/^; 
 
 /^/>// 
 
 T 
 
 // / 
 
 Y?/?
 
 The person charging this material is re- 
 sponsible for its return to the library from 
 which it was withdrawn on or before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 Theft, mutilation, and underlining of book, are reason, 
 for disciplinary action and may result In dismissal from 
 the University. 
 To renew call Telephone Center, 333-840O 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 =WTri9?5 
 
 Li6i_O-1096
 
 ^^ 
 
 LIB R_AR,Y 
 
 OF THL 
 
 U N 1VER.5ITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 V.I
 
 WALSINGHAM. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 LONDON ; 
 PRINTED BV SAMUEL ESNTLEY 
 Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
 
 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 THE GAMESTER. 
 
 BY CAPT. FREDERIC CHAMIER, R.N. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 *' LIFE OF A SAILOR," " BEN BRACE," &c. 
 
 " I have set my life upon a cast, 
 
 And I will stand the hazard of the die." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 1837.
 
 8t^ 
 
 WALSINGHAM; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 When the chilling winter of age checks the 
 current of the blood, — when sickness and disease, 
 distress and misery, cast a gloom over the valley 
 of the shadow of death, — then it is that the mind 
 looks back with horror on the black picture of 
 its own degradation, and all the future is dark 
 and dismal, without hope and without consola- 
 tion. To those in the holy offices of religion 
 how sedulously do the unhappy unburthen their 
 minds, and how eagerly they solicit absolution ! 
 Even in their confessions they feel the load 
 lightened, and experience, when they have made 
 another a confidant in their weakness, that they 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 have relieved themselves without adding to their 
 neighbours' misfortunes. Thus the man deprived 
 of parents, wife, and children, — the blighted branch 
 on the blighted stem, sinking rapidly in the 
 grave which yawns to receive him, — feels the con- 
 solation others have experienced as he proceeds 
 to cleanse his foul bosom from the perilous stuff 
 that runs within it. 
 
 It is true that mankind in general deceive 
 themselves in the motives by which they are 
 actuated ; and perhaps even when they affirm 
 that they are induced to publish their crimes, 
 their exposures of a career of weakness and of 
 vice, as much from a desire to serve as a beacon 
 to others, (that, like the drunken Helot, they 
 may repel, rather than attract,) as to unload the 
 terrible weight that drags down their almost ex- 
 hausted nature, — perhaps they may be impelled 
 by a less noble motive, they may be induced to 
 anatomize themselves from the want of some 
 greater stimulant ; for those who, until poverty 
 forced them from the path, were familiar with 
 the greatest of all excitements, may feel a mo- 
 mentary relief when the pen embodies their
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 3 
 
 thoughts, when they marshal their reflections 
 on this ambiguous and distressing world, and 
 when they retrace those stirring scenes, in which, 
 notwithstanding their fallen and degraded state, 
 they still in imagination seem to live, to move, 
 and have their being. Happy indeed should 
 he feel who finds that his example has been a 
 warning to others, and that the records of crime 
 have tm-ned one man from that course which 
 must inevitably end in poverty — must ruin the 
 health and degrade the mind ! 
 
 How far legislators are to blame, who by the 
 plunder of the subject enrich the coffers of the 
 state, is a point on which it is useless to insist ; 
 but surely that government has little to pride 
 itself upon, which can allow a monopoly of vice, 
 and by the exorbitant price paid for permission 
 to erect and open these sinks of iniquity, them- 
 selves almost legalize fraud — nay, urge the ne- 
 cessity of its practice in order that the proprietors 
 may be enabled to clear a sufficiency to pay 
 that government. 
 
 Honesty wavers when poverty assaults : the 
 man of an avaricious cast of mind can never 
 
 b2
 
 view with indifference the piles of gold which 
 glisten on the Spanish gambling-table, or look 
 unmoved at tbe numerous billets de banque 
 that are seen through the sliding boxes of the 
 salon or Frascati's. In this country it is worse 
 than either, because it is illegal to gamble, and 
 yet it is sanctioned : the police are carefully ex- 
 cluded, the law has no eyes for the protection 
 of the swindled, and when intoxication succeeds 
 the first fury of continual losses, who can be 
 answerable, or who can protect the unfortunate 
 man from the pinching gripe of the professed 
 gambler, the greedy and insatiable grasp of the 
 practised swindler? We know the degradation 
 of mind, the absolute ruin of health and pro- 
 perty, which follows the path of those thus un- 
 happily lured by their own proper protectors. 
 The bridges which adorn the Seine are gene- 
 rally the last spot occupied by the living body 
 of the gambler in France, and the Morgue shows 
 the skeleton carcase of the plundered and the 
 plunderer in all the horrid nakedness of de- 
 formity. 
 
 The lotteries in England for a time contri-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 5 
 
 buted to demoralize the poorer classes ; whilst 
 the taste for dress, and the prospect of obtain- 
 ing a chance to gratify it, made that class on 
 whom our comforts depend in an equal ratio 
 with their honesty, swerve from the path of vir- 
 tue in order to obtain that which chance ren- 
 dered it almost impossible to possess. Thus the 
 government which sanctions gambling offers a 
 premium upon dishonesty : but doubly culpable 
 is that government which, pretending to wear the 
 outward garb of sincerity, winks behind the false 
 mask, and allows, yes publicly allows — what by law 
 is prohibited. Look at the booths at a race : 
 under the very eye of royalty must villany flou- 
 rish, that villany being illegal. It is needless 
 to carry this idea farther ; indirectly we do what 
 the French government does openly : both are 
 to blame, both encourage dishonesty, both con- 
 tribute to the ruin and demoralization of the 
 subject. 
 
 Still is the infatuation so great, that although 
 we know the chances which are against us — we 
 know the sum the proprietors must win in order 
 to carry on the establishment, yet we go with a
 
 6 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 poor capital to fight against that "which can com- 
 mand thousands — we stake our money against 
 the fearful odds of superior capital and expe- 
 rienced dexterity. 
 
 When Robert Douglass had placed his last re- 
 lative in the grave — had returned to his now 
 solitary home, and gazed in silence round the 
 desert of his occupation, he carefully counted 
 the sum which remained his all in this world : 
 he who had gone before had left nothing to in- 
 crease the stock, and his whole fortune amounted 
 to the immense sum of about three thousand 
 pounds — a mere vegetation for life ; and this 
 was all that remained from the wreck of a much 
 finer property. 
 
 For some time after his last relative's death, 
 and his disappointments, Douglass led a re- 
 tired life in a country village in England, 
 the name of which we shall call Wilmington, 
 and which was distant but a few miles from the 
 metropolis. Of all monotonous lives, for a man 
 who had travelled over nearly the whole world, 
 that residence was the worst ; the bickering scan- 
 dal which is inseperable from the small commu-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 7 
 
 iiities in the country had very few charms for 
 him; — in short, he cared not one straw whe- 
 ther Miss Jeminia Wilkins had grown unex- 
 pectedly stout, and the next morning " most 
 miraculously recovered her shape;*" or whether 
 Miss Clarissa Smith had eloped with the sexton 
 of the village, and thus, by the kind offices of 
 the last attendant of us all, buried her reputa- 
 tion in a grave prepared by her tempter. Dou- 
 glass attended the village church with punctuality ; 
 and he did it more with the desire — the fatal 
 failing of the idle — of destroying a few hours, 
 than under the idea of a religious obligation. It 
 so happened that near the pulpit was a pew capa- 
 ble of holding only two ; and as Douglass wished 
 to borrow as much importance upon as economi- 
 cal a principle as possible, he took both seats, 
 and sat alone in all his grandeur, to the very 
 great annoyance of several of his most sincere 
 and affectionate friends. One day in winter, 
 when country churches are neither the warmest 
 nor the dryest of brick buildings, just as the cler- 
 gyman had given out his text, and the rustle of 
 leaves had subsided, occasioned by the young
 
 8 
 
 ladies hunting for the chapter and verse as if to 
 catch the preacher in an error, the heavy foot- 
 steps of an elderly man were heard as he walked 
 a few paces into the interior. Every eye was 
 instantly directed towards the stranger ; and not- 
 withstanding the place, curiosity expressed itself 
 in whispers, and the attention of the congregation 
 was turned towards the old gentleman. 
 
 He wore a rather old acquaintance in the shape 
 of a great-coat, and which certainly would have 
 been none the worse for a hot iron and a piece 
 of brown paper. He seemed to be fatigued with 
 his walk, and leant over a pew which would have 
 contained two more than inhabited it. He gave 
 that intelligible look at the inmates, as much as 
 to say, " Let me in ;"" but Christian charity was 
 not the leading principle of the old women, who 
 began immediately to spread themselves out, 
 thereby apparently occupying the whole of the 
 pew, and looking up significantly, as much as to 
 respond, " Only see how you would incommode 
 us !"" The poor old gentleman advanced a little 
 farther ; but there seemed a general fear of con- 
 tamination or of rheumatism, for some small rain
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 9 
 
 had fallen, and his rough coat seemed like plants 
 covered with the morning dew. (Brummel once 
 remarked, that he had caught cold by being put 
 in a room with a damp stranger.) The intruder 
 was evidently rather deaf, for he kept his right 
 hand to his ear, making a kind of trumpet, and 
 twisting his mouth over to the left side with the 
 intention of opening the tube of hearing as much 
 as possible, he continued to advance towards the 
 pulpit by slow and measured paces, (for the 
 clergyman dropped his voice at the conclusion 
 of his sentence in such a manner as to be nearly 
 inaudible,) until he reached Douglass. He instantly 
 opened the door, and receiving a bow of acknow- 
 ledgment, the stranger took his seat and con- 
 tinued to pay the greatest attention to the dis- 
 course. When the blessing was given and the 
 congregation on the stir, the new acquaintance 
 offered his hand, which was instantly taken ; and 
 as Douglass walked out of the church, the stran- 
 ger placed his arm within his, — and although Dou- 
 glass felt that the coat of the stranger and his 
 were not made by the same tailor, and that one 
 was new and the other old, yet he somehow felt 
 
 B
 
 10 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 a pride at having done a commonly civil action, 
 more particularly as his neighbours had acted in 
 a contrary manner. Douglass thought he ob- 
 served the sneers of some of his old female 
 friends, and the gibes and laughs of the younger ; 
 for when the old gentleman put his hat on his 
 head, he stood as good a representation of a 
 bankrupt clothesman as Rag Fair could produce. 
 If this man has no money, thought Robert, he 
 does not act up to the advice, " Never be poor 
 and show poor." 
 
 For some time the stranger was silent. He ap- 
 peared more infirm than Robert had supposed, 
 and he leant as heavily on his arm as a lame 
 man does on a crutch. At last he spoke, and 
 there was a mildness in his manner that was capti- 
 vating in the extreme. 
 
 " I am,'"* said he, addressing Douglass, " much 
 obliged to you for your civility ; for although it 
 is said that in the house of God all are equal, 
 yet those ladies seemed to think otherwise. They 
 are fools for their pains ! — they might have done 
 a more gracious act than in denying rest to the 
 weary, or in hindering one who cannot remain
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 11 
 
 much longer in this world from hearing com- 
 fortably the voice and the instruction of the cler- 
 gyman. Pray what is your name ?"" said the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 " Robert Douglass." 
 
 " Have you no other Christian name but Ro- 
 bert?" 
 
 " None," replied Robert. 
 
 " The name," continued the elderly gentleman, 
 " is not unknown to me ; for many years since, 
 when I was wrecked near Madras, I received much 
 attention from a gentleman of that name." 
 
 " It was my father," replied Robert. 
 
 The old gentleman stopped, looked at him 
 long in the face, unheeding the titters of those 
 who passed, and who, like all idle blockheads, 
 seemed to wish to be informed of what wonder- 
 ful conversation could take place between two 
 men. " Your father must be numbered with 
 the dead, I should imagine ; for had he lived to 
 this day, he would have been about eighty-four, — 
 an age few attain who have lived for thirty-two 
 years in that country : but he was a strong, tem- 
 perate, and active-minded man."
 
 12 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 '' He has been dead about six years,^' replied 
 Robert. 
 
 " He ought to have died a wealthy man,**' said 
 the stranger, " for he held high situations, and 
 although he lived like a nabob, he must have left 
 some lacs of rupees. And you," he continued, 
 " how comes it that you are buried alive in this 
 village ? You should be more actively employed 
 than in the tattling company of old maidens or 
 the solitary walk of a churchyard." 
 
 " My life has been unfortunate, and that which 
 I inherited," replied Robert, " is almost gone — 
 all but a bare sufficiency: I was robbed of it, 
 plundered of it, and the perjurer lives and 
 flourishes." 
 
 " The way of the world, sir," replied the stran- 
 ger : '' your thief is a nobleman until the gallows 
 exalts him above his proper sphere. But did you 
 gamble, did you lose it at play ? — tell me the 
 truth, sir." 
 
 " I never played a card in my life," he replied. 
 " I lost my money by a tissue of misfortunes, by 
 the operation of a cruel law, by the ignorance of 
 my adviser, by the perjuries of others."
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 13 
 
 " Nothing more common," replied the stranger: 
 "false witnesses are as common in England as 
 blackberries ; it is of late years become a profes- 
 sion. But the law would ruin any man in the 
 expenses upon justice." 
 
 " And therefore," resumed Robert, " as I can- 
 not hold up my head where I once could do so, 
 I have retired to this village ; and am not sorry I 
 have so done, since it affords me the pleasure of 
 welcoming an old friend of my father's. This is 
 my house : though small, it is convenient ; and 
 although I am obliged to forego the luxuries, 
 yet I have the necessaries of life. Pray, walk in, 
 sir ; and if you are inclined to pass some time in 
 this retreat, allow me to offer you a bed, and 
 whatever my humble roof contains. But as I have 
 made you acquainted with my name, will you 
 allow me to know that which must have been 
 familiar to my father ?" 
 
 The stranger walked in without answering ; he 
 placed his hat on a peg, shook the wet and rub- 
 bed the dirt from his coat, hung it up, pulled the 
 tails down to avoid any wrinkles, produced an 
 old pocket-handkerchief and flourished it over his
 
 14 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 hat, pocketed his gloves, wiped his feet, and then 
 walked into a small front parlour. Instead of 
 warming his hands, he began to take oiF some of 
 the coals, until he left the mere skeleton of a 
 fire, although he shivered with cold. He took 
 up so close a position as to endanger his inex- 
 pressibles. 
 
 " You are extravagant, Mr. Robert, — that is 
 the name, ay ?'''' and he took out an old almost worn- 
 out pocket-book, and after rubbing some anima- 
 tion into his hands he wrote down, " Robert, the 
 son of John Douglass.^' " Now," he continued, 
 "■ who is your banker, or your lawyer, or anybody 
 you know^ in London where I may find or hear 
 of you ; because if you come that way I shall be 
 most happy to see you, and I sometimes like to 
 make inquiries for my friends instead of their 
 being obliged to hunt me up. But come near the 
 fire ; you must be cold so far away." 
 
 It was quite evident to Robert that his friend 
 was a character, and although he wished him any- 
 where else than in the place of which he had pos- 
 sessed himself, for he was a screen when it was 
 least wanted, yet he resolved to humour him to 
 the height of his bent.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 15 
 
 The conversation soon took a much more ex- 
 tended range than finding fault ; and when five 
 o'clock came, they had tried many subjects, and 
 amongst others gambling. — " Of all vices," said 
 the stranger, " this is the worst. The libertine 
 may be reclaimed ; the drunkard may listen to 
 the warnings of disease; the prodigal may be- 
 come sensible of the necessity of frugality ; the 
 liar may see the beauty of truth ; the reprobate 
 may be charmed by virtue : but the gambler 
 never can be reclaimed. I speak not now of those 
 who idle away, or while away, whichever you 
 like, an hour, holding thirteen pieces of painted 
 pasteboard, and putting down in silence the same 
 colour and kind as their adversaries might have 
 played ; I speak not of the innocent amusement 
 of a round-table party, or of those who, to gratify 
 curiosity, pay the penalty of being inquisitive : 
 but I speak of the real downright gamester, whose 
 only occupation is play — who dreams of hazard, 
 who awakes but to rattle the dice, and calculates 
 nothing but chances — whose whole existence con- 
 sists in robbing, or perhaps wishing to possess 
 himself of the property of another — to whom the
 
 16 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 ravings of the ruined are music, whose enjoyment 
 is purchased by the sacrifice of others, whose 
 smiles are provoked by the tears of the distressed, 
 whose whole soul and body is bent upon the de- 
 struction of his neio^hbour for the ag-arandizement 
 of himself. That man is beyond the reach of re- 
 demption. Gambling is to the mind what opium 
 is to the body ; deprive the one or the other of 
 the now necessary excitement, and the patient 
 dies. I do not speak these words as idle loun- 
 gers retail the borrowed sentences of great writers, 
 — too well I know the consequences from the hor- 
 ror I have experienced : I lost my only son from 
 this infernal vice, and painful as it is to me to re- 
 call the bitter lesson, yet I shrink not from the 
 task of warning others from that destructive path. 
 My poor, poor boy ! yes, willingly would I lay 
 down those riches, which make me the envy of 
 my neighbours, for the pleasure of again folding 
 you in my arms ; and as I bathed your face from 
 the tears of my heart, pour out my blessings and 
 forgiveness on your repentant head ! But he is 
 gone for ever ! never more shall I gaze upon 
 his face, never more shall I listen to the ani-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 17 
 
 mated description which youth gives when plea- 
 sure is the subject ; but now an old decrepid 
 pilgrim, fast verging to that end where 1 shall 
 again rest near him, and where the staff of age 
 shall be thrown aside, and the quiet of the Chris- 
 tian''s grave obtained." Here the old gentleman's 
 feelings got the better of his resolution, and after 
 wiping his eyes and going to the window with the 
 intention of conceahng his emotion, he returned 
 again to his seat, and taking Robert by the hand, 
 he said: "After dinner I will hold up a mirror 
 which shall scare you, if you are a gambler; I will 
 convince you of the folly, the madness, the ini- 
 quity of the act ; and as I am already wearied, 
 I will accept your offer of a bed. My portmanteau 
 is at the public-house where I alighted as the 
 coach passed through. I had intended proceeding 
 onwards to night to Cheltenham ; but I am fee- 
 ble and ill, and want the requisite stamina for 
 the undertaking." Saying which, he arose, and 
 taking down his great-coat, he again removed 
 some few specks of dirt, and was proceeding to 
 wear it, when Robert suggested that as he was 
 younger, he could go and have the portmanteau
 
 IS WALSINGHAM, 
 
 conveyed to liis house. '' No," lie replied, " I 
 ■\vill do it mvself;" and althousfL falterinsr in his 
 steps, he crossed the street, and shortly after- 
 wards Robert saw him return carrying his own 
 luggage, and tottering fearfully at every step. 
 
 From the words which had escaped him, and the 
 extreme contradiction between his expressions and 
 his apparent condition, Robert was anxious if pos- 
 sible to glean some records of his life. His name 
 he had carefully concealed ; his portmanteau was 
 without an address : his hat had the word ' Gol- 
 gotha/ the place of a skull, marked therein ; and 
 his pocket-handkerchief had hardly a comer where- 
 on to affix an initial ; — yet had he talked of the 
 wealth which made others envious, he had hinted 
 that he would lay down all for one glimpse of his 
 departed son, and his conversation was so much 
 above the common run of familiar phrases that 
 Robert was lost in conjecture. It was evident 
 he was of a miserly turn : the attention to his 
 coat and hat, the manner in which he deprived 
 himself of the fire, the niggard care with which 
 he fed the flame, all con\*inced Robert that if
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 19 
 
 he had a fortune, it had been one of the many 
 saved, not made. 
 
 During his absence, Robert mounted two bot- 
 tles of good old port, and placed them not far 
 from the fire. The evening was closing in, and the 
 drizzling rain rendered it more obscure than was 
 usual at that season of the year. The little fire was 
 stirred, which Robert ventured to increase ; and 
 when the curtains were drawn, the shutters fasten- 
 ed, the two candles lighted, the table-cloth clean, 
 and the silver polished, Robert flattered himself, 
 (for he afterwards looked back with some satisfac- 
 tion upon the remembrance of that evening,) al- 
 though the home was small, it was comfortable, 
 and while the wind increased, and the rain fell in 
 torrents, he and his aged companion were shel- 
 tered from both, and in the enjo^Tnent of all that 
 the frugal could require.
 
 20 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Douglass directed tlie servant, a rather plump- 
 looking red-armed country girl, to assist the 
 stranger with his load ; and shortly he heard him 
 stumping about over his head. The maid was in- 
 structed to tell him that the sheets were before 
 the kitchen fire, and begged to know if he would 
 have one in his room. This last he refused in a 
 sullen manner, saying that three fires in a house 
 were sufiicient to warm Windsor Castle. Dou- 
 glass resolved not to make any addition to his 
 usual Sunday's cheer, which consisted of a piece 
 of roast-beef, some bursting potatoes, and a 
 Yorkshire-pudding : a small plum-puddding was 
 to form the centre of the repast, whilst some 
 apples and dried fruit brought up the rear. 
 
 It was just six o*'clock Avhen the stranger enter- 
 ed the parlour; and no man could have recognised,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 21 
 
 in the clean gentlemanly deportment, the ragman 
 resurrectionist of the morning. His hair, white by 
 nature, had been carefully powdered, and his 
 whole appearance would have done credit to a 
 finished courtier. Douglass now saw what a 
 tailor and a powder-puff could do for a man : the 
 stiff air of the first acquaintance was superseded 
 by an easy smile, his manner had changed with 
 his habits, and scarcely ever could Robert remem- 
 ber to have seen a gentleman at his age who had 
 fewer of the dirty appendages of seventy. With 
 a good appetite, seeing he was most heartily wel- 
 come, he began his dinner ; and although the fire 
 burned brightly, and the sherry and the port were 
 produced, he never once made a remark upon the 
 extravagance of the repast. He asked if Robert 
 was generally as comfortable as he appeared to be ; 
 and being assured that he had made no addition 
 to his dinner, the stranger expressed himself 
 pleased, and his heart soon began to warm with 
 the wine. 
 
 The frugal fare finished, Robert begged him 
 to accept of a large arm-chair, and to turn towards 
 the fire. They drew the table a little nearer, and
 
 22 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 placing the port \\'ine within reach of both, 
 might have challenged the world to have shown 
 a happier couple, at least in appearance. It was 
 one of those delectable December evenings when 
 the rain seemed to come from a fireman's engine, 
 and falling with such regularity on the windows, 
 that a novice might fancy the winter was employ- 
 ed to wash away the dust of the summer, and 
 that the task was not easily performed. 
 
 " I have not known for five years the pleasure 
 I experience at this moment,"*' began the stranger: 
 " a kind calm satisfaction steals over my heart, 
 and life, which this morning I would have laid 
 down without paying a doctor's fee to have avoid- 
 ed so doing, now seems worth preserving. It is 
 five years since I lost my only child : he was six- 
 and-twenty years of age, and a handsomer man 
 breathed not in Europe. From that hour I be- 
 came a weed thrown upon the wide ocean of ex- 
 istence, if carried by the current north or south 
 I cared not ; I wandered over the world a poor 
 old miserable being, I hated the society of men, 
 and I dreaded that of the other sex ; I he- 
 came indifferent as to my dress, the luxuries of
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 23 
 
 life I detested, and when I heard the laugh and 
 merriment of others, I flew from it like a stricken 
 deer with the barbed arrow rankling in its side. 
 For five years I have never felt the ease, the 
 comfort, the relief of the load I carried, that I do 
 at this minute ; and such is the extraordinary 
 change which has crept over me, that I hardly 
 feel inclined to hold up the mirror to you which 
 before dinner I had promised to produce, in order 
 to warn you from the dreadful, dangerous path of 
 gambling." 
 
 Robert begged the stranger on no account to 
 return to his sorroAvs, but if possible to forget 
 them, and for once afford him the gratification of 
 believing that he had been instrumental to his 
 happiness. 
 
 '' No, no," he replied ; " we have all our duties 
 to perform in this life, and mine is to save the 
 purchase of experience in others. And now to my 
 task: the story is long, the subject is painful, but 
 the moral is good. 
 
 " After my having remained," he began, "a ba- 
 chelor until I was fifty-five years of age, I conceived 
 a violent passion for a lady of thirty, who at the 
 
 M
 
 24 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 expiration of six weeks became my wife. About a 
 year after my marriage, my wife was safely delivered 
 of a male child, which was christened Henry. His 
 early youth was not distinguished by any very par- 
 ticular circumstance : he grew up to manhood 
 without being a poet at twelve, or a sailor at thir- 
 teen. The great error / made ; and that was, not 
 obliging him to have a profession. I had in 
 India amassed an ample fortune, and the settle- 
 ments on my wife, which must have descended to 
 him, were sufficient to have gratified the vanity of 
 even a nobleman. To this first error of mine I 
 am inclined to attribute all the mischief which 
 followed his steps. There is no mistake more fatal 
 than the encouragement of idleness : it is, as the 
 copy says, the root of all evil, I never knew an 
 idle man who, if he escaped burthening his neigh- 
 bours, avoided being vicious : the mind that is not 
 directed to one object, generally neglects all, or 
 only flippantly skims the surface over which it 
 hurries. The first consequence of idleness was 
 love. Love, as Johnson says, has no power but 
 over those it finds unemployed : so it occurred 
 that my son Henry at the age of nineteen ima-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 25 
 
 gined himself in love with the second daughter 
 of a respectable clergyman, who was encumbered 
 with a large family, and not a very ample for- 
 tune. On my discovering this fatal step, I op- 
 posed all the authority of a parent. It has been 
 urged by some authors, that, providing no blot 
 is upon the fair fame of the lady, and that an 
 equality of birth is beyond a doubt, the parent 
 has no sufficient grounds for withholding his con- 
 sent : but the man who first circulated this erro- 
 neous doctrine contributed his portion of mis- 
 chief to the world ; for if the law does not con- 
 sider the act of a minor valid, it is because that 
 law imagines the mind not sufficiently formed, 
 and consequently leaves him under the direction 
 of the parent. The more I opposed this foolish 
 match, the more resolutely he maintained his de- 
 termination to gain his point. I loved — dearly, 
 fondly loved him, and his mother doted with 
 maternal affection on her offspring : never had we 
 differed in opinion, and now we both was the 
 ruin of our son from this ill-placed affection. 
 He argued, and justly, that the daughter of a 
 clergyman of the Established Church was equal 
 
 VOL, I. C
 
 26 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 to any man in rank ; and in this, as I am no ievel- 
 ler of the church, no overthrower of its ancient esta- 
 blishment, no violator of its rights or purloiner 
 of its wealth, I fully and frankly acknowledged 
 it was the youth of both parties, and their exact 
 equality of age, which caused my dissent : for al- 
 though the woman may be of a sufficient age at 
 nineteen, and it is dangerous in most cases to 
 allow them a settled plan of life before marriage, 
 and although I would rather they married at that 
 age or twenty than any other, yet I did not 
 consider this argument as applicable to my son ; 
 for no man should marry until he is past his 
 thirty-fourth year; — the mind is then properly 
 formed, the dearly-bought experience of youth 
 will guide him steadily through life, and his 
 affections, not the hasty ebullition of youth, will 
 be lasting and sincere : besides which, at the age 
 of forty the woman would be verging upon wrin- 
 kles, whilst the man would be in the prime of life. 
 I took a middle path, — since I found objection, 
 positive objection — only likely to hasten the event. 
 I proposed that they should wait until he was of 
 age, and then, if their minds and aiFections re-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 27 
 
 mained unaltered, I would celebrate his arriving 
 at maturity and his marriage on the same day. 
 In the mean time he was to travel abroad, and 
 thus rub off a little of the rust which seemed to 
 clog his understanding. 
 
 " This plan appeared to give general satisfaction, 
 and my son, after vowing all vows of constancy, 
 departed with a friend, an old schoolfellow, but 
 who was nearly eight years his senior in life, 
 for the alleged purpose of crossing to France 
 and extending his trip to Italy. I blessed him 
 at parting, his mother hung upon his neck, the 
 tears of all were shed abundantly, and even 
 now — but I am childish and childless — I can- 
 not restrain these burning drops which course 
 so rapidly down my poor old furrowed face. 
 He had never deceived me, he had never told 
 me a falsehood, — he had ever been candid, 
 ingenuous, open. He promised to remain abroad 
 for two years ; he had unlimited credit — in short, 
 there was nothing left undone which could be 
 done to render him comfortable and respectable. 
 Imagine, sir,'' — said the old man, his face crimson- 
 ipg with vexation, " imagine, I say, my horror, 
 
 c2
 
 2S WALSINGHAM, 
 
 my surprise, my disgust, — most undisguised 
 disgust, •when I heard that the carriage I had 
 purchased for his comfort, that very night con- 
 tained the person he had abjured for two years ; 
 and that, instead of the Continent, he had taken 
 the North road, was married, and most seri- 
 ously repentant before a week had elapsed : 
 
 ' The lovely toy so fiercely sought, 
 Had lost its charm by being caught,' 
 
 as Byron says ; he found himself shackled, ham- 
 pered, tied to a stake for life. 
 
 '' Repentance ever comes too late ; but his 
 was sincere. He wrote a most affectionate letter, 
 praying us to forgive him, and I need scarcely 
 say that we did so : he and his bride were re- 
 ceived into our house, — for we thought it more 
 advisable to guide his mind in the right way 
 than to leave it to the meanderings of its own 
 fickleness. They managed the first two months 
 pretty well, the families became intimate, and 
 I found in the excellent disposition and well- 
 informed mind of the clergyman everything to 
 admire. It was, however, about this time that 
 both parties spoke often of a Continental trip, 
 and once more was the carriage laden for that
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 29 
 
 route. As his allowances were large, there was 
 no occasion to starve the cause. We saw them 
 go with hope and spirit, high and fresh : they 
 started, and arrived safe in that sink of iniquity, 
 Paris. 
 
 " It is but justice to say that Henry was 
 as idle as the father of all mischief could have 
 wished. His mode of life was disreputable in 
 the extreme : he could not study, but he would lie 
 for hours on the sofa smoking those abominations, 
 cigars. Rolled up in a fanciful dressing-gown, with 
 yellow slippers — and even Turkish in imagination, 
 I verily believe he esteemed it a crime to ' think'' — 
 hour after hour of the most brilliant part of 
 life was consumed in this dirty, disgusting, un- 
 manly habit, and one might as well have slept 
 on the counter of a tobacconist's shop as reclined 
 a head upon his pillow. Nothing tends more 
 to ensure love than decency and cleanliness : Swift 
 has said — 
 
 * If decency brings no supplies 
 Opinion falls, and beauty dies ;' 
 
 and the man who indulges in the misnamed 
 gratification of putting the smoke into his mouth 
 for one moment in order to puff it out the next.
 
 30 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 must find a partner equally ignorant with the 
 Turkish women, and equally under authority, to 
 either sanction or allow it. 
 
 " She was one taught to place all confidence 
 in her husband ; and whilst her eyes were dazzled 
 with the gaudiness of my son''s equipage, and the 
 homage paid to her beauty, she overlooked the 
 annoyance which then she could not appreciate. 
 But now she lived in an atmosphere of tobacco ; 
 she was haunted by the idle footsteps of her 
 husband; he lounged about the rooms like an 
 unquiet spirit ; he could neither devote an hour 
 to a book, or a quarter to a letter ; he resembled 
 an everlasting steam-boat in motion, and was 
 winded afar from his smoke and his smell. But 
 still there was no sin in him ; the vice, the radical 
 root was in his heart, and he soon felt its in- 
 fluence. ' My dear,"* said his wife to him, 
 ' why don^t you go out and amuse yom'self ? 
 surely Paris has novelty, — novelty is always de- 
 sirable ; go, my dear, to Pere Lachaise, the 
 Louvre, or wander amongst this gay people on 
 the Boulevards."* — ' Not I,' he would answer ; 
 ' I have no curiosity to see a few bedizened
 
 THE RUTNED GAMESTER. 31* 
 
 grave-stones, or to read the general lying epitaphs 
 with which every mother thinks fit to compli- 
 ment her son, or every daughter to daub for a 
 parent. What am I to see in the Louvre but 
 a parcel of pictures ? and to be obliged to turn 
 over a catalogue to find out the subject. Be- 
 sides, if I had no other objection but the fol- 
 lowing, — it would be fatal, they do not permit 
 smoking.' 
 
 " Poor Eliza, the best, the tenderest, the 
 most enchanting of her sex, only responded by 
 a deep sigh : she looked at him, she watched 
 the working of his countenance, and in spite of 
 her general guarded manner, a smile of pity 
 crossed her face. ' Ay, ay, I see,"* said my 
 son, ' you are getting preciously tired of mc, 
 and think, no doubt, that there is some truth 
 in the proverb, '' Marry in haste, and repent 
 at leisure.''"' I wish that child of yours was 
 born, and then you would have something to 
 mind, without bothering me by your observa- 
 tions and advice. Oh, Lord ! how thankful I 
 should be if some Christian of my acquaintance 
 would come to this cursed outlandish place ! — Ah,
 
 *S2 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 now you cry ! Why, what the devil have I said 
 to make you cry ? Is this your love ? is this 
 the way you are pleased to show your content- 
 ment ? — or rather, is this the mode by which you 
 seek to upbraid me ?"* 
 
 " The poor little wife said not a word, but 
 she hastily endeavoured to dry her eyes and to 
 force a smile upon her cheeks ; but Nature was 
 true to herself, and deception had not learned to 
 conquer her. ' Well,"* said my son, ' since my 
 presence gives you pain, I will relieve you by 
 my absence.' — ' What time, my dear, will you 
 return to dinner?' said that charming creature. 
 ' Oh, six or eight, or perhaps not at all,"* was 
 the reply. ' Why, are you so dependant upon 
 me, that you must have me to feed you, or to 
 tickle you ? I believe it is true, that " women 
 are but children of a larger growth." There is a 
 looking-glass and a sugar-plum, and you ought 
 to be in paradise."* With this unfeeling, inso- 
 lent remark, he had his great-coat placed upon 
 his shoulders, his gloves given him ; but he ac- 
 tually exerted himself so much, that he placed 
 his own hat on his own head.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 33 
 
 " I have merely mentioned this conversation in 
 order to show that boys are not intended for 
 husbands, and that a person ought to know his 
 own mind before he seeks to govern others. 
 Love is a very pretty moth ; but each touch 
 brushes away its beauties. — However, to proceed. 
 
