
 gratitude (hers or Albina's) at this decla- 
 ration was greater, it would be impossible 
 to say ; and at length she flattered herself 
 she had surmounted the perils of her state.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 117 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Thus in assemblies have I seen 
 
 A nymph of brightest charms and mien 
 Wake envy in each ugly face, 
 And buzzing scandal fill the place." 
 
 Mrs. Beaumont, however, by no means 
 participated in the lively satisfaction of the 
 rest of the party. Fond of her own en- 
 joyments, and anxious to give to her idol 
 Albina all the extraneous advantages of 
 dress, she very little relished the idea of 
 any unnecessary expence ; besides, Fidelia 
 was so extremely beautiful, she might 
 prove a dangerous rival to her darling : al- 
 together, therefore, she conceived Mr. 
 Beaumont extremely imprudent and ab- 
 surd in the promise he had made, nor could 
 she forbear imparting to him her opinion 
 on the subject at the first opportunity. 
 h 2
 
 148 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOV. 
 
 He would not, however, be persuaded 
 to think as she did. The expence now 
 incurred was too trifling, he contended, to 
 be thought of; besides, their Albina re- 
 quired a companion of her own age ; and 
 what unspeakable delight, he added, must 
 it afford them, if yet able to think, that 
 through the protection now afforded her, 
 they were the means of having so inte- 
 resting a creature happily settled, and res- 
 cued from all the dangers to which beauty 
 so exquisite as hers was likely to expose 
 her. 
 
 " Beauty !" with a peevish " pish !" Mrs. 
 Beaumont repeated : did he then indeed 
 think her so handsome — handsomer than 
 Albina ? 
 
 <• Why, perhaps, natural partiality would 
 prevent my acknowledging that," he re- 
 plied, smiling; but those not actuated by 
 a similar feeling might perhaps confess 
 they did. 
 
 This was an unfortunate assertion for 
 poor Fidelia: from that moment Mrs.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 149 
 
 Beaumont decided on doing every thing 
 in her power to keep her in the back- 
 ground. 
 
 Unsuspicious, however, of having ex- 
 cited either envy or ill-will, Fidelia might 
 now be truly said to enjoy, for the first 
 time since her infancy, something like hap- 
 piness. Nothing could possibly be kinder 
 than the general conduct of the family to- 
 wards her, with now and then the excep- 
 tion of a little pettishness from Mrs. Beau- 
 mont, but which, ascribing to some natu- 
 ral infirmity of temper, and not any pre- 
 meditated petulance, she overlooked. She 
 had now those advantages she had long 
 sighed for — access to a good library, and 
 the conversation of persons calculated to 
 improve and delight her mind. 
 
 Mr. Beaumont was a man of a good and 
 well-cultivated understanding, and derived 
 inexpressible pleasure from assisting her 
 in those studies which she had hitherto 
 not been allowed to prosecute in the man- 
 ner she wished. As a means of prevent-
 
 150 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ing an inordinate love of dissipation or 
 pleasure, he had cultivated a taste in his 
 granddaughter's mind for all that was both 
 useful and ornamental, so that she could 
 not even ramble over the solitary fields in 
 their neighbourhood without deriving a- 
 ■musement from the knowledge he had im- 
 parted. 
 
 With what additional pleasure did Fide- 
 lia now begin to view the bespangled face 
 of nature, now that she gradually acquired 
 a knowledge of the names and virtues of 
 the various plants and wildflowers, that 
 by their varied hues gave such a rich co- 
 louring to its surface ! In studies or re- 
 tired walks Mrs. Beaumont did not inter- 
 fere; but whenever an intimation was 
 given of introducing her into company, 
 she always made some excuse or other for 
 avoiding this. 
 
 In their immediate vicinity there was 
 no opportunity for an introduction of the 
 kind, but two or three miles off there were 
 a few families, with whom they kept up
 
 THE MCNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 151 
 
 an intercourse, and at whose respective 
 houses they often met with a good deal of 
 company. Beyond the society thus afford- 
 ed, Mr Beaumont did not wish his grand- 
 daughter to go, conceiving in this there 
 was every chance of her meeting with 
 such a match as he could wish her to form. 
 Mrs. Beaumont, however, whose aspirings 
 were infinitely more lofty, could not be 
 prevailed on to confine her to it. There 
 were balls and assemblies continually at 
 
 D during the winter months, and of 
 
 these she determined she should be a fre- 
 quenter. 
 
 With the immediate inhabitants of this 
 town she had no acquaintance, conse- 
 quently knew nothing of their extreme 
 particularity with regard to those they 
 thought proper to admit to their society. 
 A complete line was drawn, and to obtain 
 this honour it was requisite there should 
 be some undeniable proof of rank or for- 
 tune — real intrinsic respectability was a 
 thing of no consequence. Now it so hap-
 
 152 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 pened, that though the Beaumonts were 
 
 not acquainted at D , they were still, 
 
 in a degree, known there, through the fa- 
 milies already alluded to; and a report 
 prevailing that Mr. Beaumont had once 
 been a tradesman in the North, and no- 
 thing in his mode of living leading to a 
 supposition of his having realized a suffi- 
 cient fortune to wipe away the degradation 
 this attached to him, an idea of his family 
 presuming to enter an assembly composed 
 of the elegant, the enlightened, the po- 
 lished inhabitants of D , never once 
 
 entered their heads. 
 
 Mrs. Beaumont having made up her 
 mind to her granddaughter's mixing in 
 the assemblies there, made several efforts 
 to have her introduced to them by some 
 one of the families they visited, but still 
 failed of succeeding ; at one time there 
 was not room for her in their carriage 
 — at another they did not exactly under- 
 stand that it was then intended they 
 should go ; and so on they still continued
 
 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 153 
 
 one excuse or another for disappointing 
 Mrs. Beaumont, positively decided against 
 chaperoning a person they deemed of too 
 little consequence to wish publicly to ap* 
 pear acquainted with. 
 
 At length, tired by these continual eva- 
 sions, though without suspecting the real 
 cause of them, Mrs. Beaumont, on the 
 sudden announcement of a charity-ball, to 
 which a particular introduction, as to a 
 subscription one, was not requisite, decided 
 on going herself with Albina ; and in or- 
 der to render the party pleasanter, she made 
 it a point that a Mrs. Cobbs, the widowed 
 owner of a small tenement contiguous to 
 her own residence, with her two daugh- 
 ters, should accompany them. 
 
 A native of D , and consequently 
 
 acquainted with the ridiculous, perhaps 
 ludicrous distinctions, that prevailed there 
 (for those who made them were them- 
 selves of a' class of society that else- 
 where would have been considered of no 
 consequence), Mrs. Cobbs, whose husband 
 H3
 
 154 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 had been a tradesman of the place, vainly 
 endeavoured to excuse herself from accom- 
 panying Mrs. Beaumont there on this oc- 
 casion, but, from a feeling, of pride, with- 
 out assigning the real cause of her objec- 
 tion. 
 
 At length it was decided as Mrs. Beau- 
 mont wished, and also that their intention 
 should be kept secret; the idea of the 
 surprise their unexpected appearance there 
 would occasion heightening not a little 
 the pleasure Mrs. Beaumont anticipated 
 from the circumstance. An elegant dress 
 was bespoke for Albina, and on the ap- 
 pointed evening they set out for a hotel 
 in D — — 9 where, on descending from her 
 toilet, Albina absolutely astonished her 
 companions by the splendour of her dress; 
 several tasteful and costly ornaments, which 
 had not before been shewn (from the stric- 
 tures Mrs. Beaumont was aware they were 
 likely to incur from Mr. Beaumont), being 
 now displayed. 
 
 The ball-room was filling fast by the
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 155 
 
 time they entered it. Albina, a little shy- 
 on this her first introduction into public, 
 proposed, instead of immediately parading 
 it, they should take a seat for a few mi- 
 nutes, in order that they might look more 
 collectedly about them. 
 
 Reluctantly her grandmother acquiesced, 
 impatient to exhibit her beautiful form to 
 the view of, she made no doubt, admiring 
 gazers. While sitting, the reconnoitring 
 glances she threw round her soon disco- 
 vered, as she expected, several of her neigh- 
 bours: but what was her surprise — what 
 her disappointment and mortification — 
 when, instead of coming up to her as soon 
 as they saw her, she clearly perceived them 
 doing all in their power to avoid catching 
 her salutations ! But this was not all ; 
 dancing commenced without Albina's be- 
 ing asked to stand up; while still, as va- 
 rious detached parties rudely brushed past 
 them, they heard invidious remarks, ac- 
 companied by significant glances, on the
 
 156 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 very indifferent company that was present 
 that night. 
 
 In short, the principal set were abso- 
 lutely astonished — astounded — at seeing 
 her and Mrs. Cobbs there. How could 
 they have the courage, the temerity, to 
 enter an assembly consisting of the first 
 
 class at D ? — "But these kind of 
 
 charity-balls always render one liable to 
 something of the kind," cried Mrs. Daw- 
 dle, animated by her indignant ire to an 
 unusual display of energy this evening: 
 " I protest, therefore, I believe in future 
 I shall take tickets, without coming to 
 any thing, of the kind again." 
 
 " Laws, mother ! and I'm sure I hope 
 not," said one of her eternally-smiling 
 daughters, with the most Audrey-like 
 tone and look imaginable, " for I'm sure 
 it's vastly amusing to see such strange 
 people — don't you think so, Essy ?" 
 
 " Dear, how odd you are, Lizzy !" re- 
 plied the other young lady, with a similar 
 simper — " you ask such droll questions !"
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 157 
 
 This, however, was a very unmerited 
 accusation, for any thing like drollery was 
 a very great stranger to the Dawdles. 
 
 " I vow I believe I shall unite in the 
 resolution with you," said Mrs. M 'Snip- 
 well, the wife of a counsellor, who owed 
 his origin to a knight of the sheers, but 
 which circumstance, in consideration of 
 the fortune his industrious sire, by dint of 
 good custom and perseverance, was enabled 
 to leave him, was overlooked, except when 
 now and then a boisterous and arrogant 
 pretension to wit and consequence dis- 
 gusted sufficiently to occasion a recurrence 
 to past times. This, however, was seldom 
 the case in D ; for, provided the ele- 
 gant and enlightened beings who com- 
 posed the first class there were convinced 
 there was fortune to support arrogance, 
 pone could be more submissive to it. 
 
 " Lord ! what signifies ?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Shandy, the self-satisfied and important 
 wife of a vulgar attorney, who, wanting 
 practice elsewhere, had come to D ,
 
 158 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 where, by dint of entertaining, he so com- 
 pletely succeeded in inducing the people 
 of D to believe him a man of conse- 
 quence, that, spite of vulgar manners, vul- 
 gar person, and bad education, he obtained 
 a wife, and business sufficient to at length 
 enable him to realize the fortune he had 
 at first only pretended to from motives of 
 policy — " 'tis really gratifying to see new 
 faces;" an assertion no one would have 
 wondered at, if acquainted with those she 
 was in the habit of contemplating. 
 
 But indignation at the appearance of 
 Mrs. Beaumont and her party in the ball- 
 room was not the only sensation excited. 
 Envy, of the most malignant nature, was 
 excited by the beauty and appearance al- 
 together of Albina, such as rendered those 
 who experienced it delighted at having 
 what, they conceived a fair pretext for try- 
 ing to mortify and expose her to scorn. 
 But as a very contrary sensation to envy 
 was the one, it must be supposed, she in- 
 spired in the other sex, it may create sur-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 159 
 
 prise that from them she received no no- 
 tice or attention. The fact was, the beaux 
 
 of D , like the ladies, saw no charms 
 
 where they thought there was no conse- 
 quence; and as to the few officers that 
 figured away on this night in the room, 
 they had been taught to set too high a 
 value on their attentions to throw them 
 away on a person pronounced by every 
 one to be nobody; so that, had she in 
 reality been what she was styled, she could 
 not have been less regarded. 
 
 At length Mrs. Softly, the neighbour- 
 ing rector's wife, thought proper to ad- 
 vance to pay her compliments, fearful, if 
 she continued to play shy, as she had done 
 at the commencement of the evening, she 
 might lose, in a degree, that universal cha- 
 racter for amiability she had obtained. 
 She approached with her usual fixed smile, 
 said her usual nothings with the same air 
 of interest, and was beginning to re-estab- 
 lish herself in the good graces of Mrs. 
 Beaumont, when, unfortunately, her son
 
 160 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY\ 
 
 coming up to inquire, in a whisper — but 
 a whisper which Mrs. Beaumont perfectly 
 distinguished — whether he should not now 
 ask Albina to dance ? She replied decided- 
 ly in the negative, saying Miss M'Snip- 
 well was just disengaged; thus proving, 
 beyond a doubt, that whatever her pro- 
 fessions were, they were not the dictates 
 of sincerity. 
 
 At last, vexed, mortified, disappointed, 
 beyond language to express, Mrs. Beau- 
 mont and her party took themselves off. 
 Tears of vexation, in spite of her efforts 
 to suppress them, burst from Albina at 
 the evening she had passed, so very dif- 
 ferent from what she had expected it would 
 be, both from the reflection of her glass, 
 and the flattery of her companions. What 
 could be the reason of the neglect she had 
 experienced ? Exclusive of personal at- 
 tractions, her general appearance, she was 
 aware, was such as to have entitled her to 
 attention. 
 
 But the mystery was soon solved, when,
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 161 
 
 in the course of a day or two after, the 
 kind of treatment they had experienced 
 slipped out from Mrs. Beaumont in confi- 
 dential chat with a friend. Mrs. Owens 
 assured her it was entirely owing to their 
 having gone with Mrs. Cobbs, now, for 
 the first time, entering into an explana- 
 tion of the particularity of the people at 
 
 D . 
 
 Mrs. Beaumont rated her for not hav- 
 ing done this before ; and from scolding 
 her, she began to scold at poor Mrs. Cobbs, 
 protesting it was extremely stupid of the 
 poor woman not to avow the real cause of 
 the disinclination she had evinced to go 
 to the ball, and which, she now saw, was 
 owing to her being one of the proscribed, 
 choosing to forget, that from her husband 
 having also been in business, she was one 
 of these herself. Nothing but an unwill- 
 ingness to let him know the mortification 
 she had incurred, by acting contrary to 
 his wishes, which were expressly against 
 her going to the ball, prevented her inv
 
 162 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 mediately breaking with those she had 
 hitherto been in habits of intimacy with. 
 But though she did not choose to evince 
 it in this manner, her resentment conti- 
 nued unabated ; and to have an opportu- 
 nity of yet retaliating on them for their 
 rudeness and illiberality was one of her 
 most ardent wishes. 
 
 She was in this frame of mind when 
 Fidelia became the inmate of her dwell- 
 ing ; but the envy with which she regard- 
 ed her was a stranger to the bosom of Al- 
 bina, who was not one of those characters 
 that could hear " sighs from another with 
 unwounded ear." Far from desiring to 
 eclipse, she did every thing in her power 
 to set off her beloved companion. 
 
 Fidelia was just beginning to feel her- 
 self truly domesticated, when Mrs. Beau- 
 mont was surprised one morning by a visit 
 from lady Caroline Ayrcourt, a married 
 niece of the earl of Fitzossory, who, with 
 her mother, the countess dowager De Belle- 
 mont, had come over from England to
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 163 
 
 pass some time at his lordship's seat, Rock 
 Fort, in the neighbourhood. She was a 
 gay, beautiful, young woman of fashion, 
 and nothing could possibly have been less 
 expected by Mrs. Beaumont than the ho- 
 nour she now did her, as she had not an 
 idea that she was even known by name to 
 her ladyship. How she came to be so, 
 lady Caroline did not think proper to ex- 
 plain : all she said was, that there was a 
 ball about to be given at Rock Fort, and 
 that she had been deputed to select all the 
 -beauty, elegance, and fashion of the neigh- 
 bourhood for it, and had accordingly 
 turned her steps to Mrs. Beaumont's.—" So, 
 remember, ma'am," she added, " you will 
 positively be expected, with your grand- 
 daughter, or granddaughters, for I believe 
 you have some other young person with 
 you?" 
 