 " On that fatal day when the conversation 
 above mentioned took place, it did occur that 
 my son found one of his schoolfellows. He seems 
 to have rejoiced in an excuse to be absent from 
 his wife, with whom he was thoroughly satiated ; 
 and that evening, after dining with his friend, he 
 attended a soiree given by the mother, and there 
 saw the sister, a girl of about seventeen, desciib- 
 ed as lovely in the extreme. His mind, without 
 occupation, soon gave way to the new pleasure 
 of this girFs society ; he remained until the last, 
 he hardly quitted her for a moment, and when he 
 retraced his steps to his hotel, situated in the Rue 
 Richelieu, he had already entertained thoughts 
 which were too sure to ripen in the soil which 
 only received one object. In the mean time his 
 expenses were increased — presents were purchas- 
 ed of great value, and after two or three weeks 
 
 c5
 
 34 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 almost living in his friend's house, and having per- 
 fectly neglected his home, his wife, his all — but 
 his cigar, and having driven this new attachment 
 to the very Pere Lachaise and Louvre he before 
 despised, it was evident that his heart had re- 
 ceived an impression very likely to erase that 
 occasioned by the charms of his wife. 
 
 " Meantime, the gentle, meek Eliza was slowly 
 recovering the sight of which love had deprived 
 her : she found herself perfectly neglected, for 
 when in her society, he was invariably hasty, 
 morose, unkind, ungrateful. It was her letter 
 to her sister that first gave me uneasiness ; for al- 
 though I had watched with some alarm the in- 
 creased amount of his expenditure, yet as he 
 never had mentioned one word on the subject of 
 gambling, I confess I did not anticipate the 
 storm about to burst over our heads. In the letter 
 written by Eliza to her sister, there was a marked 
 difference of manner : instead of the gay and 
 animated description — the numerous retailings of 
 anecdotes, the follies and the fashions, with which 
 the letters of ladies are usually filled, it was a cold 
 production, in which it was evident that appre-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 35 
 
 hension had triumphed over aiFection ; but there 
 was such lurking love, and such fear of losing it, 
 that when it was shown to me, I remember being 
 obliged to leave the room to avoid the expres- 
 sion of my fears. That letter I have preserved, and 
 here it is. I preserved it in the first instance 
 from admiration of the writer ; and now, as a 
 reproach to myself for not having instantly cross- 
 ed the water to have reclaimed my son. But 
 parents are as blind as lovers, and we are slow 
 to believe what we wish to discredit. I will read 
 it to you : it is in vain you would urge me to 
 desist ; it is a punishment I owe myself, and a 
 warning I owe to you.**^ He then read as 
 follows : — 
 
 "Paris. 
 " My ever dearest Mary, 
 
 " My last letter, written one short week since, 
 was penned under very different circumstances 
 from this : the excitement occasioned by visiting 
 strange places, of listening to a strange people, 
 and of following strange fashions, is passed ; now 
 I feel quite tired of the place and the peo- 
 ple, and find myself alone in the midst of a
 
 36 WALSINGHAM 
 
 populous city. But it is quite the contrary with 
 Henry, who at first remained entirely at home, 
 but now is estranged from it. His mornings, 
 noons, and almost his nights, are spent with a fa- 
 mily of the name of Stanhope ; the brother of his 
 admiration having been an old schoolfellow of 
 Henry's, who is just emancipated from his col- 
 lege. I cannot tell you how painfully jealous 
 I have become ; for I see — even /see a total altera- 
 tion of his manner. Instead of the eager morn- 
 ing salutations, the constant kind attention, and 
 the unremitted affection, I find him cold, re- 
 served, silent, and sometimes angry. He seems 
 to have left me entirely ; or when I am so fortu- 
 nate as to occupy one moment's conversation, I 
 am sure to hear of the charms, the uririvalled 
 charms of this Louisa. Had tliis blow come 
 suddenly, I should have sunk under it ; but it 
 has approached gradually, and I as gradually 
 became habituated to his absence. In vain I 
 have asked him to return to, or let me return to 
 you ; for although I know I am wrong in even 
 asking to leave him, yet I feel I cannot much 
 longer bear this silent neglect without a mur-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 37 
 
 mur ; and, oh ! my dearest Mary, it is vain I 
 should attempt to describe the feelings which 
 creep over me. Oftentimes I think how foolish, 
 how weak, how woman-like are my fears ; be- 
 cause I see this girl surrounded by her family 
 and her brothers — they know that Henry is mar- 
 ried, and she likewise knows it, and yet I cannot 
 help feeling that they may be thrown off their 
 guard from the very knowlege of the fact. Then 
 that I, who adored him, loved him, cherished him, 
 — yes, my God ! that ever I can entertain fears of 
 his constancy or of his affection ! — I had written 
 thus far, when Henry came home, flushed with 
 animation, and in a humour to which he has 
 long been a stranger. It appears that Mr. Stan- 
 hope took him to a place called Frascati's, and 
 that Henry, who has not the smallest inclination 
 to gamble, threw down a napoleon, — a kind of fee 
 Avhich he thought requisite to pay for his intru- 
 sion, on a table, the name of the game being 
 strange to him. After walking about the room 
 quite heedless of the stake, he returned to the 
 table, and was astonished to find a heap of gold 
 and notes lying there. One of the servants of the
 
 38 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 establishment pointed to the money, and told 
 him that his original stake had doubled itself to 
 that amount ; upon •which he very wisely with- 
 drew, and came home in so good a humour that 
 I almost wish he would occasionally visit that 
 place, of which previously to this day I had con- 
 ceived the most serious horror. His winnings 
 amounted to five hundred and twelve napoleons, 
 the colour on which he placed his napoleon hav- 
 ing won nine times following. — But, Mary, to 
 think for one moment that the paltry sum above 
 mentioned, and which by his signature he may 
 procure every day of the week, should have ren- 
 dered him happy, and excited him so much, is 
 another painful idea. Everything seems to please 
 him, however trifling, but myself; — ^and yet I am 
 ungrateful in my thoughts, for he kissed me fer- 
 vently just now, and is going, dear good fellow ! 
 to dine at home to-day, and his young friend is 
 coming also. — The fashions of the day are still 
 the same,** &c. &c. 
 
 " The rest of the letter,'' said the old gentle- 
 man, folding up the despatch, "is on the subjects 
 on which ladies generally write one to another, — •
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 39 
 
 family news, bonnets, new-invented gloves, and 
 a treasure of a shoemaker or a lady's maid ; but 
 in the part I have read to you, you will trace 
 the first false step since his marriage ; — you will 
 see that, having married before his mind was 
 ripened into a steady affection, before he could 
 appreciate the devotion of one of the most lovely 
 of her sex, he had given way to a new passion, 
 he had allowed his heart to lean towards another, 
 and he had taught himself to believe that his 
 wife was not necessary to his happiness. This 
 strong excitement remained until gambling, like a 
 stronger poison, drove out, or for a moment killed, 
 the other; and you will find that in destroying 
 partially the second love, it entirely quenched the 
 first, and left his wife a prey to anguish and 
 to distrust."
 
 40 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The old gentleman was considerably exliaust- 
 ed, and he required some stimulant to recover him. 
 Robert therefore recommended the wine ; and 
 after wiping his eyes and drinking a glass, he start- 
 ed afresh with his anecdote, and thus continued : 
 
 "It appears that after the dinner mention- 
 ed in the letter, Henry and his friend agreed 
 to visit the gambling-houses in the Palais Royal, 
 finishing the evening at the Salon, the father of 
 all the mischief. The same games were played 
 at all, until he found himself ushered into the 
 splendid apartments of the Salon des Strangers. 
 Here was a round table on which hazard was 
 played, and here my son took a seat, and re- 
 mained in it until two o''clock in the morning. 
 At first he was again successful, but latterly he 
 lost back all he had won, with some trifle besides.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 41 
 
 *' He returned to his wife about three o'clock. 
 She had remained awaiting his arrival : although 
 under all the pain and all the sickness to which 
 women are subject during pregnancy, yet was 
 she resolved to prove her devotion to him be- 
 yond a doubt, — even in a gambler's mind. Find- 
 ing her still in the saloon, Henry, so far from 
 being grateful for the attention, rebuked her 
 for her folly, and in a tone of voice at once 
 authoritative and ungenerous, he desired her to 
 go to bed. His manner was that of an enraged 
 lyrant ; he walked hastily to and fro in the room, 
 and when she lingered, he even threatened to push 
 her from his presence. 
 
 " ' Never, never, dearest Henry, did I expect,' 
 she said, ' to hear such words from your lips ! — 
 never, when I gave you my hand at the altar, 
 did I imagine that six months afterwards you 
 would spurn me from you ! I know your good- 
 ness of heart, and I feel that your own words will 
 be a greater rebuke to your mind than any I 
 could utter even if I would. Kiss me, dearest, 
 and I will go. I have been in great pain, and I 
 watched the hand of that little watch, your first
 
 42 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 present to me, hoping for your return ; but now 
 you are not what you were, or I should not have 
 had to solicit that little mark of affection which 
 even now you withhold.' 
 
 '' He looked at her apparently more in sorrow 
 than in anger, whilst she with her bed candle in 
 one hand advanced the other to his shoulder, 
 and holding her pretty face as inviting him to 
 kiss her, she remained watching the working of 
 his countenance, whilst the smile of hope which 
 played over her pale features might have tempted 
 the most obdurate. 
 
 " ' Go, go,' he said, pushing her gently from 
 him, — ' go ; and when next you feel indisposed, 
 you had better sleep, than spy upon your hus- 
 band.' She burst into tears, and left the room. 
 Ah, fatal is the word, the voice of unkindness 
 upon the heart of the truly affectionate ! How 
 many a man has unintentionally uttered what 
 his pride forbade him to recall ! and how many 
 are made miserable by the mere intonation of 
 voice in the person they love ! In vain she en- 
 deavoured to conceal her distress — her agitation 
 of mind produced a serious sickness, and before 
 three days had witnessed the inattention of Henry
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 43 
 
 to a sick wife by day, and his absence by night, 
 his hope of becoming a father had vanished, 
 and the prospect of being a widower was more 
 than probable. To me he even neglected to 
 write an account of the accident which had occur- 
 red ; and although his wife constantly sent the 
 maid to urge him to this filial duty, yet love, 
 and affection, and duty, and propriety, were dead 
 within him, and all were buried in the gambler's 
 mind. She recovered slowly, for she was reserved 
 for many sorrows : — 
 
 * Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet.' 
 
 From the fall of hope in regard to being a 
 mother, she fell into a low state of sickness : the 
 indifference — the growing indifference amounting 
 almost to hatred in her husband, the reso- 
 lution with which she endeavoured to bear it, 
 soon completely undermined her beauty and sap- 
 ped her health ; the attractive powers she once 
 possessed were gone, and she had no entice- 
 ment to lure back her fugitive husband but her 
 voice, and he seldom came within the reach 
 of -that soft persuasive woman, to be recalled 
 from his erroneous path. She wrote another
 
 44 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 letter to Mary, in which she more plainly allud- 
 ed to the severed affection of her husband, and 
 once more she mentioned the name of Louisa 
 Stanhope ; but it was more than evident that 
 she entertained some fears that although gam- 
 bling might have alienated the affections of Henry 
 from herself, yet that Louisa still occupied some 
 portion of his thoughts and time was certain. 
 This letter was never shown to me ; it was agreed 
 by my daughter-in-law's family that I should only 
 become incensed still more against my son, and they 
 looked forward with hope that the influence of 
 their sister might still prove to be of some avail. 
 
 " Li a few words I shall draw you the character 
 of Louisa Stanhope. Of her beauty — that fatal 
 gift, I shall merely say, that as much perfection 
 as the painter's art could throw into the form 
 and face of Venus might be found in her. She 
 was rather dark in complexion, her hair and eyes 
 being as black as night ; every feature was correct, 
 and her mouth has been even represented as sur- 
 passing that of any other woman alive. Her educa- 
 tion had been neglected — she had been poisoned by 
 novels. However light the trash, so long as it con-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 45 
 
 tained a love-story, on this she fed and fattened. 
 To her, the man who smoked, swore, and gam- 
 bled, was perfection ; and she in vain imagined 
 that the hero of romance could be concealed in 
 the demure look, the cautious expressions, and 
 the timid manner, which might cover the ge- 
 nerous and affectionate disposition of mind, or 
 the bold and determined courage of the heart. 
 Henry was exactly to her imagination ; in him 
 were all the accomplishments of such flippant 
 folly in perfection : he was handsome, and, like 
 most gamblers, generous ; he was bold, forward, 
 authoritative. It is strange how women like such 
 men, for they would rather be governed than 
 courted, and he who is bold in love will very 
 seldom fail of success : your timid man always is 
 rebuked ; your bold man, who seems to have for 
 his motto, ' They can conquer who believe they 
 can," is the surest of his love. Louisa saw, and 
 loved him : the impediment of marriage was no 
 bar to her affections ; she had read of happiness 
 obtained even by such rashness, and the more 
 (he danger, the more she seemed to court it ; 
 she encouraged him, she clandestinely accepted
 
 46 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 his presents, and he soon made her the deposi- 
 tory of every sentiment of his heart. He was 
 now perfectly estranged from his wife, he even 
 told her that she was painful to his sight. The 
 climax of her woes was fast approaching: for 
 two days and two nights she never heard or 
 saw him ; the fourth brought her a letter without 
 any date, desiring her to return to her parents, 
 as he never more intended to see her. The letter 
 mentioned that Louisa Stanhope, now with him, 
 would for ever share his heart, his fortune, and his 
 affections.^ This, which would have killed others, 
 partially restored her to strength and temporary 
 health. Without writing one word, she immedi- 
 ately left Paris. She arrived in England, and 
 hastening to the quiet retreat of her father, she 
 drove to the house about nine o'clock, at which 
 time the pious father had assembled his family and 
 his servants, and was imploring the great God of 
 all to shower down his blessings upon mankind. 
 No sooner was she liberated from the carriage, 
 than she rushed like a maniac to the long-lmown 
 room ; and as her father was about, in rather a 
 subdued tone, to supplicate the protection of his
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 47 
 
 Maker, the door was violently tlirown open, and 
 a loud shriek announced her presence. That 
 shriek was re-echoed by all : there, in the midst of 
 them, stood a being unknown to any; her features 
 were half concealed by the disordered hair, and 
 though visible, were so altered by care and sick- 
 ness, that the parent knew not his own, or the 
 sister the being of her affection. ' 'Tis me, His 
 Eliza,' she cried, and fell down prostrate on the 
 floor : ' oh, save me ! for I am all alone."* She 
 fainted, and fortunately she did so, for such was 
 the horror of the scene, that had it continued none 
 could have borne it. What followed is beyond 
 description ; the scene of woe, of misery, of sor- 
 row, baffles all words, all power of delineation. 
 
 " She was removed instantly, and two days 
 elapsed before we knew the worst. I was sent 
 for directly, but I was forbidden to see her, — 
 the medical gentleman strictly desired that none 
 should be admitted but her mother ; and rather 
 would I that she never had returned to reason, 
 and to comparative health, than have heard from 
 the mouth of my daughter-in-law — from her who 
 was like my own flesh and blood, the base, un-
 
 48 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 manly, ungenerous, homble, and unnatural be- 
 haviour of my son — my only boy. Oh, never, 
 never shall I forget the feelings of that moment ! 
 I could have stabbed her and smiled, as she 
 poisoned the very stream of my existence : I 
 hated with such a hatred that no words can con- 
 vey, and in the bitter ravings of my maniac 
 heart I cursed her for ever and for ever ! The 
 very intellect with which God had endowed me 
 was deranged : the very son with which he had 
 blessed me was made a villain, too plainly to 
 admit of exculpation ; the very daughter whom 
 I loved as my own was the harbinger of my woe ! 
 '' I was conveyed home, and long did I linger 
 in a state which deprived me of the management 
 of my affairs or the remembrance of my sorrows : 
 during that time Eliza died. I have been told 
 that excess of grief may sometimes relieve the 
 patient, and that when misfortunes come so hea- 
 vily, the human heart can withstand the shock ; 
 but her fortitude was gone, and her love remain- 
 ed. She lingered and lingered : in vain the good 
 father attempted to administer consolation from 
 that source from which most can derive it; in
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 49 
 
 vain he pointed to Heaven, and prayed that his 
 daughter might receive the blessing of resolution 
 to \Aithstand the assault ; gradually and gradu- 
 ally life gently ebbed away ; she never spoke 
 from the moment that in my madness I cursed 
 her, but, surrounded by her family, she fixed her 
 steady gaze upon her mother, and sometimes 
 convulsively grasping her hand, she would endea- 
 vour to articulate. None could distinguish the 
 sounds ; the efforts grew weaker and weaker, and 
 seven days from the moment of her first discovery 
 of the cause she died without a struggle and 
 without a groan. 
 
 " It was six months from the time of her decease 
 before I was allowed to be made acquainted with 
 her death ; and from that moment has a cloud 
 hung over my happiness which no lightning will 
 ever dissipate. 1 will not sorrow you with my 
 sorrows, neither will I call more tears than those 
 which I have seen fall during the recital of my 
 anecdote from your eyes. Hard must be the 
 heart, and unenviably inclosed within itself, that 
 softens not at the miseries of age, or for the 
 misfortunes of the virtuous ; and he but faintly 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 can appreciate the pleasures of life, who neither 
 participates in the woes of others, or whose 
 heart is hardened against the misfortunes of his 
 friend. 
 
 " To resume my story, now growing towards its 
 gi-eatest interest. When I was permitted to resume 
 the management of my affairs, I found four letters 
 from my bankers, mentioning my account being 
 OYerdrawn by several thousands of pounds. Aware 
 that I could always replace the same at a mo- 
 ment, I heeded not the intelligence half so 
 much as I did the cause of this lavish expen- 
 diture. To me my son had never written since 
 his scandalous alliance with that shameless wo- 
 man : I knew not where he was, and I hardly 
 knew how to find him. It occurred to me that 
 by stopping his income I should insure detection 
 of his abode ; and accordingly, having seen that 
 he it was who had drawn such immense sums dur- 
 ing so small a space of time, I wrote to my bank- 
 ers, desiring them to inform Henry that I saw 
 no longer any occasion for such an income as 
 he had appropriated to his use, and that I should 
 stop every supply until he returned to me. This
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER, 51 
 
 letter sealed his fate. But it is requisite that 
 I retrace my steps, in order to make you master 
 of the subject. 
 
 " When my son first accomplished his design, 
 he retii-ed to Versailles with the sister of his 
 most intimate friend ; but, knowing that I should 
 take such steps as to force him to return to his 
 wife, he that day drew a check for the amount 
 of four thousand pounds. On receiving it, the 
 bankers -wrote me a letter, mentioning the large- 
 ness of the sum. This letter arrived the very day 
 that I was torn from the dying-bed of my daugh- 
 ter, and it remained unopened until the expira- 
 tion of the six months above mentioned, — -the 
 bankers in the mean time having paid it. Shak- 
 speare says, 
 
 * Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. 
 Or bends with the remover to remove ;' 
 
 and I have never found that great man to be 
 in error. The love so suddenly transferred to 
 Louisa was not destined to be of very long dura- 
 tioir. Even now he should have controlled his 
 feelings more than in marriage, for he had ruined 
 this second object of his heart for ever ; and 
 
 d2 
 
 UNIVERSITY Of 
 liUmiS LIBRARY
 
 52 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 the only resource she could hope for, by which 
 her own wounded pride might be partially re- 
 lieved, was in his unalterable affection and kind- 
 ness towards her. This I say — this reflection 
 should have occupied his thoughts, for he had 
 the power of applying an antidote to the worst 
 of poisons. It is no trifling act for a woman 
 to do, to leave her friends, her parents, her 
 sisters, her reputation, her name, and all for love. 
 The man who consents to this wholesale ruin 
 i§ doubly bound to be true to her, or to shelter 
 her; and he who, having deprived the casket 
 of the jewel which was within it, leaves 
 the casket to the world''s scorn and obloquy, 
 is such a villain that no pencil can portray, 
 or I describe — the female world will excuse any 
 sin but this. Even the charms of beauty with 
 which Louisa had been cursed were not suffici- 
 ently powerful to enchain the affections of Henry ; 
 for he became ashamed of himself, and heartily 
 disgusted with his own conduct. The papers 
 had conveyed to him the intelligence of the death 
 of his wife ; and as his heart still beat with 
 existence, a little remorse mingled itself in the
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 53 
 
 cup of pleasure, of which already he had drunk 
 to intoxication and satiety. With her he mastered 
 his feelings ; but with the return to sobriety 
 came the wish for the greater excitement of gam- 
 bling. As the family of the Stanhopes still re- 
 mained in Paris, he felt very insecure in his ope- 
 rations there, for the young gentleman who initi- 
 ated him. hung round the table like a fly to 
 carrion ; and Henry, fearful — for guilt is always 
 timid — of detection, removed his victim to Spa, 
 a place which at that time was filled by fashion- 
 able idlers, inexorable swindlers, and determined 
 gamblers. There he occupied rooms in the Hotel 
 de Flandre, certainly the best in the place : the 
 lady took his name, and they were received as 
 man and wife. Here it was that the first re- 
 crimination occurred between them, and it arose 
 from hope being suddenly blighted. Louisa 
 Stanhope, who, when she first absconded from her 
 home, was often heard to say, 
 
 * Not Caesar's P'.mpress would I deign to prove : 
 No ! make me mistress to the man I love/ 
 
 Yet now that the obstacle to their legal union 
 was removed, she felt that the performance of
 
 54 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 that duty would most materially tend to soften 
 lier feelings, and would in some measure restore 
 her to the path from which she had swerved. 
 The common people say, it is ' making an honest 
 woman ;' but, honest or not, she felt that she 
 usurped a name which did not belong to her, 
 and that Henry, who had ten thousand times 
 declared that in the event of his wife's death 
 he would marry her, would likewise experience 
 some pleasure in the fulfilment of his word. But 
 Henry had become a villain, and even now would 
 rather have shaken off the burthen which he felt 
 encumbered him. Still she loved as few women ever 
 loved ; his voice was to her sweet music, his smile 
 was a rapture ; and when he fixed his eyes on 
 hers, she was like the bird fascinated by the 
 snake. 
 
 " ' Henry, dearest Henry,' she said one morn- 
 ing as the bell of the Catholic church, close 
 to the hotel, swung its deep tones over the valley 
 of Spa, ' that bell might remind you of a 
 promise you have as yet failed to fulfil, but 
 which I know I have only to mention, and you 
 will gratify my not unreasonable or unjust re-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 55 
 
 quest. You remember, dearest,' she said, as 
 she laid her open hand upon his shoulder, — ' you 
 remember that under the promise of a future 
 marriage I consented to forfeit my own and the 
 world's esteem. How I have felt this none could 
 tell ; but now I feel that by being placed in 
 the proper position of your wife, I should be more 
 happy and contented, than as a walking false- 
 hood, one who calls herself what she is not, and 
 who adds to her former crimes by imposing wil- 
 fully on others. It is true that the year which 
 is generally spent in mourning has not yet 
 elapsed : but our union can be private ; and, 
 as you have long since laid aside the crape and 
 the gloves of outward show, you can easily over- 
 come the fashionable feeling, in the good and 
 honourable action you would perform.' 
 
 " ' Ay ?' replied Henry. 
 
 " Struck a little by the insufferable coolness, 
 she again repeated the proposition ; when the 
 unfeeling fellow replied, 
 
 " 'Nonsense, my dear, nonsense ! how can you 
 be married at this place ? It is true there is a 
 church in Vauxhall ; but there is no bishop for
 
 56 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 a licence, and no priest to perform the ceremony. 
 Perhaps you wish me to turn Catholic, and get 
 wedded in that outlandish-looking place opposite ? 
 Be patient, my dear."* 
 
 " ' Patient, Henry, I have been, and still must 
 be. There, don't look so displeased, and I -will 
 not remind you of it again here. But if you knew 
 how conscience sometimes awakes the slumbering 
 virtue which still remains in me — if you did but 
 know the satisfaction I should experience by my 
 release from my present degradation, you would 
 be the first to lighten the burden I bear, and to 
 restore me to cheerfulness and to myself. Thank 
 Heaven, we are taught that repentance, though 
 late, may be acceptable ; and I am fully aware 
 how seriously I have injured my parents and my 
 family by the fatal step I took, and in which I 
 am now persevering."* 
 
 " ' I think, my dear,' replied Henry, ' you 
 had better volunteer to preach next Sunday : 
 you would make out a capital case, as the 
 lawyers say. There, don''t bother me now ; for 
 I am sadly out of humour by the eternal run
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 57 
 
 of ill-luck which seems to follow me wherever 
 I go.' 
 
 " ' And if you could but make home your re- 
 sidence, that annoyance would cease, and you 
 be happy/ 
 
 " ' Never,' he replied ; ' that is gone for ever : 
 and so, like Goldsmith, " I must make that hap- 
 piness I cannot find."" 
 
 " ' But why night after night pursue the same 
 fatal occupation ? Already have you lost two thou- 
 sand pounds, and our expenses here are daily 
 augmenting : cannot you wean yourself from 
 that which only occasions hours of uneasiness, 
 sleepless nights, and ruined health ?' 
 
 *' ' I wish most sincerely I could,** replied my 
 son, looking significantly at Louisa ; ' 1 confess I 
 should be happier if I could divest my mind 
 and myself from their incumbrances.'' Saying 
 which, he turned round and walked out of the 
 room. 
 
 " It is a duty I owe Louisa, to confess she was 
 a woman very far above the common run of the 
 sex. To a mind naturally strong, but unfortu-
 
 58 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 nately with a wrong bias, she joined a sweet- 
 ness of disposition, a patience under sufferings, 
 a calmness in danger, and a courage in adversity, 
 which would make a hero in a man ; but she 
 was a woman still, and she felt the neglect, the 
 cutting allusion, the cool disregard, most poi- 
 gnantly. It appears that her family had traced 
 her, and had written to her, offering again to 
 receive her ; and although she tore the letter 
 into the smallest pieces, and more fervently kissed 
 a small miniature of Henry, yet she could not 
 help contrasting the difference between the kind 
 and affectionate letter of those she had deceived, 
 and the harsh, unmanly, unwarrantable language 
 in him who had deceived her : for very 
 plainly she saw that her marriage was not 
 likely to take place for months, if at all ; and 
 that she, like all other women who have swerved 
 from virtue, found herself tolerated rather than 
 beloved. With a resignation worthy of a better 
 cause, she resolved to wait the result of time ; 
 and, after retiring to her room, and weeping away 
 the first feeling of displeasure, she again occupied 
 her saloon in all the grandeur of solitude, and
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 59 
 
 there worked and worked until the hour of mid- 
 night, when my son returned. 
 
 " The diabolical scowl upon his countenance 
 checked the utterance of a welcome which was 
 already upon Louisa's lips. He threw his hat 
 aside, and throwing himself upon the sofa, gave 
 vent to his feelings in cursings and execrations 
 both loud and deep. He had lost, and lost hea- 
 vily, — indeed, so much as to distress him for 
 present purposes ; and thus the conversation which 
 followed was not likely to be conducive to peace 
 of mind to Louisa, or restoration of temper to 
 himself. 
 
 " * I have kept some tea for you, Henry, 
 my love,** said the affectionate girl, ' and I 
 would not go to bed until you returned, in 
 order that I might see you had it properly 
 made.' 
 
 " ' I had rather be without it,' he replied surlily ; 
 ' for although I believe myself to be as arrant 
 a villain as ever lived, yet I do not like to take 
 that for which I cannot pay.' 
 
 *' Louisa smiled and looked at him. 
 
 *' ' You smile, do you, little fool ! but it is
 
 60 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 no time for that now. I have lost every farthing 
 I have in the world ; — I most solemnly declare, 
 that if the crown of the greatest country in Europe 
 were mine if I could produce one napoleon, 
 most religiously do I aver that I have not the 
 wealth required to purchase it.^ 
 
 " ' Well,' replied Louisa, ' then I would soon 
 see the crown on Henry's head. Take my jewels, 
 those you so liberally gave me ; and though I 
 do not part with the smallest trifle you ever 
 oflfered me without regret, yet now, if there is 
 a necessity for the sacrifice, take them all. And 
 here is my watch, and all but this ring this 
 dear ring ; with this I cannot part until poverty 
 forces us from our roof, or Henry is unfaith- 
 ful/ 
 
 " ' There, there, Louisa, do not make such a 
 Jong speech about nothing : the jewels will be 
 useful for the present ; but as to the watch, 
 you can keep it — but for how long is a matter of 
 doubt."* 
 
 " ' Be careful, dearest, how you dispose of them, 
 or the report will be over this little place in a 
 moment."'
 
 THE R13INED GAMESTER. 61 
 
 "^ Thank you, madam^ for your advice. I dare 
 say you think me such a precious fool as to 
 stand at the hotel-door like a Jew pedlar, asking 
 the passers-by to purchase my wares. Go to 
 bed, do : whenever women talk of anything but 
 embroidery or bonnets, they invariably talk non- 
 sense. I shall go to Brussels to-morrow alone. 
 You will remain here ; and, by way of blinding 
 the most acute, you will make up the party of 
 which you have often talked, to the waterfall 
 of Coo. Spare no reasonable expense : I will 
 remit you some money from Brussels, and there I 
 shall again draw upon my father to some large 
 amount. Perhaps I may be obliged to go over 
 to England ; but I hope you have confidence 
 enough in me to know that under any circum- 
 stances I will never desert you. However, we 
 will talk over this to-morrow.' 
 
 " That morrow came. In vain Louisa endea- 
 voiu-ed to reconcile the parting, even for a day or 
 two, to herself. She felt that she was lost to 
 the world, an outcast from society ; and she knew 
 that the instant the bubble report that she was 
 Henry's wife burst, then she might seek some
 
 62 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 retreat farther from England, and endeavour 
 to linger out her life in solitude and prayer. 
 There was a heart-rending scene at parting. On 
 the part of my son, he seemed more wrapped up 
 in himself, his plans, and his determination to 
 obtain money from me. He regarded his mistress 
 as a log of impediment not easily removed. It 
 was at that moment his intention to have left 
 her for ever, and her quick perception discovered 
 it ; but she did not tax him with the thought, — 
 she merely implored him to consider what she 
 had done for the love of him, how solely she 
 depended upon his charity and his affection : and 
 as the tears trickled down her beautiful face, 
 she said, ' I could bear any calamity in life 
 but being separated from you. Oh, Henry, if 
 you could only imagine the dreary hours of ex- 
 pectation which I must while away — if you could 
 only feel the loneliness which now I feel, you 
 would not thus leave me, when my presence could 
 not impede your plans ! To your honour I have 
 ceded my own ; on that honour I know I can 
 with confidence trust ; and as you object to 
 my accompanying you, go, and may Heaven
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 63 
 
 restore you to me shortly ! My prayers, if a 
 sinner's offering can be acceptable, shall be for 
 you ; and happy beyond all expression of hap- 
 piness will the hour be that sees you return to
 
 64 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The old gentleman seemed to have recovered 
 his elasticity of spirits from the infusion of 
 some of mine, and he proceeded with his story. 
 The following is the account of that party 
 to Coo, which the old gentleman related to 
 Robert the following morning. 
 
 " The waterfall of Coo is about nine miles dis- 
 tant from Spa, and requires a little patience and 
 perseverance, a strong carriage and rather fat sides, 
 to accomplish the distance without either a frac- 
 ture of a bone or a break-down of the vehicle. 
 Although in the actual vicinity of this once cele- 
 brated and now almost deserted watering-place the 
 inhabitants have done much to attract the stranger 
 by cutting winding paths through the thick 
 trees which encircle the hills ; and although 
 they have two Vauxhalls, and a Redoute, in
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 65 
 
 the latter of which is the gambling and the 
 ball-room, the theatre and a restaurant ; yet 
 have they omitted to remember that men are 
 not sheep to be cooped up in a pen and never 
 to wander out of it. Spa may be seen at a 
 glance, and two long walks will show all that 
 civilization has done for the sickly and the idle : 
 it is without any exception the dullest abode 
 that ever I remembered to have selected in all 
 the years of my wandering life. 
 
 " According to all previous plans for a visit to 
 this waterfall, it was settled to dine there ; and 
 as Louisa had been instructed to give an am- 
 ple entertainment in order to blind suspicion, 
 three men were sent forward early in the 
 morning burthened with enough to poison a 
 whole parish. Every mixture which ingenuity 
 could twist into a resemblance to wine, with 
 very good names burnt upon the corks, and 
 very similar to champaign as far as seals, wax, 
 bottles, and colour, were concerned, was packed 
 up and sent ; whilst the principal actors, — all 
 of whom, excepting the ladies, had plundered or 
 been concerned in the plunder of Henry at the
 
 66 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 gaming-table, — now assisted to lighten his purse 
 by emptying the various bottles and swallowing 
 the numerous good things which the master of 
 the Hotel de Flandre had selected. 
 
 " The party set forward about ten in the morn- 
 ing, and soon left the regular ride which leads 
 to the three spas in the vicinity of the town, 
 to strike into an open country on which the 
 hand of agriculture has never been concerned. 
 Over these hills, which command a fine and 
 extensive view, the party proceeded, enlivened 
 occasionally by the bright sallies of wit of one 
 of the party, and roused into merriment from 
 the incessant dullness of another : in fact, one 
 was the butt, one was the target, at which the 
 sharp arrows of ridicule were directed, — and cer- 
 tainly they never fell thicker or more poisoned 
 than on that day. In vain, however, Louisa 
 endeavoured to hold up the head of cheerful- 
 ness ; she knew she was surrounded by those 
 whose exuberance of spirits arose from the 
 cause of her depression, and she looked at them 
 with the eye of undisguised distrust. To the ladies 
 she was particularly attentive, although she thought
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 67 
 
 a kind of distance was observed which previous 
 to the beginning of the party of pleasure was 
 never practised, and she very shortly account- 
 ed in her own mind for the change. 
 
 " She had observed a young man of my son's 
 acquaintance, who enjoyed all the luxury of 
 mustachios, and who never belonged to the 
 army, horse or foot, buzzing about from lady 
 to lady, and in low accents communicating some- 
 thing which seemed to attract particular atten- 
 tion. Louisa"'s quick eyes soon discovered that 
 she was the object of observation, and it re- 
 quired not the scrutiny of a clever woman to 
 remark that the frequent glances of the ladies 
 were not exactly of that tender sort amounting 
 to pity ; in fact, they conveyed an idea of dis- 
 dain. She needed not to probe her heart to 
 find a reason, yet she well knew that she was 
 herself unknown to the mischief-making swin- 
 dler, who had almost invited himself to the 
 party, and who now occupied his whole time 
 and ingenuity in making it a failure. The 
 ladies, as opportunities occurred, whispered to 
 each other ; some smiled at the intelligence, but
 
 68 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 others allowed their pretty faces to be clouded 
 by suspicion. The party was thus spoiled al- 
 most before it began ; and certainly, from 
 what did transpire, it was evident that had not 
 curiosity overcome propriety, one half would 
 have returned home without ever reaching the 
 waterfall. With the practised manner of a 
 woman of the world, Louisa pretended not to 
 heed either the whispers or the looks of her 
 company ; but summoning a false cheerfulness 
 she attracted the notice of the hairy-lipped 
 whisperer, and soon enticed him to ride near 
 her ; when she observed suddenly, ' that she 
 felt it as a bad compliment that his discourse 
 should have been directed to all of the party 
 to the exclusion of herself, and begged that she 
 might be made a partaker of his wit and his 
 news.** To this he responded quickly, by asking 
 ' if she was ever in Paris ?^ 
 
 " Had a thunderbolt fell at her side, it could 
 not have changed her features more. Unprepared 
 for the question, which in itself was nothing, 
 but in the manner of asking the secret, as she 
 imagined only of her own heart, her quickness
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 69 
 
 of mind was not sufficient to hasten the flow 
 of blood to her face, which remained as pale 
 as the figure of death on horseback. This did 
 not escape either the questioner or the listeners, 
 and, whatever might have been their suspicions 
 they were evidently confirmed. She rallied, how- 
 ever, and replied in the affirmative ; when the 
 itinerant vender of scandal rode close to her 
 side, and leaning familiarly towards her horse, 
 fixing his eyes upon his victim, he said in a low 
 voice quite inaudable to the rest, ' You were 
 married in Paris, I believe ?^ 
 
 " Although the young gentleman thought the 
 peculiar stress he had put upon the word mar- 
 ried would have elicited something confirmatory 
 of his suspicions, he was this time balked; for 
 Louisa, aware of what he might have said, and 
 seeing that the ladies were well within hearing, 
 said out loud, ' Yes, I was married in Paris ; 
 and I suppose you have been whispering to your 
 friends that I am a bride. This is ungenerous, 
 Mr. Cavendish, (for that was the name of the 
 mustachioed-monkey) thus to draw the eyes of 
 the party on me when I had so well concealed it
 
 70 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 myself. But, as they say the eye of a king or 
 a bride is fortunate, I hope my glance will render 
 you more lucky in your next whisper,' 
 
 " Even her own sex were deceived ; she uttered 
 the words coolly and collectedly, and in the 
 last few syllables conveyed a cut which even 
 the brazen audacity of this puppy could not 
 withstand. Whilst this was enacting on one 
 side, the cavalcade on the other were convulsed 
 with laughter; but Louisa felt that a blow had 
 been given to her respectability, that sooner or 
 later the bubble would burst, and she be un- 
 masked ; and whilst lost in the dreary abode of 
 her own heart, she gave way to the workings of 
 a wounded spirit, and the wit of the one or 
 the remark of another fell without effect upon her 
 ear. From this she was roused by Mr. Caven- 
 dish again saying that he thought my son would 
 be longer absent from his wife than she thought. 
 
 " Alarmed by the mysterious manner of the 
 communication, Louisa imagined ten thousand 
 perfidies on the part of Harry. Her first idea 
 was that he had betrayed her to this wretch 
 who had won his money, and perhaps declared
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 71 
 
 his intention of never returning to her. In 
 this case all the hoiTors of her situation pre- 
 sented themselves in quick succession, with an 
 accumulated account at the hotel, a daily in- 
 crease of it, a reputation whispered away, with- 
 out a friend in whom to confide, and without 
 money either to redeem herself or reclaim her 
 lover. She felt abused to the lowest grade, and 
 was on the point of committing herself to Mr. 
 Cavendish, and by endeavouring to extract the 
 secret from him, confirm his suspicion. In this, 
 however, she fortunately stumbled at the first 
 attempt ; and without any further remark calcu- 
 lated either to restore or excite her usual elasti- 
 city of humour : the first view of the waterfall, 
 as they rounded a high and wooded hill, broke 
 upon their sight. The horses were put to their 
 speed, and in a manner more becoming the levity 
 of fourteen than the staid restraint of married 
 females, the whole party aspired to reach the 
 wooden bridge, and stopped their horses close to 
 the waterfall, fearing to attempt the passage of 
 that apparently fragile and dangerous pass. 
 
 "No sooner had the party alighted, than a cloud
 
 ^2 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 of beggars, each carrying a dog in his arms, in- 
 terrupted any remarks which might have escaped. 
 Even Cavendish, as he helped Louisa from her 
 horse, and uttered something in a low hurried 
 tone, stopped short as the clatter of tongues 
 broke loose in supplication for charity. No 
 detei-mination to be uncharitable stopped either 
 their importunities or their solicitations : at last, 
 finding that for the love of Heaven no money 
 was bestowed, they changed their mode and 
 urged charity on behalf of their dogs, which 
 they agreed to throw over the foaming fall, in 
 order to show Christians that death would not 
 follow, although a leg or so might be broken 
 in the descent. The ladies turned their heads 
 away, disgusted at the cruel offer, and mendi- 
 city received a greater check from that society 
 than from the one in Red Lion Square ; for 
 women are ever averse to cruelty, at least by 
 nature they are so : some indeed break down 
 the barrier planted for the comfort of their hearts, 
 and seem eager to show their dexterity in skin- 
 ning cats or eels alive, or crimping the half-ex- 
 piring fish. That this mode of obtaining money
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 73 
 
 is common, those who visit that twelve-feet fall 
 of water dignified by the name of cascade, may 
 any day satisfy themselves. Those dogs are 
 preferred which have already grown wise by the 
 constant fracture of their legs : the numerous 
 whirlpools twist the half-drowned brute in rapid 
 circles, whilst the barbarians on the bridge en- 
 courage the animal by shouts and cries to per- 
 severe to the landing-place. If the animal is 
 thrown exactly in the centre of the fall, he may 
 escape unhurt ; but if it is carelessly dropped 
 the least on either side, the sharp-pointed rocks 
 catch the poor devoted creature, the life of which 
 is sacrified for ten sous, and thus with fractured 
 limbs it either survives to reach once more its 
 cruel owners, or is carried beyond their bar- 
 barous reach, and expires in the quick river 
 below\ 
 
 '•' In these parties of pleasure the principal gain- 
 ers are the priest and his begg-ars ; his house, 
 which stands a little distance from the bridge, 
 is the only one in the parish which is blessed 
 with a shed, under Avhich the horses are placed 
 to be turned half mad by the unrelenting flies. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 A kind of shudder at the proposition relative 
 to the dogs had kept the ladies quiet, until they 
 arrived at the house of the padre ; the first remark 
 being made by one of the ladies, that the parish 
 must be larger than met the eye, for the num- 
 ber on the door was 666. 
 
 " ' The number of the beast,^ replied Mr. 
 Cavendish quickly, ' and I take it for granted 
 we shall find the prophecy fulfilled.' Scarcely 
 had he spoken these words, when a short, thin, 
 unshorn, unshaved little follower of divinity 
 appeared : he ushered the party into his miser- 
 able abode, which contained no apparent com- 
 forts, but which certainly aiForded reason to 
 surmise how his reverence got rid of himself and 
 his thoughts. Dozens of empty bottles were 
 standing in various parts of this room ; whilst, 
 protected by lock and key, but visible to the eye, 
 stood the spiritual tempter, who, if the breath 
 can confirm suspicion, the little padre had at- 
 tempted to convert. The room was insufferably 
 close, and dining there was out of the question ; 
 so the party, under the direction of Mr. Caven- 
 dish, agreed to dine in a shed belonging to a 
 cow, the property of the padre ; and, after vari-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 75 
 
 ous attempts at one Herculean labour, the table 
 was spread on a smooth lawn, which formed the 
 bank of the river just below the fall. And here, 
 surrounded by the high mountains, which spread a 
 long shade over the valley in front, and within 
 hearing of the waterfall, the party sat down to 
 the repast ; but, as they occupied the grounds 
 of the padre, and as his presence was actually 
 necessary to keep his pauper parish from break- 
 ing through the thin defence of his domains, he 
 was invited, and became one of the number. 
 
 " It was astonishing the power he held over his 
 subjects, for when the savoury viands were spread, 
 and when there appeared sufficient to have satis- 
 fied the clamorous mouths of the fifty or sixty 
 who stretched their eager necks over the palings, 
 the excited feelings of the paupers alarmed the 
 party in regard to the security of their goods ; 
 but directly the padre held up his finger, and 
 uttered two words, the whole mob crossed them- 
 selves, and sat down on a small rising ground 
 watching their prey. It might have reminded 
 one of the greedy Cossacks of Platof, who, durmg 
 the retreat of the French army from Moscow,
 
 76 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 perched themselves upon the heights which sur- 
 rounded their victims, and dashed upon every 
 stragder from those unfortunate but heroic batal- 
 
 lions 
 
 '' That the party was a failure, was evident 
 enough ; and, in spite of the quickness of Mr. 
 Cavendish, the folly of Mr. Henderson, or the 
 peculiarity of the padre, a gloom had settled 
 itself upon the ladies. In vain Louisa endeavour- 
 ed to arouse them and herself; her words were 
 coldly received, and at every glance of Mr. Caven- 
 dish, who seemed by his manner of behaviour 
 to know she was within his grasp, her efforts grew 
 gradually weaker and weaker, and ultimately en- 
 tirely failed. The business of eating being finish- 
 ed, the ladies retired to stroll by the side of this 
 lovely river; and, instead of forming a kind of 
 mass without regularity, each seemed anxious to 
 secure the arm of her friend, and Louisa was 
 left to walk by herself. It was then the full 
 force of her situation occurred to her; she saw 
 it all, it needed no conjuror to drop the scales 
 from her eyes. She was unmasked ; or, what 
 was as bad, suspected. She sat down by that
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 77 
 
 babbling stream, as if to seek consolation in its 
 noise, or wishing that the loud voice of consci- 
 ence — for hers was not that small still voice, it 
 was trumpet-tongued — might be drowned in the 
 mass of water which roared over the cleft hill. 
 She turned in her mind the conduct to be pur- 
 sued ; the party had wandered some little distance, 
 and had intimated their hostility by sitting down 
 beyond the reach of her voice. That Cavendish 
 was in possession of the secret, she could not 
 doubt : either he had seen her when her charac- 
 ter was sacred in some of the gay balls of the 
 French metropolis, and had heard of her elope- 
 ment with one who had never changed her name ; 
 or, in the riot of debauchery, when the sentinel of 
 discretion is drunk, her, — she could not say hus- 
 ^ band, — her, she trembled when she uttered pro- 
 tector, — had betrayed the secret. There she sat 
 a Niobe in tears, the loveliest of those by whom 
 she was deserted ; a creature formed for admira- 
 tion, for desire, for society ; and now almost visibly 
 a despised, an insulted wanton. 
 
 "To face the storm, she found herself unable ; 
 to dissimulate, she was incapable ; to force herself
 
 78 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 upon her company, she had too high a spirit. Fall- 
 en as she was, and in her own estimation irrevo- 
 cably ruined, and utterly despised as she felt, still 
 the spirit of her birth was not quelled ; and, in the 
 emergency of the case, she decided upon resent- 
 ing the injury she had sustained in the evident 
 estrangement of her society. Long, long she pon- 
 dered upon her dreadful situation : even hope 
 that Henry would perform the last act of jus- 
 tice towards her, failed to support her flagging 
 spirits ; but revenge for the insult her own sex 
 had heaped upon her, by the whisperings of so 
 insignificant a creature as Mr. Cavendish, armed 
 her afresh for the combat, and infused a spirit 
 which only revenge in an insulted woman could 
 infuse. 
 
 " In the mean time the gentlemen were very 
 busy in rendering the padre a subject for ridi- 
 cule by his own parishioners ; the little man, 
 who at first was shy and reserved, seemed 
 to gain confidence when the ladies left the table ; 
 from abstinence he swerved towards the bottle, 
 and began, one would have supposed, to lay 
 in a stock for a fortnight. Soon it operated, and
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 79 
 
 soon began to appear one of the most disgust- 
 ing sights with which men can be afflicted. To 
 see the man who on the Sabbath pours into the 
 eager ears of his congregation the glad tidings 
 of salvation, to see him who preaches the necessity 
 of virtue, and who is eloquent in exhorting his 
 congregation to be sober and diligent, give the 
 lie to his own words in the house of God, by 
 basely profaning his character by drunkenness, 
 is horrible ; to drown the light of reason, to 
 hush the eloquent voice, to obliterate memory 
 even of himself and his Maker, are crimes doubly 
 aggravated when the hypocrite dares in the church 
 to point out that way which he is weak enough 
 to refuse to follow himself. To wine succeeded 
 brandy : that dirty abomination, snuff, choked his 
 utterance ; his eyes seemed on fire ; and even 
 decency was forgotten when this little spectre 
 of divinity, this shadow of a churchman, gave 
 way to his political opinions, and sung songs of 
 revolution and of riot within the hearing of his 
 parishioners. Then came all the devil of his 
 composition, ' the love of money.' One of the 
 party, authorised by Louisa to pay his demand.
 
 80 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 wliich could hardly have amounted to three francs, 
 was astonished to find the intoxicated padre a 
 cheat as well as a drunkard ; he required thirty 
 francs ; and so infuriated did he become at the 
 hints that his charges were exorbitant, that he 
 nearly added insult to injury, and threatened 
 to detain the glasses, &c. until he was compensat- 
 ed. It was paid ; and no sooner had he counted 
 the money, than, reeling from the shed, he called 
 his hungry paupers, and pointing out the food 
 still left, gave them permission to enter his 
 grounds. Then came a visitation of real harpies ; 
 in vain the commissionaires belonging to the hotel 
 opposed this irruption of the enemy; they broke 
 through the slender defence, seized and bore off 
 their plunder in spite of the words and the blows 
 of the servants ; the padre staggered home, and, 
 throwing himself upon his head, left the com- 
 pany to depart. 
 
 "It was now nearly eight o^clock ; the day 
 had been intensely hot, and Louisa, over- 
 come by the heat and her situation, felt the 
 first cooling breeze which started from the ad- 
 jacent hills. She lifted her eyes towards the 
 point from which the wind came, and then first
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 81 
 
 observed the party mounted and riding homewards. 
 She started up, and gathering the folds of her 
 habit, hastened to her horse ; all were gone but 
 two, one her own, and one belonging to Caven- 
 dish ; by this time the cavalcade had turned the 
 comer, and were out of sight. All her feelings 
 of revenge were hushed in the critical situation 
 in which she found herself; to start alone was 
 impossible. Cavendish was nowhere to be found, 
 the servants were busy in defending their master''s 
 property, and the ragged children left to pick 
 up the offerings of drunken liberality, remained 
 by the two horses ; they were too weak to 
 assist her, and the horses too riotous to mount 
 without aid. She looked round for her worst 
 foe, he was not visible ; but her eye caught at 
 a distant turn of the road her party at a full 
 gallop, and she distinctly saw some of the ladies 
 look behind, as if fearful of her approach. She 
 now began to weigh in her mind if this could 
 be a premeditated scheme ; but even this in- 
 sulted creature could not credit that het sex 
 would so desert her without some further proof 
 than that adduced by this stranger to her. 
 
 E 5
 
 82 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " To avoid the importunities of the beggars, 
 she betook herself to the priest's parlour, which 
 opened into his bed-chamber : there lay and 
 snored in drunhen forgetfulness that hypocriti- 
 cal preacher ; a man endowed with various talents, 
 with an eloquence hardly rivalled, with know- 
 ledge deep and profound ; a victim to that pas- 
 sion he could not control, a living lie upon his 
 own advice, a man who pointed out the forbidden 
 fruit, and who was the first to pluck it. She 
 shut the door, and sat down : how often, how 
 very often she looked at the watch, the only 
 remnant, besides a ring she was not privileged 
 to wear, left by her seducer ! Even as she marked, 
 the hours slipped rapidly away; her thoughts 
 wandered after him she loved ; and in the plea- 
 sure derived in retracing scenes of affection, the 
 time cheated her in its flight, and the shades 
 of evening, now casting the lengthened shadow 
 over the village, recalled her to her situation. 
 The horses still remained, held by an old man ; 
 the servant from Spa had gathered up the rem- 
 nants of the feast rescued from the beggars ; 
 the crowd had, being satiated with plunder, re-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 83 
 
 tired ; and Louisa heard only the distant lowing 
 of the cattle, and now and then the hasty pawing 
 of the horses. 
 
 " The evening growing towards night, was still 
 and calm : she remembered that it would require 
 two hours by daylight, even at a good speed, to 
 reach Spa ; that there was no moon ; and that 
 even now, if she mounted, it would be midnight 
 before she could reach her hotel. Then came 
 the apprehension that her character, soon to be 
 talked away by the female babblers, would not 
 be exalted by a dark ride through a strange 
 country, over hills, where houses did not exist, 
 where the road was difficult to find by broad 
 daylight, and where it was actually dangerous 
 to cross, from the numerous pitfalls and inequal- 
 ities. The wide romantic scene the noon-day's 
 sun had rendered magnificent, was now an object 
 of terror. The shades of night were fast approach- 
 ing; the servant of the padre eyed her with 
 suspicion ; and when she found that the officious 
 menial would insist upon calling the padre, she 
 took the desperate resolution of mounting by 
 any means, and endeavouring by the sagacity
 
 84 
 
 of tlie horse to find her way home. She suc- 
 ceeded ; and had crossed the bridge before men- 
 tioned, and on the smooth road was urging her 
 horse forward, when the clattering of Cavendish's 
 horse convinced her that he had carefully con- 
 cealed himself in order to ensure his prey. The 
 road, which is good near the village of Coo, soon 
 becomes rocky, ill-formed, and shaded by con- 
 tinual nut-trees. These thick-foliaged plants 
 would even by moonlight have rendered the ride 
 hazardous ; but now, with a darkness which Louisa 
 thought more intense than natural, it became 
 positively requisite to allow the animals to walk 
 their own pace, and pick their own way. 
 
 " ' Your most obedient servant, Louisa Stan- 
 hope,' began Cavendish, as he forced his horse 
 close to her side. ' T thought we should have 
 an hour's quiet conversation, and 1 see you are 
 equally disposed, or we should not be here this 
 dark night.' 
 
 " Louisa, at once convinced that all was known, 
 remained silent. 
 
 " ' Come come, my truant bird, we must be 
 better acquainted ; as yet you only know me as it
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 85 
 
 were by accident ; but the time is come when 
 you must regard me with a more friendly eye, for I 
 have news to tell you with which you are un- 
 acquainted. I know that marriage-ring, which 
 you so cautiously exhibit, has no right upon 
 that finger, and that ** 
 
 " ' For Heaven's sake ! Mr. Cavendish," inter- 
 rupted Louisa, ' stop ! I am not able to bear 
 this insult ; and I wonder that you, who call your- 
 self a man, should have selected this moment, 
 when an unprotected female should be sacred 
 in your eyes, to insult and revile her." 
 
 " ' I neither insult nor revile you," continued 
 Cavendish ; ' if that precious bauble virtue, 
 which you have thrown from your casket, was 
 still in your keeping, I would not speak as I 
 intend to do ; but you are the world's property 
 now, your own sex forsake you, and you may 
 seek consolation amongst those who neither boast 
 of virtue nor propriety, or throw yourself into the 
 arms of any man who is kind enough to out- 
 stretch them for your protection.** 
 
 " Cavendish, although a young man, was a most 
 consummate villain in his heart : it appears that
 
 86 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 he had oftentimes seen Louisa, and had been 
 equally anxious to inquire her history ; on the 
 Continent this is more common than in a casual 
 meeting in our own country. He himself was 
 handsome, of a manly figure, a commanding coun- 
 tenance ; but with an eye that, when fixed by 
 another, wavered and uncovered his heart, — the 
 eye is the index of that. It is said, no animal 
 can face the steady glance of the courageous, 
 virtuous human eye ; and Louisa knew that al- 
 though she had an enemy by her side, she had a 
 coward for her foe. Cavendish had, during his 
 many gambling transactions with Henry, by little 
 and little, extracted her history ; and the night 
 previous to his departure, when the last turn 
 of fortune decided in favour of Cavendish, and 
 when he, in the cowardly exultation over his 
 fleeced friend, recommended him, as it was late, 
 to go to bed with his pretty wife, and forget 
 such a trifling loss, Henry, in a moment of 
 spleen, exclaimed, ' She is not my wife, thank 
 God I and T can be rid of her and the incumbrance 
 to-morrow.' Startled at this, Cavendish con- 
 tinued the question, when the half-inebriated
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 87 
 
 gambler proclaimed her as ' Louisa Stanhope,'' 
 the victim of his successful seduction. 
 
 " The party at Coo coming immediately upon 
 this discovery, the sudden departure of Harry, 
 and the knowledge of his severe losses, deter- 
 mined Cavendish to eifect his purpose. Cunning 
 to a word, clever by nature, and calm and col- 
 lected, he considered her honour now in his 
 hands, and immediately determined to unmask 
 her before the company, to estrange the females 
 from Louisa ; and although he never imagined 
 that fortune would throw her so soon in his 
 power, yet he actually had planned, had laid 
 the very trap into which the unsuspecting Louisa 
 had fallen. He had persuaded the party to 
 decamp, and had promised one over-zealous 
 lady to keep Louisa in the rear, so that her 
 pious ears might not be profaned by hearing even 
 the sound of her fallen sister's voice. 
 
 " In every woe, with the exception of this one, 
 to which in this miserable life we are subjected, 
 the female breast participates in the misery of 
 the sufferer ; the heart which would bleed over 
 the misfortune of unexpected losses, the death
 
 88 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 of friends or relations, or could compassionate the 
 minor evils of our existence, stands unmoved to 
 the cry of pity from an abandoned female. In- 
 stead of providing for their wants, and winning 
 them back to the path from which they have 
 swerved, they spurn them to degradation, and 
 force them to continue, by the exclusion they 
 practise, in that road of ruin, until their healths 
 are impaired, their spirits broken, their hearts 
 hardened, and their guilt confirmed. In vain' 
 they lift the supplicating voice ; they are dis- 
 carded as worthless, and reviled as strumpets. 
 
 " The gamester and the drunkard, are they not 
 as bad as the profligate woman ? Does not 
 the former not only bring misery on himself, 
 but on all those dependent upon him ? Does 
 not he fly from one excitement, if possible, to 
 a worse ? Is not his means of subsistence the 
 plunder of others ? Is he not vicious, low, 
 degraded, oftentimes a forger, and mostly a 
 swindler ? 
 
 " Who can rely upon the drunkard ? Is he fit 
 to undertake any service ? Will he not squan- 
 der his own and the wealth of others to drive
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 89 
 
 himself into forgetfulness ? Is the house in 
 which he sleeps secure from fire ? or in the sea- 
 man, is the ship safe from explosion ? How many 
 lives may he not sacrifice by his intemperance ; 
 and yet we neither hold the gambler as an exile 
 from society, nor the drunkard from the warmth 
 of our fires. We compassionate their errors, we 
 pity their infirmities ; but we admit them in 
 our company, and oftentimes enrol them as our 
 friends. Let those beware of such acquaintances 
 who follow the steps of a Cavendish, or the ruin 
 of a Harry.'' ,
 
 90 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " It was Cavendish''s idea that by suddenly con- 
 vincing Louisa of her secret, beating her clown 
 to the lowest despair, and then slowly pro- 
 posing in kind terms a remedy, that he might 
 succeed in turning her affections from Han-y and 
 gain them for himself; not that he had the 
 slightest idea of protecting her afterwards, he was 
 not generous enough in his disposition to shel- 
 ter the woman he had ruined ; sufficient was it 
 for him to have her in his power, to rob the 
 girl of the little peace of mind which remained, 
 and then allow her to find a refuge where and 
 how she could. 
 
 " Some small distance beyond the village of 
 Coo the road again becomes comparatively good, 
 and in this part Louisa advanced at a safe canter : 
 she was anxious to near her home, but she
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 91 
 
 forgot that each pace of the horse conveyed her 
 further from any habitation ; for, after winding 
 through this straggle of huts and houses, the road 
 leads over the before-mentioned hills, on the 
 summit of one of which a solitary house still 
 stands. Cavendish was close at her side : in vain 
 she actually tried a gallop ; his horse was the fleet- 
 est, besides which he was a bolder rider, and a 
 man has a great advantage from his seat, especially 
 when the road is bad, and the horse requires 
 support. To evade him, to distance him, was im- 
 possible ; and, had she succeeded, she never could 
 have found the road, difficult by daylight, and 
 almost hazardous in darkness. During the ac- 
 celerated pace, Louisa had wound herself up to 
 face the stonn ; and when they emerged from the 
 lane, and began to ascend the hill, the horses 
 seemed to know the necessity of a slower pace, 
 and dwindled into a walk. Cavendish had wound 
 his coward bosom to a resolution which in day- 
 light he would have hesitated to have attempted. 
 The flash of the woman's eyes were imperceptible : 
 it was like a timid man writing a letter in his 
 own sanctum, in which he dared to give vent to
 
 9£ WALSINGHAM, 
 
 his feelings in the absence of his enemy ; for 
 many men will hector in security, and, when the 
 eye is withdrawn, the heart may be re-assured. 
 
 " ' Are you convinced, Louisa,' said Cavendish, 
 ' that I know more than you suspected ; and 
 that, in spite of your calm assertion this morning, 
 know you to be, not the wife, but the mistress 
 of Harry."* 
 
 " ' You have asserted as much, Mr. Cavendish, 
 and if true or not I shall not condescend to 
 answer ; but I cannot but regret that, indepen- 
 dent of the insult offered to me, you should 
 have whispered away my character, and thus left 
 me under the protection of a man who has ruined 
 my reputation, and who has driven away by his 
 slanderous tongue those of my own sex who were 
 my proper companions.' 
 
 " ' It is never a blot until it 's hit, as the 
 backgammon players say : you were believed 
 virtuous, — they liked you ; you are found under 
 false colours, — they desert, perhaps despise you."* 
 
 " ' And pray, sir,"* replied Louisa, ' by whose 
 authority do you circulate these rumours.' 
 
 " ' Harry's.'
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 93 
 
 " ' Good God above ! it cannot be ; you are 
 endeavouring in the absence of tliis man to in- 
 sult his wife : never would I believe the basest 
 of men could descend so low ; it is false, utterly 
 false ; he never asserted what you assert, he never 
 whispered what you have whispered." 
 
 " ' You women are remarkably foolish, my dear 
 Louisa : let a little reason penetrate through 
 the darkness even of this night ; you must know 
 that I was ignorant of this two days ago, or you 
 would have seen more of me, rely upon it. It 
 was when he resolved to leave you that he be- 
 trayed the secret ; he has no more money, he 
 is off, he has shaken the clog from his leg, your 
 landlord will become clamorous for his bill yet 
 unpaid : to-morrow will see you a different crea- 
 ture to the once courted, once innocent lady ; 
 his flight I have already circulated ; his return 
 I know improbable, if not impossible, and there- 
 fore, my pretty bird, caught in your own lure, 
 I would recommend your turning your eyes upon 
 one who has money enough to support you, 
 and who in compassion for your distress will 
 shelter you.'
 
 94 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " The indignation of Louisa knew no bounds : 
 attached, fondly attached to the man who had 
 ruined her — perfectly incredulous as to the asser- 
 tions of Cavendish, and yet knowing their truth, 
 she knew not how to answer, for her wrath was 
 kindled, her reason half estranged, and from the 
 latter part of his speech she saw clearly his in- 
 tentions and the increasing danger of her situa- 
 tion : still she was woman enough to temporize ; 
 and swallowing that anger which at first nearly 
 choked her utterance, she rather calmly replied, 
 ' When I am convinced of the truth of your 
 assertions, Mr. Cavendish, I may be more in- 
 clined to listen to your propositions ; but I feel 
 easy under that promise, knowing who and what 
 I am. Next Saturday, Harry shall revenge the 
 insult offered to his wife ; and if I were his mis- 
 tress, he would be under a double obligation to 
 protect me from the ruffian assault of a stranger."* 
 " ' I feel rather easy upon that point, Louisa : 
 I tell you, for the last time, that he himself told 
 me — yes, me — that you were not his wife, and 
 that he would soon be clear of the incumbrance. 
 Why, he likened you to a load, a burthen, a
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 95 
 
 heavy disagreeable weight he had fixed upon his 
 own shoulders, and from under which he was re- 
 solved to slip. I really wonder that you, so 
 young, so beautiful, so full of life and anima- 
 tion, want the spirit of your sex to despise a 
 man who has so cruelly deserted you."* 
 
 '' ' And one who has so cruelly traduced me !' 
 " ' Nay, nay, my dear girl, be reasonable. I 
 love you, and therefore feel a warm interest in 
 your welfare ; I love you, Louisa, — (saying which, 
 he took her hand, which was resting on the 
 pommel, and which she hastily withdrew,) — before 
 we part this night, that hand will not be so 
 savagely withdrawn : let me show you your situa- 
 tion, and you can best judge if I heighten the 
 colouring of the picture. Harry is ruined, he 
 has not a farthing : in the excitement of his loss, 
 he has confessed himself happy — yes, child, happy 
 — that he was not clogged by matrimony ; and 
 even in madness he had some reason, for he 
 said a man was never thoroughly ruined until 
 he was married : he rejoiced in publishing your 
 shame ; not only myself, but six other men were 
 present : he held you up to public obloquy.
 
 96 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 public scorn ; he confessed his bill unpaid at 
 the hotel, and his inability to pay it; he spoke 
 of your jewels as too good, too real, to adorn 
 a mistress ; and in the bitterness of his loss he 
 derived comfort, not from your affection or your 
 charms, but because he could cast you aside, like 
 the loathsome weed carried by the Gulf stream, 
 to float upon the public ocean until that ocean 
 destroyed it. Where now are the feelings which 
 warm the female heart ? Have you no spirit, no 
 courage, no scorn for such a worthless fellow ; 
 who, having plucked the ripe fruit, leaves it to 
 rot on the ground ? Nay, I will make you con- 
 vinced that I speak the truth : no sooner had 
 he mentioned your proper name, than one of 
 the party remembered you at Paris, recollected 
 you as Louisa Stanhope ; nay, he had seen the 
 whole account of your elopement in the papers/ 
 
 " A long deep sigh escaped Louisa. At this mo- 
 ment, when in all its naked truth, the story was 
 told, her feelings were beyond description ; she saw 
 at once the probability of his desertion, but 
 the jewels, too pure to grace a wanton's neck, 
 stung her to the very heart : in vain she en-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 97 
 
 deavoured to mask his behaviour ; the whole was 
 too connected, not one link in the chain was 
 wanting. Then did she feel the devil rising in 
 her bosom, and overawing the guilt that rankled 
 therein ; she could not discredit that which 
 she knew to be true, and which could only 
 have been known by the mean babbling of her 
 lover's tongue. 
 
 " ' Rather exult than sigh,' continued Caven- 
 dish ; ' for that dark cloud which threatens us 
 with its thunder is not more charged with 
 danger than is your situation : to-morrow you 
 will be an outcast ; this late ride with one 
 scarcely known to you, the grief to which you 
 will give vent, the shame which you must feel 
 and cannot conceal, will all tend to confirm 
 the truth, and to place me in public estimation 
 as your protector. If this cloud burst over us 
 and swell the fords near the road, we may be 
 detained until daylight ; and what then will be 
 the surmise when, with jaded horses, bespattered 
 habit, weeping eyes, you creep into your room 
 and find your officious maid ready to note every 
 spot or stain ? Reflect well upon this, and re- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 member it is but the overture to the serious 
 opera, which the whole scandal will develope. 
 Again, Louisa, I love you ; I offer you my house, 
 my home, my fortune : and had I not been so 
 overpowered by your beauty as to confess myself 
 your admirer, I had not planned this meeting, 
 and which fortune has so kindly afforded me/ 
 
 " ' And to this meeting then I am indebted 
 for my ruin. If, Mr. Cavendish, that cloud to 
 which you have alluded were to arm me with 
 all the terrors of its lightning, on your head 
 should fall the bolt: hear this from one who 
 through life has only told one falsehood ; I hate 
 you, despise you, and would rather fall a prey to 
 the midnight ruffian, than yield to one to whom 
 I am indebted for all the misfortunes I feel 
 about to crush me." 
 
 " ' Not so, Louisa."* 
 
 " ' Sir, I beg that freedom may be dis- 
 continued. I place myself now under your pro- 
 tection, but our acquaintance ceases with our 
 arrival ; your well-told story of dirt and marks, 
 my innocence — the plain unvarnished tale — will 
 shield me from ; and now, even now, you are
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 99 
 
 willing to add another falsehood to your declara- 
 tion of love. Did you not swindle Harry of 
 his money ? Did you not receive that which 
 has ruined us r Have you not circulated those 
 reports which life is too short to obliterate ? 
 Have you not driven Harry froni my arms, and 
 my sex from my society P** 
 
 " ' You are rash, Louisa, dearest Louisa, in 
 your expressions ; you are now in my power, 
 and I might avail myself of the hint so kindly 
 given in the midnight ruffian. I have acted as 
 a friend, I have shown you your danger, and 
 I have offered you an escape : — keep your horse 
 nearer mine, or you will be in a gravel-pit. 
 Remember this, — that he who is branded as a 
 swindler, as a liar, as a villain, may as well add 
 a cause for another opprobrious term.' 
 
 " ' You cannot mean to use violence, Mr. 
 Cavendish ; the very Heavens will protect the 
 innocent. I cannot believe you even capable of 
 such wickedness — such cowardice.' 
 
 " ' Louisa, 1 have resolved that you shall love 
 me : nay, regard me as your best friend : and not 
 the thunder of the heavens shall turn me from 
 
 f2
 
 100 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 my resolution. Consent then to relinquish the 
 man who scorns you, and give me the hand 
 which you have so lavishly bestowed upon a 
 worthless villain."'- 
 
 " ' Unhand me, Mr. Cavendish, or my screams 
 shall startle the neighbourhood : unhand me, sir 
 directly, and learn that respect which is due to 
 a woman.' 
 