 " Oh yes !" with generous eagerness, re- 
 plied Albina, who happened, just at the 
 moment of her ladyship's arrival, to come 
 in from the cliffs for a book, where she
 
 164 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 had left Fidelia collecting sea-weeds for 
 some landscapes they were forming of 
 them, " there is a young friend residing 
 with us." 
 
 " Well, you and your young friend," 
 said her ladyship, smiling ; " but, upon 
 my word, if she resembles you, however 
 lord Fitzossory may thank me for having 
 secured such ornaments for his assembly 
 (from the effect their presence there is 
 likely to produce), I don't know whether 
 his male visitors will have reason to do so." 
 
 She then hastily bade them adieu, leav- 
 ing behind her a most pleasing impression. 
 
 Mrs. Beaumont was all rapture. How 
 flattering, how transporting, to be invited 
 to Rock Fort — invited, too, in so particular 
 a manner ! What a prospect did it open of 
 enabling her to triumph over the odious, 
 the illiberal, the detested inhabitants of 
 D ! With what contempt did this sud- 
 den elation now make her look down upon 
 those she had lately been wishing to shine 
 amongst ! But she had indeed heard many
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 165 
 
 anecdotes and particulars concerning them 
 from her confidential friend, Mrs. Owens, 
 that had considerably lessened the idea she 
 had once entertained of their consequence, 
 and with it her wish for their notice. 
 
 Fidelia was quickly called in to share 
 in the delight of her friend. — " We must 
 begin immediately to prepare dresses for 
 the occasion," cried Albina. " I have al- 
 ready fixed on them : mine shall be a blue 
 sarsnet, with a coronet of white roses — 
 yours shall be white satin, trimmed with 
 silver, with the pearl ornaments in your 
 hair grandmamma purchased for me." 
 
 Fidelia laughed. — "White satin and 
 silver trimmings for me ! Why, my dear 
 girl, I believe you are going to play the 
 part of Cinderella's godmother. Pray, have 
 you a pair of glass slippers also at your 
 command ?" 
 
 " You may well laugh, indeed, or con- 
 clude Albina is turning you into ridicule," 
 said Mrs. Beaumont, in a vexed tone. 
 
 « No — that I never can conclude," cried
 
 166 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 Fidelia, throwing her arm round Albina's 
 neck, and fondly kissing her forehead: 
 " 'tis her too great love for me that in- 
 duces her to forget what is strictly proper. 
 If I go to this ball, and I confess I delight 
 to think I shall, my garb must be a simple 
 muslin." % 
 
 " In fixing on such a dress," said Albina, 
 in her turn laughing, " do you not, Fide- 
 lia, recollect those beautiful lines of Ben 
 Jon son's we so much admired the other- 
 day ? 
 
 " Give me a look, give me a face, 
 That makes simplicity a grace ; 
 Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : 
 Such sweet neglect more taketh me, 
 Than all the adulteries of art — 
 They strike mine eyes, but not my heart." 
 
 The point was not settled when Mr. 
 Beaumont made his appearance ; and on 
 hearing what had occurred, testified scarce- 
 ly less pleasure than the rest of the party, 
 though not exactly from the same motives. 
 The fact was, it was with the family of
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 167 
 
 Fitzossory that Mr. Dundonald was con- 
 nected by marriage ; and could an interest 
 be awakened in them for Albina, he con- 
 ceived such a circumstance might be a 
 means of obtaining for him the accom- 
 plishment of his long-cherished wishes— 
 namely, to have justice done to the me- 
 mory of his daughter by Mr. Dundonald, 
 on which, notwithstanding all his precau- 
 tions, he had reason to fear a stigma here 
 and there affixed. 
 
 A few miles from the dwelling of Mr. 
 Beaumont, on a wild and romantic part of 
 the coast, near the entrance of the mag- 
 nificent harbour of D , and facing the 
 
 beacon-light on the opposite coast, stood 
 the rude old towers of Rock Fort, well 
 calculated, from their antiquity and still- 
 formidable aspect, to arrest the wandering 
 eye of curiosity. One or two of them were 
 ascribed to the Danes, while the others 
 were so almost equally discoloured and in- 
 dented by the devouring cormorant, Time, 
 that, but to the nice eye of an antiquary,
 
 168 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 their origin appeared as ancient. The 
 connecting buildings were evidently more 
 modern, but from this circumstance form- 
 ing altogether a heterogeneous kind of 
 pile, massive and irregular, but certainly 
 extremely picturesque, backed as it was 
 by trees and thickets, spreading far over 
 the fantastic cliffs, and accordingly, per- 
 haps, better harmonizing with the scenery 
 around, than one of more recent date or 
 regular construction. 
 
 Time immemorial this ancient pile had 
 been in possession of the lords of Fitz- 
 ossory, and here, under the immediate eye 
 of his grandfather, the presumptive heir 
 to their ancient honours, Rodolph Morven, 
 was principally brought up. By superin- 
 tending his early education himself, his 
 grandfather trusted he should yet see him 
 advocating the cause of his countrymen, 
 oppressed in his idea, and gradually lead- 
 ing to that emancipation that would per- 
 mit those whom worldly policy had tempt- 
 ed to apostatize from the faith of their
 
 THE MUNSTEll COTTAGE BOY. 169 
 
 ancestors to quiet their consciences by re- 
 turning to it. The most bigoted of men 
 to every national prejudice, and implacably 
 resentful of political injuries, whether real 
 or imaginary, he could not bear reflecting 
 on the alienation of the properties of the 
 old Irish families, or the restrictions im- 
 posed on account of religion. These sen- 
 timents he took no pains to disguise ; on 
 the contrary, there was a kind of impru- 
 dent openness, or rather defying boldness, 
 in his character, that made him ever eager 
 to disclose what he thought; and many 
 were the fears his friends had once enter- 
 tained of his involving himself in some 
 unpleasant predicament. This, however, 
 he had sufficient discretion to avoid, not 
 so much from personal considerations, as 
 on account of his darling Rodolph, lest his 
 giving way to the impulses of a turbulent 
 spirit should in any manner turn out to 
 his injury. 
 
 Chiefly brought up amidst scenes that 
 early invited to energy and enterprise, and 
 
 VOL. i. i
 
 170 THE MTJNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 accustomed to stimulating recitals of va- 
 lour and heroism, Rodolph grew up with 
 a predilection for a military life, which, on 
 completing his collegiate education, he was 
 allowed to indulge. His pleasure at the 
 accedance his wishes met with was height- 
 ened by the hope it held out (freeing him, 
 as it did, from the immediate observance 
 of his grandfather) of enabling him at 
 length to follow the dictates of his heart, 
 long yearning towards other ties — that 
 kind, that affectionate heart, replete with 
 every noble, every generous feeling. 
 
 Lord Fitzossory, in railing against po- 
 litical policy, what he termed arbitrary 
 restraints on feelings and principles, forgot, 
 as we all are very apt to do, that what he 
 condemned in others he was himself prac- 
 tising. Though naturally frank and ge- 
 nerous, he had for several years suffered 
 selfish fears and motives to warp him from 
 his natural integrity. But to explain the 
 cause of this, it is necessary we retrograde 
 a little.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 171 
 
 Of a numerous offspring, lady Eva Mor- 
 ven was the only survivor, a circumstance 
 that doubtless rendered her still dearer to 
 her parents. She was about seventeen 
 when she lost her mother, an event that 
 so deeply affected her, as to render change 
 of scene advisable. Accordingly her a- 
 larmed father took her to Bath, where his 
 sister, the countess De Bellemont, was 
 then residing, and where, by dint of per- 
 severing attentions, and the progressive 
 influence of time, she gradually became 
 sufficiently recovered, at length occasion- 
 ally to mix in the gaieties of the place. 
 
 Fair, innocent, and unassuming — heiress 
 to an ancient title and considerable estate, 
 it is not to be supposed she wanted ad- 
 mirers. 
 
 Amongst those who felt or feigned a 
 flame, was a Mr. Grandison, a gentleman 
 of high fashion, pleasing exterior, and cap- 
 tivating manners. The passion she in- 
 spired him with was of the most ardent 
 i 2
 
 172 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 nature, such as, independently of all 
 worldly considerations, would have in- 
 duced him to solicit her hand; though 
 undoubtedly a fortune almost inextricably 
 involved, through a long course of dissi- 
 pation, rendered these considerations not 
 to be overlooked. But had he been pos- 
 sessor of the first title and fortune in the 
 kingdom, the circumstance of his being 
 an Englishman would have been sufficient 
 to have induced the earl to disdain his ad- 
 dresses. Among his deep-rooted preju- 
 dices was one to England. In the cha- 
 racter of an Irishman, all that was great, 
 noble, generous, he conceived comprised; 
 and to an Irishman he had long and firmly 
 decided she should alone give her hand. 
 
 Lady Eva was fond of her own country, 
 but not so blindly partial as- not to be 
 able to see a great deal to admire in an- 
 other. In this the gay and handsome 
 Grandison was included — a circumstance 
 she had not address to conceal from the
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 173 
 
 earl, and which so alarmed him, as to oc- 
 N casion a total prohibition to all further in- 
 tercourse between them. 
 
 In consequence, the attentions of Gran- 
 dison became discontinued in public, but 
 only to be renewed where there was no 
 restraint upon them. The earl thought 
 himself guarded on every side ; but Gran- 
 dison was too enterprising to be easily de- 
 terred from any favourite pursuit. Like 
 the enamoured Romeo, he found means 
 of surmounting the difficulties thrown in 
 the way of his access to his mistress — a 
 mistress too young, romantic, and impas- 
 sioned, not to be delighted with this mode 
 of making love. Walls scaled, and dan- 
 gers braved for her sake, was an idea on 
 which she could not help dwelling with 
 pleasure ; nor did she know how to wish 
 a courtship terminated, carried on in so 
 delightfully agitating a manner. 
 
 The ardent and impetuous Grandison, 
 however, could not long remain content 
 with mere permission to breathe a world
 
 174 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 of sighs beneath her window, and wish 
 himself a glove upon her hand, that he 
 might touch her cheek. The constant risk 
 they ran of being surprised, and of course 
 separated, was urged with such persuasive 
 eloquence, as at length to have the effect 
 of inducing the equally timid and roman- 
 tic Eva to consent to an elopement. 
 
 The rage of the earl at this may be ea- 
 sier conceived than described : every hope 
 seemed in a moment annihilated — the hope 
 he had long indulged of his wealth and 
 consequence centering in his own country. 
 Had she allied herself to one of the wild- 
 est — the most untutored of her own coun- 
 trymen, he felt persuaded he could sooner 
 have forgiven her, than for her marriage 
 with an Englishman — a selfish cold-heart- 
 ed Englishman: — that was unpardonable: 
 and cursing the hour in which he had ex- 
 posed her to the temptation of disobeying 
 him, he returned to Rock Fort, heartily 
 wishing those who had instigated him to 
 leave it, to the devil.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 175 
 
 On their return from the shrine of the 
 Northern Hymen, no time was lost in so- 
 liciting forgiveness by the runaways, to 
 their utter mortification and disappoint- 
 ment, however, without avail, lady Eva 
 having assured herself, that though the 
 earl's consent to her marriage with Gran- 
 dison could not be obtained, yet once so- 
 lemnized, and his forgiveness readily would. 
 Trusting, however, they should yet find 
 him more exorable, they set out for Lon- 
 don, where the debut of lady Eva was 
 marked by the utmost splendor ; nothing, 
 indeed, could exceed the style in which 
 they set out, and for a time none were 
 more talked of or caressed in the fashion- 
 able world; but for their celebrity in this 
 they soon dearly paid, involved as the pro- 
 perty of Grandison previously was. 
 
 He had flattered himself that the well- 
 known expectations of lady Eva would 
 have prevented any thing unpleasant oc- 
 curring from the extravagance into which 
 he now launched; but he soon found him-
 
 176 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 self wofully mistaken: her expectations 
 were certainly very well understood ; but 
 as it was equally so, that not one of these 
 was to a certainty, and that to appearance 
 she had irreconcilably offended her father, 
 these did not by any means prove suffi- 
 ciently satisfactory to stop the importuni- 
 ties of impertinent creditors. 
 
 Absolute distress at length impelled 
 lady Eva to apply again to the paternal 
 heart for pardon. Her Rodolph was 7 born 
 about this period, and she trusted the an- 
 nouncement of his birth would have a 
 happy effect on the feelings of the earl. 
 She was mistaken, however, as it had no 
 other than that of suggesting a scheme 
 that induced him still to appear inexor- 
 able, 
 
 Hurt and alarmed, lady Eva passed an- 
 other year of wretchedness, when despair 
 induced another effort to work upon his 
 feelings, her husband being then in hourly 
 danger of imprisonment. This was the 
 moment the earl had anxiously been anti-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 177 
 
 cipating ; he had set his heart on having 
 his grandson committed to his entire care; 
 and nothing short of ruin, he was con- 
 vinced, could induce the parents to accede 
 to a proposal that must occasion an entire 
 estrangement between them and their 
 child, for within his doors he was deter- 
 mined never to admit the father. 
 
 For the first time, he now noticed the 
 supplications of his daughter, informing 
 her, that on condition she gave up her boy 
 to him, he would relieve her from the dif- 
 ficulties in which a worthless husband had 
 plunged her. 
 
 This, to such a heart as hers, was a hard 
 condition; but there was no alternative 
 between acceding to it, or suffering dis- 
 tress she shrunk from the idea of. Ac- 
 cordingly the little Rodolph was sent over 
 to Rock Fort, and thus for ever taken 
 from the maternal bosom. 
 
 The earl's promise was fulfilled, and for 
 the first time since their marriage she and 
 Grandison found themselves free from em- 
 i 3
 
 178 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 barrassments ; but she was not destined 
 long to enjoy the change in her situation. 
 The anxieties she had suffered had weighed 
 heavily on a constitution naturally delicate, 
 and in less than a year after the relinquish- 
 ment of her boy she was no more. 
 
 A vague intention of yet recalling her 
 to his arms had ever been entertained by 
 the earl; but believing he could do this 
 whenever he pleased, and that the longer 
 he withheld his forgiveness, the more it 
 would be prized when granted, he lin- 
 gered and hesitated, till all opportunity 
 for extending it was over. 
 
 His grief was wild and terrible, height- 
 ened as it was by remorse. He now, when 
 the reflection could be of no use, dwelt 
 with agony on the idea, that never, never 
 but in one instance, and that an excusable 
 one, had his mild, his tender Eva ever of- 
 fended him. 
 
 Oh, what would he not have given — 
 how would he not have humbled himself, 
 to have recovered the opportunity he had
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 179 
 
 lost of assuring her of his forgiveness, and 
 soothing and comforting her last moments ! 
 but remorse was vain — all he could do, in 
 expiation of his conduct, was to vow, if 
 possible, still tenderer care of the treasure 
 she had resigned to him. 
 
 At his express desire, her remains were 
 brought over ; and after lying for a few 
 days in state in the ancient hall, where it 
 seemed as if it had been but the preceding 
 one, so quickly pass away the fleeting 
 moments of our existence, that she had 
 been seen in all the light of beauty, were 
 removed to the family burying-place, a- 
 midst an immense concourse, or, as it was 
 styled, gathering of people. 
 
 The pale chaste light she loved so well, 
 the light of the moon, shed its soft tremu- 
 lous radiance over the solemn scene, form- 
 ing something of that kind of contrast to 
 the red glare of the funeral torches, that her 
 gentle unassuming character did to those 
 it was her lot to be thrown amongst by a 
 thoughtless husband. Like a lovely beam,
 
 180 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 soon had she vanished, leaving in all the 
 grief and darkness of desolation those al- 
 lied with her. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 u Lest men suspect your tale untrue, 
 Keep probability in view." 
 