 " ' By Heavens ! I cannot part with you ; scream 
 if you will : even this solemn calm before the 
 storm will not convey your screams to human 
 ear. Here is a wild and rugged hill to which 
 none repair but during daylight ; no shepherd 
 brings his flotk to this ungenerous soil : and 
 here, stop your horse ; — here I will exact from 
 you a promise to be mine, to forget the man who 
 has so scandalously ill-used you, and to live with 
 him who has ruined in order to secure you/ 
 
 " The shriek with which the poor girl screamed 
 for assistance was re-echoed, in the stillness of the 
 night, from hill to hill, as if to summon all to 
 her aid : that loud piercing shrill voice was un- 
 heard. Cavendish, frightened from his purpose.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 101 
 
 relinquished her hand, and Louisa dashed her 
 horse forward. 
 
 " Those who have resided at Spa are well aware 
 how frequently, how almost instantaneously, the 
 storms arise. Attracted by the many mountains 
 in the vicinity, the clouds collect upon their 
 summit, and require but the first flash of lightning 
 to inundate the plains below. But on this night 
 slowly had the clouds collected ; by degrees they 
 began to extend themselves ; and the night, dark 
 before, was perfectly black in the direction from 
 which the impending storm was to come : it 
 hung like a pall over the benighted travellers ; 
 and often did Louisa implore its downfall, in 
 order to scare the villain from his destined prey. 
 Aloft, the wind was plainly audible ; it seemed 
 to follow the scream, as if anything which dis- 
 turbed the stillness would bring on the tempest. 
 The horse, fearful of its footing, again relaxed into 
 a walk, and moved its ears backwards and for- 
 wards as if catching the sound of the wind, which 
 became louder and louder, although not a breath 
 disturbed the lower atmosphere.
 
 10^ WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " Caveudisli was again by her side, again eager 
 to be heard ; and now with soft and kind words 
 endeavouring to persuade his victim to renounce 
 her still loved Harry : but Louisa never deigned 
 a reply ; as he sank to solicitations, she rose in 
 courage ; she suspected him as a coward, and 
 she hated, she despised him. 
 
 " ' I see," he resumed, ' it is all in vain. I 
 had hoped that your knowledge of the dreadful 
 predicament in which you stand, and my kind 
 intentions, might have procured for me a more 
 ready ear and a more generous auditor. Surely 
 you cannot be blind to your situation ; your for- 
 lorn, your helpless condition, prompts me again 
 and again to offer my protection .'' 
 
 " ' Never, sir, never ; as there is a God in 
 heaven — never will I consent to such baseness !' 
 
 " ' Then by that heaven your ruin is inevitable ! 
 To whom, dearest Louisa, can you turn ? Where 
 can the despised and degraded find a friend in 
 affliction ? Is it not evident that your own sex 
 have abandoned you ? And where, when the 
 determined landlord presses his bill, — where can 
 you find the means to satisfy his just demand ?
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 103 
 
 Look, therefore, to me as your protector; and 
 your generosity shall be repaid by my undeviat- 
 ing affection."* Here Cavendish dismounted, and 
 placing his hand through the bridle of Louisa's 
 horse stopped it, and with the look of a lover 
 again urged his suit in more respectful terms. 
 
 " ' 'Tis useless," Cavendish continued, ' 'tis 
 useless your refusal, Louisa : look well, first 
 to your own state, then to mine ; nay, do not 
 be wilfully blind. You see in the abandonment 
 of Harry only more affluence would accrue 
 to you : he is ruined, he has not a farthing ; 
 nay, dearest girl, has he not insulted you beyond 
 endurance, in stigmatising you as a wanton, on 
 whose neck the emblem of innocence, the pearl 
 of purity was contaminated ? Has he not branded 
 you with infamy ? — and has he not, at the very 
 moment when his assistance was most needed, 
 deserted you — left you at a public hotel, having 
 previously published your dishonour ? Come, 
 come, I know it is hard to give up those we 
 love, and I feel that truth now ; but it amounts 
 to madness in a w^oman to cling to the being 
 who cast her from him, and w^ho is so
 
 104 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 pitifully mean that he is not contented with 
 having rifled the flower, but he must throw the 
 stalk away.' 
 
 " Louisa sighed heavily ; and Cavendish, aware 
 that women do not sigh without a cause, took 
 her hand as he walked by the side of her horse, 
 allowing his own to follow at the bridle's length, 
 and thus artfully continued, — ' Excuse me, dear- 
 est girl, if in showing you your danger I have 
 used words which ill accord with your wishes, 
 or perhaps your belief; but it is a duty I owe 
 to beauty, — and surely never was that duty more 
 fairly commanded, if loveliness can command, — 
 to shield it from insult. You think I have used 
 you ill in severing your companions from you : 
 I have done you a service if you will avail your- 
 self of it ; for now, as you know your danger, 
 you can escape from it before even the female 
 tongue can babble your disgrace. Poor dear 
 helpless beauty, it is hard so young to be so sacri- 
 ficed ; and I should ill become the name of a 
 man if I did not participate in your afflictions, 
 and use my utmost endeavours to shelter and 
 to shield you.'
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 105 
 
 "At this moment, a vivid flash of light- 
 ning seemed to dart within an inch of the 
 horses ; the thunder followed in a loud terrific 
 roar. Louisa's horse shied to the left, its hoof 
 striking full upon the foot of Cavendish ; and, 
 turning sharp round fell into a pit, forcing Ca- 
 vendish before it, and dismounting its rider : the 
 other horse turned its head from the storm, whilst 
 the clouds discharged their contents in such tor- 
 rents that a second Deluge seemed at hand. Nei- 
 ther were much hurt, but the pain experienced 
 from the hoof of the animal checked the melli- 
 fluous accent of Cavendish. 
 
 " Louisa availed herself of this sudden and un- 
 expected delivery to deceive her unworthy com- 
 panion. ' See, Mr. Cavendish, the Heavens on 
 which I called have interposed to save me ; and 
 this, I hope, will lead you to think more of our 
 mutual safety than of your present wishes ? How 
 are we ever to find our way in this dreadful 
 night without we take advantage of the lightning, 
 by which means we may discover the solitary 
 house which stands not far from the summit of 
 the hill ? Let us mount our horses before the 
 
 F 5
 
 106 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 animals become more frightened, and perhaps, 
 unable to stand the storm, may gallop away. I 
 hope you are not hurt, sir ?' 
 
 ^' Cavendish recovering from his fall, was walk- 
 ing round and round, limping seriously, and mutter- 
 ing curses both loud and deep: to the question 
 of Louisa he answered with a mild voice, 
 ' Think not of me, dearest Louisa ; if you are 
 unhurt, I care not for this trivial pain : I 
 grieve to say, that although I can walk, I 
 can offer but little assistance in placing you on 
 your saddle ; but let me try ;' and, saying this, 
 he placed his hand covered with mud round the 
 waist of Louisa. She released herself instantly, 
 saying, 
 
 " ' Then I must do the best I can by myself;' 
 and, taking the bridle, she led the horse to the 
 beaten track, and finding a small hillock she 
 succeeded in leaping on her saddle, whilst Caven- 
 dish officiously endeavoured to be of some trivial 
 service. He took her hand, and respectfully kissed 
 it as he continued, ' I trust, Louisa, my respect- 
 ful manner will convince you that you have not 
 fallen into the hands of a ruffian. I hope you
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 107 
 
 will see in me one whose admiration of you is 
 founded in love ; and who would willingly re- 
 pair, if the love was mutual, the injury you 
 have sustained at the hands of Harry. Be- 
 fore I mount my horse, and whilst the thunder 
 may witness the promise, let me implore you to 
 give me some hope that my affections are not 
 misplaced, and that you will leave Spa to-morrow 
 under the protection of the man who will traverse 
 the world to seek the spot on which his dear 
 Louisa may wish to reside ; and he — ' he con- 
 tinued, as he kissed her hand, — ' he will not 
 desert the woman who returns his love, or blazon 
 her shame in the eyes of the curious world." 
 
 " ' Mr. Cavendish,' replied Louisa, ' you must 
 admit my right to doubt all your assertions ; but 
 if what you have said of Harry's baseness is true, 
 if he does not return to me before next Wednes- 
 day, I will become yours if you discontinue your 
 importunities now; and let this promise suffice for 
 the present : although he has used me badly, — nay, 
 I could find another word, — yet I would not de- 
 sert him until he has cast me away. Now mount 
 your horse, and let us liberate ourselves from our 
 present difficulties.'
 
 108 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " Cavendish again kissed her hand, and thank- 
 ing her for the prospect she afforded him of con- 
 vincing her of his sincerity, he mounted his horse. 
 His determination had been very different ; but 
 now he held the balance between the quiet pos- 
 session on Wednesday, or the hazard of the con- 
 sequences should he persevere. He was confident 
 Harry would never return ; and therefore, after 
 binding Louisa by a promise the most sacred — 
 nay, making her seal the contract by kissing him, 
 they proceeded onwards, Cavendish holding the 
 hand of Louisa, which she never attempted to 
 withdraw : * I know not, my dearest Louisa, what 
 is best to be done : this rain will render the fords 
 impassable ; and the roads, hazardous at all times, 
 will now become dangerous. Shall we make for the 
 lone house, and there wait until daylight? ** 
 
 " ' No, no,' replied Louisa, who was resolved 
 not to trust herself longer with Cavendish than 
 was actually necessary ; ' we are drenched to the 
 skin, and covered with mud ; the sooner we gain 
 the hotel the better ; and I would not for the 
 world arrive by daylight. It is now only midnight,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 109 
 
 and we have passed the worst road : there stands 
 the house ; we must take the road to the left, and 
 follow the lanes : we cannot now miss our way." 
 
 " ' You remember your promise, Louisa — start 
 not at my again mentioning it — we are both bound 
 by the same bond, I not to molest you now, and 
 you to be mine on Wednesday. I told you, be- 
 fore the night was over this hand would not be 
 withdrawn, and I am no false prophet.' 
 
 " ' What I have said I have said," replied 
 Louisa. 
 
 " ' Now then," resumed Cavendish, ' let us en- 
 deavour to undo the mischief I have already done ; 
 to-morrow, or rather to-day, will bring forward 
 your clamorous creditors ; allow me to be your 
 banker and pay all your bills — I will call about 
 noon. We must now be upon terms of the strictest 
 friendship ; you must appear left under my pro- 
 tection, and I will endeavour to persuade your fe- 
 male friends that I was mistaken. Do not dine 
 in public, but I will be your companion in your 
 room.' 
 
 " ' As you direct, so I shall do, Mr. Cavendish ;
 
 110 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 but perhaps the landlord may not be clamorous, 
 in which case I see no necessity of borrowing 
 from your kindness.' 
 
 " * The greatest in the world, darling : your oifer 
 to pay your account will give the lie to my own 
 whispers ; your having money will insure you re- 
 spect : and next Wednesday we will remove to 
 Liege." 
 
 '* ' If Harry does not return,' interrupted 
 Louisa. 
 
 " ' I fear your sincerity even now, Louisa. How 
 can you cling to such a shadow ? How can you still 
 love the man who has ruined your reputation, 
 left you a pauper, and who now is either half way 
 to Paris or London ?' 
 
 " ' He left his wife, his own wife for me — nay, 
 occasioned her death after being married only 
 seven months,' sighed Louisa, ' and therefore 
 would not hesitate in deserting me when a fresh 
 object attracted his attention. Ah, Mr. Caven- 
 dish, it is the knowledge of this very fact I have 
 mentioned, that he left his wife for me, — ay, and 
 that it killed her, — that has bound me to him."
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. Ill 
 
 " ' Hall ! hah ! hah !' laughed Cavendish ; 
 ' what fools you women are ! Why you confess 
 it then, you acknowledge yourself his mistress !' 
 
 " ' And have you not told me so yourself?' re- 
 plied the astonished girl ; ' have you not men- 
 tioned the circumstances so minutely that I 
 could not be deceived ?"* 
 
 " ' Good ! by the Lord, good ! He said so in 
 a fit of spleen, but nobody believed him ; and 
 the story about the papers was my own inven- 
 tion .'' 
 
 " Louisa withdrew her hand, and Cavendish in- 
 stantly stopped the horse : the storm had passed, 
 the calm had succeeded, and the moon had risen : 
 he looked her in the face with the consciousness 
 of power, and, seizing her again, said, ' Either your 
 hand, or your honour f She gave it trembling as 
 it was ; and Cavendish mistook for fear that which 
 arose from scorn, or the sensation of touching a 
 viper. Now the villain became a bold man, now 
 he held her firmly in his power ; the truth, which 
 he certainly never believed before, was now con- 
 finned, and his manner changed from the vacil-
 
 112 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 lating lover to the imperative master. Her story 
 was easily to be confirmed ; he had her firmly in 
 the web, and his revenge was certain. He hated 
 Harry for the word ' coward"* which had been 
 directed at him by his victim ; he had taken his 
 money, he had cheated him of that, and now he 
 would rob him of his mistress."
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 1J3 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " It was not before three o'clock on Thursday 
 morning that Cavendish and his victim arrived at 
 Spa. The busy hum of men was hushed in re- 
 pose, and they alighted at the Hotel de Flandre 
 without being noticed ; the man to whom the 
 horses belonged was aroused by the tread of the 
 animals, and, opening the great gates of the court- 
 yard, admitted the tired and jaded creatures. 
 Cavendish assisted Louisa to dismount, and would 
 have saluted her on parting had she not withdrawn 
 herself; and without offering her hand, she coldly 
 repeated, ' good night,' and retired to her own 
 room. The maid startled at seeing her mistress 
 in such a disordered state : her eyes seemed 
 swollen from tears, her hair hung in long locks 
 from which the moisture was still dropping — her 
 riding-hat was indented in front, her habit was
 
 114 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 covered with mud, and, in the only place which 
 might have defied the dirt, was the strong print of 
 a hand. The other party, some of whom lived in 
 the same hotel, had returned by ten o'clock ; and 
 it certainly did appear very strange to the strong 
 intellect of the waiting and inquisitive servant, 
 that all the ladies should have so suddenly de- 
 serted her mistress, and left her to the protection 
 of a stranger on a dark night over a barren coun- 
 try. The many questions put to her mistress 
 were answered in one answer, and unfortunately 
 she blended a falsehood with the truth. 
 
 " ' She had," she replied, ' left the waterfall 
 with the rest of the party ; but in riding over the 
 hill the horse had shied and she been thrown, and 
 that a Mr. Cavendish, as she was rather hurt, had 
 advised the rest to ride forward to avoid the im- 
 pending storm, whilst he would remain and walk 
 by her side until she reached home : the rain had 
 so swollen the river that they could not pass, and 
 thus she had been detained until this late hour.' 
 
 " ' Why ma'am,' replied the inquisitive maid, 
 ' you must have been thrown after the storm be- 
 gan, for the habit is covered with mud ; and dear
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 115 
 
 me, why here is the mark of a hand round your 
 waist — I suppose you rode home.' 
 
 "Louisa saw the error she had committed, and 
 her maid was too quick not to perceive the 
 change in her mistress's manner ; as when those 
 garments were removed, which we who relate 
 the anecdote hardly know by name, no con- 
 tusion was visible, no marks in black array con- 
 firmed the statement, no sore inflamed the skin, 
 no blood oozed from any wound. She had walk- 
 ed up stairs firmly and well ; and if she had been 
 so injured as to be five hours behind her com- 
 pany in a distance of only nine miles in all, 
 some mark would have been left to attest the 
 truth, some expression of pain would have escap- 
 ed, some liniment would have been offered, and 
 some friction desired : but, instead of this, deep, 
 deep sighs escaped her; her eyes streamed with 
 tears, her whole manner was hurried and confused. 
 ' I am afraid, ma'am,' continued the maid, ' you 
 are very much hurt ; can I get anything for you 
 to relieve the pain : is it your back, ma'am, 
 or your arms.' 
 
 " ' Never mind, Mary, I shall be better to-
 
 116 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 morrow ; do leave me. I will put my hair in 
 paper. You must be very tired ; good night, and 
 don't let anybody disturb me in the morning. 
 There go, that 's a good creature, for I feel very 
 tired, and cannot talk." The servant retired. 
 
 " It was said by a great and good man, that every 
 night, when he retired to rest, he passed before 
 him every word he had uttered, every action he 
 had committed, every sentence he had read ; — thus 
 he habituated himself to stand in judgment on 
 his conduct : and whilst he censured the slight- 
 est levity, and prayed for forgiveness, he con- 
 gratulated himself, and thus received his reward, 
 for the good he had done, the learning he had 
 acquired, the virtue he had practised, and the 
 forgiveness he had extended. That this is a 
 wholesome, useful watchfulness over ourselves is 
 evident ; and if repentance is the first step towards 
 forgiveness, self-examination is the shield from 
 crime. 
 
 " Sleep, that blessing 'which covereth a man 
 all over like a blanket,' came not to cover the 
 approaches of horror : conscience, the busy sen- 
 tinel over virtue, searched in vain for its charge,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 117 
 
 and reproached its inattention by reminding the 
 once proprietor of its loss. How changed was 
 all around her ! — no longer the fascinating Louisa 
 would be the pride or the envy of her acquaint- 
 ance, no longer would the world court her society : 
 her own breast was her accuser, and her sighs, 
 her tears, her own absent, distracted manner, would 
 become the principal evidence against her. In vain 
 she endeavoured to reassure herself; when people 
 have once lost their own esteem, all the words and 
 all the works of the world can never restore it. She 
 turned, and turned in her mind the proper course 
 to be pursued ; and finally resolved upon declar- 
 ing herself too indisposed to quit her chamber^ to 
 exclude every one but her own maid, and to give 
 the most positive orders that Mr. Cavendish 
 should not be admitted. If Harry intended to 
 return, twenty-four hours would not elapse with- 
 out a letter : if not, she resolved to state her 
 situation to her landlord; leave all her clothes, 
 &c. in his care ; borrow sufficient money to convey 
 her to Paris ; and, like the houseless stranger, 
 beg admission at that door from which she had 
 eloped, and which was now closed against her.
 
 118 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 With these determinations she became more 
 quiet : she saw it was useless to cower at a danger 
 from which she could not escape ; and equally 
 impolitic would it have been to have put on the 
 face of assurance, when her female friends had 
 united against her, and pretty plainly demonstrat- 
 ed the course they intended to pursue. 
 
 " Daylight dawned, the usual hour of rising came, 
 — and noon appeared ; her maid had obeyed her 
 orders, and had devoted her morning to the laud- 
 able exercise of her inquisitorial talents. She 
 had elicited from the commissionaires the cer- 
 tainty that her mistress did not leave the water- 
 fall with the rest of the company, and she was 
 not slow in observing that although she had 
 met one or two of the ladies themselves, yet that 
 no inquiries were made concerning her mistress, 
 or of the injury she might have sustained by her 
 Jail. She knew that this was unusual in civilized 
 society, and she very soon came to the conclusion 
 that her mistress was no better than she ought 
 to be. Mary was a rather hard-featured woman, 
 of about four-and-twenty, and joined to a face 
 none the better for the attack of small-pox
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 119 
 
 a violent irascibility of temper, one of the seven 
 failings which the Genius of Hindoostan has 
 fixed as the natural composition of women. She, 
 having put that and that together, nodded her 
 head suspiciously, and resolved to remain in her 
 room until she was called. 
 
 " In the Hotel de Flandre there are two stair- 
 cases : one close to the entrance into the court- 
 yard, and which no one can ascend without obser- 
 vation from the secretary, or some of the ser- 
 vants ; the other exactly facing the front door, 
 up or down which a dozen strangers might play 
 at leap-frog without a chance of discovery. They 
 both lead to a passage, on one side of which 
 are the sitting, and on the other the bed-rooms ; 
 and, as many occupy both this floor and the 
 next, any intruder might roam about without 
 being liable to suspicion, or without being regard- 
 ed as an interloper. 
 
 " It was noon, when a slight tap at the door 
 awoke Louisa from her unquiet slumbers ; and 
 as it was evidently broad day, for the curtains 
 are too thin to exclude the light, and the shutters 
 rarely used but in winter, she concluded it must
 
 120 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 be her servant, and without further hesitation 
 she pronounced ' Come in," quite audibly enough 
 to convince the forward Mr. Cavendish that he 
 had made no mistake in the room, for he had 
 squinted into the different chambers, the open 
 doors of which invited his peeping propensities ; 
 and being thoroughly satisfied that Louisa had 
 not ventured forth, he resolved to visit her in 
 her bed-chamber, or wherever else he could find 
 her. 
 
 " Louisa, who little suspected that surprise, was 
 extended in that careless attitude to which most 
 resort when suddenly awoke, and when the heat 
 is almost insupportable. Her hands were placed 
 over her eyes, as if to exclude the light, which 
 was painful from its sudden admission ; and 
 charms unrivalled were not wholly concealed, 
 either by the dress or the covering. Cavendish 
 saw and gazed, and he must have been more 
 than man who could have turned from the fairest 
 picture Nature ever painted. She withdrew her 
 hand ; and there, leaning over the bed, his eyes 
 fixed upon her and glaring with passion, stood 
 her betrayer, her worst enemy. Cavendish.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 121 
 
 " Those charms were instantly concealed,— a 
 modest blush suffused her cheeks, and the aifright- 
 ed girl saw at once the object and the determina- 
 tion of the villain. She soon found words to give 
 force to her disgust, and desired the intruder 
 instantly to withdraw. Cavendish heeded not the 
 command, but gave vent to the violence of his 
 excited appetite in words indecent and indeco- 
 rous. He had shut the door, and now he locked 
 it ; and then, with quivering lip, he thus ad- 
 dressed his victim. Holding his finger to his lips 
 as if to impose silence, he spoke in a whisper 
 low yet audible, whilst a tremor agitated his body. 
 ' Hear me,"* said he, taking her hand, — ' hear me, 
 or court your own ruin. The door is locked — 
 we are alone ; and if through false delicacy you 
 alarm your neighbours, what will be the conse- 
 quence I need not tell. Louisa to be found 
 in her bed, and I by her side ! consider before 
 you act hastily. The servant who will come will 
 find his entrance obstructed ; the knowledge of 
 this being your chamber will look like conniv- 
 ance ; your late ride with the stranger, your sup- 
 posed husband's absence,— i — ^Hush ! hush ! there 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 are footsteps along the passage ; let go that bell- 
 rope, and listen to one who is come to claim 
 you as his own.' 
 
 '' ' Away, away ! you false villain !' replied the 
 spirited girl ; ' thus and thus I show you how 
 little I heed your caution or your falsehoods V and 
 saying which, she rang the bell with violence. 
 ' Now stay,' she continued, ' whilst I denounce 
 you as a thief to the police ; and be convinced 
 by this act how little you have to expect from 
 Louisa Stanhope, — who, however much she may 
 be fallen, is still high enough to despise the 
 creeping, cringing coward who thus insults her.' 
 
 " Footsteps were heard along the passage, — the 
 door attempted, and found locked. Louisa, call- 
 ing her maid by name, desired her to break it 
 open ; and then turning to Cavendish, who stood 
 trembling like the detected ruffian he was, she 
 said in a firm voice, ' Unlock that door, sir.' 
 He did as he was desired, and the maid entered. 
 
 '' ' How came that man,' said Louisa with a 
 dignity little to be expected under such circum- 
 stances, — ' how came that man admitted into my 
 bed-chamber when I was asleep ? Look round
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 123 
 
 the room, Mary, and see that I have lost nothing, 
 before you allow him to escape ; and desire the 
 landlord to come here directly.' 
 
 " Astonishment at the very suspicion of the 
 theft, and knowing the disgraceful attack he 
 had made on the supposed wife of his pretended 
 friend, Cavendish was not long in resolving upon 
 a retreat ; and as he stepped into the passage, he 
 met two of the ladies who had so civilly deserted 
 Louisa the day before. The darkened room, the 
 knowledge that Louisa was still in bed — or, at 
 least, had not appeared, — and the cautious, hasty 
 manner Cavendish avoided all commimication,-^ 
 certainly did not take from the conviction already 
 entertained, that their former acquaintance had 
 connived at this meeting, and had actually re- 
 mained in her bed-chamber in order to meet her 
 new acquaintance. 
 
 '* In the mean time Mary's mind was not in- 
 active. She had seen Cavendish the day before 
 one of the party to the waterfall ; she had gleaned 
 sufficiently of his description to know that he 
 was the person who accompanied her mistress 
 home ; she had seen the state of her habit, and 
 
 g2
 
 124 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 had now caught him, a perfect stranger, in the 
 hotel, in the bed-room, with the door fastened, 
 and her mistress not yet risen. Strange mis- 
 givings rushed over her mind — women know how 
 quick their sex are at backing out of a difficulty — 
 and Mary considered the hasty order for the 
 master of the house, the idea of the theft, as so 
 many subterfuges to avoid detection, — nay, the 
 very confusion, the perfect exhaustion which over- 
 came her when she saw her chamber vacated 
 by Cavendish, was a confirmation in the mind 
 of the servant that something was rotten in the 
 state. 
 
 " It was some time before Louisa recovered 
 herself sufficiently to go through that long opera- 
 tion of the toilet, and she saw that her maid 
 was far from being the ready, obliging servant 
 she had ever been ; — ^her orders were sullenly, 
 silently obeyed ; the little chatter of household 
 scandal and womanly surmises were hushed ; 
 and Louisa felt most poignantly the suspicion 
 of her servant, and soon resolved to remove it. 
 
 " ' It is very odd,' she began, ' how that man 
 could have the impudence to intrude himself into
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 125 
 
 my bed-chamber, and have the audacity to lock 
 the door/ 
 
 " * Is that Mr. Cavendish, ma'am, the gentleman 
 who rode home with you last night P*" asked the 
 servant. 
 
 " ' Yes,' replied Louisa with some hesitation ; 
 " but I never saw him before yesterday.' 
 
 " ' Lord ! then,' said Mary, who had watched 
 the change in her mistress's countenance in the 
 looking-glass, before which she was sitting, and 
 apparently arranging her front air, whilst the 
 inquisitive servant was twisting the back, — Lord ! 
 then, I wonder how he came to be of the 
 party !' 
 
 " ' He intruded himself,' replied Louisa : 
 'he is an old friend of Harry's, and therefore 
 did not wait for an invitation.' 
 
 " ' Well, ma'am, it does astonish me,' conti- 
 nued the maid, ' how he should have known 
 this was your room. You couldn't have told 
 him last night when he had his hand round your 
 waist ?' 
 
 " ' What do you mean, Mary ? — what insolence 
 is this ?'
 
 126 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " ' Oh ! none, ma'am, I 'm sure ; only seeing is 
 believing, like, as the vulgar people say ; and I 
 have left the mark of the hand upon your habit, 
 you see, ma'^arn.' 
 
 " ' Ha, very likely, Mary, for he lifted me on 
 my saddle after I was thrown.' 
 
 " ' But that, ma'am, was before the storm came 
 on; 
 
 " ' It would better become you, Mary, to pay 
 attention to your own business than to make those 
 kind of remarks. If I account for it, that is suffi- 
 cient.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! poor dear Master Harry !' continued 
 Mary, ' if he knew it, — and the very day after he 
 left you too, — it would break his heart, that 's what 
 it would. Oh, how I do pity him ! that 's what 
 I do.' 
 
 *" I 'm sure,' replied Louisa, ' you are very 
 kind and tender-hearted ; but it occurs to me 
 that I am more to be pitied than he is. I wonder 
 what is to break his heart ?' 
 
 " ' Oh ! ma'am, he '11 hear it all : the commis- 
 sionnaires say you remained behind with Mr. 
 Cavendish, the servants know it was three o'clock
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 127 
 
 when you came home, and I'll take my bible 
 oath I saw him in this room before you were 
 out of bed. You need not look so, ma'am, — 
 thank God I speak the truth ! Not one of the 
 ladies have inquired after you; and if you had 
 been thrown, of course they would have done so. 
 Well, well, although I am a poor servant, I know 
 what 's right ; and I should be much obliged to 
 you, ma'am, to take this as a warning.' 
 
 " ' As a warning of what, you impudent jade ? 
 tell me directly,' said Louisa. 
 
 " ' I should like to better myself, ma'am, — I 
 can't stay with you now ; and when Mr. Harry 
 comes home, he '11 know it all, and I am sure he '11 
 leave you directly.' 
 
 '"I am sure you will leave me directly,' 
 replied Louisa, with all the calmness of virtue, 
 (that is, as far as she was innocent in the point 
 in question,) ' for such insolence I will never suffer. 
 Better would it have been, and more creditable, 
 for one woman to have assisted another, rather 
 than to have forsaken her mistress, even had 
 she been in error.' 
 
 «" Oh ! Lord, no, ma'am ; I never should get a
 
 1^ WALSINGHAM, 
 
 character if I remained with you now. All the 
 servants below have been a-talking about last 
 night's business, and some of them say you never 
 were the wife of poor dear Mr. Harry, and two of 
 the ladies saw the gentleman come out of the 
 room just now.' 
 
 " ' Leave me directly ; go out of the room this 
 instant, Mary.' 
 
 " * Oh yes, ma'am ; but I knows what I knows — 
 thank God I have got a clear conscience. I hope 
 you wer'n't much hurt by your fall last night, 
 ma'am ? If you don't require the month's warning, 
 I hope you '11 pay me my wages to-day, and it 's 
 not Mary Lancing who will trouble you, miss, 
 much longer, I '11 be bound for it, — that's what I 
 will.' And thus, very unlike the sounds of har- 
 monious music gradually diminishing in the dis- 
 tance, did this insolent Jezebel make herself heard 
 as she retired. 
 
 " ' Gome back, Mary,' said Louisa. The maid 
 obeyed. ' Fasten my dress behind; and tell them 
 to take breakfast into the saloon. Mind what I 
 tell you : if I find that you add one word to your 
 fellow-servants below, you will have some cause
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 129 
 
 to repent of it. I shall not discharge you until 
 Mr. Harry returns, in order that I may hear you 
 recount to him the anecdote of Mr. Cavendish's 
 insolence. The heart which knows its innocence 
 defies the slander and the malice of the world. 
 You will sit in this room, and take care that 
 no one is admitted into the saloon ; and you will 
 desire the master of the house to have another 
 bed placed here.' 
 
 " The cool manner in which Louisa pronounced 
 these words had their due effect upon Mary, 
 and she became a little less disposed to be lo- 
 quacious. 
 
 " Louisa knew the hasty temper, the suspicious, 
 jealous temper of Harry ; and in an instant she 
 saw the danger of discharging the maid before 
 his return. Safe in her own innocence, she had 
 resolved on the first instant of his arrival to 
 tell the whole unvarnished tale, and to call the 
 maid as an evidence of the intrusion of Caven- 
 dish ; and scarcely had this forlorn child of mis- 
 fortune matured her plan, when the idea of a 
 duel as the necessary consequence scared her 
 from her intention. However, this she parried 
 
 g5
 
 330 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 by the reflection, that if Harry had already brand- 
 ed Cavendish as a coward, little would the latter 
 heed the challenge. In all probability he would 
 decamp upon the first news of the arrival ; for 
 the man who seeks by words and deeds to ruin 
 the weak and to insult the forsaken, is not the 
 hero who would brave the battle to offer satis- 
 faction, or to court danger to gratify desire. Ca- 
 vendish was a systematic liar ; bold before those 
 he knew to be weaker than himself, — a coward 
 in his heart, a villain in his ideas. 
 
 " That day Louisa was neither inquired after by 
 her former associates, nor again molested by her 
 persecutor. One benefit counterbalanced the other 
 evil. Her worst enemy was her own thoughts, 
 her worst ally her own maid ; for, in spite of 
 advice or caution, the tongue of a lady's maid 
 is very little under control of the proper authority, 
 and wag it will, either for or against somebody. 
 
 " In this uncomfortable dilemma Louisa remain- 
 ed until Tuesday ; and four times had Mr. Caven- 
 dish attempted an entrance into the saloon, but 
 each time he found the door locked. He then 
 turned his attack upon the maid, and endeavoured
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 131 
 
 by bribes to gain her over to his interest. In this 
 he at first failed also ; for Mary was not so sure 
 the reports were gospel, — more especially as her 
 mistress retained a calmness of spirit which, if 
 all were true, she must have been more than 
 woman to have commanded. However, she pro- 
 mised to assist Cavendish, and, after some scru- 
 ples, took the bribe. On this Tuesday a letter 
 arrived from Harry, mentioning his probable ar- 
 rival that evening. The letter was couched in affec- 
 tionate terms, and hinting his having drawn large- 
 ly, and secured sufficient for their future wants ; 
 and, in conclusion, intimated his firm resolution 
 once more to try his fortune in order to recover 
 his losses. Her eye brightened as she read the 
 letter ; there was a marked aifection throughout, 
 and she felt that if she could but wean him from 
 the vortex of dissipation by which he was whirled 
 in the giddy round of gambling, and which 
 would inevitably suck him down at last, his heart 
 was still hers, that better prospects might yet 
 dawn — that her character might be restored, if 
 not entirely saved. Scarcely had she finished this 
 letter when a waiter delivered her another ; — it
 
 132 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 was from Cavendish. She hesitated in opening 
 it. At first she thought it would be better to 
 place the letter into Harry's hand, with a solemn 
 assertion that she had opened it not knowing 
 from whom it came ; but that she was as igno- 
 rant of its contents as the unborn babe. Then 
 came female curiosity — certainly rather a strong 
 advocate for a hasty perusal, and then appeared 
 before her the magnanimous part of braving 
 all danger — she felt herself secure in the arrival 
 of Henry ; and therefore, yielding to the tempt- 
 ation and the triumph, she resolved to gratify 
 the laudable curiosity, and she read as follows, 
 wondering as she read, that he who could stoop 
 to the low artifices he had practised in endeavour- 
 ing to corrupt her maid, could pen such a letter, 
 with so much feeling and so much apparent open- 
 ness.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 133 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 *•' ' Dearest Louisa, 
 
 " ' The day is nearly arrived when, if you 
 regard a sacred promise, you will be mine. I 
 feel, however, that some apology is due to you 
 for the manner by which I obtained that pro- 
 mise, and my conduct since our return from Coo. 
 If any blame is to be attributed to me, remem- 
 ber that when a man loves, his reason forsakes 
 him, he sees but one object, he strives to gain 
 but one point — the very faculties and abilities 
 with which God may have blessed him fall into 
 disuse, and the passion for the object to be 
 obtained alone occupies his heart, his mind, his 
 soul, and his memory. My excuse for my un- 
 manly behaviour is that passion; for my intru- 
 sion into your bed-chamber, my love is the 
 culprit ; my whisperings against your reputation,
 
 134 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 my very conspiracy against your character, were 
 dictated by a feeling too fond to fear a difficulty, 
 and too sincere to be turned aside without a 
 desperate struggle. In this confession of my 
 love receive my apologies ; it is a virtue more 
 inherent in your sex than in ours to forgive. 
 I implore you now to consider me not as the 
 conspirer against your honour, but as the guar- 
 dian and protector of your innocence. Harry is 
 in England: a reconciliation has taken place 
 with his father upon the distinct promise that 
 he should abandon you ; and believe me that 
 even should he return, his object would be to 
 shake off the incumbrance — to rid himself of the 
 clog which he considers and which he has men- 
 tioned you to be as far as regards himself. 
 His love was a boyish passion, — it is satiated, 
 and he is cloyed ; you were his victim, and you 
 are to be sacrificed : but my affection shall con- 
 sole you for the loss of him who never merited 
 your attachment, and my sincerity shall be proved 
 in the many years I trust we are still destined 
 to live together. To-morrow I claim you as 
 mine ; everything shall be ready to convey you
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 135 
 
 hence, — your bill shall be discharged, and you 
 my own. Oh, can I forget that night of storms 
 and thunder, when, encircled in my arms, I hugged 
 you closer and closer to my bosom, giving and 
 receiving those warm and envied kisses which 
 monarchs might be proud to enjoy, and which 
 inspired me with new life, new prospects, and 
 new enjoyments ! It must be your care im- 
 mediately to circulate a report that he is sick 
 at Brussels, and that I have kindly offered my 
 services to convey you to him. Once freed from 
 Spa, my residence in any part of this world 
 depends upon yourself; your choice will be my 
 guide, your wish my law. I cannot conclude 
 this letter, for whilst I write it I seem in your 
 presence and conversing with you ; I watch with 
 rapture the bright flash of those dazzling eyes, 
 and seem to catch the murmurs of response which 
 flow from your envied lips. / will never whisper 
 to strangers a reproach against your fame, / 
 never will attempt to break the chain which love 
 has entwined around me ; and the more adversity 
 may press upon you, the closer I will wrap you 
 in my arms — the more sincere and lasting shall
 
 136 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 be my attachment. Farewell until to-morrow ! 
 a few lingering hours, and Cavendish and all his 
 fortune will be at your feet. Adieu, adieu, best 
 and fairest of God''s creatures !' 
 
 " She placed the letter in her bosom, and 
 heaving a deep sigh, threw herself upon her sofa. 
 ' What security," said she, ' has a woman — 
 a confiding, sincere woman — against a villain like 
 Cavendish? Who could believe this letter to 
 be as false as the villain's heart ? But happen 
 what may, never will I disgrace myself by being 
 the mistress of an unprincipled gambler.** 
 
 " Harry returned. Louisa rushed into his arms 
 and wept for joy. Some remnant of early virtue 
 still clung to my son, — even he could not re- 
 strain his tears ; he looked at her with one 
 of those fond impassioned looks, he gave way to 
 the feelings of his heart, and that moment was 
 a bright spark of happiness before it was entirely 
 extinguished. To Louisa's questions he replied 
 with an apparent candour. He had been, he said, 
 as far as Antwerp ; and there he managed to 
 procure a large some of money, which he had
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 137 
 
 placed in a bank at Brussels : he was now in 
 affluence, and again the smiles of the world 
 would enliven his retreat. Yet was there some- 
 thing so false, so hollow in his manner that 
 Louisa suspected what she did not dare to express. 
 * I thought,' said she, ' you had been in Eng- 
 land r 
 
 " The colour forsook his cheeks ; he answered 
 with a hasty voice, ' No ; I did not dare to 
 cross the water, for fear my father should learn 
 my return — and I,"* he added in a playful man- 
 ner, ' be made a prisoner.' 
 
 ** False, unhappy, ungenerous boy ! he had been 
 in England : he had discovered that I was in the 
 country ; he learnt from my bankers the injunc- 
 tions I had given relative to the non-payment of 
 his checks ; he had allowed sufficient time to 
 elapse for his visit to and return from Longdale 
 House ; he forged my name, and he received 
 five thousand pounds ^hich I had lodged a week 
 before at my bankers'*, and with which I had 
 intended to purchase some addition to my estate. 
 See — see, sir, the miseries — the crimes to which 
 gambling leads ! My son had nearly — very nearly
 
 ISS WALSINGHAM, 
 
 committed a murder ; he had broken the vow—the 
 recorded oath taken at the altar of his God ; he 
 had forsaken his wife, he had deceived his friend, 
 he had ruined the virtuous, he had plunged a 
 family into disgrace and misery, he had violated 
 the law of God, and now had sacrificed his life to 
 the laws of his country ; and yet was he young 
 in the iniquity which he afterwards so zealously 
 pursued ! As if, indeed, the path of crime was 
 strewed with flowers instead of thorns, — like the 
 tiger which has once tasted human flesh, like 
 the bloodhound that has once sucked human 
 blood, like the dog which has once pursued its 
 prey, or the hungry shark which follows the 
 pilot-fish to the bait — so followed my son the 
 disreputable course he had trodden — so lingered 
 he on the road to ruin and destruction, that they 
 both overtook him before he had the courage to 
 ' turn from his wickedness and live.** 
 
 " ' Harry, my love,"* continued Louisa, ' you 
 must arm yourself to hear something which re- 
 port has busily circulated, and which will stab 
 your generous heart to the core.' 
 
 " ' It cannot be V said the affrighted youth ;
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 139 
 
 ' SO quick — the rumour could not have reached Spa 
 already ! Then go, Louisa, — go, pack up every- 
 thing directly ; I will discharge the account ; we 
 must not linger one moment, — ill tidings never 
 tarry, and justice though tardy is sure.' — It was 
 the idea of the forging being discovered that 
 shook him. 
 
 " ' How kind, my Harry, thus to save my 
 character ! — this is again my own Harry ! Oh, 
 how I have longed for you ! That cruel, cruel 
 Cavendish circulated the report, and every one 
 at Spa credits it.' 
 
 " ' The devil blister his malicious tongue : 
 But quick — if I am suspected ' 
 
 " ' You, dearest Harry?' 
 
 '< ' Why, did you not say so ? — did you not 
 say the report had reached Spa ?' 
 
 " ' What report, Harry ? You are strangely 
 agitated.' 
 
 " 'Ay !' 
 
 " ' Four days ago Cavendish unmasked us ; 
 he ' 
 
 '' ' / live again ; it cannot be ! Now tell me 
 — I am calmer, more collected ; — the worry of the
 
 140 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 journey, the pleasure at again seeing you, my 
 father^s letter, all deranged me — I was dreaming, 
 I believe. — But, darling. Cavendish you were 
 speaking of, that imp of the devil — what of him ? 
 What has he said that the town should credit, 
 or that I should fear ?' 
 
 " ' You must be cooler, more collected, Harry, 
 before I begin ; I will not distress you the first 
 hour of your arrival : no, this moment is for love 
 returned, — and as I cling round your neck, and 
 kiss you thus, and thus, I feel all my cares 
 removed, all my wrongs redressed. But, Harry, 
 we had better leave Spa directly; and perhaps 
 it were better now to settle the account than to 
 risk it until to-morrow.' 
 
 " ' That I was prepared to do, and you speak 
 wisely in recommending the payment of the 
 account; for we gamblers are rich and honest 
 one moment, poor and ungenerous the next.' 
 
 " ' Tell your maid to get ready, and I will 
 ring for the bill this instant.' 
 
 " ' Mary,' said Louisa as the maid entered the 
 room, ' you must pack up our things to-night,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 141 
 
 for we leave Spa to-morrow morning early. Now 
 don't idle the time, but be quick.'' 
 
 " ' Am I, ma'am, to pack up master's things 
 also : do you go together ?' 
 
 " ' To be sure we do,' replied Harry. ' What 
 would you have a man travel in one carriage, 
 and his wife and his luggage in another ?' 
 
 " ' Certainly not," continued Mary ; ' but I 
 have told Miss, — I beg your pardon — Mrs., — that 
 I should provide myself with another place, and 
 I hope she will not require the month.' 
 
 " ' Indeed ! and pray, Mary, what may be the 
 reason of your sudden departure ?' asked Harry. 
 
 " ' To save my character, sir,' replied the im- 
 pudent creature. ' If we serves people like Miss 
 Louisa, we cannot get another place : but a lady 
 here, who knows that I was ignorant who she 
 was, has offered to take me ; and so, sir, if you 
 please to pay me my wages I shan't trouble you 
 to take me away with you.' 
 
 " ' What 's this ?' said Harry, looking at 
 Louisa. 
 
 " * Leave the room, Mary, and do as I told
 
 H2 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 you.' When alone with Harry, she explained 
 the story concerning the Coo party ; but she 
 neglected to state the whole truth, in order, if 
 possible, to save a personal rencontre : she had 
 suppressed the late ride, and the insult oifer- 
 ed to herself. Harry stamped and raved, not 
 for the actual discovery so much as that it 
 might lead people to watch their movements. 
 To shake off Louisa was his only idea : for him- 
 self, he was provided with a false passport ; he 
 could easily pursue his journey to Italy, under 
 the inserted name of Rockingham ; whilst those 
 who pursued him, if such pursuit occurred, would 
 follow his proper name, to whatever place the 
 forlorn Louisa might bend her steps. This had 
 been his plan, and this he had matured in his 
 journey from Antwerp. Here was an opening ; 
 time was scarce, the forgery would be dis- 
 covered, and he knew that the hounds of justice 
 would scent his track. His face betrayed the black 
 malignity of his heart ; he walked to and fro — 
 he answered not the inquiries of Louisa, who, 
 watching every working of his countenance, con- 
 tinued weeping in anxious suspense.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 143 
 
 " ' Cavendish never saw you before,' he at last 
 began ; ' you must have given him some en- 
 couragement, Louisa, or he would not have dared 
 to have divulged what I so unguardedly uttered. 
 From his lips will I learn the truth this instant, 
 and before I return I will have fathomed the 
 lowest depth of this intrigue. Take care of this 
 money until I come back : if it is as I suspect, 
 we part for ever to-morrow moming."* 
 
 " The clouds of misfortune which had collected 
 slowly over the devoted head of Louisa were now 
 about to burst. She threw herself on the sofa 
 and gave vent to the bitterness of her feelings. 
 For him she had sacrificed 
 
 * State, station, heaven, mankind, her own esteem ;' 
 and now to be suspected, now to be cast like 
 a loathsome weed to rot in negligence— mayhap 
 to wander a convicted prostitute over the face 
 of the earth to be spumed from the door she 
 had refused to enter — to be a houseless vagrant, 
 a byword and a scorn .' 
 
 " The interview with Cavendish was short. He 
 advanced what Harry was too ready to credit : 
 from him was elicited the late ride, and with it
 
 144 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 the assertion that Louisa had proposed it ; that 
 from her light behaviour her company had desert- 
 ed her ; that he had been admitted into her bed- 
 chamber ; and that, in fact, it was useless to 
 quarrel about a girl who was unworthy of credit. 
 Cavendish put the question in the darkest point 
 of view — the impossibility of the sudden desertion 
 of the females if something had not occurred, 
 and that since that day not one had called upon 
 her. He used every endeavour to persuade 
 Harry to desert her, and advised him to examine 
 the maid as a confirmation of his statement. 
 
 " Mary was loquacious when her opinion was re- 
 quired. The disordered state of the dress, the con- 
 fusion of the story relative to the fall, the print of 
 the hand round the waist, and her solemn oath 
 that on entering the room she found Mr. Caven- 
 dish by the bed-side, the door having been locked, 
 and she desired not to disturb her mistress until 
 she was summoned ; — to a naturally jealous man 
 this would have excited painful suspicions ; but to 
 a man resolved to part from a woman, and who 
 considered his own safety as compromised as long 
 as his name remained the same, and so long as his
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 145 
 
 movements must be traced should he be encum 
 bered with a family, it was quite sufficient. He 
 now made preparations for his departure without 
 saying a word to Louisa. The false passport had 
 been viseed at Brussels for Geneva ; and his own, 
 in which Louisa appeared as his wife, was viseed at 
 Spa for Paris. He had two carriages — the lightest 
 he took for himself ; and he ordered the horses to 
 be ready at half-past nine, at which hour it was 
 dark. Now came the parting scene. He cautiously 
 avoided entering the house until a quarter after 
 nine. He had seen every preparation made, and 
 actually saw the horses harnessed ; and when as- 
 sured that his retreat would be instantaneous, he 
 wound up his cowardly determination, and forcing 
 over his countenance the gloominess of disgust, 
 he entered the apartment. There was Louisa 
 sobbing upon the sofa, her face buried ia her 
 hands. She saw him not, she heard him not ; but 
 she started like a detected criminal when she 
 heard his deep-toned voice pronounce her name. 
 She rushed towards him — she extended her arms, 
 she would have fallen into his, but — with a slow 
 and measured pace he withdrew. He waved to her 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 to be seated; he repulsed her advance, and he 
 checked even the current of affection. * Louisa,'' 
 he said, ' we must part for ever. I could have 
 borne much — nay, more than most men ; but when 
 I think of the sacrifice I made for you — when I 
 see before me the attenuated form of my wife 
 rising now to mock me for my base abandonment 
 of her, and rebuking me for my violated oath, for 
 one who has now deserted me, or has caused me 
 by her shameless behaviour to become an outcast 
 in my own home, and who, in her selection of a 
 betrayer, has taken the only man on earth hated 
 and despised — a man who was and is a gamester 
 and a villain ! I can neither forgive nor forget 
 the insult. Louisa, we must part. Your guilt "* 
 
 " ' Oh, no, no, no ! Hear me, Harry ! By hea- 
 vens, I am as innocent as unspotted snow, saving 
 in the sacrifice I have made to you !"* 
 
 " ' What ! can guilt and impudence be carried 
 so far ? — But it is useless. Did you not remain 
 behind until dark at Coo to ride alone over those 
 desert hills with Cavendish ?** 
 
 " ' No, never : it is true I did wait, and it is 
 true he rode home with me.'
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 147 
 
 " * Then why conceal this from me when you 
 accused him to me this morning ? The fall you 
 omitted, sweet innocence ! and there on your habit 
 remains the firm print of the hand of that scoun- 
 drel Cavendish, and in a position which was never 
 required to place you again on the horse.' 
 
 " ' Oh, Harry, Harry, you will break my heart ! 
 Can you believe — you whom I have loved as few 
 ever loved — that I would disgrace myself with a 
 mere stranger T 
 
 " ' Did you consider it no disgrace when you 
 escorted him to your chamber, and when you 
 locked the door?' 
 
 " ' What infamous liar has thus poisoned my 
 Harry's words ? It is false — as false as I am true ! 
 He did, force himself, when I was asleep, into my 
 room, and locked the door ; but ask if my bell did 
 not summon assistance.' 
 
 " ' Such timid creatures as my innocent Louisa,' 
 retorted Harry with a sneer, ' might have locked 
 their own doors in a public hotel.' 
 
 '"■ ' You cannot believe it ! My worst suspicions 
 are confirmed — you havt been in England, and in 
 the shame which rises on your countenance I see 
 
 H 2
 
 1 ^8 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 the confirmation of the report, — you have agreed 
 to abandon me, to screen yourself, and you have 
 basely consented to sacrifice the innocent to save 
 the guilty. — But, Harry, you are ill. Oh pardon 
 me the words your sneer forced from me ! take 
 me again to your arms, confide in me, and life it- 
 self should be wasted in serving you. Oh, Harry, 
 Harry, remember me as I was when I first yielded 
 to your love ! — think of the ruin I have spread over 
 my aged parents, and how the daughter on whom 
 all kindness was lavished has brought her mother's 
 grey hairs with sorrow to the grave ! Remember 
 that it was under the most solemn promise of my 
 marriage, should death free you from the being 
 you deserted — that was the last persuasion which 
 shook my resolution ; and now, oh shame, shame I 
 to listen to a man you have branded as coward — 
 to heed the whisper of an impertinent maid, when 
 I stand here to vindicate my own suspected cha- 
 racter !' 
 
 " Harry was staggered at the boldness of the 
 appeal, and as the guilty are always timid, he did 
 not bear the look of innocence without faltering. 
 Now he felt it more requisite than ever to break 
 from her ; he uttered in a low voice, ' It is useless,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 149 
 
 Louisa, — the proofs are too strong, even the most 
 incredulous would waver. True, too true is the say- 
 ing, ' the once fallen woman must for ever fall." I 
 might have known that she who sacrificed herself 
 to me at the expense of her own virtue would only 
 be true until another fancy occupied her mind : I 
 see, I am convinced against my will of your guilt ; 
 the ride, the fall, the room. Cavendish's own w^ords, 
 your maid"'s report, your own suspicious man- 
 ner ' 
 
 " ' Hear me, Harry, this once. By all I ever 
 held sacred — by my mother whose heart I have 
 broken, by my father who has disowned me, by my 
 God who has deserted me, I am not guilty — I 
 never harboured one thought against you ; and now 
 I will never leave you — nay, start not, you shall 
 tear me from your heart, and shall spurn me from 
 this embrace, but leave you I will not — cannot. 
 As she vehemently expressed these sentiments, 
 she wound her arms round his neck. 
 
 " ' Away then, false woman !' continued Har- 
 ry ; and as in the struggle he endeavoured to un- 
 twine her arms. Cavendish's letter fell from its 
 hiding-place. 
 
 " ' What 's this ?' said Harry : ' a letter, by
 
 150 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 heavens ! and by a strange hand. Let us see who 
 is the favoured swain of my innocent Louisa. — 
 Ah, from Cavendish ! Lovers' letters begin any- 
 where ; — what 's this I read ! — " Can I forget that 
 night of storms and thunder, when, encircled in 
 my arms, I hugged you closer and closer to my bo- 
 som, giving and receiving those warm and envied 
 kisses" — ^ Hence, horrible, false, perjured, im- 
 pudent woman ! thus I destroy the evidence against 
 you."* 
 
 " * Oh, Harry, tear it not, — save it, save it ! 
 The first part will prove my innocence. Justice, 
 justice, — Harry, even the murderer is not denied 
 that !' 
 
 " ' Away, — your very breath is pollution since 
 you breathed upon that villain ! — Kisses given 
 and received, — the very letter warmed near her 
 treacherous heart, and not one word said about 
 the correspondence ! — Go, go V 
 
 " ' Oh, where — where can I go ? Hear me, 
 Harry, I implore you V 
 
 " * Go anywhere, rather than in my footsteps. 
 Unhand me, I say ! What still clinging. Then 
 thus, thus I rid myself of my burthen — of the 
 falsest, the most treacherous of females !'
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 151 
 
 " With these words he flung her from him. The 
 poor girl fainted upon the floor; when Harry, 
 throwing some notes upon the table, rushed down 
 stairs, got into his carriage ; and before the forlorn, 
 neglected Louisa recovered from the stupor, Harry 
 had left her for ever and for ever, and was far on 
 his road from Spa. 
 
 " It is here alone that I attempt to vindicate my 
 son ; for, leaving the forgery question aside, and 
 considering merely the evidence as brought before 
 him, the most confident would have wavered. 
 Had he read the letter, he would have been con- 
 vinced of her innocence — had she shown it at once, 
 it would have disarmed suspicion : but who is 
 there cool and collected at all times ? who can 
 tamely hear himself suspected of a crime, and still 
 retain the outward show of innocence ? Harry was 
 a villain in his heart, and I forgive him the forgery 
 rather than the abandonment of Louisa. But it 
 is ever so : the gamester cannot love — the excite- 
 ment of play paralyses every other passion ; and the 
 woman who has a husband a gamester can never 
 know the real joy of domestic happiness. Game- 
 sters are generous, because hope is ever liberal : 
 their generosity arises from the unknown value of
 
 152 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 riches ; he who is accustomed to throw down hun- 
 dreds upon one chance is not likely to inspect a 
 bill, or quarrel about its amount. I feel myself 
 overpowered by my exertion now, and therefore 
 shall become a borrower on your hospitality for 
 another day. But we must leave Louisa to her des- 
 tiny until the fate of my Harry shall be disclosed. 
 Good night, Robert ! I hope the lesson already 
 given may not be useless ; and when you pass 
 before your mind the memory of Louisa, prepare 
 yourself for the natural consequence of one false 
 step in a woman^s life.''
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 153 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The day over, the dinner finished, they again 
 dre"w near the fire, and the old gentleman con- 
 tinued his story. It is requisite to observe, how- 
 ever, that he kept Robert in profound ignorance 
 as to his name ; and he seemed to watch him nar- 
 rowly during the day, more to see how he oc- 
 cupied his time than with the desire of disagree- 
 ably spying into his pursuits. He himself seemed 
 busy about some papers which he read and altered ; 
 but he kept always the opposite extremity of the 
 table from Douglas, and appeared very careful to 
 conceal his occupations. As he was evidently an 
 uncommon acquaintance, Robert took care not to 
 offend him, and cautiously abstained from glan- 
 cing his eye towards him. This seemed to satisfy 
 him, and age and youth lived together har- 
 moniously. 
 
 H 5
 
 154 
 
 " We left my son," the old gentleman re- 
 sumed, " flying from Louisa, and endeavouring 
 to fly from himself. That, however, is no easy 
 matter; and the man who bears about him an 
 eternal hell in his own conscience, never knows 
 the comfort of one moment's ease ; — he is haunted 
 by the remembrance of his crimes, he becomes a 
 coward, he fears the glance of the stranger, and in 
 every bush imagines an officer. Harry had now 
 assumed the name of Rockingham — as such he was 
 designated on his passport, and he determined to 
 vary his route in such a manner as to dodge any 
 pursuer. He had left his servant behind at Spa, 
 and passing through Aix-la-Chapelle, he directed 
 his course towards Cologne, alone. At Cologne 
 he hired a domestic, something between a cou- 
 rier and a rascal, and having shipped himself and 
 his carriage he proceeded by the Rhine some few 
 leagues, when he landed again, and taking post- 
 horses made all despatch towards France, through 
 which he travelled until he arrived at Cleremont, a 
 village between Amiens and Paris, and not fre- 
 quented, although in the high road, by many tra- 
 vellers. 
 
 " His first care was to get the English papers
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 155 
 
 from the time of the forgery ; but although every 
 police report was scanned with guilty exactness, 
 yet not one word could he discover tending to 
 alarm him. The fact is, that the very day after he 
 had forged the check, I arrived in town to com- 
 plete my purchase, and on examining my account 
 I saw at once that something wrong had occurred. 
 Being well aware of the desperate behaviour of my 
 son, my suspicion fell on him ; and on asking who 
 received the money, I was told my son, and yes- 
 terday. I knew what would be the consequence 
 of my avowing the forgery, and made no further 
 remark than that some more stock must be sold 
 out, and gave the directions for its being done ; 
 consequently nothing was ever known of the trans- 
 action, and you are the only living creature who 
 is a partner in the secret. 
 
 " After sufficient time had elapsed, in order 
 to lull him into security, my son despatched his 
 servant to Paris to make diligent inquiries con- 
 cerning the family of the Stanhopes ; and having 
 heard that they had long since left Paris and 
 were residing in Rome, he decided on the des- 
 perate resolution of returning to the French me- 
 tropolis. He took up his quarters in the Hotel
 
 156 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 Mirabeau, in the Rue de la Paix, and seemed 
 resolved to husband his remaining resources. 
 
 " At this time my wife died. She had en- 
 deavoured to trace her son ineffectually ; and I, 
 enraged as I was against him for his shameless be- 
 haviour to me, wished her not to succeed. I had 
 hoped that, deprived of money, and now awake to 
 his misguided mode of life, he would have re- 
 turned like a second prodigal son, and sued for for- 
 giveness : I therefore kept back my wife's letters, 
 little dreaming that her end was so near. 
 
 " She died of the sudden rupture of a blood-ves- 
 sel. She had been my companion for twenty-five 
 years ; and although we may have occasionally dif- 
 fered in opinion, yet we never once quarrelled, or 
 allowed the sun to go down upon our displeasure. 
 Her words were few after the accident, but those 
 were all for her lost Harry. She exacted a solemn 
 promise of my forgiveness, and. she urged me to 
 inculcate virtue in the breast of her son. In the 
 very agonies of death her voice feebly gurgled, 
 ' My son, my son !"* and as, in the last floating 
 vision of the imagination, she stretched forth heir 
 arms to press him to her heart, she died and left
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 157 
 
 me alone in tlie world. This event detained me 
 in England, for my grief was not feigned : no one 
 can tell, who has not experienced it, the loss of a 
 wife, — she who for a quarter of a century has been 
 your hourly companion,who has watched your wants 
 and relieved them — who has assuaged the fever of 
 sickness, and comforted the wounded in spirit. 
 Day has succeeded day, and night, night ; yet 
 never has the morning dawned without a prayer 
 for her, or my evening's address to the Almighty 
 been offered without recurrence to her name ; and 
 if the supplications of an infirm pilgrim before he 
 lays down his staff and scrip be acceptable in the 
 sight of Heaven, she shall know the affection of 
 her husband, she shall rejoice over his prayer for 
 her eternal salvation."" 
 
 It was some time before the aged companion 
 recovered himself sufficiently to proceed, and 
 Robert began to be apprehensive that the exertion 
 had overpowered him. He rallied, however, in 
 a quarter of an hour, and Robert entreated him 
 not to continue the recital which caused him so 
 much pain, and which so agitated his mind. 
 
 " It is my duty," he replied, — '' you must know
 
 158 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 all ; the time may come when your knowledge of 
 these truths may be beneficial to you. I am 
 better now, and, thank God, have passed one 
 of the most wretched periods in the anecdote 
 of my unfortunate existence ; and now for the 
 end. In the end of Harry, how often have I used 
 the words of the great poet, 
 
 * In all thy visitations, gracious Heaven ! 
 Save me, oh save me from that dreadful curse, 
 A disobedient child !' 
 
 and sometimes have I been so wicked as almost to 
 arraign the justice of Providence in having cursed 
 me with an ungrateful boy. The usual announce- 
 ment in the papers met the eye of Harry ; and 
 it is one redeeming virtue, amidst the multitude 
 of his sins, that he dropped a tear for the me- 
 mory of his departed parent. It appeared by 
 some letters, or rather copies, found in his drawer, 
 that he meditated suing for forgiveness ; for one 
 half sheet, on which was written the effort at 
 reconciliation, confessed all the errors of his life, 
 and gave an earnest of future amendment. Had 
 this been sent, he had been saved, and I might 
 have died in contentment.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 159 
 
 *' The grief for his mother's loss soon passed, 
 and he once again ventured into the vortex of 
 dissipation. Gaming is never eradicated; it 
 may be apparently smothered, but the fire still 
 bums — the smoke still testifies its existence, and 
 it requires but the slighest air to fan it into a 
 flame. Harry became wretched in his soli- 
 tude ; for idleness can never exist without a 
 victim, — there must be some one to be pester- 
 ed, some one to be bored with the eternal en- 
 deavour of the idle to rid themselves of them- 
 selves. 
 
 " Again had Harry recourse to gaming. Fear- 
 ful of being recognised at the Salon, apprehensive 
 that the silence in the papers was a plan in order 
 to discover his retreat, he never ventured out 
 until dark ; and then, instead of visiting the more 
 gentlemanly resorts of Frascati's and the Salon, 
 he crept, away to the Palais Royal, and there, 
 in number 154, soon managed to reduce his 
 income and to lose his capital. It was now 
 that all the bad passions of his heart started 
 from their lurking-place. He who had forged had 
 murdered, had lied, had deceived, was not a man
 
 160 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 over-scrupulous of the means by which his 
 purse was to be filled. The habits of his 
 youth, the splendour to which he had been 
 accustomed, still retained some command : he 
 could not descend to the low manner of living 
 so common to those chevaliers diindustrie who 
 infest the French metropolis, having rooms filled 
 with borrowed furniture to deceive their victim 
 as to their resources, but who feed in seclusion, 
 or who vegetate in obscurity. Money was now 
 the idol of his heart. The less he had, the more 
 he coveted ; thus reversing the line which the 
 schoolboy gets drilled into him when he blunders 
 over his Latin grammar. To commit another for- 
 gery on me was not so easy ; for his checks 
 having been previously paid with a notice that no 
 more would be paid, he was afraid to face the 
 bankers, to whom he was personally known, and 
 who without a letter of credit most certainly 
 would not assist him. It then occurred to him, 
 that whilst liis creditable appearance was still 
 evident, he had better resort to the Salon, and 
 there boiTow some money from the croupiers : 
 they all knew him when his riches flowed in a 
 rapid stream, and tended to enrich the large river
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 161 
 
 of ruin to which they were contributory. He 
 had already been driven to part with some rings, 
 and a watch which in the moments of his afflu- 
 ence he had bought : day after day brought him 
 nearer and nearer to desperation, and already had 
 the villanous modes of procuring resources been fa- 
 miliar to his mind. Accordingly, having dressed 
 himself with much more care than usual, he enter- 
 ed that palace of ingenuity, that hotbed of ruin, 
 that golden lure to wretchedness, the Salon des 
 Etrangers. The servants recognised him at a 
 glance, and he passed to the receiving-room. 
 The noble marquis then at the head of the es- 
 tablishment greeted him cordially ; and when the 
 merry caster rattled the dice in the box, and 
 called out ' a sept,'' Harry's soul seemed to bound 
 with delight. He was soon at the table, and 
 soon forgot all his cares in the excitement of play. 
 He lost his all, — at that moment he had not one 
 farthing in the world. He who could have com- 
 manded thousands was now a beggar, and would 
 have been a cheat to have gained a napoleon. 
 He called one of the servants, with the practised 
 air of a man of fortune, and commanded rather
 
 162 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 than asked for two thousand francs : it was brought 
 immediately. Harry had been known as a man 
 of fortune ; his gallantries had been circulated ; and 
 such is Fame, that he whose heart was hardened 
 in sin and iniquity, was trumpeted forth as a 
 dashing fellow, to whom fortune had been gene- 
 rous, and to whom most women had been kind. 
 This is a species of vanity to which most French- 
 men aspire : a slight intrigue with your best 
 friend'*s wife, a trifling incestuous intercourse, the 
 seduction of your brother'^s daughter, the murder 
 of some half-dozen of old companions in duels, 
 tend more to elevate than to ruin the character 
 of the hero. A Frenchman is always vain of 
 his success with women, and his unerring aim 
 in a duel : they talk of it as pleasing trifles, and 
 as they sip their claret at the cafes, they defame 
 their victims either in virtue or courage. The 
 evening grew towards a close. Harry had not been 
 very unsuccessful, for on his return to the hotel 
 he deposited seventy napoleons on the table ; 
 so that he lost thirty, besides what money he took 
 with him. 
 
 " It was now that reflection, the tax of memory,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 163 
 
 came too late. To enjoy a sound sleep, to awake re- 
 freshed from his slumbers, to have been blessed with 
 happy dreams such as the remembrance of happy 
 hours might produce, were unknown to him : he 
 lay in a feverish kind of slumber, and not un- 
 frequently some of the servants had overheard 
 him scream during the night. His conscience 
 was his hell. Never did the warning of that 
 natural monitor ever slumber ; by day, by night, 
 the sentinel kept his post : he had been placed 
 there by the commission of sin, and returning 
 virtue and returning repentance came not to re- 
 lieve him from his labours. The works of ima- 
 gination founded on the scriptural representa- 
 tions of the last abode for the wicked frightened 
 not Harry so much as the conscience that bade 
 him turn at every step to see if the hounds of 
 justice were on the scent : his moral courage had 
 flown — he dared not to look beyond the grave, 
 although he would gladly have courted it to 
 have buried his present fears and reproaches. It 
 was this maddening, unceasing fire which con- 
 sumed him. No longer was the stamp of health 
 and youth upon his sallow cheek or sunken eye ;
 
 164 WALSIXGHAM, 
 
 no longer did he dare to look the man with whom 
 he conversed in the face, — his only courage was 
 borrowed from wine, his only relief in the stronger 
 excitement of play. 
 
 " ' There,"* said he to himself, — ' there is the 
 last heap of gold I am ever destined to enjoy. To 
 enjoy ! — no, no, that is past for ever ! How am 
 I to repay this ? I have promised on the Thurs- 
 day following to discharge the debt : I have not 
 a friend to w^hom I can apply ; I dare not, under 
 my own name, again commit a theft upon my 
 father. Oh, my poor wife ! driven to the grave 
 by me ! Would that I had listened to your just 
 censures, and, in turning to her w^ho loved me 
 beyond all love, have left the paths of dissipa- 
 tion and of idleness ! But now And there 's 
 
 Louisa too, an outcast from the world, a common 
 prostitute ; or, perhaps, which galls me ten thou- 
 sand times more, the mistress, the associate, the 
 companion of Cavendish, — that devil who lured 
 me to destruction, and by whose arts I w^as driven 
 to commit the forgery. Well, then, I am re- 
 solved, since I cannot struggle against misfortune, 
 I will overcome it. It was then for the first
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 165 
 
 time he thought of suicide. He carefully marked 
 down upon paper his various arguments in favour 
 of and against the act. His conclusion, which 
 was erroneous, — ^was this, that any man was 
 warranted to lay down a load he was too fa- 
 tigued to carry. He argued not upon the pre- 
 sumption of rushing unsummoned into the pre- 
 sence of his Maker with all his imperfections 
 on his head. To him relief from life was 
 relief from care: all pleasures had fleeted away; 
 — so young and so wretched, 'twas hard to 
 bear, when by a struggle, when by the slight- 
 est motion of a nervous finger, the trigger 
 would rid him of himself. It was then he 
 loaded his pistols ; but he deferred placing the 
 copper-caps in their final situation. He looked 
 at them, he put them to his forehead, and say- 
 ing ' Why, it is only doing as much as I have 
 done, and all is over,' ' / 7/ do it "* was dash- 
 ed on the paper, ' but 1 11 live until my creditor 
 is clamorous.' 
 