 The sorrow of the widowed husband was 
 not less than that of the bereaved father, 
 and, like his, aggravated by remorse, con- 
 vinced as he now was, that the anxieties 
 he had been the means of her experiencing 
 had had an injurious effect upon her health. 
 His only consolation during this period of 
 distracting grief, was in conversing of her 
 with a young friend whom chance had 
 brought her acquainted with, and for 
 whom she had conceived such a predilec- 
 tion, as to be induced to invite her to be-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 181 
 
 come an inmate of her house. The bosom 
 of the sorrowing Sophia was her pillow 
 during the last hours of her existence, and 
 till the removal of her remains she watched 
 beside them; she then returned to the 
 protection she had left to become her guest. 
 Hither the steps of Grandison continually 
 wandered, and an attachment gradually 
 took place, that at the end of a year led to 
 their marriage. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the rage of lord 
 Fitzossory at hearing of this : he con- 
 ceived it an insult to the memory of his 
 daughter, for whose sake, notwithstanding 
 the youth of Grandison, and that he was 
 besides entirely deprived of his child, he 
 was unreasonable enough to think he 
 should have remained single. — " But I 
 might have been well aware," he cried, with 
 spiteful anger, ".that, like the rest of his 
 countrymen, he had not warmth of heart 
 sufficient to cherish a lasting remembrance; 
 but never, my blessed Eva, never shall 
 thy angel boy — never shall thy laughing
 
 182 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 Rodolph, be subjected to the tyranny of a 
 cruel stepmother; this event decides me 
 on never allowing the slightest intercourse 
 between him and his unfeeling father." 
 
 But in imagining that by permitting 
 this he would have exposed him to any 
 unkindness, he was utterly mistaken — his 
 own mother would not have more fondly 
 cherished him than her successor. Like 
 her, she was gentle, benevolent, and kind, 
 conscientious in the discharge of every 
 duty, and incapable of any act that could 
 occasion censure from herself or others. 
 
 The prejudices he himself entertained, 
 lord Fitzossory early exerted himself to 
 instil into the mind of his grandson ; but 
 nature pleaded powerfully against their 
 admission. There was something in the 
 name of father that interested and attached 
 his young heart. The brother too he un- 
 derstood he had, he yearned to behold and 
 embrace; but lord Fitzossory could not 
 bear the idea of an indulgence that might 
 in a degree detach him from himself Ac-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 183 
 
 cordingly he left nothing undone that 
 could prevent his soliciting it; and at 
 length, by dint of artful management, so 
 far succeeded, as to occasion Rodolph to 
 feel something like pique and indifference, 
 at the conviction he was led to entertain 
 of being utterly disregarded by those he 
 had been so solicitous about. 
 
 As a means of still further estranging 
 him, he early gave him a companion of 
 his own age, the natural son of a deceased 
 kinsman, whom, partly out of policy, partly 
 compassion, he had adopted. 
 
 But a person more calculated to take 
 advantage of kindness, he could not pos- 
 sibly have introduced into his house than 
 Walter Blaney. Artful, selfish, and un- 
 feeling, he had no study but his own in- 
 terest — no gratification but his own enjoy- 
 ments. He early ascertained the earl's 
 chief inducement for adopting him, and, 
 from selfish motives, did all in his power 
 to second his object in doing so, namely, 
 to attach Rodolph in such a manner as
 
 184 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 should prevent his seeking in a nearer con- 
 nexion for a friend. 
 
 Participating, through the mingled po- 
 licy and generosity of the earl, in all the 
 advantages bestowed on Rodolph, he was 
 likewise informed, when the latter had de- 
 cided on a military life, that a commission 
 should also be purchased for him in the 
 same regiment. 
 
 No sooner did he learn that this was the 
 earl's intention, than he resolved on taking 
 measures for preventing it : for, exclusive 
 of his natural love of luxurious enjoy- 
 ments, he conceived there was extreme 
 folly in any one voluntarily risking their 
 life in any case whatever. If he sought 
 the bubble reputation, he determined it 
 should not be at the cannon's mouth ; be- 
 sides, he conceived it would be very bad 
 policy indeed to quit the Castle at the 
 time when the absence of Rodolph might 
 not only allow of his strengthening his own 
 interest with the earl, but also perhaps of 
 undermining his. Accordingly, soon after
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 185 
 
 the earl's generous intention relative to 
 him was announced, for which nothing 
 could exceed his gratitude and joy, he got 
 a terrible as well as unseen fall, that occa- 
 sioned a lameness, which the surgeon he 
 chose to have to attend him declared he 
 thought it possible he might never get the 
 better of: of course, all idea of his then en- 
 tering into the army was abandoned ; but 
 not to sink in one place while he rose in 
 another, or gain ground here while he lost 
 it there, he resolved on trying to prevent 
 any intercourse between Rodolph and his 
 family when he quitted Ireland, lest the 
 attachment that might take place between 
 him and his brother might weaken his 
 own interest with him. 
 
 The confidence which the unsuspicious 
 Rodolph reposed in him gave him an oppor- 
 tunity of forming a regular plan for the pur- 
 pose. Though hurt at what he conceived 
 their neglect and indifference, evinced by 
 no inquiry of theirs concerning him ever 
 reaching his ear, yet imbued with every
 
 186 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 dutiful and affectionate feeling, he confessed 
 to Walter it was his intention to introduce 
 himself to them on going to England, 
 could he ascertain their residence ; for the 
 purpose of trying to learn which, he de- 
 sired him to employ a friend of his, then 
 in London, at the Temple. 
 
 Walter readily undertook what he de- 
 sired. Corney, the young student alluded 
 to, was his bosom friend ; and through his 
 instructions, in due course of time, wrote 
 a letter, well calculated to make Rodolph 
 believe those he sought after unworthy of 
 his notice. 
 
 After a little previous matter, to render 
 what followed more plausible, it thus went 
 on. — " And now, my dear fellow, having 
 told you all the chit-chat of the circles I 
 move in here, and which, thanks to the 
 introductory letters of my friends at the 
 other side, are not of the most inferior de- 
 scription, I hasten to inform you of my 
 having succeeded in obtaining you some 
 information of the Grandison family,
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 187 
 
 through means of my friend, Miss Dash- 
 away, who, as Sancho Panza says, knows 
 but every one. She informs me, that Mr. 
 Grandison has been most ridiculously ex- 
 travagant; but that it is now rather the 
 general belief he would make an effort to 
 retrench, but for the pride, vanity, and 
 dissipated turn of his wife and son, who 
 make their knowledge of his connexions 
 through his first marriage an excuse for 
 their conduct ; and indeed it is confidently 
 said, that in order to try and force him to 
 apply to these, and thus be furnished with 
 fresh supplies for their extravagance, they 
 have purposely created embarrassments, 
 by appropriating to other uses than were 
 intended, or rather to securing private re- 
 sources for themselves, a considerable part 
 of his property. Whether all this is really 
 correct, I am not competent to decide; 
 this however I will venture to say, from 
 my own personal observations, that the 
 son is one of the greatest dashers about 
 town — a buck of the first order on the pav6
 
 188 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 in Bond-street — a noted amateur in the 
 pugilistic art — a famous member of the 
 four-in-hand club — a leader of every fa- 
 shionable row in public — and a practised 
 adept in all the mysteries of play." 
 
 Unsuspicious of any deceit, Rodolph 
 could not deny credence to what he now 
 heard, and grievous were his consequent 
 feelings ; for fondly had he cherished, not- 
 withstanding transient fits of pique and 
 resentment, the hope of rinding, in so near 
 a relative, one worthy of being his friend. 
 But at his period of life, was not a hope to 
 be entertained of yet being won from his 
 follies and his errors — of the example and 
 precepts of one of his own age exciting 
 him to their conquest? Yes, the first 
 burst of his sorrowing and indignant feel- 
 ings over, he thought it probable ; and ac- 
 cordingly, as he revealed it to Walter, de- 
 cided on the trial, should nothing in the 
 interim occur to induce a greater belief of 
 his unworthiness. 
 
 Ere the shock inflicted by the account
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 189 
 
 received of him had well subsided, a letter, 
 to his utter surprise, was received from 
 him, imploring him, if he had any regard 
 for his father, immediately to transmit to 
 him, Hastings, for his use (for without his 
 privity, owing to the delicacy of his feel- 
 ings, he averred his writing), the sum of 
 seven hundred pounds, the amount of a 
 debt due to a clamorous tradesman, whose 
 name, with other particulars, he gave him. 
 For some time after the perusal of this 
 ' letter, Rodolph hesitated how to act; 
 then blushing at the idea of distrusting a 
 brother — of thinking him, notwithstand- 
 ing what he had previously heard, capable 
 of the meanness of premeditated imposi- 
 tion, he determined on running every risk 
 to comply with his request. Any thing 
 like the sum required he had not at his 
 command* and knew that without a re- 
 currence to falsehood, he could not obtain 
 it from his grandfather. To Walter, there- 
 fore, he applied on the subject, and* through 
 his exertions, at last obtained it. Buc
 
 190 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 scarcely was it remitted, ere some expres- 
 sions, apparently dropped without thought 
 by Walter, occasioned such uneasiness, as 
 induced him to desire he would again em- 
 ploy Corney in making inquiries. 
 
 This he accordingly feigned to do ; and 
 the result was, that as he, Walter, had de- 
 sired, he had seen Mr. Sparkle on Mr. 
 Grandison's affair, who, in reply to his 
 questions, informed him he had the pre- 
 ceding day taken unpleasant measures for 
 the recovery of his debt, instigated to them 
 by seeing his puppy of a son dashing 
 through Bond-street in a new curricle of 
 the most expensive description. Sparkle 
 further added, these measures had in a de- 
 gree occasioned him to be satisfied, Mr. 
 Grandison having immediately insisted on 
 his lady's returning some very expensive 
 ornaments which she had obtained with- 
 out consulting him ; and in consequence 
 of her giving them up, the writ was with- 
 drawn. — " How the blade," Corney went 
 on, " continues to dash about in the man-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 191 
 
 ner he does, considering the apparent in- 
 volvements of the father, is a wonder. 
 Wonders of this nature, however, are com- 
 mon here. Many suspect the mamma has 
 accumulated a private purse, or cares not 
 how they act, from still relying on the 
 connexions by the first marriage. Be this 
 as it may, without vanity, I believe Mr. 
 Hastings Grandison might style himself a 
 good financier." 
 
 " A good financier, indeed !" cried Ro- 
 dolph, as he indignantly threw the letter 
 from him. " He must be a little cleverer, 
 however, than he is, to raise the supplies 
 his extravagance may need again, as he 
 has done the last. No — if after this I were 
 to allow myself to attend to any represen- 
 tations of his on the subject, I should have 
 to accuse myself of reprehensible weakness 
 — of tacitly encouraging vice and false- 
 hood." 
 
 But how insupportable to think, that 
 there where his affections turned, he could 
 only distrust and condemn. Unable to
 
 192 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 endure the thought, he quickly decided 
 on addressing a letter to him on his con- 
 duct, which, that he might be sure of 
 reaching its destination, was forwarded to 
 Corney for delivery. 
 
 In due time an answer through the 
 same channel was received, in which the 
 supposed writer, instead of denying the 
 trick played upon Rodolph, with the great- 
 est effrontery acknowledged it, protesting 
 that nothing but his utter inability to ob- 
 tain from old Squaretoes the supply of 
 the needful just then requisite, should have 
 induced him to it. — " But, curse me/' he 
 added, " if I could do any longer without 
 a new curricle ! for my last, like an old al- 
 manack, was quite out of date, being more 
 than a year old, and no longer fit for any 
 thing, but some whimsical tourist like 
 Syntax, to penetrate into the bowels of 
 the land in, in search of the picturesque. 
 But rely on it, my dear fellow, that the 
 first handsome sum dad comes down with, 
 or a lucky hit of the dice, throws into my
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 193 
 
 pocket, shall be appropriated to the dis- 
 charge of the obligation. But, to be can- 
 did, if Fortune does not prove kinder than 
 the old gentleman is likely to do, I fear 
 some time must elapse ere I can refund ; 
 for curse me if he's not grown quite mi- 
 serly ! whatever generosity he might have 
 possessed certainly evaporated in the days 
 of his youth. Preaching — preaching — 
 preaching — I wonder he is not tired of his 
 own prosing ; may I be shot if I would 
 not almost as soon be distanced at New- 
 market as listen to him! Entre nous, 
 however, I think a turn for sermonizing 
 runs in our family — your letter to wit, 
 which is certainly a morceau of its kind, 
 coming from an Irish lad too. Oh then, 
 faith ! and it's myself will be after shewing 
 it yet to the old gentleman, x o give him 
 the consolation of knowing he has not two 
 sons graceless alike. By-the-bye, I under- 
 stand your neighbourhood is famed for 
 pretty girls and good shooting : faith ! one 
 of these days, I think I shall take a sail 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 over to you, for I am devilish fond of start- 
 ing coveys of the former at least ; though 
 perhaps you allow no trespassing on your 
 manor ; well, nous verrons, and so at pre- 
 sent, receiving every requisite fraternal as- 
 surance, believe me yours." 
 
 The mingled levity and effrontery of 
 this fabrication excited feelings of indigna- 
 tion, that were with difficulty suppressed ; 
 but of what avail to give utterance to them, 
 except to provoke further proofs from the 
 supposed writer of a mind insensible of 
 shame, and callous to reproof? Alike dis- 
 gusted and incensed, all previous wish for 
 a personal knowledge of him was relin- 
 quished, to the overthrow of a thousand 
 fond anticipations of happiness and plea- 
 sure he had indulged of his being asso- 
 ciated with him in the career of glory. 
 
 In this career he himself rapidly ad- 
 vanced — more, if possible, than fulfilling 
 the expectations of his idolizing grandfa- 
 ther ; and at length, loaded with honours 
 bravely won, returned, after a long course
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 195 
 
 of services on the Continent, to Rock Fort, 
 improved in every manly grace, and alto- 
 gether one of that kind of beings which the 
 eye could not see without admiring — the 
 heart know without loving. 
 
 Such was the family, and such the par- 
 ticulars of it, that the Beaumonts were so 
 delighted at the idea of being noticed by. 
 A sister of the late countess of Fitzossory 
 was the lady to whom Mr. Dundonald had 
 been first allied ; and from the consequent 
 connexion between the respective families, 
 they conceived it might yet prove highly 
 advantageous to Albina to have an inte- 
 rest experienced for her by that of Rock 
 Fort. 
 
 A visit from Mrs. Owens completed the 
 exultation of Mrs. Beaumont at the invi- 
 tation. This was a lady who, paving very 
 few concerns of her own to attend to, was 
 extremely mindful of those of others, and 
 whose means for enjoyment not by any 
 means equalling her inclination, made her 
 assiduous in trying to recommend herself 
 k 2
 
 196 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 to the good graces of others. A happy 
 flexibility of disposition rendered her pret- 
 ty successful in efforts for this purpose. 
 She possessed the happy art of making 
 people pleased with themselves, was al- 
 ways inclined to render herself useful, and, 
 in short, managed matters so well, that 
 she was seldom obliged to sit down to a 
 solitary dinner. She had early attracted 
 the notice of Mrs. Beaumont ; and by de- 
 grees a confidential intercourse was esta- 
 blished between them, that gave her a per- 
 fect insight into the character of the latter. 
 She now came, brim-full of intelligence, 
 from a house where lady Caroline had also 
 just called. She entered with that self- 
 complacent air that always indicated her 
 having something pleasant to communi- 
 cate — what this was she did not long con- 
 ceal. Lady Caroline had positively de- 
 clared, it was by the express desire of co- 
 lonel Morven that she had called to in- 
 vite them to the approaching ball — " So 
 we may easily divine what has occurred,"
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 197 
 
 she added, with a significant smile and 
 glance at Albina. 
 
 " Bless me," said Mrs. Beaumont, per- 
 fectly comprehending this glance, and co- 
 louring with pleasure, " where can he have 
 seen her? Do you recollect, my dear 
 child," turning to Albina, " having met 
 him any where?" 
 
 Albina replied in the negative; at the 
 same time pretending to think the insi- 
 nuation of Mrs. Owens was only to be 
 laughed at ; but that, in spite of her little 
 finesse to conceal it, it afforded her plea- 
 sure, her smiles and blushes plainly de- 
 monstrated. 
 
 If Mrs. Beaumont had previously de- 
 cided on giving her every advantage of 
 dress, how still more determined was she 
 now on the measure ! and to add to her 
 satisfaction, Mr. Beaumont attempted not 
 on this occasion to restrict her, charging 
 her, however, in bespeaking what she 
 wished for Albina, not to forget what was 
 requisite for Fidelia, at the idea of having
 
 198 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 seen whom to advantage, his generous 
 heart expanded. 
 
 To let her be seen in any manner on 
 this occasion was not, however, the inten- 
 tion of Mrs. Beaumont. She was too 
 lovely to let her bear the idea. With all 
 her partiality for Albina, she feared beside 
 her she might be overlooked by some. But 
 how could she avoid taking her, expressly 
 invited as she had been, and intent as both 
 Mr. Beaumont and Albina were on her 
 going. At last she thought she had hit 
 upon a plan ; and accordingly contriving 
 the next morning to get the rest of the 
 family out of the way for some time, she 
 proceeded to tell her, that she hoped what 
 she was going to say to her would not hurt 
 her feelings ; but that it was in order to 
 save them in reality from being shocked, 
 that she had decided on speaking to her 
 as she now intended. She then explicitly 
 told her, that, unconnected as she was with 
 any one, or rather suspected to be the off- 
 spring of Caty Cavan, she could not ap-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 199 
 
 pear in public without exposing herself to 
 a thousand cruel taunts and mortifications. 
 — " But as neither Mr. Beaumont nor Al- 
 bina," she artfully added, " would hearken 
 to any suggestions of mine on the subject, 
 and, out of mistaken good-nature, insisted 
 on my silence to you on it, I must expect 
 that whatever your determination may be. 
 from what I have said, you do not let it 
 be surmised that it is owing to any thing 
 you have heard from me." 
 
 Fidelia solemnly promised observance 
 of this admonition, but not without being* 
 cruelly shocked by what she had heard. 
 Was she then regarded in so equivocal a 
 light, that she could not with propriety 
 or regard to her own feelings enter society? 
 But she could not doubt the assertions of 
 Mrs. Beaumont, and consequently decided, 
 from pride and delicacy, on keeping her- 
 self retired. But the promise she had 
 made to Mrs. Beaumont placed her in a 
 very awkward predicament ; her positive 
 refusal to be one of the party to Rock
 
 200 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 Fort, after the pleasure she had previously 
 evinced at the idea, without assigning any 
 reason for this refusal, occasioning not only 
 surprise, but also displeasure in the minds 
 of Mr. Beaumont and Albina. 
 
 What she, however, was restricted from 
 giving, an explanation on the subject, Mrs. 
 Beaumont herself thought proper to give. 
 She took an opportunity of telling her 
 husband and Albina, that Fidelia had in 
 confidence imparted to her her unwilling- 
 ness, upon reflection, to go to Rock Fort, 
 being entirely owing to a fear, from the 
 mystery of her birth, of being exposed to 
 unpleasant slights in company, and which 
 fear had accordingly induced her to decide 
 on never accepting any invitation in which 
 she might be included with them. 
 
 Neither could hearken with patience to 
 this resolution, and would immediately 
 have set about arguing her out of it, as 
 one highly ridiculous, but for Mrs. Beau- 
 mont's assurance of having given her a so- 
 lemn promise not to disclose what she had
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 201 
 
 told her ; and that, of course, if informed 
 of her promise being broken, she would 
 never place confidence in her again. In 
 short, her artful manoeuvre succeeded ; and 
 to the equal disappointment of the young 
 friends, they were compelled to relinquish 
 the pleasure they had looked forward to 
 enjoying together at Rock Fort. 
 
 But selfish regrets could not prevent 
 Fidelia from doing every thing in her 
 power to set off Albina to the best advan- 
 tage this evening; and such was her fond 
 and anxious solicitude about her, as she 
 assisted at her toilet, that Mrs. Beaumont 
 could not help experiencing something like 
 remorse for her deception to her. 
 
 Mr. Beaumont was too anxious about 
 the events of this evening, not early to 
 have decided on making one to the Castle, 
 and accordingly Fidelia was left entirely 
 to her own reflections. These were me- 
 lancholy enough; full of life and spirits, 
 all the natural gaiety and animation of 
 youth, she could not but feel dejected at 
 K3
 
 202 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 v the idea of being perhaps compelled to se- 
 clude herself from society, through the 
 mystery of her birth. But that this was 
 of the nature alluded to by Mrs. Beau- 
 mont, she could not for a moment admit. 
 She loved her nurse sincerely; but still 
 she shrunk from the idea of considering 
 herself her child, aware, if she was, that 
 she must be the child of infamy. She 
 could not recall any thing to her recollec- 
 tion — any hint, any circumstance that 
 could warrant the supposition; but if it 
 was credited by others, of how little con- 
 sequence its not being so by herself, ex- 
 cept as far as her own immediate feelings 
 were concerned ? 
 
 How to come at the truth she knew 
 not, unable, as she had yet been, notwith- 
 standing her minute and persevering in- 
 quiries on the subject in the neighbour- 
 hood, to ascertain the part of America to 
 which her nurse had emigrated; she began 
 to fear, however, that let it be disclosed 
 when it would, she should find herself
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 203 
 
 disappointed in the romantic idea she had 
 sometimes yielded to, of yet finding her- 
 self the " hope of some house thought 
 past hope." 
 
 Weary of conjectures, she at length 
 strolled out towards the cliffs, whence the 
 moon, rising majestically over the magni- 
 ficent bay, presented a spectacle of beauty 
 and sublimity that fixed her attention. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Beneath a shade 
 
 I sat me down, more heavily oppress'd, 
 More desolate at heart, than e'er I felt 
 Before." 
 
 From her contemplative attitude she was 
 roused by a low feigned cough behind her, 
 as of some one wishing thus to give her 
 intimation of their approach, in order to 
 prevent her being startled by their sudden
 
 204 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 appearance. She immediately turned, and 
 in the tall majestic figure she beheld ap- 
 proaching, fancied she recognized Grandi- 
 son. His emerging from the deep shadow 
 of the cliffs, along the foot of which he 
 was advancing at the moment, quickly al- 
 lowed her to see she was not mistaken. 
 
 In the surprise and confusion of this un- 
 expected meeting, she made an involun- 
 tary movement towards the house, when, 
 starting forward, he caught her hand, and 
 in a tone at once beseeching and reproach- 
 ful, demanded, was she then going to shun 
 him, after all the anxiety — the impatience 
 he had felt to see her again ? — " The alarm, 
 the dread, the disappointment," he added, 
 in still more animated terms, " I expe- 
 rienced this evening, when your friends 
 entered lord Fitzossory's without you, lest 
 any thing unpleasant had happened ; for 
 I knew," looking more earnestly in her 
 face, " that you were invited." 
 
 " Yes, certainly," Fidelia faintly, and in 
 much confusion, replied ; " but "
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 205 
 
 " May I then," he rejoined, with ear- 
 nestness, after waiting a moment to try 
 whether she would proceed, " without be- 
 ing deemed impertinent, entreat to know 
 why you declined the invitation? Yet, 
 after all, lest I should incur, notwithstand- 
 ing my precautions, the imputation I de- 
 precate, instead of pressing this inquiry, I 
 will remain satisfied with urging you to 
 accompany your friends to Rock Fort the 
 next time they go thither. I am anxious 
 — I am solicitous on the subject, not 
 merely for the sake of seeing and convers- 
 ing with you, but in order to obtain that 
 introduction to you which I am aware 
 propriety demands, and the want of which 
 alone prevented my sooner seeking the 
 pleasure I now enjoy." 
 n Agitated and confused, both by his lan- 
 guage and his manner, Fidelia had scarcely 
 power to articulate the acknowledgments 
 her heart dictated for his solicitude about 
 her. To leave a gay and brilliant assembly 
 on her account, merely to satisfy his anx-
 
 206 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 iety concerning her, oh, what gratitude 
 did this demand ! But the promise he re- 
 quired, she would not, could not give; 
 shrinking more than ever, as she now did, 
 from the humiliations it might be a means 
 of subjecting her to, since he now would 
 be a witness to them. 
 
 Her refusal, however, was so hesitating 
 as to give him every hope of yet becoming 
 a successful suppliant ; and he was begin- 
 ning to give utterance to the delight im- 
 parted by the idea, when the voice of Mrs. 
 Owens was heard from the house, calling 
 upon Fidelia. 
 
 By way of being a little good-natured, 
 Mrs. Beaumont had invited her to come 
 and spend the evening with her. Having 
 a pleasanter way of passing the evening 
 than in a tete-a-tete with Fidelia, who nei- 
 ther loved scandal nor played piquet, she 
 declined drinking tea with her; but no 
 supper being given where she had spent 
 the early part of the evening, she had now 
 come to take that repast with her, Mrs.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 207 
 
 Beaumont having told her she had pro- 
 vided some fine lobsters for it. 
 
 Fidelia's companion started on hearing 
 her voice, and instantly telling her he 
 would no longer detain her, resigned the 
 hand he had continued to hold, with a soft 
 pressure of it to his lips, and bidding her 
 farewell, with an injunction to remember, 
 quickly disappeared amongst the cliffs. 
 
 Remember! oh, could she ever forget 
 the feelings she experienced at the idea of 
 having inspired an interest in so generous 
 a breast; how soothing, how delightful, 
 to find she had not offended him, as she 
 had often feared, by her abrupt departure 
 from Judy's. Frequently since then had 
 she been disquieted by an apprehension of 
 this — an apprehension aggravated by be- 
 ing unable to reveal it to others ; for as in 
 the particulars she gave the Beaumonts, 
 she had either been too agitated, or deemed 
 it unnecessary to mention him, she could 
 not bring herself afterwards to introduce 
 his name, lest her concealment in the first
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 instance might be considered strange. But 
 urging her, as he had done, to visit at 
 Rock Fort, how could she disappoint him 
 without at length offending him? But 
 perhaps Mrs. Beaumont might be at length 
 inclined to think she might venture into 
 company without incurring the risk of any 
 thing unpleasant. 
 
 Her spirits were in too tumultuous a 
 state to allow of her retiring to repose be- 
 fore the return of the party ; or rather she 
 was too solicitous to make certain inqui- 
 ries, to be able to think of doing so. 
 
 Occupying one apartment with Albina, 
 she was able to gratify herself by these the 
 moment of her returning. 
 
 The ball was every thing that was de 
 lightful, Albina said; but in the list of 
 beaux she enumerated, the name of Gran- 
 dison did not escape her lips ; slightly in- 
 deed she dwelt on all but colonel Morven 
 — on him she dwelt with all the rapture 
 of admiration and the pleasure of gratified 
 vanity and pride. He had selected her in
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 209 
 
 the most marked, the most particular man- 
 ner for several of the dances— sat by her 
 at supper — and paid her altogether the 
 most flattering attentions. 
 
 Fidelia was delighted; and from the 
 strong anxiety now to behold the plainly- 
 supposed conquest of her friend, could not 
 help wishing still more earnestly than be- 
 fore, that Mrs. Beaumont might sanction 
 her going to Rock Fort. 
 
 In the course of two days, she found 
 they were to dine there ; and she accord- 
 ingly lost no time in sounding Mrs. Beau- 
 mont on the subject, hinting the strong 
 anxiety Albina had for her company thi- 
 ther. 
 
 " Oh, she doesn't know why it is not 
 proper for her to be gratified," returned 
 Mrs. Beaumont. " However, Miss Haw- 
 thorn," she pettishly added, " if you have 
 made up your mind to go, I am sure I 
 shan't prevent you. I hope, however, we 
 shan't hear any murmurs or complaints
 
 210 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 about any thing unpleasant you may meet 
 with in consequence." 
 
 Fidelia sighed deeply, and gave up the 
 point. No, she would not subject herself 
 to scorn and contempt — she would not run 
 the risk of being lessened in the estima- 
 tion of Grandison, by exposing herself to 
 humiliations before him. But not with- 
 out the deepest regret and reluctance did 
 she now see the party depart to Rock 
 Fort without her— now that she knew she 
 should there have seen him — now that she 
 was aware of his expecting her there. 
 
 She tried to divert her thoughts from 
 disagreeable contemplations by work — by 
 reading, but nothing would do ; and when 
 the duskiness of evening prevented her 
 still trying these resources, she strolled 
 out in her usual direction towards the 
 cliffs. 
 
 The moon was again risen over the bay, 
 silvering with inimitable beauty its rocks 
 and cliffs, and restoring to sight many a
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 211 
 
 rude headland and shaded cave, which the 
 fall of night had partially obscured. The 
 low murmur of the rippling tide below, 
 united to the mildness of the scene around, 
 had a soothing effect upon her mind. Yet 
 still again a thought of Grandison would 
 return r and involuntarily her eyes became 
 directed to the spot where she had seen 
 him a few nights before. She started ; for, 
 leaning against the cliff, she thought she 
 saw a figure moving. 
 
 For a few minutes she had not power 
 to stir; then determined to ascertain whe- 
 ther or not she was mistaken, she advanced 
 towards it, and shrieked with surprise, 
 when, on drawing close to it, having by 
 that time persuaded herself there was no 
 one there, from no one coming forward to 
 meet her, she saw Grandison attentively 
 observing her. 
 
 " I have alarmed you, I fear," he said, 
 as he came forward. 
 
 " Alarmed !" she involuntarily repeated.
 
 212 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 " Yes, seeing you here was so unexpect- 
 ed." 
 
 " Had it been expected, I believe I may 
 conclude that I should not have been fa- 
 voured with this opportunity of speaking 
 to you. I have reason to imagine so, 
 after your so studiously declining the op- 
 portunity I implored you to afford of be- 
 ing properly introduced to you." 
 
 " Not studiously," cried Fidelia, hurt, 
 from previous recollections, by the re- 
 proachfulness of his present tone. 
 
 " Had you not then the power of going 
 to Rock Fort?" he eagerly demanded; 
 then, as if recollecting himself — " Par- 
 don," he added, " the abruptness of this 
 question, nor impute to any idle or un- 
 worthy motive any inquiry that may es- 
 cape me. I have long wished to be con- 
 sidered by you in the light of a privileged 
 acquaintance, and, of course, am naturally 
 anxious to know what .prevents my ob- 
 taining that pleasure. This day I fully
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 213 
 
 expected to have done so ; it is needless, 
 therefore, to say what my disappointment 
 was when again I saw your friends enter 
 the Castle without you." 
 
 Fidelia could not do otherwise than feel 
 gratitude for this strong anxiety. While 
 she was hesitating how to express herself, 
 Grandison, taking her trembling hand, 
 tried to prevail on her to make amends for 
 his recent disappointments, by promising 
 to accompany her friends to a party at 
 Rock Fort, to which they were to be in- 
 vited the day after the next. 
 
 She drew back, however; and on his 
 becoming still more urgent, burst into 
 tears. — " I require no entreaty," she said, 
 " to do what I wish ; but circumstances 
 " She paused for a minute, then try- 
 ing to collect herself — " I must presume, 
 sir," she said, " from those under which 
 you met me a short time ago, that you 
 must be aware my situation is not one of 
 
 entire independence — that " Again 
 
 she paused, irresolute and embarrassed
 
 214 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 how to proceed ; fearful of being explicit, 
 lest of being deemed indiscreet, yet anx- 
 ious to say something that might convince 
 him of her wish to oblige him. 
 
 With the most profound earnestness he 
 listened to her, as if expecting some inte- 
 resting communication. Finding she did 
 not proceed, after waiting a minute for 
 her to go on, he was on the point of say- 
 ing something beseechingly to her, when 
 a low rustling was heard, as of some lurk- 
 ing near them. Fidelia instantly snatched 
 away her hand. 
 
 " A few words more I implore," he 
 cried. 
 