 " It was on Monday morning that he met two 
 Englishmen whom he had frequently seen at the dif- 
 ferent gaming-houses. They were anxious to make
 
 166 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 Harry's acquaintance, and be was by no means 
 averse to the introduction. They bowed as they 
 passed, and Harry stopping, they turned round 
 and soon were in conversation. All talked of 
 their losses, but of their resolution to return 
 again to recover or to sink lower, and in order 
 to suggest some plan of play they dined together. 
 An intimacy was thus established, and from that 
 day until Wednesday morning they were fre- 
 quently together. 
 
 " ' Why, Rockingham,' said Musgrove, 'they 
 treated you rudely last night : you must have 
 lost a precious deal — some thousands of franks, 
 I am sure ; for I overheard the servants doubting 
 if they should advance you more money, and 
 
 although they called you by some other name ' 
 
 Harry's face grew red in a trice. ' Have you 
 been there this morning to repay them ?' con- 
 tinued Musgrove. 
 
 '' ' No,' replied Harry ; * to-morrow I shall 
 discharge all my debts in full, and satisfy the most 
 greedy creditor. By-the-bye, vsdll you both dine 
 with me to-day at the Mirabeau ? and after dinner
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 167 
 
 we can stroll to that infernal place, and so kill 
 the evening.' 
 
 '' Both accepted the invitation. The dinner 
 was fixed for seven o'clock — a late hour in Paris, 
 and Harry hastened homewards to give the 
 necessary directions. 
 
 " At this time and at this hour I was in Paris. 
 No sooner had I discharged my duties to my 
 wife than I turned to reclaim my son. A letter 
 from a friend of mine, my banker there, apprised 
 me of my son's being in Paris : he had, he said 
 in his letter, seen him at a cafe, and although 
 he had not spoken to him, yet he was sure of 
 his face. I lost no time in putting my scheme 
 in progress : I had resolved to break in upon 
 his solitude, and by tears arid entreaties to re- 
 call him to the fondest and most affectionate 
 of parents. At Calais I hired a carriage and 
 proceeded to the capital ; but, oh, how slow — very 
 slow we appeared to progress ! Half way on 
 every stage the postilion stopped to take his 
 glass of brandy. In vain I urged him on by pro- 
 mises of better pay — he smoked with the in-
 
 168 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 difference of a Turk, and liis whip hung over 
 his shoulders in idleness. I rebuked him — he 
 drove slower ; when I recollected the proverb, 
 ' that no two animals were so obstinate as a 
 donkey and a French postilion/ I found all 
 entreaties vain, and I threw myself back in the 
 can-iage, resolved to pay no more than the tariff. 
 I will not weary you with the account of the 
 most tedious journey I ever took in my life. 
 The hope of arrival perhaps cheered me in my 
 affliction, and when I drove into the court-yard 
 of Meurice's, T bounded from my imprisonment 
 with the step and the vigour of youth. My first 
 care was to examine the list of visitors at the 
 hotel. I found no trace of Harry. Then re- 
 collecting that he always had resided at the 
 Hotel des Princes, I proceeded instantly to the 
 Rue Richelieu. From them I gained no informa- 
 tion. I then in despair — for Paris is a capital 
 concealing place — went to the police. The offi- 
 cers afforded me every information they possessed 
 with that urbanity for which they are so justly 
 praised ; but here I was unsuccessful again. I
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 169 
 
 then called at the banker's : they had not seen 
 him — at least at their bureau. I inquired at 
 every hotel — yes, even at the Mirabeau — but with 
 no better success, until, wearied and fatigued, I 
 returned to place myself at a dinner I could not 
 eat, and to be in society whilst I felt most lonely. 
 I had not slept for three nights previous to this. 
 I felt myself a desert tree in a wilderness ; my 
 only hope, my only aim, was the recovery of my 
 son. I pictured to myself a delight, to which 
 none but a parent is sensible, in throwing my 
 arms round my boy and lavishing forgiveness. 
 Fatigue, however, overcame me : a man at my 
 age soon feels the frost of years nipping his en- 
 deavours. I could not keep awake, and yet I 
 was unwilling to sleep. At last the thought oc- 
 curred to me to visit the different gaming- 
 houses ; but some of my companions of the 
 table d'hote happening to be in conversation 
 concerning these very places, from them I 
 gleaned that no man of any pretensions to the 
 name of a gentleman frequented the low houses 
 in the Palais Royal, and that the play never 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 began at the Salon until after midnight, or at 
 any rate the company were few until the opera 
 was over. I then retired to my room, left orders 
 to be called at eleven, and throwing myself upon 
 my sofa, was soon fast asleep.'**
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 171 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "Harry had determined to free himself from 
 his worldly debts ; he had wound himself up to 
 the mark, and he now sat down to do the last 
 act of grace before he mingled with society, bor- 
 rowing from wine the spirit which nature, with 
 such a load upon his mind, and such fearful re- 
 sults, denied him. I have mentioned that he 
 seldom walked out in the day-time, and from 
 the moment of his parting with his new acquaint- 
 ances he returned to his room and penned a let- 
 ter to me. He had desired his servant to pack up 
 his clothes, and had given him to understand that 
 he should cross to England on the Friday ; at 
 the same time he ordered his bills at the hotel 
 to be prepared and sent up to him, leaving the 
 dinner account as a separate charge. His desk 
 he carefully examined, and he destroyed every 
 
 i2
 
 172 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 letter he had ever received either from his wife 
 or Louisa. There was a small locket containing 
 some hair of the former, which he wrapped up 
 in paper, and on the outside were these words : — 
 ' For my father." It was placed inside the let- 
 ter, which was directed to me at my country 
 residence, and which I have here, as I knew 
 that this evening would bring me to the end 
 of my history. 
 
 " ' This is the last act an ungrateful, an unge- 
 nerous, and an undutiful son will commit before he 
 goes hence and is no more seen. My life is 
 now fast growing to a close ; and when the clock 
 of the Timbre^ strikes the hour of midnight, 
 my father will be childless, and his son in eter- 
 nity. It is not, best of parents, trifles which have 
 driven me to this act of desperation ; he who has 
 played the deep game of life which I have play- 
 ed is already dead : — a wife driven to destruction ; 
 the daughter of my friend seduced, and left with- 
 out a protector and without a farthing ; myself 
 a forger — a man condemned by the laws of 
 
 * The Timbre, or Stamp-office, is almost directly oppo- 
 site the Hotel Mirabeau.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 173 
 
 his country, and condemned also by himself; a 
 mother perhaps hurried to her grave broken-hearted 
 through my faults ; a father declining into his tomb 
 without the natural prop to support or to comfort 
 him. I could not live, for I am ashamed of exist- 
 ence. I would not breathe to be a by-word and 
 a scorn — to have the finger of contempt pointed 
 at me — to hear the tongue of insolence upbraid me 
 for my forfeited life — to be sneered at by those 
 whose society I once shunned — to be shunned by 
 those I once courted. I leave this world its debt- 
 or; and as I depart, having swindled those who 
 have ruined me, so likewise I depart cheating the 
 executioner of his due, without one friend to 
 close my eyes, or without a companion to receive 
 my last words. I have now conquered myself, — 
 I have divested death of its terrors by shrouding 
 life in horror. To you I now turn, my father 
 and my friend, to implore that forgiveness which 
 I dare not supplicate from my God, — to call from 
 your heart one tear, and from your voice, when it is 
 raised to your Maker, one word in my behalf. 
 Forgive me, father ! forget your repentant but 
 your still affectionate son. I know my errors,
 
 174 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 and I confess them. It is an awful thing t6 
 stand upon the brink of eternity — to know that 
 to-morrow's sun, which shall rise and shine upon 
 this gay and dissolute world, shall never more be 
 looked on by me ; it is hard at my tender age 
 to go down into the grave whilst the hissings 
 and the hootings of my fellow-creatures shall fol- 
 low the dead with their reproaches and revilings. 
 Still, I feel that your prayer — your blessing — shall 
 not be withheld. I stretch my arms towards my 
 father, and in the fancied embrace I throw my 
 soul to my God, and my last word to my parent. 
 — Farewell ! farewell ! for ever farewell ! As I 
 have shunned you in this world, I cannot be so 
 presumptuous as to dream of meeting your purer 
 spirit in the next ; but may the great God, the 
 sovereign disposer of all things, so fortify your 
 heart, that you may receive this with becoming 
 resolution, and accept the last prayer, — the last 
 word for your welfare, from your devoted — I dare 
 not say your dutiful son. Amen.' 
 
 "In a less firm hand, and apparently written 
 nearer his end, he calls upon me to protect 
 Louisa."
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 175 
 
 During the time the old gentleman was reading 
 this letter, he became dreadfully agitated, and 
 Douglass was so overcome, that he was unable 
 almost to breathe. He swallowed the very effort 
 at tears, for he felt that he might be called to 
 administer some relief to his companion. The old 
 gentleman recovered after some minutes, and con- 
 tinued : — 
 
 " Seven o'clock came, and with it his company. 
 They were but three in all, and a repast had 
 been prepared sufficient for ten. Every dainty 
 of the season had been ordered, and wines the 
 most luscious had been cooled. It was singular 
 that my son should have actually written down 
 the dishes he had provided ; and on several small 
 slips of paper were written a few words, some of 
 advice, some of warning: on one was 'Poor lost 
 Louisa I the world will use you worse than I 
 have done ; it has no pity for the unfortunate, no 
 tear for the afflicted ;' — and at the bottom of his 
 desk, although it was evidently written that day, 
 was a letter to Louisa, which I will hereafter read 
 to you. I mention these incidents to show how 
 capable the mind of man is to surmount every
 
 176 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 fear of death — if indeed shrouding life with hor- 
 rors can divest death of its terrors. The dinner 
 was announced and served. The conversation took 
 its turn from my son, who commenced in glow- 
 ing terms a vivid description of the luxuries of 
 life : from his exposition one would have imagin- 
 ed him surrounded by every desirable object, in 
 affluence, and with a conscience void of offence. 
 Then the scene was changed for that of the Salon : 
 he projected systems by which fortunate results 
 were certain ; he closely commented on the fair- 
 ness of the play, the advantages of the bank, and 
 his conviction that calculation could beat that 
 preponderance ; and even with the determination 
 to commit the rash act, he lied in words, for 
 he declared his intention of recovering his losses, 
 and talked of to-morrow as if to-morrow was to 
 dawn on him. Again the conversation changed, 
 and women became the theme of admiration : no 
 flush of guilt branded the cheek of the seducer ; 
 he revelled in luxurious description, and in his 
 vivid delineation no modesty interfered to check 
 the current of his discourse — it seemed to wanton 
 in the remembrance of the past, and he drew
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 177 
 
 from his own heart the picture most likely to warm 
 his companions. Neither was the wine spared, 
 nor the wit silent ; in short, it was a carouse cal- 
 culated to give his new associates the highest 
 opinion of his talents and his affluence. The 
 hours advanced, for his life was now pitted against 
 time, — and ' he who combats against that,' says 
 Johnson, 'has an enemy not subject to many 
 casualties.' The sand was rapidly oozing through 
 the glass of existence ; it wanted but one short 
 hour of death — the clock had already struck 
 eleven, yet no symptom of remorse for an ill- 
 spent life was visible ; he seemed to have passed 
 the worst, and only to dread solitude, — for when 
 his companions proposed to withdraw, having al- 
 ready drunk more than the cool gamester should 
 touch, m.y son asked as a favour that they would 
 remain until midnight, and then one glass should 
 
 be drunk to their future friendship and then. 
 
 It was remarked by Musgrove that a sudden pale- 
 ness blanched my son's cheeks ; but he recovered 
 himself, and placing some cigars on the table, — for 
 he had the ruling passion still in death, — he call- 
 ed for some brandy, and their conversation con-
 
 178 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 tinued. Eleven came, and I was called, refresh- 
 ed by my comfortable and sound sleep. I in- 
 stantly departed for those hells of infamy. I 
 entered Frascati's. There were sallow faces, start- 
 ing eyes, anxious looks, and horrible silence ; 
 around the board some women of low character 
 flitted, keeping the victims of passions — of unruly 
 passions — within their grasp ; but no Harry was 
 there. I scanned every countenance. I passed 
 round and round that table, but my son was 
 not anjongst those who debased their characters 
 or staked their fortunes. I now crossed the 
 Boulevards to the Salon. This golden region of 
 demoralization was open. The splendid lamps 
 shone through the windows, and the crowd of 
 servants waiting in the hall, all of whom belonged 
 to the establishment, convinced me that here my 
 son would be found ; for, in all his worst habits, 
 the love of low company had never been his 
 vice. I was denied admittance, as it was requi- 
 site I should be presented to the marquis, and he 
 had not arrived. I stated myself to be the father 
 of Harry ; and the waiter who had advanced the 
 money before mentioned, instantly infori|ed me
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 179 
 
 that my son was in Paris, and was expected 
 there after midnight. To my question of his 
 abode there was some delay ; but a book being 
 consulted, I was told he resided at the Hotel 
 Mirabeau. It wanted now but a quarter of 
 twelve ; and as the night was cold I resolved 
 to walk. With the firm step of happiness I pass- 
 ed along the Boulevards. I heeded not the bril- 
 liant cafes, I regarded not the hundreds who in- 
 terrupted my path ; I pushed through the crowds ; 
 I smiled within myself at the completion of my 
 happiness, and I felt more satisfaction at reclaim- 
 ing ray son, than if he had fallen at my feet, 
 and prayed for pardon. I rang at the hotel door ; 
 and as the porter pulled the string, I remember 
 the impetuous push I used to open the heavy 
 gates. I asked for my son — they knew him not ; 
 I looked at the list — no name like his was there. 
 I described him as I remembered him. The por- 
 ter shook his head ; at last he said, ' There is an 
 Englishman who lives here, and only one, but his 
 name is Rockingham ; here is a letter for some 
 one of the name you mentioned :' and he showed 
 me a note, which I afterwards found was an in-
 
 180 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 vitation to dinner at the Salon. I was con- 
 vinced Rockingham was my son — hope is not 
 easily extinguished ; I insisted on seeing that 
 Englishman, and after some little delay his ser- 
 vant was called to conduct me up stairs. At 
 that moment the clock at the Timbre struck the 
 hour of midnight. I heard a cheer — I recognised 
 the voice of my son — I flew to the door, and, oh ! 
 horror, horror ! no tongue can tell, no words ex- 
 plain, as I turned the latch I heard the report 
 of a pistol, and bursting through the apartment 
 and following the two companions, I arrived to 
 throw myself upon the bleeding corpse of my 
 son ! He never spoke — life was gone. In vain I 
 called upon him in all the fond accents of endear- 
 ment — he was gone, he was dead ! I pressed him 
 to my bosom, I chafed his temples— T hugged 
 him, kissed him, forgave him, blessed him, — 
 but, ah ! no words responded to mine, no move- 
 ment of the compressed lips attempted an answer, 
 but over the once vivid eye death had exercised its 
 greatest power, and the glassy stare of the dead 
 was too convincing even for the sanguine hope 
 of a father. Then from the fulness of that hope
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 181 
 
 came despair ; I cried out, ' / am liis father — save 
 him, save him !"* and I fainted. 
 
 " How long I remained I know not ; but when 
 I came to myself I found the room occupied by 
 the dead, his former companions, the commissary 
 of police, and one or two gendarmes. Some 
 doubt seemed to be entertained by those gentle- 
 men concerning his death, for one pistol was on 
 the bed loaded, and the other, which had just 
 been discharged, was found in a drawer so little 
 open as almost to have rendered it impossible to 
 have placed it there without opening the drawer. 
 The suspicions of the police fell upon his com- 
 panions; and had not the letters been found in 
 which he announced his intention of committing 
 the act, those gentlemen would have been placed 
 under a surveillance not very agreeable. I heed- 
 ed not their interrogatives, I listened not to their 
 surmises or suspicions ; I stood at the feet of 
 the last of my hopes ; I saw my son — my 
 only, my dear loved son, a corpse. I gazed in 
 horrid silence ; there stretched upon the floor 
 was the being in whom I had centred all my 
 affection ! I now saw not the dark parts of his
 
 182 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 character ; — I remembered only the days of his 
 youth, and memory portrayed all the kind en- 
 dearments of infancy ; I stood riveted to the 
 spot, imtil, overcome by my grief, my head grew 
 weaker, and feeling a sudden giddiness, I was 
 unable to support myself, and fell upon the 
 body. 
 
 " Spare me the recital of the last offices. He 
 lies in Pere Lachaise, the spot he disdained to 
 visit when alive ; and an epitaph, such as he him- 
 self had drawn for others, records his virtue and 
 his age. 
 
 "To the last he had been himself: towards 
 midnight he never once seemed to flag in conver- 
 sation, or to sadden at the approach of his death- 
 warning ; on the contrary, he seemed to rebuke 
 the laziness of time, and once or twice looked at 
 his watch and wondered that so few minutes had 
 flown. Just before the clock sounded, he filled 
 his glass, and standing up, gave with a clear voice, 
 a sparkling eye, and a steady hand, ' Those who 
 love us.' I heard the cheers. He then merely de- 
 sired his companions ' to wait, as he was about 
 to change his state,'' — those were his words, — ' in
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 183 
 
 order to play for a larger stake than he had as 
 yet attempted/ Not a minute elapsed between 
 the words and the act, and thus he fell. 
 
 " I have plucked out my heart, Robert, in 
 order to warn you from the dangers of the path 
 he followed. Here in a few words are comprised 
 all that idleness can lead to. On this score I 
 need hardly have troubled you, for I have watch- 
 ed your occupations and think them creditable. - 
 Remember that Fortune may yet smile upon you ; 
 and beware, when she has once bestowed her 
 gifts, how you blindly follow in her train. Be- 
 lieve me, men are happier in mediocrity; the 
 rich and the great are hated and envied, the poor 
 are scorned and despised. It is in the middling 
 classes that most happiness is found. Never there- 
 fore, should the gifts of this world be lavished 
 on you, seek to increase your store by risking 
 what you have to gain a little more ; nor hazard 
 that, the loss of which might cause the slightest 
 regret. And now, Robert, I end my miseries. 
 You see why I shun mankind ; you know why I 
 feel myself the poor unfriended wretch I am. 
 Riches are to me no inducement to live ; they
 
 184 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 cannot purchase me the revival of my son, and 
 without him I care not to exist. I am alone, 
 not one of my blood remains alive ; and I care 
 not to herd with those who can have no real in- 
 terest in my welfare." 
 
 " Stop, sir !" exclaimed Robert ; " before I 
 thank you for the good advice — before I com- 
 ment upon the mazes of misfortune into which 
 your son rushed and plunged you, do grant me 
 the favour to inform me of the fate of Louisa. 
 Although a fallen woman, she risked all for love ; 
 and perhaps there may still be time to warn her of 
 the misery of approaching age, and to assist her 
 in such a manner as to restore her to some of the 
 comforts she once enjoyed." 
 
 " Would you do so, Robert, if you met 
 her r 
 
 " Most certainly, sir," he replied. " Poor as 
 I am, I could still find a little to assist one 
 who has lost all by her betrayed confidence in 
 one of our sex." 
 
 " Generous fellow !" replied the old man: '^ first 
 hear this letter, which was written six hours before 
 my son's death. I hope his repentance was sin-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 185 
 
 cere ; because if it were not, he must have been 
 to his last moment a hypocrite and a liar. I will 
 not believe that any man upon the brink of eter- 
 nity is sufficiently daring to rush uncalled into 
 the presence of his Maker with a lie on his lips, 
 or a falsehood in his heart." He read the letter, 
 which was as follows : — 
 
 " Before I quit this world, I will do you the 
 justice you deserve, and confess the faults and 
 the crimes which have urged me to suicide. I once 
 loved you, tenderly, sincerely : at that time the 
 last drop of my blood would cheerfully have been 
 shed to save your name from the blight my 
 own conduct had entailed upon it. The love 
 of play overcame the love of all that was beau- 
 tiful — all that was affectionate; and when I re- 
 solved to leave you at Spa, I knew you were in- 
 nocent — I knew you would never submit to the em- 
 braces of a man you most thoroughly despised ; 
 but I felt the necessity of leaving you to ensure 
 my own safety. Hereafter my crimes and my 
 misdeeds may come before you; but I will not 
 embitter the moments more than my death will 
 do, by convincing you that your love was lavished
 
 186 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 on a forger and a swindler. Return, Louisa, 
 return to your family ; they still are ready to re- 
 ceive you with open arms, and parental fondness, 
 and by sincere repentance for the injury you have 
 done them, an earnest promise of future amend- 
 ment, and a resolution to live honestly, repair 
 in some measure the mischief you have done, and 
 which was occasioned by me. Even now, stand- 
 ing as I am upon the brink of the grave, with all 
 the terrors of death before me, the retrospect of 
 early acquaintance rushes over my memory, and, 
 dearest Louisa, I see you beaming in beauty and in 
 love. But, oh ! forgive me, for I then really loved 
 you : I gave a proof of that devotedness when I 
 left my wife, blighted my character, broke my 
 oath, renounced my God, for you. But now the 
 hours fly ; the last sand is oozing through the 
 glass, — my minutes are numbered; yet Heaven 
 is my witness that I ask not its forgiveness with 
 more sincerity than I solicit your pardon. I have 
 left a letter for my father, and have implored 
 him to provide for you. I urge you again to 
 return to those who still will cherish you ; and I 
 feel a calmness even at this dreadful time in the
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 187 
 
 assurance of your repentance and your future 
 happiness. Again, again forgive me — pardon me, 
 and offer one prayer for your once beloved Harry."'' 
 
 The old gentleman folded the letter and re- 
 placed it in his box. He wiped some tears from 
 his cheeks, which had rapidly coursed down the 
 furrows of his face, and saying " Thank God, it is 
 done," he became more composed. After a pause 
 of some minutes, during which time he fixed his 
 eyes upon the cheerful fire, he exclaimed, " Such 
 was Louisa; and now, thank Heaven, she is in 
 comfort and in affluence, — but bitter was the path 
 that led to it. 
 
 " When Harry left her at Spa," resumed the 
 old man, " Cavendish was at her side. She reco- 
 vered only to ascertain the confirmation of her 
 worst fears, and to be subjected to the com- 
 pany of the man she loathed and detested. 
 She did not hate him — for no one can hate who 
 never loved ; she despised him. When suffici- 
 ently recovered, she told him her determination 
 never to admit him into her society ; and he as 
 resolutely resolved to follow her to destruction: 
 he even dwelt upon the consummation of his plan
 
 188 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 with a hellish delight. The character of Harry 
 was now gone : no man of honour could associate 
 with one who had so shamefully violated the 
 laws even of the most abandoned. To have left 
 Louisa to struggle against the world, without 
 the slightest idea where to turn, or whither to go, 
 was the act of a coward ; yet, as I said before, had 
 he not previously determined to abandon her, I 
 could have forgiven him his suspicions of her 
 fidelity, since the evidence, offered as it was, and 
 the only half-read letter, would have staggered 
 a better man. Cast now upon the world, she 
 lost no time in leaving Spa. The carriage which 
 had been left, and the notes Harry had thrown, 
 offered convenience and the means of travelling 
 respectably. Her maid accompanied her, for the 
 idea of seeing Paris again consoled her for her 
 debased situation : moreover, it was believed that 
 she was in the pay of Cavendish. 
 
 " The next morning at daybreak witnessed the 
 departure of Louisa, who took the shortest road 
 through Namur to Paris. Overcome by fatigue 
 and anxiety of mind, this poor forlorn creature, 
 whose fortune was now contained in her purse.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 189 
 
 and who saw the necessity of husbanding it care- 
 fully, resolved to pass the night in the former 
 city. She had not long been housed before the 
 door opened, and Cavendish entered and again 
 importuned her. 
 
 *' ' Once for all, hear me and listen to me,' 
 said Louisa. ' There is no power on earth shall 
 ever make me yours. To you I am indebted 
 for my present misery ; I have still heart enough 
 and courage enough to despise you ; and I warn 
 you, that so surely as you molest me, so surely 
 will I inform the police of the annoyance. Quit 
 this room directly."* And thus saying, she gave no 
 time for an answer, but rang the bell. Caven- 
 dish instantly retired, muttering something about 
 ' the world's end, and satisfied revenge."* 
 
 " On Louisa's arrival in Paris, she boldly 
 drove to her father's former door. She was re- 
 lieved from all those feelings which must have 
 been uppermost in her mind, by the porter's in- 
 forming her that three months previously the fa- 
 mily had left Paris — he believed for England. 
 She did not remain one moment in suspense how 
 to act, but ordering horses, directed her steps
 
 190 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 towards Calais. She took the Amiens road, and 
 passed through Clermont not ten minutes after 
 the arrival of Harry. Having arrived at the coast, 
 she discharged her maid, who instantly crossed 
 the Channel. She then sold the carriage, and 
 making her luggage as convenient as possible, 
 she counted her fortune, which at that moment 
 amounted to forty pounds sterling, after having 
 paid her bill at the hotel. She now crossed the 
 water to Dover, and presented herself at the Cus- 
 tom-house. She was not troubled with many new 
 dresses, , and even the sharks of the Customs 
 could not lessen her fortune by placing an ad va- 
 lorem duty upon a bonnet. A porter carried her 
 baggage, and directed her to a small inn not far 
 from the ship. It was dark, the streets greasy 
 and wet, and the dim light of the lamps shone 
 not with sufficient lustre to show the face of a 
 female who walked close by her, and who stop- 
 ped at a little distance from a brilliant apothe- 
 cary's shop in order to scrutinise Louisa's fea- 
 tures as she passed the light. The stranger then 
 crossed the street, and continued to watch her 
 until she was safely lodged in the small inn.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 191 
 
 The agitation of Louisa's mind perhaps is a suf- 
 ficient reason why she did not more particularly 
 observe this stranger ; but towards nine o'^clock, 
 and previous to her going to bed, she chanced to 
 look from her window, and there opposite the house 
 were Cavendish and her former servant, whose 
 figure she could not fail to recognise. Her curiosity 
 made her watch them ; and in order to do so un- 
 observed, she extinguished the lights, and by 
 degrees managed to open a little of the win- 
 dow. It was evident to her that they wished 
 to ascertain if she was going on to London that 
 night ; for when ten o'clock struck and the mail 
 drove oiff, she heard Cavendish say, ' She is safe 
 until to-morrow, so good night,' and immediately 
 afterwards, they separated. It must be owned that 
 many females would not altogether dislike the 
 romantic attachment of a man who had travelled 
 this distance with apparently one only object in 
 view, and that object a woman : many a heart 
 has been softened by such attention, and those 
 who argue with Richard, that woman may some- 
 times be taken,
 
 192 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " ' In her heart's extremest hate, 
 
 With curses in her mouth, tears in her eye, 
 The bleeding witness of her hatred by,' 
 
 would not wonder if Louisa's resentment was a 
 little stifled by this marked attention. But she 
 knew him well, and yet could not understand 
 why, if his revenge had been satiated upon Harry, 
 he should now turn round upon her. It was all 
 in vain to think upon the subject, — that he had 
 followed her was evident, and that he would con- 
 tinue so to do was more than reasonable. 
 
 " The inside of the Phoenix had the honour of 
 conveying Louisa to town. Her maid was an out- 
 side passenger, but there was no appearance of 
 Cavendish. Louisa would have spoken to the 
 hard-hearted Mary Lancing, and would have en- 
 deavoured to have extracted the secret of her 
 company-keeping with Cavendish ; but the coach 
 was full inside, and no opportunity offered during 
 the journey to put her intentions into execution. 
 The coach drove to the Circus in Piccadilly; 
 and on inquiry, Louisa learnt that there was an 
 inn nearly opposite, to which she immediately 
 went, and having engaged a room at as cheap
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 193 
 
 a rate as possible, her boxes were removed and 
 she housed. 
 
 " Mary had watched her, and the next day- 
 Cavendish was there. He sent her letter after 
 letter, — he changed his manner from the haughty 
 to the solicitous — he oiFered her everything 
 but his hand, and it was quite in vain that 
 Louisa again and again refused the proffered at- 
 tention. Her object was to find her parents ; and 
 the only means to effect it was to send a boy 
 with a note in a disguised hand to her former 
 governess, who had left her family previously to 
 their going abroad, and who was now living in 
 Portland Place. The note appeared more like 
 one from a tradesman than a lady, and the an- 
 swer which fixed the fate of Louisa was, that 
 ' the Stanhopes had been for some time in Paris ; 
 but that the last accounts of them were from 
 Rome, where they intended to stay the winter.' 
 
 " It was not until this moment that Louisa 
 wavered. She had now no living soul to whom 
 she could apply; she did not know my ad- 
 dress ; and it was not likely that the father 
 would countenance the frailties of the son, when 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 the object of charity was the cause of all his 
 misfortunes. Cavendish still pressed his suit, and 
 day after day saw the slender resources of Louisa 
 gently ebbing away. She had advertised for the 
 place of a governess ; she had offered herself as 
 a lady Vm aid ; she had subjected herself to the 
 greatest annoyances ; she had been rudely re- 
 jected by those her inferiors in every respect 
 but fortune : she could give no references, she 
 could get no character ; and although blessed 
 with every intellectual resource, she found her- 
 self gradually getting towards her last shilling. 
 Hitherto she had paid punctually, and even now 
 did not owe a farthing; but day after day saw 
 the slender store reduced, and day after day she 
 was mortified by continued refusals. 
 
 " Cavendish had scarcely ever let her out of his 
 sight ; it was now that he implored an interview ; 
 and Louisa, actually softened by attention which 
 the most devoted lover in Christendom could not 
 have surpassed, admitted him. In this inter- 
 view Cavendish extracted from her the low state 
 of her finances, and seemed now to starve the 
 enemy he could not conquer. He regretted seri-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 195 
 
 ously her forlorn condition ; he saw no chance 
 of her success in finding a place, although Heaven 
 knew how sincere he was in wishing her to earn 
 an honest livelihood ; he warmly participated in 
 her distress, and would do all he could to alle- 
 viate it ; he was unfortunately a little pressed 
 for money himself, but he trusted that in a 
 day or two he should be able to offer her some 
 relief until she could be respectably provided 
 for. Louisa was blinded by this feeling allusion 
 to her situation ; and in the belief that Caven- 
 dish would call the next day, she continued at 
 her lodgings until her last farthing was gone. 
 She then procured supplies by the sale of her 
 clothes. She could not believe even in her 
 own destitution. She literally lived almost upon 
 air, for she contracted all her expenses into suffi- 
 cient only to keep herself alive ; but day after 
 day passed, dress after dress had been pledged, 
 until the once gay, beautiful, beloved Louisa — 
 the darling of her father's house, — the life, the 
 spirit of all society, was left with nothing but 
 the clothes upon her back, and without one 
 farthing in the whole world. 
 
 K 2
 
 196 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " Slie now began to despond. She had gone 
 through four day's of the week, and on the seventh 
 she had always punctually paid : her altered ap- 
 pearance would have excited suspicion, and now she 
 seldom ventured abroad, for her destitution was 
 evident in her dress. The fatal Monday came, and 
 with it came the bill. It is no true woman who 
 cannot find an excuse ; and she, with the air of 
 one who could discharge it, said, ' Leave it 
 there, and I will send the money.' But ser- 
 vants have quick eyes : the decrease of her ward- 
 robe had not been unnoticed ; the maid who 
 attended upon her knew that some of her dresses 
 had disappeared ; and the landlord, duly in- 
 formed of this, was resolved she should not 
 escape to his disadvantage. He soon made his 
 appearance, and on learning the truth was not 
 slow in upbraiding her. Finding that nothing 
 remained, he wisely thought that an empty house 
 was better than a bad tenant, and gave her notice 
 to quit directly. In vain she implored to be 
 allowed to remain,— r-in vain she declared the re- 
 spectability of her birth and her connexions, 
 and her certainty that a friend would soon re- 
 lieve her, — every fact was against her, excepting
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 197 
 
 her hitherto punctuality of payment. She was 
 told to depart, and in sorrowful steps she was 
 turned from the house with all her worldly goods 
 upon her back. 
 
 " It was about four o'clock, and winter had 
 long since begun. Cold, biting cold blew the 
 wind ; a small rain and thick fog contributed 
 to render her situation truly pitiable. She stood 
 near the door from which she had been spurn- 
 ed, insulted by the wanton as they passed, 
 and rebuked by some of low habits for being 
 in their walk. The hours crept on, and still 
 Louisa saw no prospect of a better fate than 
 a lock-up house. She had called, and again 
 had been denied admission to the inn. Her ten- 
 der frame, unaccustomed to exposure, would soon 
 feel the severity of the winter's cold ; she trembled 
 as she wound closer and closer around her the 
 folds of her last remaining shawl. Attracted by 
 the beauty of her figure, several people in pass- 
 ing turned to look at her, and she as invariably 
 turned away, until one more resolute than the 
 rest took her hand and whispered in her ear — 
 ' Mine at last !"* — It was Cavendish. 
 
 " ' Save me, save me, ^Ir. Cavendish, from
 
 198 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 the misery of this cruel night ! I am without 
 a farthing ; I am destitute of food, of clothing : 
 oh, hear my prayer, and turn not away from my 
 supplications ! ' 
 
 " ' It is good,' said Cavendish in a low tone, 
 ' to humble pride. My revenge now feels the 
 thrill of delight ! Louisa at my feet, a pauper, 
 without a home, without food, without a friend !' 
 
 " ' Oh, say not so, Mr. Cavendish ! say not 
 so, I implore you ! You know to what I was 
 born, and what I had ; assist me, and every 
 farthing shall be repaid if I work until I die.' 
 
 " ' The usual tone of all you women !' replied 
 this infernal demon. ' You run into debt, and 
 then you go upon the town to procure money. 
 I have no silver about me, neither have I any 
 halfpence; but you are young and pretty, and 
 cannot want long.' 
 
 " ' Cruel, cruel man, thus to insult one whom 
 you have ruined ! Even now I despise you more 
 than I did. Restore me a guinea of the money 
 you swindled from Harry, and relieve your con- 
 science of some of the load which will before long 
 press heavily upon you.'
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 199 
 
 " ' A very pretty way of asking charity, upon 
 my soul ! But I cannot remain here in the wet 
 and cold, liable to suspicion from some of my 
 friends who might pass in their carriages. Be- 
 sides, I have to dine with Lord Plausible, and 
 I promised to go to the theatre afterwards ; and, 
 as our little drunken divine at Coo used to say, 
 * we must make the most of the good things of 
 this life.' Ah, Louisa ! you have had your swing : 
 you remember our little drunken parson at Coo ?"* 
 
 '* ' I can scarcely believe my ears," replied 
 Louisa. ' You who sued for me almost on your 
 knees — you who have followed me to this step 
 of ruin, — you who promised to assist me but a 
 week ago, now to taunt me with the remem- 
 brance of my happier days, and to make me 
 feel my degradation by thus asking charity of 
 .you I' 
 
 " * Fortune's wheel, my pretty Louisa, is 
 always turning ; and this you know, that ani/ turn 
 it takes now must be for your welfare. I ima- 
 gine you cannot be much worse than you are, 
 and therefore I propose one alternative : I will 
 take you to a house where some of your sex re-
 
 200 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 side, and I dare say you will find a generous 
 friend in the lady who keeps the establishment. 
 Thus far I can assist you : but I again repeat, I 
 have no time to lose, and this chilling wind cuts 
 me in half.' 
 
 " ' Then think,' replied Louisa, ' what / suf- 
 fer, deprived of half my usual garments ! But 
 that cold is trifling to the misery I feel whilst 
 I look around me at this town of splendour and 
 of noise, and find myself unknown to all but 
 yourself, and actually starving in the streets.' 
 
 " * Why don't you get work then, and not 
 live in idleness ?' replied Cavendish. 
 
 '' ' Stop, stop, — for Heaven's, if not for 
 mercy's sake, stop ! I cannot bear it. I have 
 become a beggar to you, because I really thought 
 that you had some regard for me. I cannot 
 bear the insult, — I cannot longer remain to be 
 taunted, to be thus abused. Once more I appeal 
 to vour charity, to your own feelings ; and if I 
 fail, here will I die !' 
 
 " ' Be mine, Louisa ?' 
 
 " ' Never, never !' she replied. 
 
 " ' Come, I will relieve you.'
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 201 
 
 " Louisa immediately advanced, and was about 
 to place her arm in his, more from protection 
 than from any familiarity ; but Cavendish, who en- 
 joyed the misery of his victim, instantly with- 
 drew his, saying, ' Follow me ? Good God ! what 
 would my friends think if I were seen walking 
 arm-in-arm with you !' 
 
 " Vain, very vain would be the attempt to 
 describe the feelings of this poor girl. She was 
 a woman of more spirit than I ever remembered 
 to have seen, — for / have seen her: she would 
 have sacrificed her life any minute in the day 
 for the man she loved ; she could brave danger 
 few would face ; and had she not lost that gem 
 which adorns the female, and which hurls her 
 from society when it is lost, she might have been 
 justly the envy of her sex. Believe not this, 
 Robert, the tale of an old imbecile ; every word 
 is strictly, religiously true. She lives at this mo- 
 ment, rescued from her degradation and restored 
 to her family. 
 
 " * Whither are you leading me, Mr. Cavendish ? 
 I cannot go much farther ; for if you leave me I 
 shall lose my way in these alleys and courts." 
 
 K 5
 
 202 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " Cavendisli stopped, and then said, * I really 
 cannot provide for you now — I forgot I was to dine 
 early — you must walk about and keep yourself 
 warm by exercise ; here is sixpence, and if* every- 
 body gave you as much you would be richer than I 
 am. It 's coming on to rain quite hard ; I dare say 
 you wish you were in your snug warm apartments 
 in the Hotel de Flandre — you were comfortable 
 enough then. Now hear me, Louisa : you despised 
 me, now I shall see you by to-morrow as despicable 
 as woman can be — your darling Harry is now revel- 
 ling in luxury, you are starving — your seducer is in 
 warmth and comfort, you in coldness and despair. 
 Good night."* And he called a coach, into which 
 he jumped and left her. 
 
 '' Louisa was now alone. She walked in soli- 
 tude ; she saw about her those who abandoned 
 themselves — who yielded to their appetites ; 
 she heard the language from which decency 
 turns her ear, and modesty is startled and alarm- 
 ed : whichever way she walked, she met with in- 
 sult from the men, and abuse from her own sex ; 
 and needless, of course, it is for me to shadow her 
 feelings — her bitter feelings and remorse. She 
 had walked until eleven at night, and was then
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 203 
 
 near St. James's Palace. She turned to the right, 
 ascended St. James's Street, and then taking 
 Piccadilly, she walked on at a rapid pace, not 
 knowing where she was going, until she came to 
 Park Lane ; and as at that time the brilliancy of 
 gas-lights were unknown, that street assumed a 
 dark and melancholy appearance. 
 
 " I have reason to remember Park Lane ; for 
 had not my legs been good, I should have left 
 the contents of my pocket in a stranger's hand. 
 There is, not far from where the houses end 
 on the Park side, a small lane which termi- 
 nates in a mews, and on its left is a flight of 
 steps leading into Curzon Street. On these 
 steps at midnight was seated the once envied 
 Louisa. The weather had continued to grow 
 worse ; the wind was high, the rain more con- 
 stant, the cold more intense. In vain she now had 
 recourse to prayer — in vain she turned over and 
 over in her mind the thousand ways by "which the 
 millions in this world gain a livelihood ; at this 
 hour of the night she knew she could not appeal 
 to the affluent — she knew not where to apply, and 
 all the natural resources of her mind failed to
 
 204 WALS INGHAM, 
 
 offer relief. The drowsy watchman as he passed 
 her said, 
 
 " * Why, young woman, I think you had bet- 
 ter go home.' 
 
 " She looked up, and in a faint voice said, 
 ' I have no home.' 
 
 '' ' No home ? Why, where do you live .''' 
 
 " ' Here,', replied the poor creature. 
 
 " ' Lord bless me,' continued the watchman, 
 'how 'toxication is gaining ground !' and walked on. 
 
 " The guardian returned, having called out 
 ' Past twelve, and a cloudy night.' ' What, still 
 here !' said he, shaking her gently by the shoulder. 
 ' Why don't you go home ? I say, you mustn't 
 be laying about the steps in this way, — you must 
 go home, or I must take you to the watch-house.' 
 Sarying which, he placed his lantern near her face 
 and discovered her fair features. ' Why, what a 
 pity surely ! and such a pretty girl, too ! Why, 
 this is a bad station you have taken.' 
 
 " Whilst this was going forward, and the 
 night-guardian was becoming a little amorous, 
 three or four young men in high spirits were 
 heard advancing, and the watclinian left Louisa 
 and continued his rounds.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 205 
 
 " ' For the love of Heaven, have pity, gentle- 
 men, upon the most miserable of human creatures I"* 
 said Louisa, as two of the party approached ; but 
 as they gained the steps, one said : ' Well, good 
 night, Charles, I shall see you early to-morrow f 
 to Avhich the other replied, ' God bless you ! and 
 take my advice, leave off that private play, it will 
 ruin you, as it has done thousands.' A thrill, 
 an indescribable thrill ran through the veins of 
 Louisa ; she felt as if hope from being crushed 
 had sprung into new existence, and as the 
 stranger was about to descend the steps, she 
 said : ' He who can give such good advice 
 to a friend, will not deny his counsel to the 
 afflicted.'' 
 
 " Struck by the very unusual appeal, and from 
 one who seemed the lowest of the low, Charles 
 stopped. There was something in the tone of 
 voice which caught his attention : there was a 
 sort of sublimity in the mode of soliciting charity, 
 that he, of a sound and curious mind, could not 
 have passed. * In what way can I by my advice 
 serve you, my little girl ?' said Charles kindly. 
 , * Why, you look, as far as one can guess from that 
 lamp''s assistance, both young and in sad dis-
 
 206 
 
 tress ; and from the manner you have used in 
 addressing me, you must have seen better days.' 
 
 " These were the first kind words that Louisa 
 had heard since her actual misery ; and they came, 
 too, in a voice of benevolence, and a voice which 
 seemed familiar to her ear. She burst into tears, 
 and replied : * I am an outcast ; — I, who have 
 known splendour, have now no bed on which to 
 lay my exhausted frame — no home to shelter me 
 from this cruel night." 
 
 '* ' Who and what are you .?' said Charles. 
 '"A daughter of affliction — one who suffered 
 her love to conquer her discretion ; who has been 
 left by him who ruined her, and who is now an 
 outcast and a pauper.'' 
 
 " ' Ah, that appeal shall not be in vain to me !' 
 replied Charles ; ' for at this moment, my own, . 
 my dear Louisa may be a forlorn wretch ! — 
 Good God ! what ails you ? Let me lift you 
 again. Here, watchman, bring your lantern here.' 
 " ' Nay, nay, do not let him come. I fell 
 from weakness. I was afraid you were going to 
 harrow my very soul by some recital. But do 
 not and that name too — it cannot be !'
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 207 
 
 " ' Most heartily glad I am to see you so 
 moved ; it is a sign of a repentant spirit. I am 
 no clergyman, but, thank God ! I am a man. 
 If my own dear sister could but be reclaimed, 
 even by the vicissitudes of fortune which you 
 have undergone, I would receive her, and even 
 Harry should be forgiven.' 
 
 *' Louisa leaped upon her feet, and turning the 
 stranger towards the light, looked for a second 
 upon his face, and falling with her arms round 
 his neck, exclaimed, ' Charles Stanhope, forgive 
 — forgive your sister !"* 
 
 " I need tell you no more," continued the good 
 old man as he wiped the tears from his face. 
 
 " I knew that Charles Stanhope, who had 
 entered the army shortly after my son first be- 
 came acquainted with him in Paris, was in* 
 London; and on my return to England after 
 the burial of Harry, I hastened to discover his 
 abode. I found him with Louisa under his 
 roof. I did all that wealth and affluence could do 
 to restore her to her former position — I placed 
 her in independence ; and I have thus endea- 
 voured to make some trifling amends for the in-
 
 208 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 jury she sustained by my son''s conduct. She is 
 since married. She has lived to see Cavendish 
 altered in his dress and manner, almost a vagrant 
 on the parish ; nay, he has even solicited charity 
 from her — he has sued to her he nearly ruined ; 
 and I loved Louisa with a father's love when I 
 heard that she had discovered the almost un- 
 known retreat of that ruined scoundrel, and had 
 sent him some money, with merely these words 
 in the envelope, ' From Louisa Stanhope to Mr. 
 Cavendish.' 
 
 " Robert, in this world true is the Scripture — 
 ' Man is born unto misery as the sparks fly up- 
 wards.' It is our duty to live for others as 
 well as ourselves ; and let me implore you not 
 to spurn the abject creature of distress, or insult 
 the fallen by ridiculing their miseries ; and be 
 this engraven in your heart, that when it shall 
 please God to bless you with a wife and a family, 
 beware of the danger of idleness ; implant in 
 your children a due and proper sense of religion, — 
 teach them to be honourable ; make it their boast 
 to be gentlemen in the fullest acceptation of the 
 term : and remember, that early habits of rever-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 209 
 
 ence to God and obedience to their parents is 
 best inculcated by example ; for true is the say- 
 ing of Johnson, ' Religion, the rewards of which 
 are distant, and which are animated merely by 
 faith and hope, would glide by degrees from the 
 mind if they were not reinvlgorated and reim- 
 pressed by constant calls to worship, and by the 
 salutary influence of example,"* 
 
 " And now good night ! You have a spice of 
 the proper gentleman in your manner — you know 
 that it is not the coat which makes the man ; and 
 little did you dream when you opened your pew- 
 door to the poor, old, and apparently wretched, 
 pilgrim, that you admitted a man who could com- 
 mand every luxury in life, but who cannot enjoy 
 them. Here I could remain " 
 
 " Then do remain," interrupted Robert. "Here 
 you are welcome : whatever I have is at your 
 service." 
 
 " Many thanks to you, Robert ! — may God 
 bless you, and grant you happiness in this life ! 
 Good night again. Do not alarm yourself if you 
 hear me moving during the night : I am an old 
 curiosity, and must have my way. Good night '"
 
 210 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Robert felt considerably relieved when the 
 old gentleman left him and retired to rest. 
 The story of Harry and Louisa struck deep in 
 his heart ; and "when he turned in a restless, 
 feverish manner upon his pillow, he thought of 
 the rascality of the man who thus could use a 
 woman. O that he had treasured up the say- 
 ings of that man in his heart ! O that he had 
 never left him ! His resolutions as to future con- 
 duct were like the repentance of the sick repro- 
 bate : relieve him of his malady, and his evil 
 propensities return ; physic him back into health, 
 and you purge out his penitence. Sad picture of 
 human frailties, but not overdrawn. 
 
 Douglass awoke rather later the following 
 morning, and to his surprise learned that his old 
 friend had departed — not this life, but from his 
 house. The maid told him, that about six
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 211 
 
 o'clock she found the gentleman in the hall, 
 with the portmanteau packed, and brushing — if 
 it is not a Hibernicism — his hat with a silk 
 handkerchief. He desired her always to use her 
 master's the same way : " brushes are bad things," 
 he said, "and only invented by tailors to ruin 
 clothes before they were half worn out." He 
 put five shillings into the girl's hands, and said, 
 — " Now tell your master to remember me ; but 
 I desire you will not awake him, and tell him 
 that I have left his house. Thank you, my pretty 
 lass, I will carry my own portmanteau ; — so, here 
 I am outside, and God bless the owner ! for I 
 have had more real pleasure in this house, humble 
 as it is, than in the costly palace I call my own. 
 Do you, Mary, give my kindest remembrance to 
 your master, and tell him he shall hear from me 
 when he least expects it. Good-b'ye, my little 
 rosy-faced damsel ! Why, you look like the first 
 blush of dawn upon a spring morning ! If I had 
 your health and happiness, you might have my 
 age and purse — and I should be a gainer by the 
 exchange." 
 
 " Have you any idea, Mary, what may be his 
 name ?" asked Douglass.
 
 ^12 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " No, sir/' replied the little servant, who had 
 been much flattered by the old man's compli- 
 ments, and who exulted in her riches — her crown, 
 — " No, sir, I never could find out ; and although 
 I did use the privilege of our sex, curiosity, yet 
 all I could discover were the letters on a pocket- 
 handkerchief which he one morning forgot to put 
 in his pocket : they were worked in the same „ 
 coloured silk as the pocket-handkerchief itself, 
 and I made out a B and an H ; and on his 
 portmanteau, just over the lock, and under the 
 leather, was a small round plate with an H 
 upon it." 
 
 " Did you never see any letters of his, Mary ?" 
 continued Douglass ; " for you seem to have 
 made use of your eyes. Did you never see any 
 papers, — in short, anything that had his name 
 upon it ?" 
 
 " Never, sir, and I am sure I tried all I could ; 
 for he was so kind in his manner to me, that I 
 wanted very much to remember his name." 
 
 " Just run over to the inn, and find out if 
 he went by the Cheltenham coach," said Dou- 
 glass ; " or if he went in a post-chaise ; — in short,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 213 
 
 find out all you can about him. But stop, — put 
 the kettle on the hob first, and get breakfast." 
 
 Robert looked at the vacant place at his table 
 as a kind husband does when his wife has de- 
 serted him : he seemed to have lost a companion 
 that he had known for years. For the last two 
 days he had assumed a kind of parental sway, 
 and had managed the fire and the coal-skuttle 
 as if they were his own property : he certainly 
 hardly fed the fire, and nearly starved his host 
 with cold. 
 
 Mary''s return produced no desirable commu- 
 nication. " He had gone by one of the early 
 coaches, not to Cheltenham, but to London. They 
 knew nothing about him, and wanted if possible 
 to know less. They wondered how a gentleman 
 who had always behaved himself as such could 
 house and feed such a miserable curmudgeon, 
 and allow such a skinflint to peck and perch in his 
 roost." 
 
 " Very well," thought Douglass to himself, " the 
 world may scoff and sneer, the old maids may 
 turn up their eyes and their noses, but I shall 
 ever be proud of having given that old man the
 
 2H WALSINGHAM, 
 
 run of my house : he has at any rate, to use 
 the language of the author he always quoted, 
 ' given an ardour to virtue, and confidence to 
 truth.' His story is worth all the wine he 
 drank ; and as for any other expense, he saved 
 it all in the coals and the candles. If I follow 
 his advice, I shall be the better man ; and for 
 once I have found out it is not exactly true, 
 * that advice when asked is seldom well re- 
 ceived ; and wdien it is not asked, it is decidedly 
 impertinent." " 
 
 Thus Robert continued moralizing and tack- 
 ing together " wise saws and modern instances,"" 
 until he remembered that four days had passed, 
 and that he had never visited Margaret Anson, 
 the prettiest girl in the village, and one, to say 
 the truth, with whom he fancied himself very 
 much in love. Until the old gentleman called, 
 he had never missed a day without blockading 
 the high street, or occasionally stopping close 
 to the little garden-gate which led to the neat 
 cottage in which was domiciled his only hope. 
 
 The Ansons were of good birth, and could 
 trace back, by the means of old books, and now
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 215 
 
 and then a straggling warrior, a clear descent, — 
 clear at least to tliem, — from the Conqueror ; and 
 throughout the many ramifications of that old 
 tree of genealogy in all its shoots and branches, 
 it may be questioned if it ever shot out a leaf 
 so beautifully formed, so exquisitely fashioned, 
 as Margaret. She was tall, or rather above the 
 middle stature of women ; she had large dark 
 blue eyes, with dark brown hair — nay, almost 
 a black, which gave her countenance a light 
 of fire when she blazed up, as she sometimes 
 did, that could not fail to produce a most vivid 
 sensation. But, alas ! how very often do we see 
 in human life the picture of Margaret ! How 
 often do we see the gayest dressed man — the dandy 
 covered with chains and rings, bedizened with 
 worked waistcoats and satin, — the one whose 
 pocket and whose brain is the most shallow ! 
 Many may have seen, when shawl after shawl 
 in all their splendour have been unrolled, — when 
 silk wrapper after silk wrapper has been un- 
 wound, the dead, cold, disgusting corpse of a Tar- 
 tar; and may know that, in spite of the gold 
 which surrounds its surface, how bitter is the 
 pill concealed beneath ?
 
 216 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 '' Such was Margaret, — a splendid casket con- 
 taining a coal. She had the fairest forna and 
 loveliest face that man ever dared to dote upon ; 
 but she "Was idle, selfish, proud, morose. Mar- 
 garet knew no pleasure but in society ; to be 
 condem.ned to her own resources was a curse 
 she avoided by sleep. She was one of those 
 mealy women, who, in spite of clear skins and 
 vivid eyes, are strangers to the genial warmth of 
 love, and never feel its influence saving when 
 it gratifies their vanity. 
 
 " Robert did not know her then, but he has 
 since known her better : bitterly has he repented 
 the re-continuation of his visits after the departure 
 of the old man. He loved, — at least he thought 
 so : he could never bring himself to any useful 
 occupation ; and he dissembled when he appeared 
 to read and study in the society of the old 
 gentleman ; — wherever he fixed his eyes, there 
 were Margaret's; and although he was blind as 
 regarded her beauty, yet he was not blind to 
 the situation in which he stood : he felt himself 
 tolerated rather than encouraged ; when no other 
 man could be found to dawdle out the hours,
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. ^17 
 
 Douglass was considered as a convenient friend, 
 ■whose poverty would starve love, and who would 
 never venture to offer a hand which held not a 
 heavy purse ; — in short, he was considered much 
 in the light that the Author of " The Life of a 
 Sailor'** has ventured to pourtray midshipmen in 
 ] 809, — "Kind of dogs to fetch and carry/' 
 He walked in and out of the house like a tame 
 rabbit, and was believed as timid and as inno- 
 cent as Joseph ; but his timidity arose from 
 love, — he was miserable when absent from her. 
 He did not dare to venture an offer, because 
 he saw that whenever a popinjay with long 
 spurs and dyed moustache made his appearance, 
 he was decoyed by the old mother, whilst Mar- 
 garefs eyes were turned as a breaching battery 
 against the outworks of the soldier''s heart. Ro- 
 bert has since believed that these men saw 
 through the frail covering of Margaret ; for al- 
 though many flirted, not one offered. They 
 say hunger can tame a lion, and also, that if 
 you tread on a worm it will turn. Oh, how 
 long— how many months did Robert hunger 
 after Margaret ! He watched her steps with rap- 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 ture ; day after day he visited the cottage — he 
 watched for some favourable symptom, he looked 
 for some responding glances, he listened for some 
 unexpected sigh. He might have watched, and 
 looked, and listened until Doomsday, — Margaret''s 
 heart was occupied solely by itself; and she re- 
 garded him more as a useful appendage than 
 dreamt of him as a lover. Douglass had often 
 met with rebukes and rebuffs in the unguarded 
 hints of one or two of the Ansons ; but Mar- 
 garet had been either too kind or too sleepy 
 to give vent to her feelings. Upon the subject 
 of the old man, he had however some few diffi- 
 culties to overcome. Some of his very best friends 
 took the trouble to circulate that the account 
 Robert gave of his own family was all false ; that 
 the strange man who had excited such atten- 
 tion in the village was his father, who had just 
 met with some reverses in his business, being 
 by trade a kind of omnium gatherum trader, and 
 had visited his son in the hopes of getting some 
 little assistance. The charge was supported more 
 upon circumstantial than positive evidence ; but 
 your old tattlers and retailers of scandal or in-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 219 
 
 suits prefer the former to the latter; — it gives 
 such scope to the imagination, it supplies a better 
 field for the war of words, and it gives a value to 
 a whisper, which otherwise might have " died un- 
 heard away." 
 
 " If it had been a respectable friend," quoth 
 one, " he would have trotted him to the cottage, 
 and saved himself and his red-armed servant from 
 the expense and trouble of a dinner." 
 
 " Ay," replied a second ; " and he would 
 not have moped all day in his narrow cell like 
 a monk at his confession, had he not been 
 ashamed of his father, and willing to avoid in- 
 terrogation." 
 
 So that whilst Douglass was cherishing an 
 old friend of his father's — whilst he was making 
 an old and infirm man enjoy some of the bless- 
 ings of this life, he was incurring all the malice, 
 all the venom of a female community. 
 
 The attorney of the village, about as great a 
 rogue as that honourable society can boast, 
 only shook his head and observed, " Poor fellow ! 
 it is not his fault if his father is a hawker of 
 rags about town ; no man is responsible for the 
 
 l2
 
 220 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 bii'th of his sire/^ The parson, who was an ho- 
 nest, excellent person, asked what it could sig- 
 nify to others if Mr. Douglass chose to feed 
 the decrepit, or extend his charity to the in- 
 firm. But amongst the women he lost consider- 
 able ground, — firstly, for having done a good 
 action in admitting the stranger to his pew, which 
 was called vanity ; and secondly, for having forced 
 himself into their society under false colours. 
 
 Robert could not but observe this : the alter- 
 ation in the nods of the ladies was evident ; he 
 was never asked to join the attorney and the 
 doctor at whist, nor was he ever favoured after 
 church with the friendly bow of acquaintance ; 
 the fact is, he was nearly sent to Coventry, and 
 by being still admitted to the Ansons, nearly 
 bred a division in that once peaceful neighbour- 
 hood. 
 
 One day in spring, for the winter had pass- 
 ed and he had been neglected, when he was 
 walking by the side of Margaret, and making 
 all manner of pretty speeches, she suddenly turn- 
 ed round, and looking him full in the face, said — 
 " Pray Robert,^' (she always called him Robert,)
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 221 
 
 " who was that old man who visited you for four 
 days in November last ?*" 
 
 '* Why really, Margaret," he answered, (ob- 
 serve the familiarity,) " I do not know." 
 
 " Nonsense !" retorted the girl : " you ought 
 to be ashamed to deny one whom you must 
 know !" 
 
 " That may all be very just as a remark," he 
 interrupted ; " but it is a fact that I can put 
 my hand upon my heart and solemnly swear 
 that I do not know his name, his calling, or his 
 abode." 
 
 " Well, Robert, I am sorry to hear you say 
 so, as it must breed a little distrust between 
 us : I cannot pay you so bad a compliment as 
 to - believe you would admit a stranger whom you 
 never saw in your life into your house, or that 
 you are quite such a fool as to think we believe 
 it.'' 
 
 " I am sure, Margaret," he replied, not a little 
 hurt by the remark, " that I have never since 
 I had the pleasure of knowing you — and a great 
 and real pleasure it has been — told you one word 
 of untruth ; and I repeat again, that I never saw
 
 222 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 that man before or since his visit here ; that I 
 do not know his name ; and that my servant, as 
 inquisitive as most of your sex, failed also to 
 arrive at this desirable knowledge ; — nay, if you 
 distrust me, perhaps you will credit her." 
 
 " Upon your honour and word," said Mar- 
 garet, looking right through him with those beau- 
 tiful eyes of hers, "is not that dirty old man 
 your father ?" 
 
 Robert looked at her in cool disgust before 
 he answered the question. " Margaret," he said, 
 for his blood was up, — " Margaret, you be- 
 lieve me as false as yourself !" She started with 
 astonishment. *' Nay, hear me out," he con- 
 tinued. " You hear me pledge the honour and 
 word of a gentleman that I do not know this 
 person ; and you then, having evidently stamped 
 me as a liar in your own mind, ask me if he is 
 not my father. Could I by any subterfuge, by 
 any compromise of conscience, if that man were 
 my father, say that I did not know either his 
 name, his calling, or his abode ?" 
 
 " Every one in the village," continued Mar- 
 garet, " thinks him your father ; and they say
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 223 
 
 that you are not the person you represent your- 
 self to be. It is the generally circulated report 
 that has made me ask the question ; and although 
 you pledge your word and your honour, which 
 I am bound to believe, yet I say it again, that 
 I never thought you such a noodle before."" 
 
 " And can you," he replied, " listen to all the 
 rubbish which idle women think proper to talk ? 
 Rely upon this, Margaret,"' he said as he took 
 her hand, "that I never have told you a false- 
 hood, and that all I say or do when by your 
 •side is guided by sincerity and truth.""* Margaret 
 looked up, and Robert felt his heart bumping 
 about like a parched pea upon a drumhead. 
 
 It has been remarked before now, that the 
 greater the excitement, the greater is the reac- 
 tion ; and those are trivial observers of life who 
 fail in seeing that a woman's heart becomes the 
 softest immediately after she has steeled it in ob- 
 duracy. Hence women who resolve not to accept 
 a man wind themselves up to the refusal, and 
 the next second burst into tears. This is a 
 natural reaction, and not hypocrisy, as has been 
 averred.
 
 M4f WALSINGHAM, 
 
 There was a kind of melting softness in Mar- 
 garet's eyes : she looked at Douglass as much as 
 to compassionate him for the virulence of the 
 slander he had undergone, and he felt that now 
 was the time to make the most rapid advances. 
 He had for the last six months taken every oppor- 
 tunity of admiring her beauty ; he had painted 
 her as the perfection of a woman, although he was 
 not blind to her occasional coolness. This, lover- 
 like, he twisted into a trial of his affection, and 
 never once thought it could arise from a chilli- 
 ness of heart or an utter want of passion. The 
 enemy — that is, her natural apathy — was now oif 
 his guard ; she seemed warmed, perhaps by his re- 
 futation of the report, and being conscious — for 
 she had a little of that common commodity 
 — that she had insulted him, she felt inclined 
 to soften the asperities and to acknowledge the 
 reaction. "A faint heart," he said to himself, 
 " never won a fair lady : now is the time ; this 
 is the tide which taken in the flood leads on to 
 glory ; here 's a chance, here 's an opening, and 
 
 by I '11 try !'' At this moment he quite 
 
 forgot how unlikely it was that a girl of eigh-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 225 
 
 teen, with a beauty rarely equalled and never 
 surpassed, would relinquish all worldly ambition 
 and sink down as the quiet wife of Robert Dou- 
 glass, he being then in possession of one hundred 
 and fifty pounds a year. Love is blind 
 
 He held Margaret's hand, and returned the 
 gaze of those beautiful blue eyes ; — he thought he 
 never saw her look so pretty as in that plain 
 straw bonnet with the pink riband : he held her 
 hand, and throwing all his soul into his eyes, 
 began to break ground. " Margaret," — he said, 
 and there he came to a full halt. She looked at 
 him as much as to say, " Go on." Robert gently 
 squeezed her hand — he felt a kind of convulsive 
 return. " Margaret," — he began again. — 
 
 " Robert," — she said. 
 
 " Margaret, can you listen to me ?" 
 
 " To be sure I can : Robert, do you think I 
 am deaf?" 
 
 Robert felt as if the old enemy was coming 
 back to her protection. 
 
 " Margaret," (the third time is always the 
 strongest,) he began again, " I told you before 
 that I never mentioned one word to you which 
 
 l5
 
 226 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 was not strictly true ; and now I tell you another 
 truth I have longed many times to divulge. Look 
 at this dear little hand in mine, Margaret." She 
 looked upon it as if it had been a stone. " Do 
 you see how well formed mine is to hold and to 
 protect it ?" 
 
 " Yes," said she. 
 
 Robert startled and continued : " Then accept 
 mine as the protector of yours. Oh, make me 
 really happy ! Whatever I have is yours. Say, say 
 you love me, — say you accept me as your hus- 
 band." She looked at him for some time : they 
 say, if a woman considers, she is lost. Robert 
 trembled with anxiety ; he felt his limbs totter 
 beneath their weight ; he watched every glance — 
 the murder was out, he had spoken, and now his 
 doom was about to be completed. He was afraid 
 the poor girl would have fainted ; he was ready to 
 catch the falling angel in his arms ; he was in the 
 horror of suspense, when she turned short round 
 upon her heel, burst out a-laughing, and ran 
 home, leaving Robert like a statue fixed to the 
 ground, and looking at the flying figure of the 
 n)Tnph. 
 
 It would not be a very pleasant amusement to
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 227 
 
 rummage recollection for the bitter feeling of dis- 
 appointment, wounded pride, or crushed hope, which 
 overcame him ; but such was his very unusual 
 manner at dinner, that even Mary was struck 
 into such a heap, that she thought him, what he 
 certainly was for the moment, mad. A note, how- 
 ever, from the cottage, begging him to spend the 
 evening there, reanimated him ; although he might 
 have seen that the invitation placed his tamed- 
 rabbit visits rather out of the question for the 
 future. 
 
 Mrs. Anson was a kind woman, and knew how 
 to feel for others, for she had suffered herself 
 when her husband died ; — she knew by experience 
 how hard it is to part with one we love ; and 
 she could likewise imagine that a man might 
 feel a rebuke of love, and feel it deeply. Mar- 
 garet had told the whole story just as unconcern- 
 ed as if Robert had offered her an unripe pear 
 and she had refused it ; she had entered into all 
 the particulars without the slightest emotion, and 
 not knowing the power of feeling, she could not 
 credit that she had inflicted any pain upon an- 
 other. Robert accepted this invitation, for hope
 
 2^8 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 seemed concealed in Pandora's box ; he thought 
 all the evil was out, and that her mother might 
 have altered the determination of the daughter. 
 Margaret met him at the door with her usual 
 welcome : she asked him if he remained long in 
 the fie]d after she left him ; and if he had not been 
 blinded by her beauty, he might have known her 
 for the heartless, worthless creature he afterwards 
 found her. Mrs. Anson took him aside, and in 
 the kindest manner offered a palliative for her 
 daughter's behaviour : she said, that for herself 
 and her daughter she could answer, by saying 
 that Margaret had never observed any particular 
 alteration on Robert's part ; and that the frequent 
 intimacy for such a length of time without any 
 declaration, was a sufficient proof to them that he 
 had no serious intentions : she then, as kindly as 
 woman can speak about insuperable objections, 
 mentioned his fortune, and her knowledge that he 
 had no expectation for the future ; and, after a 
 vast number of compliments to himself, declar- 
 ed that Margaret still highly valued his friend- 
 ship, although she hoped he would never mention 
 the subject of love any more. Once or twice a
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. ^29 
 
 lurking hint about the old gentleman convinced Ro- 
 bert that she had been infected by the surrounding 
 scandal, and that although she spoke in honeyed 
 accents, yet that she believed him to be very lit- 
 tle better than a common impostor. 
 
 " My dear Robert," she said, as she laid her 
 hand upon his shoulder in the most friendly man- 
 ner possible, " you must know that a girl of 
 Margaret^G beauty naturally looks a little above 
 the humdrum life of a village like this. It is 
 true we see very little company ; but next year I 
 intend to take my children to town : — it is a duty 
 I owe her, who certainly is very far above the 
 common herd of woman-kind, to give her a chance 
 of success in life ; and I know I am speaking 
 to a reasonable person, who, although a little 
 smitten by charms irresistible, yet has con- 
 trol enough over himself to be absent for four 
 days, when he was merely engaged by an elderly 
 gentleman,'''* (she laid a particular emphasis on that 
 word,) " to whom he was a perfect stranger, and, I 
 am given to understand, remains so now."" 
 
 " I understand you perfectly, Mrs. Anson," 
 replied Robert, " I assure you ; and kind as has
 
 230 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 been your manner in thus giving me to under- 
 stand that I have no prospect of success here- 
 after, yet I cannot help lamenting that you cling 
 to some sinister idea relative to that old man, who 
 was a friend of my father'*s, and to whom I ex- 
 tended the little civility I had to offer." 
 
 " Oh, then you did know him ?" she hastily 
 replied. 
 
 " No, indeed I did not," said Robert ; *' and 
 if at this moment I were to be hung at the gal- 
 lows, and the naming of that man''s name would 
 save me, I should be hung to a certainty." She 
 turned away with an incredulous sneer, and Ro- 
 bert ^aw his sentence of exclusion written legibly 
 enough on the countenance of his dear friend 
 Mrs. Anson. 
 
 It happened about four months afterwards, 
 that one or two young men dropped in to Mrs. 
 Anson's, and Robert was one of the party. After 
 that once national, and now doubly national be- 
 verage, since it is picked from our own hedges — 
 tea, a dance was proposed, and Robert stood up 
 opposite to Margaret in a state of utter despon- 
 dency. He thought it was for the last time that
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 231 
 
 he should touch her hand ; and although he did 
 not feel any particular angry feeling against 
 her or her mother, yet he felt mortified that 
 he was so long discredited : it was evident that 
 the old ragman was believed to be his sire, 
 and that from his situation in life he was 
 ashamed of his parent. In the course of a 
 man''s life, he must face many miseries, and be 
 occasionally supremely unfortunate ; but it is a 
 strange fact, that no calamity ever overtakes us 
 without our being forewarned that something 
 is about to occur. A man still exists who once 
 stumbled into law, and although he felt his case 
 was sure, if truth and justice could avail, yet 
 before he went into court he remarked to the 
 attorney, "It is no use, I feel I am to lose it ;" 
 and he did. A month previously to this, and the 
 same trial, when the morning came on which that 
 case was to be heard, he said, " I will lay thou- 
 sands that I am not beat this day :" the trial 
 was postponed, and both warnings proved correct. 
 Let not the hasty reader brand this as a boyish 
 superstition ; our greatest heroes have been fore- 
 warned of their fate, and have been shot the
 
 232 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 same evening. Nelson had a tinge of this at 
 Trafalgar, and Sir Peter Parker openly expressed 
 it the night of his death. 
 