 "No, no; some other time," she said; 
 and evading the attempt he made to de- 
 tain her, she fled to the house, terrified at 
 the idea of being seen with him, from the 
 silence she had hitherto observed respect- 
 ing him. She now bitterly regretted that 
 silence, liable as she saw she was to meet 
 him continually ; and accordingly, after a 
 little consideration, resolved on mention-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 215 
 
 ing him to her friends : but in doing so, 
 must she not be perfectly explicit? and 
 might not the caution she had received 
 concerning him be thought more entitled 
 to attention by them than it had by her, 
 from their not having similar opportunities 
 of observing him ? 
 
 That very day she had taken out the 
 letter that contained it, and she now put 
 her hand in her pocket to give it another 
 perusal; but it was not there, and after 
 some little search and consideration, it 
 suddenly occurred to her, that when pull- 
 ing out her handkerchief, wiiilst speaking 
 to him, she had drawn it out. Exceed- 
 ingly unwilling it should fall into strange 
 hands, she no sooner thought it probable 
 he was gone, than taking a little servant- 
 girl with her, she proceeded to search for 
 it; but it was not to be found : and all she 
 could hope was, as a means of assuaging 
 the uneasiness excited by the circumstance, 
 that it had been blown into the sea. 
 
 Again she sat up for the Beaumonts —
 
 216 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 agitation and curiosity were again too 
 strongly excited to permit her, at the usual 
 hour, to think of calm repose. 
 
 Albina returned, if possible, more ele- 
 vated in spirits and expectations than on 
 her preceding visit to lord Fitzossory's — 
 again representing colonel Morven as all 
 that was attentive and interesting. 
 
 " And was there no one of the party 
 that could at all come in competition with 
 him?" asked Fidelia, half shunning her 
 eyes, from a consciousness at the moment, 
 by pretending to be busied in undressing 
 herself. 
 
 " Oh, not one," Albina replied. 
 
 " Come, let me be convinced," said Fi- 
 delia ; " as I have seen some of the beaux 
 in the neighbourhood, you shall run over 
 the names of those present to-day, that I 
 may know whether your opinion is one I 
 can subscribe to." 
 
 " Very well," returned Albina, " I will 
 play the part of Nerissa, animadverting 
 and descanting upon the merits and pre-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 217 
 
 tensions of the various beaux, as I call 
 them, over to you. So to begin," and she 
 went through a long list, but again with- 
 out mentioning the name of Grandison. 
 
 Fidelia became more than surprised — a 
 dullness crept through her veins. Good 
 Heavens ! had she then been the dupe of 
 a credulous imagination, or had an attempt 
 rather been made to render her so ? Had 
 Grandison been present, his name must, 
 she conceived, have been remembered, 
 distinguished as he was for graces and at- 
 tractions, for manly beauty and unequal- 
 led elegance, that rendered it impossible, 
 in her opinion, that he could be over- 
 looked. 
 
 Whilst musing on the subject, a sudden 
 exclamation from Albina, on finding some- 
 thing belonging to her in her ridicule, 
 raised her from her reverie. — " Bless me !" 
 Albina cried, " how did this come here ?" 
 and she presented to her view the iden- 
 tical letter she had been searching for. 
 She had not taken it from her trunk till 
 
 VOL, I. L
 
 218 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 after Albina's departure for Rock Fort, 
 and was therefore positive that it was not 
 through any mistake of hers it had got 
 there. The immediate conclusion was, 
 that Grandison had picked it up, and find- 
 ing it addressed to her, had taken this 
 method of effecting its restoration. He 
 was then, after all, notwithstanding her 
 recently-suggested doubts on the subject, 
 of the party at Rock Fort; but how 
 strange, with such pretensions to unsoli- 
 cited notice, that he should have been 
 overlooked ! 
 
 All seemed mystery, and again she fell 
 into a deep reverie, from which Albina again 
 raised her, by laughingly protesting she 
 believed she was secretly conning over the 
 merits of the different beaux she had men- 
 tioned to her, in order to be prepared whom 
 to encourage or discourage, as they were 
 severally introduced to her, which, she 
 trusted, would be the case the day after the 
 next, by her at length accompanying them 
 to Rock Fort, w r here they were again en-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 219 
 
 gaged to spend the day. He was then 
 even no casual visitor or slight acquaint- 
 ance there ; for still he had mentioned the 
 engagements he knew about taking place. 
 But what appeared at present unaccount- 
 able, she trusted would soon be explained, 
 again deciding on making another effort 
 to be of the party to the approaching en- 
 tertainment at Rock Fort. 
 
 Whilst at breakfast the next morning, 
 she was surprised by Mr. Beaumont sud- 
 denly asking her, with, she conceived, a 
 particular significance of look, whether she 
 had ever been in company with colonel 
 Morven ? 
 
 She promptly replied in the negative, 
 and the subject instantly dropped. 
 
 In the course of the day she decided on 
 commencing the one she had determined 
 on introducing ; but something still occur- 
 red to prevent her; visitors upon visitors 
 came pouring in. 
 
 The appearance of Albina at lord Fitz- 
 ossory's, an object of p^ticular attention 
 L 2
 
 220 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 and admiration to the noble family there, 
 had occasioned a complete revolution in 
 her favour amongst the good folks of 
 
 D . Mrs. Dawdle, Mrs. M'Snipwell, 
 
 and Mrs. Shandy, the high leaders of fa- 
 shion there, with their respective coteries, 
 all agreed that it would now be the right 
 and proper thing to pay her attention ; her 
 being noticed at Rock Fort being a con- 
 vincing proof that she and her connexions 
 must be somebody. Accordingly, every 
 gig, tilbury, and jaunting car, in their 
 possession, was put in requisition, and away, 
 in gay but scattered procession, they rode, 
 trotted, and gambolled to Cooleamere, ac- 
 cording to the various inclinations and 
 abilities of their several horses; where, 
 neither forgetting nor forgiving, Mrs. 
 Beaumont received them with supercilious 
 politeness, enjoying not a little the tri- 
 umph thus afforded her over them; and 
 to their astonishment (their opinion of 
 tUair own consequence making them be- 
 lieve that there was no one but what would
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. £21 
 
 be flattered by their notice), distantly 
 hinted, in reply to their pressing invita- 
 tions to their respective houses, she was 
 more anxious for a select than a numerous 
 acquaintance for her granddaughter ; and, 
 indeed, exclusive of her disliking them, 
 she was now extremely indifferent about 
 them, having by this time ascertained that 
 very few of them had greater pretensions 
 to consequence than what they derived 
 from a shewily-furnished house, often too 
 large for their real means, and superabun- 
 dant entertainments. Gentle lineage was, 
 in her eyes, of considerable consequence; 
 
 and as few in D could now boast of 
 
 this, she looked upon them, with her high 
 northern notions, as the very trumpery of 
 society. 
 
 The next day was that for the party to 
 Rock Fort, and again the anxious Fidelia 
 sounded Mrs. Beaumont on the subject of 
 her going thither, but without receiving 
 the desired encouragement ; on the con*
 
 222 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 trary, fearful lest her appearing there might 
 in any way be detrimental to Albina, Mrs. 
 Beaumont fairly told her, that with her 
 consent she never should do so. 
 
 Nothing, she determined, should tempt 
 her out this evening; after what had twice 
 occurred, to suffer herself to do so would 
 be, she conceived* to appear purposely 
 throwing herself in the way of Grandison, 
 and thus seem tacitly to encourage meet- 
 ings that had quite too much the air of 
 clandestine ones to seem proper to her. 
 But the restraint she imposed upon herself 
 rendered her restless and unhappy. She 
 was resolute, however, but felt her impa- 
 tience for the return of Albina heightened 
 to even painfulness, by the hope she en- 
 tertained of enabling her to solve the mys- 
 tery relative to Grandison, and ascertain 
 whether there was reason to imagine he 
 had been on the watch for her that even- 
 ing. But again was she disappointed — 
 the name of Grandison still continued a
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. Q23 
 
 stranger to the lips of Albina, and more 
 than ever was Fidelia perplexed and un- 
 decided. 
 
 But from herself her thoughts were soon 
 abstracted by the information received 
 from Albina — colonel Morven had re- 
 quested a private audience of her grand- 
 father the ensuing morning, and but to 
 one motive could the request be imputed. 
 — " But I am sure I never dreamt of such 
 a thing — that is," with a blush of plea- 
 sure, she added, " so immediately. Oh, 
 Fidelia ! when you see him, you will be 
 charmed with him, nor wonder at my 
 quick partiality." 
 
 The curiosity of Fidelia, however, was 
 not immediately to be satisfied. — Mrs. 
 Beaumont conceived it but decorous for 
 herself and her granddaughter to be out 
 of the way the next morning when he 
 called, and, of course, Fidelia was con- 
 fined to the room to which they had re- 
 tired. 
 
 His visit was not long. On his depart-
 
 224 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ing, instead of eagerly, joyfully joining 
 them, as they expected, Mr. Beaumont 
 merely sent a message, desiring his wife 
 and granddaughter to come down to him 
 by themselves. 
 
 Fidelia took up a book on their quitting 
 her, but had not been long engaged read- 
 ing, when she was disturbed by what 
 seemed to her an hysterical sobbing in the 
 room under her. She directly started up, 
 and flying down stairs, attempted to open 
 the door, but it resisted her effort. She 
 was repeating it, when Mr. Beaumont, 
 suddenly opening it, came out, and in- 
 quired, in a tone very unusual with him, 
 whether she wanted any thing? 
 
 She simply stated what had brought 
 her thither. 
 
 " You may return then," he said ; 
 " should your services be wanted, you'll 
 be sent for." 
 
 Then, without satisfying her solicitude, 
 he went back into the parlour, and closed 
 the door.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. Q%6 
 
 Musingly Fidelia reascended the stairs. 
 Never had Mr. Beaumont looked at her, 
 or spoken to her, in such a manner before. 
 Unconscious, however, of aught that could 
 cause him displeasure, she tried to fancy 
 nothing particular was meant either by 
 his look or tone ; but her heart was dis- 
 quieted within her, and after vainly try- 
 ing to resume her employment, tears be- 
 gan to flow. In the happiest state of de- 
 pendence, then, there was something un- 
 pleasant, some caprice or unkindness to 
 be apprehended. 
 
 She was not long suffered to indulge 
 her melancholy reflections; in her turn 
 she was now sent for by Mr. Beaumont. 
 To her surprise, on joining him, she found 
 dinner bringing in, but neither Mrs. Beau- 
 ment nor Albina present. Alarmed, she 
 eagerly inquired about them ? 
 
 " They are well," Mr. Beaumont coldly 
 replied, " but gone out to dinner ;" mo- 
 tioning her at the same time to take a seat 
 at the table. 
 
 l3
 
 226 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 She hesitated, however — there was some- 
 thing strange in all this that alarmed her. 
 She turned her eyes upon her companion 
 — he was pale, evidently agitated, and 
 even superciliously distant. — " Pardon me, 
 sir," she said, taking advantage of the ser- 
 vant's being absent at the moment, " but 
 there is something in your look, your man- 
 ner, that leads me to fear I have offended 
 you. Relieve me from my suspense on 
 the subject, I entreat you ; for I cannot 
 think of sitting down to dinner while la- 
 bouring under it" 
 
 " Really ! I advise you, however, to 
 take your dinner first, before I give you 
 the explanation you require, lest other- 
 wise your appetite should be destroyed." 
 
 Fidelia burst into tears, and retreated 
 towards the door. — " I am not mistaken 
 then," she said, " in imagining I have of- 
 fended you. You must excuse my now 
 retiring, sir — when you are at leisure to 
 explain how I have, unwittingly, Heaven
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 227 
 
 knows, incurred your anger, I will gladly 
 return." 
 
 " Cold-hearted, deceitful girl !" cried 
 Mr. Beaumont ; then bidding the servant, 
 who had just re-entered, be gone, he closed 
 the door, and rudely seizing the hand of 
 Fidelia to draw her from it. — " Is it not a 
 guilty conscience, ever easily alarmed, more 
 than my looks, that tells you I am of- 
 fended?" 
 
 Fidelia stared wildly, but without re- 
 plying. 
 
 " You affect surprise," he added; " there- 
 fore I may expect denial ; but it will not 
 avail — there are proofs positive — incontro- 
 vertible, of your duplicity. This roof no 
 longer affords you a shelter. Could I re- 
 gret an act dictated by benevolence, I 
 should regret that it ever had. Mrs. Beau- 
 mont and your abused friend have quitted 
 it, not to return till your departure; you 
 leave it therefore to-morrow ; but on ac- 
 count of your youth, I shall take care, out 
 of Christian charity, to have you safely
 
 228 THE MUNSTEB, COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 conveyed back to those from whose pro- 
 tection you fled, I must now believe un- 
 necessarily, to mine. A married couple, 
 humble neighbours of mine, are on the 
 point of setting off for Cork, to take leave 
 of a relation about sailing thence for Eng- 
 land, and this opportunity I shall embrace 
 to get you conveyed thither." 
 
 And here it is necessary to mention, 
 that the Bryerlys, fearful of being sub- 
 jected to disagreeable animadversions for 
 their conduct to Fidelia, immediately after 
 receiving an expostulatory letter on the 
 subject from Mr. Beaumont, thought pro- 
 per suddenly to quit Strandstown, for the 
 purpose, they said, of returning to Eng- 
 land, but not without trying to vindicate 
 their conduct towards her, in the answer 
 they deemed it requisite to give to this 
 letter. 
 
 " Arrange as you will my departure, sir,' 
 said Fidelia ; " I desire — I wish not to in- 
 trude on your kindness ; but how I have 
 lost it, I must implore to learn. Oh ! do
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 229 
 
 not, I entreat, in mercy, in compassion, 
 persevere any longer in these dark, these 
 mysterious hints, but tell me plainly how 
 I have offended !" 
 
 " You are totally unconscious then — 
 you pretend to deny that you have any 
 knowledge of colonel Morven — that you 
 were carrying on a secret intercourse with 
 him, while the mockery of his attentions 
 was offered to your abused friend ! But I 
 will not explain further — I will not, by 
 entering into particulars, allow you to ima- 
 gine I think you ignorant of the cause of 
 my resentment, and thus permit you to 
 believe that you may deceive me into a 
 conviction of your innocence by artful 
 protestations. I will hearken to no asser- 
 tion, no vindication, when there is a po- 
 sitive proof of guilt; it intimates a wish 
 to be imposed on to enter into arguments 
 on the subject." 
 
 " And is it possible, sir, you can be so 
 decided in condemning me as not to listen 
 to my justification ? You may refuse to
 
 230 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 do so ; but I must nevertheless solemnly 
 protest that never, either towards you or 
 any other person, have I acted unworthily 
 — that colonel Morven I never consciously 
 saw, and that whoever has imposed upon 
 you the belief of my having acted as you 
 accuse me, has done so from the cruellest 
 motive. I repeat I do not seek to be a 
 longer burthen on your humanity — but, 
 oh sir !" bursting into tears, " let not, I 
 implore you, the sorrow of my forlorn si- 
 tuation be aggravated, by having to think 
 I have lost the regard of the only friends 
 I had in the world." 
 
 " You have heard my resolve," said Mr. 
 Beaumont, unmoved by her tears ; " had 
 the wound inflicted by your perfidy been 
 only to my own bosom, I might have par- 
 doned you ; but you have wounded me 
 where I was most vulnerable — in the peace 
 and happiness of my child. Her injuries 
 render me inexorable to your entreaties. 
 Lose no time, therefore, in preparing for 
 your departure ; every thing requisite will
 
 THE MUNSTEU COTTAGE BOY. 231 
 
 be provided for you on the road, and be- 
 fore you sail you will receive a small sum 
 of money for any further incidental ex- 
 pences." 
 
 Then telling her she might either take 
 her dinner where she now was, or, if she 
 pleased, have it in her chamber, he seated 
 himself at the table. 
 
 Dinner ! — how little could the agitated, 
 the bewildered, and cruelly-treated girl 
 think of any thing but the agonizing pre- 
 dicament in which she found herself! A 
 mind of the least pride or integrity may 
 easily conceive what she felt, at the idea of 
 being so falsely, so harshly accused — ac- 
 cused of what rendered her almost abhor- 
 rent in her own eyes to be suspected of. 
 
 The first burst of grief and indignation 
 over, she would have entered upon a writ- 
 ten vindication of herself, but that she 
 was persuaded that nothing of the kind 
 would at present be attended to. She 
 therefore, after some consideration, resolved 
 on deferring this attempt till H might be
 
 232 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOV. 
 
 concluded the present violent irritation 
 against her had, in some degree, subsided ; 
 she then decided on making an appeal to 
 the natural integrity of Mr. Beaumont, 
 and by representing to him the injury he 
 did her in condemning her unheard, haply 
 induce him to do her that justice he now 
 denied her. Who, or for what purpose, 
 she had been maligned to him, she could 
 not imagine. If the obscurity of her si- 
 tuation was such as to keep her out of the 
 way of being an object of flattering atten- 
 tion, she also hoped it was such as would 
 have prevented her being one of envy and 
 malice. 
 
 But if a faint hope of truth and inno- 
 cence yet triumphing over defaming false- 
 hood and malice reanimated a little her 
 dejected spirit, how did it again sink within 
 her at the thought of being again subjected 
 to the tyrannical sway, the cruel tauntings 
 of the Bryerlys ! But must she be exposed 
 to these? She could not attempt to dis- 
 pute the plan settled for her by Mr. Beau-
 
 THE MUNSTEit COTTAGE BOY. 233 
 
 mont ; but again in London, could she not 
 endeavour to make exertions for herself — 
 to turn to some account the abilities and 
 education she was grateful to Providence 
 for having received. 
 
 Floating on the tide of prosperity, we 
 seldom know what we are capable of, be- 
 cause energy or exertion is not then re- 
 quisite ; but in the rude and tempestuous 
 sea of adversity the case is quite the re- 
 verse. Young as she was, circumstances 
 had occurred that had compelled her to 
 fathom her own mind, and she did believe 
 she found an energy and strength within 
 it, that would permit her to profit by any 
 opportunity that might occur for leading 
 her towards independence. On seeking 
 this, therefore, she decided, as soon as she 
 had the power, with a humble hope, yet 
 at the same time firm belief, that by 
 perseveringly doing her own part, and 
 still relying upon Heaven, she should be 
 secure of its divine protection through 
 all the mazy paths of life, and aid and
 
 234 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 assistance in encountering the trials and 
 difficulties incident to her forlorn situa- 
 tion. 
 
 Having recovered some little degree of 
 composure by her arguments with herself, 
 she began to prepare for her departure. In 
 collecting the few articles belonging to her, 
 she recollected some unfinished work she 
 had left in the room where colonel Mor- 
 ven was received in the morning, and ac- 
 cordingly repaired thither for it. On en- 
 tering she was surprised to find several 
 sheets of written paper scattered about it. 
 Mechanically almost she picked them up, 
 and seeing them paged, was almost as me- 
 chanically sorting them, when Mr. Beau- 
 mont suddenly entered, and with fury 
 flashing from his eyes, tore them from her. 
 — " What !" he demanded, " is this the 
 way you are preparing for your journey — 
 trying to pry into family secrets ?" 
 
 Fidelia attempted to vindicate herself, 
 but he would not hearken to her. 
 
 " Begone, girl !" he cried ; " begone P
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 235 
 
 with increasing passion ; " your sight is 
 hateful to me, from the meanness as well 
 as perfidy I now see you capable of; 
 and w T hen once assured of your safe arri- 
 val at your destination, I trust 'tis the last 
 time I shall ever hear any thing of the (T 
 now believe) spurious offspring of Mrs. 
 Caty Cavan." 
 
 With a feeling of terror she had never 
 before experienced, Fidelia withdrew. — 
 " Good God ! of what injustice does infu- 
 riate passion render us guilty !" She has- 
 tily finished her packing, and at the first 
 glimpse of day, started from the bed, on 
 which she had merely thrown herself to 
 watch for the arrival of the vehicle that 
 was to convey her from a house she had 
 now a dread of being in. 
 
 She was not long kept waiting — Mur- 
 togh and his wife soon appeared with their 
 car, and hastily joining them, she bid a 
 silent and sorrowful adieu to the spot she 
 considered her native, one. Some time 
 elapsed ere she could in any degree shake
 
 S36 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 off the benumbing dejection that had 
 seized her. At length, fearing she might 
 affront her companions if she remained in- 
 flexibly silent, she forced herself to answer 
 now and then the remarks they made re- 
 specting their journey. 
 
 Her attention was at length attracted 
 by a man on horseback following the car 
 at a distance. His figure resembled Peck- 
 ham's ; but a large flapped hat and high 
 collar drawn up so entirely concealed his 
 face, that it was impossible for her to as- 
 certain whether or not it was he. Her 
 heart palpitated from the uncertainty, but 
 she strove to compose herself, by thinking 
 that even if it was, she need not now fear 
 any annoyance. Still, however, her eyes 
 were rivetted on him till tljey reached the 
 place where they were to breakfast. 
 
 Tea and eggs were Mrs. Murtogh's or- 
 der ; and while she and Fidelia went into 
 an inner room to take their repast, Mur- 
 togh staid without in the kitchen, to par- 
 take of a coarser and more substantial one.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 237 
 
 While Mrs. Murtogh was making tea, 
 Fidelia went to the window, and happen- 
 ing to lean against it for a minute, saw 
 Murtogh hastily coming out of the house, 
 followed by the man already alluded to, 
 and whose hat being now a little raised, 
 discovered to her the features of Peckham. 
 They were in earnest discourse, and walked 
 away in a contrary direction to the win- 
 dow, evidently, it seemed to her, in order 
 to avoid being overheard or interrupted. 
 
 Again she became startled, but again 
 tried to collect herself, by reflecting she 
 had nothing now to dread from Peckham, 
 since no longer in the power of those who 
 were ready to second his views and wishes. 
 After all, too, their conversation might not 
 be about her; and even if it were, it might 
 be solely owing to curiosity on the part of 
 Peckham. She hesitated for a little, whe- 
 ther she should mention her recognition 
 of him, and at length decided to say no- 
 thing of him, except he was mentioned 
 to- her.
 
 238 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 This was not the case ; the journey was 
 resumed without seeing him again, or hear- 
 ing any thing about him. They stopped 
 again in the course of the day two or three 
 times for refreshment, and towards night 
 reached the place where they were to sleep. 
 
 In the morning, previously to her no- 
 ticing Peckham, she had been told that 
 the place where they were to bait for the 
 night was a very considerable village ; she 
 was therefore surprised when, on stop- 
 ping at it, she found it was a lone house. 
 With some anxiety she inquired the rea- 
 son of this — an anxiety heightened by 
 recollecting that more than once she had 
 thought Murtogh deviated from the usual 
 track. They quieted her, however, by 
 their readily answering that it was be- 
 cause they feared, upon second thoughts, 
 the horse would not be able to go much 
 farther that night, as must be the case 
 if they persevered in their original inten- 
 tion. 
 
 The supper Fidelia chose to have was
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 239 
 
 soon over, and immediately after she with- 
 drew to rest. Disturbed as was her mind, 
 she was yet too much overpowered by 
 agitation and fatigue not to be soon asleep. 
 From deep repose she was startled by 
 some undefined kind of noise. How long 
 she had slept she knew not, but mistaking 
 bright moonlight for daylight, she con- 
 cluded some time; and immediately upon 
 this, making up her mind that the noise 
 she had heard was Mrs. Murtegh knock- 
 ing at her door to wake her, she directly 
 got up, and having dressed herself, sallied 
 forth to join her fellow-travellers. The 
 miserable little room she occupied was 
 divided from the sitting one by a long clay 
 passage, infinitely better ventilated than 
 even count Rumford would have advised. 
 As she was advancing through this, she 
 was confirmed in the supposition that had 
 made her rise, by plainly distinguishing 
 the voices of Murtogh and his wife, and 
 accordingly was fearlessly proceeding,when
 
 240 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 the nasal tones of Peckham suddenly- 
 struck her ear. 
 
 She started, and involuntarily recoiled ; 
 then again, almost mechanically, went on, 
 impelled by a resistless wish to know what 
 they were about. A friendly chink in the 
 door at the extremity of the passage al- 
 lowed her to see perfectly into the room 
 it opened into. The party there consisted 
 of her fellow-travellers, Peckham, a ruf- 
 fianly-looking man habited as a priest, 
 and the woman of the house, compared 
 with whom even the repulsive Judy was 
 amiable in feature. Far from there being 
 any appearance of preparation for setting 
 out, they were all seated in deep conver- 
 sation, round a table strewed over with 
 mugs, bottles, and pipes. She did not long 
 remain a stranger to the subject they were 
 conversing on — a few minutes sufficed to 
 let her ascertain that a plot was formed 
 against her — that the priest she saw was 
 brought there for the purpose of making
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 241 
 
 her Peckham's — and that they were then 
 thinking of calling her up, in order to drag 
 her out to her intended fate. 
 
 For an instant her heart fainted within 
 her, then recollecting that nothing but 
 the promptest exertion could probably 
 save her from destruction, she strove to 
 rally her spirits, and softly stepping back 
 to her chamber, secured the door as well 
 as she could ; and then forcing open a small 
 window, which she had noticed the pre- 
 ceding night, looking over an open tract 
 of country, she made her way through it, 
 nor paused till she had got to some dis- 
 tance. Then stopping to see which way 
 she should go, she beheld open fields be- 
 fore her at one side, and on the other a 
 mountain stream, with woods rising be- 
 yond it. 
 
 Hither she bent her steps, as here, she 
 thought, she should be likely to obtain 
 shelter, which, owing to the light, was 
 absolutely essential. She had not wan- 
 dered many paces along the bank, when 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 she perceived some stepping-stones; she 
 took advantage of them to cross immedi- 
 ately to the other side, and plunging 
 amidst the deepest of the shades, hurried 
 on, in spite of briars, brambles, and innu- 
 merable other impediments, till she had 
 got, as she conceived, to some distance 
 from the scene of danger. 
 
 By this time she had discovered her 
 mistake respecting the light, and accord- 
 ingly knowing it would be useless at pre- 
 sent to seek the shelter of a dwelling, 
 she began to look about her for some 
 spot in which she might rest till day- 
 light. In looking about for this she sud- 
 denly espied a low building amidst the 
 trees. It was of singular construction ; 
 and after a momentary contemplation, led 
 to believe it one of those ornamental 
 buildings that are often scattered through 
 domains, she ventured to it, and softly 
 unlatching the arched door, found herself 
 within a rustic hut, thickly lined with 
 moss, and furnished with matted benches.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 243 
 
 Here then she resolved on passing the time 
 that must intervene till she could obtain 
 shelter elsewhere. Accordingly she tried 
 to secure the door, but there was no bolt. 
 She tried to hope and believe, however, 
 that to this sequestered spot she should 
 not be pursued. A slight shower soon after 
 came on ; and as the rain beat against the 
 little casements of the hut, and the wind 
 howled through the trees, she trembled 
 with apprehension, from mistaking its 
 sound, more than once, for that of pur- 
 suit. 
 
 Night however Wore away without any 
 real cause for terror, and at length she 
 heard the first twitter of the birds an- 
 nouncing the hour she was so impatien- 
 for, with a transport of joy and gratitude, 
 that made her sink upon her knees, to re- 
 turn thanks to Heaven for her escape from 
 the snare that had been spread for her. 
 Her plan was to seek for shelter in the 
 nearest village, and thenoe write to Mr. 
 Beaumont, to acquaint him with what had 
 m2
 
 244 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 happened, and implore protection from 
 him till she had quitted the kingdom. 
 
 After sitting quiet a little time longer, 
 she began to think she might then ven- 
 ture out with safety, and accordingly set 
 abbut re-adjusting her appearance, which 
 the flight of the night had a good deal 
 discomposed. She had just taken off her 
 bonnet and pelisse for the purpose, when 
 she heard steps approaching the hut. In- 
 stinctively she sprung to the door, and 
 placed herself against it to prevent its 
 being opened ; but the surprise occasioned 
 by its resistance rendered abortive her at- 
 tempt to keep it closed. It was pushed 
 with a violence that drove her from it, and 
 a lady, past the period of youth, in deep 
 mourning, entered. 
 
 If embarrassment was great on one side, 
 equally so was^surprise on the other, the 
 appearance of Fidelia altogether being 
 such as to excite astonishment, how she 
 coukl ; possiblv have come into such a si- 
 tter torn garme" f ?. her dishe-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 245 
 
 veiled hair, and hands lacerated by the 
 breaks through which she had been com- 
 pelled to force her way, implied. 
 
 " Good Heavens !" the lady exclaimed, 
 after the silence of a minute, " what has 
 happened ?" 
 
 Fidelia clasped her hands — " Oh, ma- 
 dam!" she cried, deep blushes suffusing 
 the cheek which terror and fatigue had 
 previously rendered pale, " I wonder not 
 at the surprise you manifest ; yet scarcely 
 do I know how to account for what has 
 excited it, so improbable perhaps may 
 seem my relation. Good God!" she ex- 
 claimed, in an agony of tears, " how am 
 I distressed and confused !" 
 
 " Compose yourself," said the lady, " and 
 whatever it may be, relate the truth ; per- 
 haps I may have the power of serving you* 
 and if I have reason to think you candid, 
 I shall be happy to exert it." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Fidelia tried to collect 
 herself, and briefly related the occurrence 
 that had thrown her into the embarrass-
 
 246 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ment and predicament in which she now 
 found herself. 
 
 The lady heard her with deep attention. 
 When she had concluded, she told her she 
 should accompany her to her mansion, 
 and remain under her protection till she 
 had apprised her friends of what had hap- 
 pened, and measures were taken for en- 
 suring her safety the remainder of her 
 journey, giving her then to understand 
 that she was the countess of Castle Der- 
 mot, and the place where they were her 
 seat. 
 
 The gratitude of Fidelia was inexpress- 
 ible ; but such was its effect on her feel- 
 ings, that some time elapsed ere she 
 was sufficiently recovered from an hys- 
 terical burst of joy to be able to attend 
 her new protectress. 
 
 At length they issued from the hut, and 
 after a short walk through aromatic plants 
 and stately trees, Fidelia found herself in 
 the magnificent mansion of her ladyship, 
 bearing just sufficient traces of antiquity
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 247 
 
 to render its magnitude more impressive, 
 and on every side surrounded with ro- 
 mantic scenery. 
 
 The housekeeper was immediately sum- 
 moned, and a sufficient explanation being 
 given to satisfy the curiosity of the good 
 woman, Fidelia declining the proposal of 
 retiring to rest, was enabled to change her 
 dress, and then sat down to breakfast with 
 the countess. 
 
 Her ladyship was kind and soothing, 
 and as much as possible Fidelia strove to 
 evince her sense of this, but was scarcely 
 able at times to make any exertion for the 
 purpose, from the bewildering effect of re- 
 cent events upon her mind. 
 
 But though ill equal to the effort, break- 
 fast was no sooner over than she would 
 have commenced her intended letter to 
 Mr. Beaumont, but w T as prevented by the 
 desire expressed by the countess for a 
 more particular account of herself than she 
 had yet given, having as yet only ex- 
 plained to her ladyship the treachery that
 
 248 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 had been the means of introducing her to 
 her knowledge. 
 
 Convinced that she had another motive 
 than mere curiosity for this desire, Fide- 
 lia unhesitatingly complied with it, sup- 
 pressing nothing in her unvarnished tale 
 but the mention of colonel Grandison, as 
 unnecessary to the elucidation of any par- 
 ticulars she gave. 
 
 Lady Castle Dermot appeared highly 
 interested by her story ; as a proof of which, 
 when concluded, she informed her, that 
 should she find it correct, she would will- 
 ingly afford her the protection she so 
 much required, adding, that in order to 
 ascertain the fact, it was her intention to 
 accompany the letter she was about send- 
 ing to her late protector with one from 
 herself, requesting him to satisfy her on 
 the subject. 
 
 Fidelia was all gratitude at this declara- 
 tion ; yet was the joy it afforded her 
 damped by apprehension, when she thought 
 of the manner in which she had parted
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 249 
 
 from Mr. Beaumont. She almost feared the 
 benevolent intentions of her ladyship to- 
 wards her might be prevented; but no — he 
 could not be so cruel ; he could not wish 
 to have the creature he knew from child- 
 hood, from infancy, turned out a wild 
 wanderer on the face of the earth. 
 
 Till the satisfaction she deemed requi- 
 site was obtained, lady Castle Dermot de- 
 cided on keeping Fidelia at a distance ; 
 but she could not look at her — she could 
 not hear her speak without forgetting this 
 resolution ; so that from the strengthen- 
 ing interest she felt for her, Fidelia herself 
 was scarcely more anxious for a favourable 
 answer from Mr. Beaumont than was her 
 ladyship herself, in order to have a pretext 
 for retaining her with her. 
 
 Lady Castle Dermot was a proof that 
 the means of happiness, without certain 
 feelings and dispositions, will not afford it. 
 Naturally of a turn to delight in indul- 
 gence, and render it necessary in a de- 
 gree, and early accustomed to find herself 
 m 3
 
 250 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 regarded as a primary object, she gradu- 
 ally conceived a dislike to all society but 
 that in which she was sure of meeting 
 with all that attention and tenderness so 
 essential to her. 
 
 Ignorant of her motive for this dislike 
 — flattered and delighted by what he con- 
 ceived, in an age so dissipated, her extraor- 
 dinary preference of the domestic circle, 
 the attachment of her lord gradually be- 
 came almost idolatry, till at length his ten- 
 derness formed a paradise around her, that 
 rendered her forgetful almost of all but 
 him who constituted it. The slightest in- 
 trusion on her domestic bliss was insupport- 
 able to her ; and in order to prevent it, 
 gradually estranging herself from friends 
 and connexions, when at length her lord 
 was unexpectedly snatched from her, she 
 found herself almost an isolated being. 
 
 How bitterly now, from her consequent 
 feeling of forlornness, did she regret the in- 
 dulgence she had given to her selfish propen- 
 sities— to those feelings that had made her
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 251 
 
 shun and disregard all whose attentions 
 she had not immediately required ! but 
 the exertions that might in a degree have 
 remedied the evil she could not force her- 
 self to make. She still shrunk back from 
 mixing where she could not expect to be 
 an object of the first regard — where such 
 doting tenderness as she had long been ac- 
 customed to she should see lavished on 
 others than herself — where the wants, the 
 wishes that had been ever fondly antici- 
 pated, might now be expressed with very 
 little effect ; in short, to satisfy her sickly 
 sensibility, she felt that it would be requi- 
 site again to have some being exclusively 
 devoted to her. But where was this being 
 to be found ? Even her son she could not 
 flatter herself would make her his first con- 
 sideration ; indeed she had seldom derived 
 pleasure from thinking of him, in antici- 
 pating the possibility or rather probability 
 of his being estranged from her by new 
 ties and new connexions. She had earlv
 
 252 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ceased to derive happiness from his idea ; 
 in short, she proved, that where self is 
 permitted to be the centre of ever} 7 wish 
 and thought, it is impossible to be happy. 
 That in a life so liable to chances and 
 changes, it is absolutely requisite to our 
 felicity to cultivate a general feeling of 
 kindness, since those who can identify 
 themselves even in a degree with others — 
 who allow their affections to expand be- 
 yond their own immediate circle — the lit- 
 tle world of their own creating, can never 
 feel themselves entirely forlorn or desti- 
 tute of comfort. 
 
 Yielding to her sickly feelings, instead 
 of courting an illustrious alliance for her 
 son, a thousand times she wished she could 
 find for him some isolated being, who, des- 
 titute of rivalling connexions, she might 
 thus be able to attach to herself, and thus 
 secure to herself the consolation of thinking 
 there was one who would not suffer her to 
 be neglected in sickness, nor unmourned
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 253 
 
 in death ; for not without shuddering could 
 she think of either; but as some excuse 
 for the latter, who, as the poet says — 
 
 " To dumb forget fulness a prey, 
 
 This pleasing anxious being; ere resign'd, 
 
 Left the warm precincts of the cheerful clay, 
 Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind ? 
 
 " On some fond breast the parting soul relies ; 
 
 Some pious drops the closing eye requires : 
 Ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries — 
 
 Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. '' 
 
 Roman tic thought! but if Fidelia proved 
 to be what she represented herself, what de- 
 light should she have in calling her daugh- 
 ter! Here would be a connexion that could 
 excite no apprehension of her son being es- 
 tranged from her — here was a creature so 
 peculiarly situate as to have no nearer 
 friend than herself to look up to, and 
 whom, of course, it was natural to sup- 
 pose she should always have ready to ad- 
 minister to her comforts. 
 
 From the vague idea she began to en- 
 courage, she became more impatient than
 
 254 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ever for the expected answer to her letter 
 concerning her; but the time for it arrived 
 without bringing it, and in consequence she 
 dispatched a courier with another to inquire 
 the reason. He returned with informa- 
 tion of the absence of Mr. Beaumont with 
 his family, at present, from home. His 
 silence thus in her opinion satisfactorily 
 accounted for, she became still more kind, 
 still more condescending to Fidelia, till at 
 length all further reserve was at an end, 
 and she permitted her to be her constant- 
 companion. 
 
 Led, from this conduct, to believe her- 
 self permanently established with her la- 
 dyship, the long-agitated mind of Fidelia 
 regained composure ; and as reeking anx- 
 iety subsided, she was enabled to exert 
 those abilities that rendered her so desir- 
 able for a companion. 
 
 One thing still at times agitated her a 
 little ; that was her dread of lord Castle 
 Dermot's making his appearance, from her 
 discovery of his being lord Killeny. She
 
 THE MTJNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 255 
 
 strove, however, to calm her perturbation, 
 by a hope that if he did come to Wood- 
 lands, the protection he found her under 
 would prevent any impropriety in his con- 
 duct, and in the interim decided on re- 
 maining silent with regard to her know- 
 ledge of him. 
 
 Though residing in a populous neigh- 
 bourhood, her ladyship lived retired ; she 
 cidtivated the acquaintance of but few, and 
 to those few introduced Fidelia, in a man- 
 ner calculated, she conceived, to preclude 
 any further inquiries concerning her. 
 
 A few select guests were expected one 
 evening ; while waiting their arrival, Fi- 
 delia, at the desire of lady Castle Dermot, 
 sat down to the harp. The strain she 
 chose was mournful and low; while sounds, 
 soft as a chanted requiem from a cloister- 
 ed votaress, were stealing from her lips, a 
 slight movement at the door drew her at- 
 tention, and she beheld colonel Grandison 
 standing at it. 
 
 His regiment was now stationed at the
 
 256 ' THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 depot in the neighbouring town, where he 
 had scarcely arrived ere he came to pay 
 his respects to lady Castle Dermot, by 
 whom, as well as her late lord, he was 
 held in such estimation as to render them 
 particularly anxious to have their son 
 under his command. 
 
 At an apparition, as almost it might be 
 called, so unexpected, Fidelia started up ; 
 and scarcely conscious of what she was 
 about, was retreating into an adjoining 
 room, when, springing forward, Grandison 
 caught her hand, and with something like 
 a reproachful exclamation for her attempt- 
 ing to fly him, expressed his surprise and 
 pleasure at beholding her where he did ; 
 then suddenly recollecting himself, turned 
 to address lady Castle Dermot. 
 
 Her ladyship, however, scarcely noticed 
 his inquiries after her health, so impatient 
 was she to know when and how he and 
 Fidelia had become acquainted. — " Pray 
 may I ask ?" she said. 
 
 Grandison looked at Fidelia.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 257 
 
 Blushing deeply, and involuntarily bend- 
 ing her eyes to the ground, Fidelia replied 
 — " At Hastings." 
 
 " Hastings !" repeated the countess. 
 " Why then you saw my son also, lord 
 Killeny?" 
 
 Fidelia acknowledged she had. 
 
 " I wonder you didn't tell me so," she 
 said, with something like a feeling of dis- 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Fidelia excused herself, or rather tried 
 to do so, by saying she did not know 
 that his lordship would recollect her, and 
 therefore did not think that it was neces- 
 sary. 
 
 Still, however, she was not satisfied. 
 Had he awakened any interest in her feel- 
 ings, she could not have forborne, she 
 thought, to mention him; then her evident 
 emotion at the sight of colonel Grandison 
 — his pleasure too at beholding her; in 
 short, she felt disturbed ; the predominant 
 feeling of her nature rendered her jealous 
 and unhappy at the thought of the being
 
 258 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 she wanted to have devoted entirely to 
 herself, having a preferable regard for any 
 other person. 
 
 The arrival of her guests forced her to 
 collect herself, and compelled out of com- 
 plaisance to sit down to cards, Grandison 
 availed himself of her attention being in a 
 degree withdrawn from them, to renew 
 his strong expressions of pleasure at this 
 unexpected meeting with Fidelia, and 
 express how much he had felt from his 
 vain search and inquiries after her on 
 missing her from Cooleamere. 
 
 How flattering to Fidelia to learn that 
 she had been an object of such solicitude 
 to him ! her cheeks glowed at the idea, 
 and never before had a sensation of such 
 exquisite pleasure been experienced by 
 her. Confused, however, by his particula- 
 rity, she wished to prevent its continuance: 
 her efforts in a degree were successful, 
 Grandison himself, from time to time, ob- 
 serving the looks of lady Castle Dermot, 
 not merely with earnestness, but a look
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 25Q 
 
 of louring displeasure, directed towards 
 them ; yet, as he gazed upon Fidelia, with 
 difficulty could he suppress his feelings, so 
 exquisitely lovely did the bright glow of 
 her cheek make her appear. — " Do you 
 recollect," he asked in a half- whisper, as 
 she was busied making tea, " the first ex- 
 pression of Henry the Eighth to Anne 
 Boleyn in the banquet scene at Wolsey's, 
 as described by Shakespeare ? How ap- 
 priate would it now be ft 
 
 " No — the tyrant," replied Fidelia ; but 
 not without a deepening blush that spoke 
 her perfect recollection of the expressions 
 thus alluded to ; "I hate him so much, 
 that I would not strive to recollect any 
 expression of his." 
 
 " Beauty, till now I never saw thee,' 
 was it not ?" asked Miss Otwell, the little 
 simpering daughter of a lady of the party, 
 and who sat at the other side of Fidelia at 
 the tea-table. 
 
 " Exactly," turning his dark, full, ex-
 
 260 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 pressive eyes upon Fidelia, as he answered, 
 with insidious softness. 
 
 Again Fideliamade an effort to check any 
 particularity, and the subjects started for the 
 purpose had at length the desired effect. 
 
 Delighted by their unexpected meeting, 
 Grandison was all himself this evening, 
 and with all his wonted taste and admira- 
 tion, discussed the favourite topics of the 
 day ; while his fair auditor, seen in a new 
 light, freed from those embarrassments that 
 had hitherto impeded any regular conver- 
 sation, proved she had other claims to ad- 
 miration than what youth and beauty give. 
 How delightful to find her mind so culti- 
 vated ! how doubly anxious did it render 
 him to establish the fact of her being the 
 person he supposed ! 
 
 But not long uninterruptedly would 
 the countess permit them to converse. 
 After some time viewing them askance, 
 with something of petulance, she protested 
 she would no longer allow the excuse
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 26l 
 
 pleaded by Grandison for not sitting down 
 to cards, namely, his being in a hurry back 
 to quarters, as it was now evident that 
 was not the case. 
 
 Colouring and laughing-—' 4 Can you 
 wonder that I should forget it ?" he said ; 
 " but, since reminded of it, to vindicate 
 my veracity, I must retire." 
 
 The evening was delightfully fine, and 
 he ventured to propose that the two young 
 ladies, Fidelia and Miss Otwell, attended 
 by a servant to escort them back, should 
 accompany him part of the way he had to 
 proceed through the park. Neither evin- 
 ced any disinclination to the proposal, and 
 Fidelia was quitting the room to get her 
 bonnet, when the countess, in a manner 
 that made her colour with confusion, told 
 her that she did not choose she should go 
 out that evening, as she wanted her, as 
 soon as cards were over, to resume her 
 seat at the harp. 
 
 Looking the disappointment he felt, 
 Grandison, with a half-sigh, took his leave;
 
 c 262 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 while Fidelia, with a starting tear at the 
 proof thus afforded of her being still at the 
 mercy of others, turned mechanically to a 
 window. 
 
 To conciliate and attach her was the ob- 
 ject of the countess. No sooner, therefore, 
 were her visitors gone, whose society she 
 quickly ceased to enjoy, from the manner in 
 which she had been disconcerted by the in- 
 cidents of the evening, than she exerted her- 
 self to dissipate the cloud which the abrupt 
 and pettish way in which she had checked 
 her going out had caused to gather upon the 
 brow of Fidelia ; but her efforts to recom- 
 pense her were rendered abortive by the 
 minuteness with which she interrogated 
 her concerning the progress and length of 
 her acquaintance with Grandison, and the 
 kind of angry and jealous surprise she 
 continued to manifest at her never having 
 mentioned her son. 
 
 The subject was renewed in the morn- 
 ing, and gradually she slid from it into a 
 long dissertation on the unhappiness often
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 26$ 
 
 occasioned by permitting the affections to 
 be early engaged, and the wisdom of pre- 
 ferring friendship to love, except in cer- 
 tain circumstances. 
 
 Fidelia would have been surprised by 
 her discourse, but that she imputed it to 
 a suddenly-excited suspicion of her enter- 
 taining a preferable regard for colonel 
 Grandison — a conjecture, that whilst it 
 agitated and confused her, decided her on 
 endeavouring henceforth to keep a strict 
 watch over her feelings ; and to this she 
 was also incited by the consideration of 
 the little probability there was, from the 
 difference of their situations, of his ever 
 thinking seriously of her, and that there- 
 fore it behoved her, as she valued her hap- 
 piness, and perhaps fame, to be vigilant 
 and circumspect in her conduct. Yet, 
 notwithstanding her consequent resolution 
 to avoid him as much as possible, she could 
 not help feeling both mortified and de- 
 jected, when, on his calling in the course 
 of the morning, the countess, telling her
 
 264 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 not to disturb herself from her work, said 
 she would go down to receive him by her- 
 self. To this, however, she was instigat- 
 ed, not merely by the jealousy she enter- 
 tained of the attachment she suspected be- 
 tween them, but her wish for a private 
 opportunity of questioning Grandison con- 
 cerning Fidelia. 
 
 His answers to her queries so confirmed 
 the statement received from her as almost 
 to decide the countess on yielding to her 
 wishes concerning her ; yet so convinced, 
 so aware was she of the project she suffer- 
 ed herself to dwell on being one that could 
 not fail of being censured and ridiculed 
 — of exposing her to " the world's dread 
 laugh, which scarce the stern philosopher 
 can bear," that carefully she guarded 
 against any expression that could convey 
 a suspicion of it. 
 
 What indeed could be more extravagant 
 than the idea of not merely suffering, but 
 absolutely wishing for an alliance between 
 her son, the ennobled heir of vast estates,
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 265 
 
 and a being not merely portionless and 
 friendless, but whose origin was unknown ; 
 yet such was now her ardent wish, owing 
 to the very circumstances that would have 
 checked it in another mind, namely, Fi- 
 delia's being totally destitute and uncon- 
 nected. 
 
 Had colonel Grandison been as explicit 
 as he might, this wish would have receiv- 
 ed a sanction that would probably have 
 prevented her any longer deeming it ex- 
 pedient to keep it concealed. A tale was 
 in his power to unfold, that would at once 
 have confirmed and strengthened the in- 
 terest experienced for Fidelia — a tale that 
 would have divested of all appearance of 
 romantic extravagance any thing she could 
 do for her. 
 
 Struck — affected beyond description at 
 finding Fidelia under her protection — al- 
 most led, from the regard she manifested 
 for her, to believe in the instinctive im- 
 pulses' of nature, nearly was he tempted to 
 disclose the circumstances above alluded 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 to ; but while a doubt remained as to facts 
 absolutely essential to substantiate it, he 
 deemed it advisable, for the sake of the 
 countess herself, to remain entirely silent 
 on the subject, aware of the poignancy 
 with which a mind like hers would feel 
 the disappointment of any pleasing hopes, 
 such as, notwithstanding his expectations 
 to the contrary, she might be destined to 
 experience. 
 
 To ascertain this — to learn whether the 
 persuasion that had early inspired such an 
 interest for Fidelia — an interest indepen- 
 dent of that her youth, her innocence, 
 her beauty, were so peculiarly calculated 
 to create, he was now employing every 
 means in his power. He had discovered 
 where her nurse was to be applied to, and 
 had written to her, requiring an answer to 
 the inquiries suggested, and holding out 
 the strongest inducements for the disclo- 
 sure of the truth. 
 
 Till the expected answer arrived, it was 
 his resolve to avoid her as much as pos-
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 267 
 
 sible, aware, that should it be adverse to his 
 wishes, to think seriously of her would be 
 madness ; but this resolution, so wise and 
 proper, was only adhered to when there 
 was no temptation to break it — when he 
 knew he could see her. To resist seeking 
 to do so was beyond his power, and thus, 
 notwithstanding the jealous vigilance of 
 the countess, who watched over her, he 
 found continual opportunities for meeting 
 and conversing with her. 
 
 It was now, to use poetical language, 
 the very pride and manhood of the year, 
 when the apple, reddening 'midst its paly 
 green, the moist pear bending the leafy 
 spray, the ripening grain, and still more 
 varied foliage, all proclaim the approach of 
 that glad season that gives to the husband- 
 man the fruition of his hopes and labours. 
 Lady Castle Dermot could not therefore 
 be always contriving pretexts for keeping 
 Fidelia within, except when she chose to 
 go out herself, which, except in a carriage, 
 was very seldom the case ; and in explain- 
 N2
 
 268 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 ing the diversified scenery of the park, in 
 seeking new sketches for her pencil, Fide- 
 lia was sure of always encountering Gran- 
 dison — sometimes with his fishing-rod, 
 sometimes his dogs; in short, always in 
 such a way as to make it appear as if it 
 was owing to chance, not premeditation 
 on his part ; and thus was she prevented 
 the agitation and embarrassment she must 
 otherwise have experienced from the cir- 
 cumstance.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 269 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Then let us teach our trial patience, 
 Because it is a customary cross, 
 As due to lore as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, 
 Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers." 
 
 But not quite as unsuspicious as her pro- 
 tegee was the countess : to design, she was 
 convinced, these meetings w^ere owing ; and 
 the motive to which she, of course, imputed 
 them, alarmed and pained her greatly: but 
 not entirely to selfish motives was owing 
 her uneasiness and anxiety on the subject. 
 She felt sincerely interested for Grandison : 
 to know him intimately, as she did, and not 
 be so, would indeed have been impossible; 
 and aware of his grandfather's feelings and 
 hers being in direct opposition on matters 
 of ambition, she determined on taking him 
 to task with regard to Fidelia, convinced
 
 270 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 that if he suffered himself to be entangled 
 in an attachment for her, it must, in some 
 way or other, be the means of occasioning 
 him unhappiness, if not ruin. 
 
 She was not long in finding the oppor- 
 tunity she sought; and addressed with a 
 solicitude so truly maternal as deeply to 
 affect him, recalled to recollection by her 
 admonitions, he acknowledged the pro- 
 priety of what she said, and promised 
 henceforward to shun what he had hitherto 
 so sedulously sought, aware of the cruelty 
 there was, both to himself and the innocent 
 object of his attachment, in doing ought 
 that had a tendency to strengthen this, 
 uncertain as were his hopes with regard to 
 her. 
 
 Yet must he give up the delight of con- 
 versing with her — of watching those fu- 
 gitive blushes indicative to his fond fancy 
 of delightful emotions — of listening to re- 
 marks at once lively and innocent? Oh, 
 even to look into her dark eyes was hap- 
 piness! but he knew — he felt the necessity
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 271 
 
 of the measure, and resolved to be steady 
 to his promise. He was at liberty to quit 
 the depot for a time, if he chose, and ac- 
 cordingly decided on not delaying to avail 
 himself of it. 
 
 He had no sooner notified this determi- 
 nation to the countess, than (lord Castle 
 Dermot still lingering at Rock Fort) she 
 earnestly entreated he would express to 
 him the surprise she felt at not seeing 
 him before at Woodlands — " Should he 
 still hesitate to attend to my wishes, you 
 must force him thence," she angrily said ; 
 " you have the power to do so by com- 
 manding him to the depot." 
 
 " True ; but it was a power Grandison 
 resolved not to avail- himself of. What ! be 
 the means of throwing Fidelia in the way 
 of the licentious pursuit of the dissipated 
 Castle Dermot again? No; nothing could 
 induce him, and though ignorant of what 
 had occurred, still he wondered her lady- 
 ship could be so imprudent, so indiscreet, 
 as to desire his coming, while an object so
 
 272 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 dangerous, so attractive, was under her 
 care. Almost was he tempted to rebuke 
 her with sternness for such a want of 
 thought ; but he would not be accessary to 
 any mischief, and accordingly determined 
 on doing all in his power to detain her 
 son at the Castle. 
 
 Having fixed on quitting the depot, he 
 decided on departing that evening ; but 
 how could he depart without seeing Fide- 
 lia — without bidding her adieu — without 
 announcing himself his intended depar- 
 ture, in order, perhaps, to see its effect 
 upon her? By chance, in approaching 
 the house, he had heard where she was, 
 and no sooner took leave of lady Castle 
 Dermot, than resigning his horse to his 
 groom, he turned towards the place where 
 he expected to find her. 
 
 This was at the ruins of a once-stately 
 abbey, in a retired and very romantic part 
 of the park, still so impressive and pic- 
 turesque as to attract many a visitor of 
 taste and feeling. Fidelia had commenced
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 273 
 
 a sketch of the interior, and seated at her 
 task, Grandison surprised her. But her 
 hand had paused at the moment, as she sat 
 upon a tombstone and surveyed the pon- 
 derous arches, that in fine perspective had 
 once appeared gradually receding from the 
 eye, but now overrun with grass and weeds, 
 filled up with crumbling heaps the remo- 
 ter views, she involuntarily thought of the 
 changes and chances of this mortal life. 
 
 The cruel reverses, the direful revolu- 
 tions to which families as well as states are 
 subject, the unhappy condition of those 
 who, born to flattering prospects, find them- 
 selves suddenly despoiled of all, and with 
 all those elegant desires, those noble as- 
 pirings, that pride and sensitive delicacy 
 which independence nourishes, compelled 
 to bear the slights and scorn of the illi- 
 beral and upstart. How true, she also 
 thought, that man by his conduct aggra- 
 vates the ills of life to man, that through 
 it it is that the arrows of fate often become 
 so barbed and empoisoned ! 
 N3
 
 274 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 The stealing approach of Grandison 
 roused her from her reverie, and with a 
 palpitation at her heart that announced 
 the intruder, she turned to receive him. 
 
 Some minutes elapsed ere he had cou- 
 rage to utter that cruel word farewell! — 
 minutes pretended to be employed in ex- 
 amining her sketch, but in reality in gaz- 
 ing on the countenance of the lovely artist. 
 Suddenly observing the intentness of his 
 gaze, Fidelia, colouring and confused, be- 
 gan to collect her pencils, saying she felt 
 disinclined to pursue her task any longer 
 that day.' 
 
 " But ere you go hence, let me accom- 
 plish my painful task," said Grandison, 
 opposing her departure — " one that you 
 will not be sorry perhaps that I am com- 
 pelled to." He then mentioned his in- 
 tended departure. 
 
 Fidelia felt a chill through her feelings, 
 but striving to rally her spirits — " You 
 scarcely merit, after what you have said," 
 she cried, " that I should say I am sorry.
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 275 
 
 Why should you suppose that I would be 
 glad of the departure of a person to — to 
 — to whom I feel myself indebted for 
 many kind attentions ?" 
 
 " Oh, assure me of this !" forcibly de- 
 taining her struggling hand, and pursuing 
 her averted eye — " assure me that you in- 
 deed feel regret for my going, that I may 
 depart with a lightened heart." 
 
 " What, to render your heart light, is it 
 requisite that you should be assured those 
 of your friends are heavy ? That is ra- 
 ther strange, I think." 
 
 " Oh no ! for to be assured that you feel 
 sorrow for my departure, would be to in- 
 spire a hope of not being immediately for- 
 gotten, and to be allowed to indulge the 
 idea of living in your remembrance, need 
 I say the happiness it would afford ?" 
 
 Living in her remembrance ! what did 
 this expression mean ? Did it not imply 
 a long, a last farewell? Was their ac- 
 quaintance then to be so suddenly termi- 
 nated — the soothing pleasure she had en-
 
 276 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 joyed in his converse and grateful atten- 
 tions relinquished for ever? Forgotten 
 by her ! No — the probability was, that it 
 was she would be forgotten by him — that 
 the various pursuits in which he was en- 
 gaged would quickly obliterate her idea 
 from his recollection. 
 
 " Will you not give me the assurance I 
 require ?" he said — " will you not tell me 
 that happiness itself shall not quite banish 
 me from your thoughts ?" 
 
 Fidelia burst into tears — " Oh, do not 
 fear," she said, " that my being too happy 
 will make me forget you— forget any one 
 entitled to my esteem ! As the friend of 
 my friend, and a person to whom I am obli- 
 ged for many proofs of politeness and at- 
 tention, colonel Grandison will be remem- 
 bered by me." 
 
 To give further utterance to what he 
 felt the impassioned Grandison did not 
 dare ; but to his throbbing heart he pressed 
 the hand which he had detained, while his 
 eyes sought those lovely ones in which all
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 27? 
 
 that he could picture to himself of beauty 
 and of feeling was expressed. Oh, how 
 did he wish that he could have ventured 
 to wipe away the tears that now suffused 
 them ! — to dry with the ardent kiss of love 
 the soft cheek on which they hung trem- 
 bling ! 
 
 At this instant a deep, a heart-breathed 
 sigh was heard ; both started, and looked 
 eagerly towards the spot whence it pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 * Who can it be ?" exclaimed Fidelia. 
 
 " I don't know," answered her com- 
 panion, but evidently confused from an 
 apprehension of its being lady Castle Der- 
 mot, who, in consequence of what she had 
 witnessed, might not only think him de- 
 serving of reproach, but might try to in- 
 jure him with Fidelia. 
 
 " Shall I try ?" he at length added, after 
 a pause, and as he spoke, he moved to- 
 wards the spot. 
 
 Just as he reached it, some one was 
 heard rushing out ; but though he darted
 
 278 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 forward, the quantity of clustering bushes 
 that grew in this direction, intermingled 
 with fragments of the ruin, totally pre- 
 cluded his discovering who it was. 
 
 " How strange !" said Fidelia. 
 
 " Oh, not so very strange, perhaps/' 
 he replied, seized with a sudden pang of 
 jealousy: " some admirer, perhaps, of Miss 
 Hawthorn's, apprised of her intention of 
 coming here by herself." 
 
 " Apprised of her intention !" Fidelia 
 started back, and after surveying him for 
 a moment with an appalling frown of in- 
 dignation, turned abruptly from him. 
 
 He hastily followed, and again seizing 
 her hand, vowed he could not, would not 
 let her pass till she forgave the expression 
 that had involuntarily escaped him. 
 
 Seriously offended, Fidelia, without 
 speaking, was trying to disengage her 
 hand from him, when again a sigh, deeper 
 than before, was heard. 
 
 " We are watched," cried Grandison, 
 and dropping her hand, he again rushed
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 279 
 
 towards the place from which it seemed to 
 come. 
 
 Fidelia took advantage of the circum- 
 stance to effect her escape, but had hardly 
 got many paces, when she was again join- 
 ed by Grandison — " I could 'not discover 
 even a trace of any one," he said, " and 
 am almost tempted to believe the building 
 haunted : were I to remain longer here, I 
 should endeavour to exorcise the spirit." 
 
 " Perhaps it would be better to try 
 what you could do with one more imme- 
 diately in your power," observed Fidelia, 
 a little sarcastically. 
 
 " Ah ! I understand you ; but come, 
 afford me a proof of yours being under 
 your control, by letting me obtain the for- 
 giveness I solicit." 
 
 " Oh well, there," permitting him to 
 take the hand for which his was extended ; 
 " but remember, that to readily pardon is 
 sometimes as much a proof of careless in- 
 difference about what has been said, as of 
 real good-nature."
 
 280 THE MUNSTEIt COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 " Thank you," said Grandison, laugh- 
 ing ; " you want to prevent my being 
 too much elated by having succeeded in 
 deprecating your resentment : but it 
 won't do — I must be all joy at it." But 
 the pleasure he evinced was of short dura- 
 tion. 
 
 They soon reached the spot where he 
 meant to leave her, and uncertain when or 
 whether they should meet again — whether 
 he might not be compelled by honour and 
 feeling to persevere in shunning her, he 
 suffered a pang at the moment he could 
 scarcely conceal. 
 
 Fidelia lingered behind him ; she tried 
 to persuade herself that the tender, the 
 affectionate adieu she had received was not 
 a final one ; yet almost was she tempted to 
 relinquish this idea, from the almost so- 
 lemn manner in which it was given. 
 
 While musing on it — while recalling 
 all he had ever said — all perhaps he had 
 ever looked, she was surprised by lady 
 Castle Dermot. That Grandison would
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 281 
 
 probably seek a parting interview, sudden- 
 ly occurred to her, and instantly decided 
 her on going out in quest of Fidelia. 
 
 The moment she saw her, she strictly 
 questioned her, not only whether she had 
 seen Grandison, but on her acknowledging 
 she had, what he had said to her. 
 
 This Fidelia could not bring herself ex- 
 actly to detail; she succeeded, however, 
 in dispelling the alarm that had seized her 
 ladyship, of some dangerous explanation 
 having taken place between them in this 
 last interview; and she determined it 
 should not be her fault if they had a simi- 
 lar opportunity again for disappointing the 
 hope she was indulging. 
 
 But why did not lord Castle Dermot 
 come? It was soon evident that Gran- 
 dison had not attended to her request, 
 and she now wondered that she could 
 have ever supposed he would; that, ad- 
 miring Fidelia as he did himself, he 
 would be the means of exposing her to 
 the admiration of another. At length
 
 282 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 
 
 she addressed a letter to her careless son, 
 couched in a manner so artful as to excite, 
 as intended, a degree of curiosity that in- 
 duced him to decide on paying her a flying 
 visit. 
 
 In the meantime Fidelia was every day 
 treated with a greater degree of indulgence 
 and affection. Now that Grandison was 
 gone, no restraint was attempted to be 
 imposed on her actions. But the freedom 
 allowed her she did not misuse : sad and 
 pensive as often were her feelings, she al- 
 lowed them no romantic indulgence ; by 
 constant employment, by cultivating, as 
 far as in her power, the talents she was 
 mistress of, she strove at once to banish 
 dejecting reflections, and merit her own 
 approbation. 
 
 From the delightfulness of the season, 
 her favourite occupation was sketching the 
 adjacent scenery : she loved to catch the 
 varying tints of aerial hue — the purple 
 haze — the crimson glow of evening — the 
 dark wood — the shrouded village — the
 
 THE MUNSTER COTTAGE BOY. 283 
 
 ivied spire — the woodman, with his rag- 
 ged dog, marking his mazy path by trail- 
 ing smoke — the pretty cottager, peeping 
 through the honeysuckle screen of her 
 little casement — the beggar, old but blithe 
 — and the playful children, bursting from 
 the confinement of the village school. 
 
 END of vol. I. 
 
 Printed by J. Darling, Leadenhall-s , London.
 
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