 They had danced one quadrille, and Robert 
 had lugged his legs after him something like a 
 sweep does his broom, when he felt a lightness 
 of heart for which he could not account. Al- 
 though in the titters of the girls and the looks 
 of the men he could see that he was the object 
 of distrust and remark, yet suddenly he felt an 
 elasticity of mind which a Londoner feels when 
 hastily removed to Paris. He laughed and 
 flirted, and, in spite of all untoward events, 
 he never felt happier in his life. About 
 eleven o'*clock the dance was done, the tray 
 brought, and silence succeeded the noise of youth 
 and merriment. It was during that pause, that 
 the servant entered, and said that Mr. Douglass 
 was wanted immediately at home, — that a gentle- 
 man had arrived from London in great haste, and 
 begged that Mr. Douglass would see him directly. 
 
 To the inquiries, Robert only learned that 
 the stranger was a middle-aged man, that he 
 came down post, and had not arrived more than
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. ^SS 
 
 five minutes. In a country village, a post-chaise 
 is an object of scrutiny by day ; but when it 
 comes in the shape of a despatch by night, every 
 tongue is sure to be employed in giving forth 
 opinions upon the object. The carriage and 
 horses had gone to the Elephant and Dormouse, 
 and curiosity was strongly excited. Robert ad- 
 vanced to shake hands for the last time, as he 
 thought, with Mrs. Anson. He remarked a con- 
 siderable change in her manner; she seemed 
 softened down a little, and hoped Robert would 
 call to-morrow. Even Margaret was kind, and in 
 the expression that she hoped nothing serious had 
 occurred, betrayed a momentary feeling for his 
 interest, and, he thought, welfare in life.
 
 2S4f WALSINGHAM, 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Robert''s house was not more than five hun- 
 dred yards from the cottage, and he took about 
 two hops, skips, and jumps to arrive at the door. 
 Here he found a short pragmatical-looking man 
 in full possession of the fire, rubbing his hands 
 and looking quite at home. On Robert's entrance 
 he rose, and having asked him if he was Mr. 
 Robert Douglass, the son of John Douglass 
 deceased, he gave him a very smiling look, and 
 told him that he had come post to see him, 
 having business of great importance to transact. 
 
 " In the first place, sir,"*"* he said to Robert, 
 " it is my duty to ask you some few questions, 
 which I trust you will do me the favour to 
 answer."" Douglass nodded assent, and he pro- 
 ceeded. " Pray, sir, were you ever acquainted 
 with one Mr. Benjamin Houghton ?"
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 235 
 
 " Never, sir," replied Douglass ; '* I have ne- 
 ver had the honour of knowing any such person, I 
 assure you." And Robert began to look round 
 his room to see that none of his furniture had 
 walked. 
 
 " I think, sir," replied the little quiz, '' you 
 must be labouring under some mistake, for I 
 am sure / have made none. Is not this your 
 name, the name and number of your street, 
 the village in which you reside, the name of 
 your father and your family ?^'' 
 
 Douglass looked at the memorandum, which 
 was made in a pocket-book, and then regarding 
 his visitor full in the face, (he could have pocketed 
 him had it been requisite,) he answered, *' Yes, 
 sir, most certainly, this can be meant for no other 
 than myself." 
 
 " If, sir," continued the stranger, " you have 
 any letter directed to you which may have come 
 by the post, will you be kind enough 'to show 
 me the direction ?'''' 
 
 ''To be sure I will," replied Robert, open- 
 ing his desk and handing out one, which the 
 little gentleman ran his eye over and returned
 
 236 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 to him, saying, " Are you quite sure, sir, you 
 do not know any person of the name of Ben- 
 jamin Houghton ?" 
 
 '' I am just as certain, sir, as that I have the 
 honour of seeing you before me," replied Dou- 
 glass. " To the best of my knowledge and 
 belief, I only have had one person besides your- 
 self inside these doors with whose name I was 
 not acquainted ; and he was an old gentleman to 
 whom I offered some civility." 
 
 '' Is it long, sir, since he left you ?" continued 
 the stranger. 
 
 " It may be now about three or four months," 
 was replied. 
 
 " Will you describe him, if you please ? for 
 I fancy this is the same gentleman," resumed 
 the stranger. 
 
 Robert did so in no very good humour ; for 
 he by no means relished this kind of examina- 
 tion, and certainly was not in the vein to be 
 over and above civil to this stranger, for he put 
 the questions to him as a matter of right, which 
 Robert did not comprehend. 
 
 " I am satisfied," replied the stranger, " that
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 237 
 
 we have made no mistake. And now, sir, I shall, 
 after apologising for what may seem a liberty, con- 
 vey to you a piece of intelligence which I hope may 
 convince you that my questions were absolutely 
 necessary. I am, sir, the solicitor of the late 
 Mr. Benjamin Houghton ; and I have no doubt, 
 from his general eccentric manner, that he for 
 some purpose, — perhaps the unfortunate death of 
 his son, who committed suicide in Paris, — conceal- 
 ed his name. He has indeed for some few years 
 
 been a kind of wandering hermit " 
 
 " He used to call himself a pilgrim,"" Robert 
 interrupted. 
 
 " You are right, sir, and he seldom remained 
 long in one place."'^ Here the solicitor paused. 
 
 '' He has been the cause of great anxiety to 
 me," replied Robert ; " for, from the negligence 
 of his dress, his peculiarity as to carrying his 
 own portmanteau, and the cautious manner, when 
 he related the whole circumstance of his son's 
 connexion with Miss Louisa Stanhope, of con- 
 cealing his name, I have been unable to con- 
 tradict the malicious scandal which idle women 
 have circulated very much to my injury; they
 
 ^38 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 have, in the plenitude of their goodness, called 
 him a hawking pedlar, and dubbed the good 
 old soul as my father. He appeared to me to 
 be a gentleman by birth and manner, although 
 sadly soured by the world." 
 
 " I wish he had been my father," replied 
 the solicitor ; '' and I have no doubt that you 
 will have no cause to regret your civility and 
 your attention to him. But to the point : he is 
 dead " 
 
 " I am truly sorry to hear it," replied Robert ; 
 " for I grew much attached to him, and the con- 
 tentment he seemed to enjoy in my society made 
 me anxious to see him again." 
 
 " Of course, sir, you are already prepared to 
 hear that he has left you some money." 
 
 '' Some trifling mark of his esteem, I sup- 
 pose," said Douglass, " and for wdiich I confess 
 myself thankful, however little it may be. You 
 see here, sir, all my worldly goods ; and you will 
 do me the favour of remaining here to-night, 
 so I shall take the liberty of ordering my spare 
 bed to be ready." He then rang the bell ; and 
 Mary, who had been listening at the door, and
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 239 
 
 caught the sound of money left — dead old gen- 
 tleman, &c. appeared instantly to attend the sum- 
 mons. 
 
 '' Of this money," Robert said, " we can 
 talk to-morrow, for I suppose you are rather 
 tired." 
 
 '' You certainly, Mr. Douglass, take things 
 as coolly as any philosopher. You are aware, I 
 suppose, that Mr. Houghton died very rich in- 
 deed r 
 
 "I am in remembrance of his having spoken 
 once or twice of his fortune," replied Douglass, 
 " and that he would willingly give every far- 
 thing to restore his son to life ; but as to the 
 amount, I can form no estimate whatever, — from 
 his dress he was no Croesus." 
 
 " It was his dress and abstemious manner of 
 life which made him the rich man he was," con- 
 tinued the solicitor : ^' his property has wonder- 
 fully increased during its nursing." 
 
 '' I hope he has provided for Louisa," re- 
 marked Robert ; " for although I have never 
 seen her, yet from his account she must have 
 suffered much from the behaviour of his son.
 
 240 \YALSINGHAM, 
 
 He often mentioned his having done all that for- 
 tune could do to restore her to her proper posi- 
 tion." 
 
 "He has not neglected her ; for after some 
 few trifling legacies, one of which is to myself," 
 said the stranger, ^' he has left his fortune 
 between Louisa and yourself.'^ 
 
 " Sir?" said Robert. 
 
 " You will find yourself by these presents," 
 said the little man, smiling, " in possession of 
 =£^70,000." 
 
 " Damnation !" said Robert ; and he jumped 
 up and kissed the attorney. He thought he was 
 mad, and got up in the corner; but Robert 
 caught him by the coat : " Sit down," said he, — 
 " out with it all ;" and then looking him full 
 in the face, said, " Are you quite certain you 
 are not humbugging me ?" 
 
 " Humbugging you, sir !" replied the soli- 
 citor, returning his look. " I tell you, sir, I 
 am his solicitor, his executor, his oldest friend, 
 and now come down to do the last act honour- 
 ably, — to put you into quiet possession, to take 
 you to town to-morrow, and "
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 241 
 
 " To give me your advice, my friend," in- 
 terrupted Robert, — '* to check my first lavish 
 expenditure; to teach me not to rush into ex- 
 tremes, — in short, to h^ my solicitor, my friend.'''' 
 
 " Fm sure I shall be most happy; and as I 
 have no reason to disguise my name — for I defy 
 the devil himself, although I am an attorney, — 
 I introduce myself to you as Mr. Verity, of 
 the firm of Verity, Honor, and Co., Argyle 
 Street." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Verity, Til have some supper," 
 said Robert ; " and you and I will break through 
 all steady habits and crack a bottle. Seventy 
 thousand pounds and Margaret Anson !" 
 
 '* No, sir ; Louisa Stanhope." 
 
 " Yes, I forgot. — Mary, have you any meat 
 in the house ?" said Robert, almost pulling the 
 bell down. 
 
 " No," replied the servant ; " I ate the last 
 of the cold steak you left at dinner." 
 
 " Cold steak !" said Robert, laughing : "go 
 and buy me the whole of Cleaver^s shop, and 
 dress it for supper." 
 
 " Nay, nay," interrupted Verity ; " here I 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 begin my advice and open my account. Mary, 
 run to the inn and desire them to send a plate of 
 ham and a cold fowl."" 
 
 " Money, sir, if you please,"" said Mary, 
 curtseying and looking at Robert. 
 
 " I have not enough about me to jingle upon 
 a tombstone," replied Douglass : " tell them I '11 
 pay them to-morrow." 
 
 " No, no," said Verity : "I thought you 
 might want some supplies, so I brought you 
 down fifty pounds. Here, Mary, my child, take 
 this sovereign and pay for it : and be back as 
 soon as possible, for it grows late, and I must 
 return to town early to-morrow." 
 
 " Order four horses to be here with this gentle- 
 man's carriage at ten precisely," said Robert. 
 '' I vow I will go out of this scandalous parish 
 with a flourish. Now, Mr. Verity, it is no use 
 your holding up your hands like a rope-dancer 
 trying to keep his balance ; for if you knew how 
 I have been insulted, abused, reviled, rejected, 
 you would say it was innocent revenge, which 
 will cost my enemies no money and me no con- 
 cern."
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 24)3 
 
 " On this point as you like, then, Mr. Doug- 
 lass; but I suppose you intend to return and 
 look after your furniture, and to dispose of the 
 lease of your house ? Take care, with all your 
 luck, you don't fall into a lawsuit, — that's the 
 worst suit any man can wear." 
 
 " Well, if I do, Mr. Verity, I shall fall into 
 honourable hands, for I must employ you," re- 
 plied Douglass. 
 
 " The less chance you will have of gaining 
 the day then," continued the solicitor. " If you 
 want to defend an action at common law, go to 
 FurnivaFs Inn, and hunt up the readiest rogue 
 of the batch. But I will take care of you in this 
 respect, at least concerning your house." 
 
 *' Here's the supper," said Douglass ; " and 
 here's Mary laughing and chuckling like a young 
 magpie. Come, spread it out, my lass ; — ^here, take 
 the keys and rummage the cellar, — don't be shy, 
 hand up all you can find — I fancy there is not 
 enough to make a lady drunk. — And now, Mr. 
 Verity, for your account of the last moments of 
 Mr. Benjamin Houghton. You know, of course, 
 that I only saw him for four days in my life, 
 
 u2
 
 244 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 and that under peculiar circumstances ; so tliat 
 if I do appear rather in high spirits at my good 
 fortune, I am sure you will do me the credit 
 to absolve me from all hypocrisy. If I were to 
 begin and cry and sigh, to rend my heart and 
 tear my garments, — or, as was done by an ancient 
 people, root out my hair, — why, you would be- 
 lieve me to be a snivelling fellow in whom no 
 confidence could be placed. I liked old Ben- 
 jamin, both himself and his upper garment of 
 the same name ; he might have lived longer, and 
 I should not have repined, — he might have re- 
 turned to my humble dwelling and been wel- 
 come : but since it has pleased God to take 
 him, and pleased him to leave me some of his 
 money, why I am sorry he is gone if he wished 
 to live, but glad as to the result. And so I make 
 a clean confession to my legal adviser." 
 
 " Spoken out boldly, like a conscientious evi- 
 dence which it is no use cross-examining," re- 
 plied Verity: " I can enter into your feelings. 
 The poor old gentleman, after he left you in 
 November last, returned to town and made a 
 new will. He remained only long enough for the
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 245 
 
 document to be prepared and signed : he put it 
 into my hands and said, ' I have always re- 
 spected you for your candour and your honesty : 
 I leave this with you, — no soul breathing is aware 
 of its contents but yourself; it will therefore rest 
 with you to act up to the spirit of the dead. 
 Now, good-Vye ! you will never seeme again, for 
 I feel I have not long to live : however, if I do 
 send for you, mind and be active in obeying the 
 summons."* He left me almost directly, and took 
 a house in Cheltenham, where he was remarked, 
 as he appears to have been in this village, more 
 from his disregard to di-ess than for the charity 
 he bestowed with liberal hands — although with 
 servants he was parsimonious in the extreme ; his 
 food was simple, and in those niggardly habits 
 which he had practised in his youth, he very 
 nearly starved his own nurse. Last Thursday 
 I received a two penny-post note from him, dated 
 Carmarthen Street, and desiring me to come in- 
 stantly. I obeyed, and found my old client upon 
 a bed from which I saw at once that he never 
 would move without the undertaker's men. The 
 apothecary, who was of no practice, and who was
 
 ^46 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 just clever enough to perceive that his patient 
 was about to leave him, recommended calling 
 in a physician ; but Mr. Houghton strenuously 
 objected to throwing away money upon so bad 
 a subject as himself. I arrived in the middle 
 of the argument ; I instantly despatched a boy 
 for Dr. Baillie, who fortunately was at home^ 
 Directly he visited the patient, he gave him a 
 general release, as he saw he could not arrest 
 the progress of the case ; — in fact, it was evident 
 that an action had been declared against him, and 
 he had entered an appearance." 
 
 " Not by attorney, Mr. Verity ?" 
 
 "No, thank Ood ! not just yet. However, he 
 rallied a little, and sending every one out of the 
 room but myself, he recapitulated the outline of 
 Louisa's fall owing to his son, and then gave a 
 brief picture of your open pew and doors. He 
 called upon me to be your guide as I had been 
 his ; and then giving me a hint that my fee would 
 have been quite enough for the doctor, he direct- 
 ed me to have no fuss and nonsense about pa- 
 rading his carcass for a field-day, but to pop it 
 into a long wooden case, and send it down by
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 247 
 
 the van to Longdale House, to be buried under 
 a small mound which is in an open spot in the 
 wood, not far from a small spring of water. I 
 have conformed with all his wishes excepting the 
 last, and I will consult you upon it to-morrow in 
 our way to town. When he had done, he asked 
 for some wine and water. We were obliged to send 
 but for it, for he had not a drop in the house. 
 Before it came he was much worse, and could not 
 drink, I therefore wetted a rag, and squeezed it 
 into his mouth, and continued this> as it appear- 
 ed to give him some relief, until two in the 
 morning, when the rattle of death announced 
 the delivery of judgement. Before, however, the 
 light was extinguished for ever, he sat upright in 
 his bed, and with a kind of lightning before 
 death, he glanced his eyes round the room, and 
 saying, ' Where is Harry ? — where is my son, 
 my poor forgiven son !' he fell back and died. 
 It was to me, who make money, and who spend 
 it rather freely, a wonder that a man of his pro- 
 perty could have contented himself with such a 
 lodging — excepting that no one would have sus- 
 pected him of being the man he was ; and thus
 
 ^48 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 he passed on without observation until his last 
 moments ; the apothecary believing him to be al- 
 most a pauper ; — and the good old woman who 
 nursed him was much of the same opinion ; he 
 had hired her at ten shillings the month, and had 
 paid a fortnight in advance. I believe the old 
 female thought I wanted a nurse, when I gave 
 her a ten-pound note for the trouble she had ^ 
 had, and the kind feeling she had manifested. 
 Now, sir, as the time draws on, and we have suf- 
 ficient to do for to-morrow, here is to your health 
 and wealth : may you spend it honourably, and 
 go down to your grave at a good old age, re- 
 spected by the poor of Longdale House, which 
 estate, besides the 70,000/. is yours, and left free 
 of all encumbrances, or of settlements. He 
 once thought of making you take his name ; but 
 he considered that some of the slander which 
 had been affixed to his son might by mistake 
 be given to you, and thus hurt your prosperity. 
 So now, sir, having broken the ice of our ac- 
 quaintance, I shall betake myself to bed, and 
 hope that to-morrow before ten we shall be quite 
 ready to start for London."''
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 249 
 
 "Good night, Mr. Verity," said Robert; 
 " you have been the only harbinger of good 
 news 1 have ever had through my unfortunate 
 existence. May you sleep soundly, having done 
 your duty conscientiously and well. I shall not 
 trouble the poppy god much, I feel, but I will 
 not detain you." And away went Verity, pre- 
 ceded by Mary, who had dressed herself out in 
 her best, in order to show her participation in 
 her master'*s good fortune. 
 
 Now came reflection ; and as Douglass stretch- 
 ed himself out upon the bed which for two years 
 had borne his weight, he began to sum up his 
 day's doings, as the old gentleman told him a 
 famous English judge always did. He had never 
 thought of Margaret, excepting in that sudden 
 ebullition when in reality he thought of sharing 
 his fortune with her. She had refused him as a 
 pauper, she had discredited him, she had even 
 laughed at him : now, he had the means of re- 
 venge ; but that was a mean cowardly spirit, and 
 he did not entertain it a moment. But very dif- 
 ferent did he feel from being the humble man 
 he had been, Margaret's age, he found, was too 
 
 M 5
 
 250 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 near his own — he had always considered twelve 
 years as necessary ; he knew by experience that 
 a parity of age never conduces to happiness — he 
 knew well the difference between a man and a 
 woman at forty-five ; — still, he liked the Ansons, 
 and he began to harbour a slight aifection for 
 Julia, who was then only sixteen, and who pro- 
 mised to be as fine a woman as her sister, with- 
 out being so much spoiled or so selfish. Then he 
 wandered away to Paris and to Rome ; and after 
 a night through, in which he dozed but never 
 slept, he was aroused by Mary at seven o'clock, 
 and went through, for the last time for many 
 years, the drudgery of being his own servant. 
 He was down, dressed and ready, by eight 
 o'clock. He presented Mary with ten pounds, by 
 way of beginning ; he gave instructions as to the 
 house, and took good care to let his little tat- 
 tling maid know his good fortune ; then telling 
 her that if when Mr. Verity was ready for break- 
 fast he had not returned, she would find him 
 somewhere about the Ansons"* gate. 
 
 It happened that as he approached the gate he 
 met a gang of strolling gipsies ; and being accost- 
 ed by a rather pretty girl of the tribe, who was
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 251 
 
 solicitous to tell his fortune, he stopped close 
 to the cottage, and giving a shilling to have his 
 palm crossed with the silver, the little black-eyed 
 girl thus enacted prophet, after first asking him 
 if he gave it with a good will and generous heart : 
 "Ah, sir," she began, ''many's the long mile 
 you have travelled, and many's the more you 
 have got to go ; — it is not a journey you are going 
 to take directly that I count, but miles and miles 
 away, away. You have had many crosses and mis- 
 haps, but now you are rich and happy ; but the 
 day will come when you will remember the poor 
 gipsy girl, when you will not be so wealthy as you 
 shall be this day : it 's fortune that will ruin you. 
 There 's many a fair one will seek to win you ; 
 but the one you once loved, you will never 
 marry ; and though she is not far off, yet your 
 bride is nearer : it 's all as fixed as fate — the girl 
 you would have married yesterday this day is 
 not for you." She finished, and walked on to- 
 wards the village, leaving Douglas^ most super- 
 stitiously pondering over the truth of this guess- 
 girl, when, giving a deep sigh and turning round, 
 he saw Julia standing by the gate watching him. 
 Rumours of wealth had gone before him, and as
 
 S52 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 he advanced to shake her little hand, Margaret 
 asked him to come in and breakfast. He pleaded 
 the presence of his solicitor, and scarcely heeded 
 the congratulations of Mrs. Anson, whose head 
 was now exhibited, and who seconded the invita- 
 tion ; but at that moment he saw Mary, and 
 waving his hand as he offered to carry any 
 parcel to town for them, he turned round, and 
 was soon at home. 
 
 Robert began to think the gipsy was right on 
 every point, for on many he knew her to be so. 
 To be sure, he knew that every man who 
 was not tied by the leg either to a counter 
 or a shop-board must travel a good deal ; 
 and as for love, what would a gipsy girVs pro- 
 phecy be without a spice of that ? — every man 
 must fall in love, or fancy himself to be so. In 
 short, he turned it all over in his mind, and 
 came to this conclusion : that if he was to be 
 ruined after all, and know poverty and be ac- 
 quainted with the poor, he might as well have 
 some fun for his money ; and as to his yester- 
 day's love, be had already eased himself of that, 
 or all the solicitors in the world would never have 
 k^pt him from Margaret.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 25S 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 At ten o'clock Mr. Verity and Douglass left 
 the residence of the latter and proceeded to 
 London. Robert felt a degree of pleasure un- 
 known to him before when he observed several of 
 his old maiden friends watching his departure : 
 he waved a most patronizing bow, and he ima- 
 gined how severely they must have regretted 
 the trifling civility of opening a pew-door. It 
 was resolved during the journey that the old 
 benefactor should be buried in a decent manner, 
 without any fuss or parade, in the spot he had 
 selected : they broke down his directions in regard 
 to the van by making a hearse into that convey- 
 ance. They had little time to make arrange- 
 ments, for it was agreed that Mr. Verity should 
 accompany Robert, preceding the corpse, to put 
 him in possession, and likewise to arrange all the
 
 ^54 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 preliminary necessaries. Douglass took care to 
 have a regular vault made, and ordered a most 
 splendid monument — one not unlike that cele- 
 brated mark of affection planned by the present 
 king over the late queen of Prussia. 
 
 In the mean time, the vanity of human nature 
 began to embitter the moments of Robert's life. 
 When he first saw Longdale, he saw a paradise. 
 It was beautifully situated on a gentle rising 
 ground ; the long, even shaved lawn finishing at the 
 bank of a large lake of water : beyond this was a 
 thick wood, which flanked the eastern side of the 
 house, protecting it from the cold winds of that 
 quarter ; whilst on the left was one of the most 
 splendid views in the county of Kent. The 
 house was spacious, but too elegantly furnished : 
 Robert was afraid to move his own chairs for fear 
 of spoiling their splendour. Every room was in 
 excellent preservation ; and the old housekeeper 
 Avho welcomed him to this godsend declared 
 that ever since Mr. Houghton had visited it, which 
 was six weeks previous to this day, she had, in 
 obedience to his orders, been busily employed in 
 preparing the house for its new master. This
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 255 
 
 estate comprised one thousand acres in a ring 
 fence, and was advantageously fanned out, pror 
 ducirg a very respectable income, — for at that 
 time agricultural distress was not the cry of the 
 ■whole nation. The fact was, the property 
 had been so well managed between Mr. Verity 
 and the housekeeper, that Robert thought he 
 could not leave it in better hands, more espe- 
 cially as he had been a witness to the honesty 
 and the attention of both. He took good care 
 to know that every requisite for a family was in 
 the house : he visited the cellars, and saw the 
 tenants at will therein ; — they were closely packed, 
 and had very dignified titles appended to their 
 habitations. He received the congratulations of 
 the people who lived near him ; but he was 
 pleased — much pleased, when he heard that the 
 family from which Hairy Houghton had select- 
 ed his wife had long since left the neighbourhood, 
 as the very name of Longdale rang like the last 
 curse of old Houghton in the ears of his dying 
 daughter-in-law upon the good old father of that 
 excellent family. 
 
 The day of the funeral arrived, and the hearse
 
 ^56 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 made its dusty appearance. Robert saw the cof- 
 fin of Benjamin Houghton placed in the vault ; 
 he heard the service of the dead in solemn accents 
 read over him, he threw some dust himself upon his 
 grave, and he became the full and only possessor 
 of the soil — for he who owned it was become a 
 part of it. He gave some directions as to render- 
 ing the monument, when it should be finished, an 
 object worthy to meet the eye ; and after sleep- 
 ing that night at Longdale, accompanied Verity 
 to town in order to settle his affairs before he 
 began to put his schemes into operation. His 
 first wish was to see Louisa Stanhope, now Louisa 
 Walton. She attended at Verity''s, in order to 
 sign the release with her husband, and Robert 
 could not but admire the regularity of her 
 beauty: she was now only twenty-five, and a 
 finer woman could not be seen in the metropolis. 
 When Robert was first introduced to her, she 
 led him aside from the desk and the parchments, 
 and said, " You know my history, I am inform- 
 ed ;" and the large tears filled her beautiful eyes. 
 She was in deep mourning, and spoke in terms of 
 the warmest gratitude of old Mr. Houghton, but
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 257 
 
 she never once alluded to Harry. Robert could 
 not help inquiring for Cavendish, and learned 
 that he had lately been engaged in some swin- 
 dling transaction, and had left the country, having 
 twice or thrice solicited charity from the very 
 being he had so often endeavoured to render a 
 common prostitute on the town. That excellent 
 creature relieved him ; for although fallen in the 
 estimation of Virtue, and justly fallen, yet we 
 cannot but admire the fortitude of one who still 
 maintained the dignity of her former station, and 
 who did not allow the frowns of the world to 
 render her heart callous to the call of mercy. 
 
 Amongst other acquaintances that he made, 
 Charles Stanhope was one. He was a soldier 
 by profession, — not from choice, but neces- 
 sity : his other brothers had engrossed all the 
 interest the father held in church preferment, 
 and he had been driven to the sword for an oc- 
 cupation and employment. Charles was one of 
 those very few men we sometimes meet who 
 regulate every idea by the strict standard of 
 honour : he carried it beyond what was requisite ; 
 for if we are told we are not to " be righteous
 
 258 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 over-much" in religion, so we may say, " Be not 
 honourable over-much in society. There are al- 
 ways one or two white lies which are absolutely 
 necessary ; but Charles would not tell a white 
 lie to please either his colonel or his king. He was 
 one who had profited by example, and often said 
 that he considered the whole career of Harry 
 to have been influenced by the falsehood he told 
 his father when he promised not to see his wife 
 for two years, — it was God's judgment for the 
 untruth. To Charles Stanhope, who received 
 a handsome legacy, Robert became much attach- 
 ed ; and in order to let him see the rise of his 
 fortune, Robert engaged him to visit him at 
 his old abode in the village — to sit in the pew 
 where the old gentleman sat, to sleep in his 
 bed, and to share some of the good things he 
 was now enabled to offer from the unexpected 
 liberality of Mr. Houghton. In the mean time 
 he made various purchases, and sent down some 
 of the good things of this life. Mary circulated 
 the report that Mr. Douglass was about to re- 
 turn ; and the gossips of the village imagining 
 from this circumstance that his good fortune had
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 259 
 
 been overrated, already began to term the for- 
 tune " a trifling legacy." 
 
 At the cottage one of those little scenes so 
 common in life occurred the morning Robert left 
 the village. Julia, who though so young that pas- 
 sion could not inspire a feeling, yet felt a com- 
 fortable glow and an uncomfortable blush when 
 she mentioned to the assembled family the whole 
 predictions of the gipsy. Mrs. Anson checked 
 her folly, and comforted Margaret, who only 
 thought of uniting herself with a man of wealth, 
 by the assurance that no gipsy tale could alter 
 his Jove ; that if the roots were in the heart, 
 none of the yellow tribe — not even the Bohe- 
 mian sovereign — could drive it out of the head ; 
 and knowing the natural coldness of Margaret, 
 she began to work upon her avarice more than 
 upon her feelings. 
 
 " Nonsense, Julia, my dear !" said Mrs. An- 
 son. " Robert has already declared his passion 
 for Margaret ; and now that he has a sufficiency, 
 all obstacles will be removed — his first wish will 
 be to throw himself and his money at Margaret's 
 feet, and I advise her to pick both up. You know,
 
 ^60 , WALSINGHAM, 
 
 my dear Margaret, that discretion, not dislike, 
 prompted your refusal." 
 
 " I dare say he would do as well as another, mam- 
 Xna ; and I suppose we shall live in London. I 
 really long to leave this wretched dull hole, and see 
 something more of the world. Besides, you can 
 all come and stay with us, excepting Julia, and she 
 is too young to be out yet." 
 
 " I have got the gipsy's prophecy," said the 
 little Julia, blushing; " and I shall go to town, 
 you may rely upon it, Margaret : you cannot be 
 jealous of my beauty or influence." 
 
 '' A prophecy .'*" interrupted Margaret : " girls 
 of sixteen had better think of their governess 
 than of their future husbands. Why, you don't 
 think that he would marry you ?" 
 
 " If he asks me," replied the open-hearted Julia, 
 '* I shall have him ; for he is a kind man, and 
 never yet said a harsh word to me. But I wonder 
 if he has gone to town, and if he will return ?" 
 
 " They say that he has got 50,000/. from 
 that old man who visited him three months since, 
 and that he was not his father," continued Mar- 
 garet ; " so that he has not been sailing, as Mr.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 261 
 
 Gammon the attorney said, under false colours — 
 although he changed his very often when I taxed 
 him with it. I really wish I had never run away 
 when he made his declaration of love : but to think 
 of marrying a man who had 150/. a year was 
 too absurd, and to rust and rot in this miserable 
 village was quite preposterous." 
 
 " I should not wonder," replied Julia, " if 
 your cool manner does not cool him. He offered 
 himself when he had nothing but himself to 
 offer, and you refused him : now, if you accept 
 him, it must be obvious even to a lover, that his 
 money, and not the man, was the bait." 
 
 " Suppose, Julia," replied Margaret, " you 
 mind your own business. I tell you it is quite 
 indifferent to me whom I marry ; but now I am 
 determined to have Robert, for I have no idea 
 of younger sisters interfering in such concerns." 
 
 ** Julia, my dear," said Mrs. Anson, " go 
 to Miss Boreum and practise your piano. I 
 wonder how the word love ever got into your 
 head !" 
 
 *' Why, mamma, I had my fortune told by the 
 gipsy : and she said she knew I was in love ; and
 
 ^2 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 she described Robert so well, that I think I shall 
 take compassion upon him, since Margaret only 
 likes his money. But I wonH quarrel with my 
 pretty sister about him ; and if he speaks to you 
 first, you may have him, on conditions that I am 
 to be one of the bridesmaids. So now we are 
 agreed, give me a kiss, and I will go to my 
 studies. I wonder when I shall have done with 
 Miss Boreum and be out ; for although I like 
 her as much as a girl can like her governess, yet 
 I confess I should rejoice to be independent." 
 
 " Do go, Julia !'"' said Mrs. Anson : '' how 
 your tongue does run riot ! — one would think the 
 gipsy girl had told you you were to find a fortune, 
 and that she had been a true prophet." 
 
 '' Oh, mamma, I remember what she said : I 
 shall find a fortune and a husband too." 
 
 Robert had bought a caniage, one handsome 
 and convenient ; and in it he placed Charles and 
 himself, whilst in the rumble the servant, a per- 
 sonage of much pretension both in looks and ac- 
 complishments, occuphied is seat. He had only 
 a pair of horses, but the equipage was one which 
 would have created a sensation in any village.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 26S 
 
 " I am now, Charles,**' he said as they drove 
 away from the hotel in London, " about to 
 make you a confidant in my history. I shall 
 have the pleasure to-night to introduce you to one 
 of the handsomest women in England, with whom 
 I candidly confess I was much in love. It is 
 now scarcely a month ago, and the day pre- 
 vious to Mr. Verity'*s information of my good 
 fortune, that I made her a proposition of mar- 
 riage ; and she not only refused me, but refused 
 me coldly : she actually, laughed at me, and con- 
 veyed the ungracious negative with a want of 
 feeling which shocked me, — nay, it was an im- 
 plied scorn. I left the village the day after 
 Verity^s visit, having spent the evening with 
 the family, and from the mother heard a con- 
 firmation of the sentence declared against me. 
 It was near midnight when Verity arrived 
 and I became an affluent man. I shall have 
 no secrets from you; and I tell you that, in 
 spite of all my good fortune, the contempt with 
 which I was treated by this beautiful statue has 
 made me dread to meet her. I know that on 
 our arrival we shall be asked to dinner there,
 
 264 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 and I want your advice as to tlie propriety of 
 accepting it.'' 
 
 " Do you intend,'' asked Stanhope, " to re- 
 sume your intimacy with the family, so as to 
 leave them to suppose that you still harboured a 
 love which her breath might send to sea ?" 
 
 *' Most certainly not," replied Robert : " my 
 intention in this little excursion is to show you 
 how and where I was living, to make you sit in 
 the fortunate pew, to bid farewell to all my neigh- 
 bours, and to express to Mrs. Anson my warmest 
 thanks for her former hospitality." 
 
 " An honourable embassy, in which I shall 
 be your secretary," said Charles ; " and then — " 
 
 " Then my intention is to take a Continental 
 tour with some such good fellow as yourself; 
 or, if you feel inclined — for we have both seen 
 France and Italy, — to steer across the Atlantic 
 and visit Jonathan, I am your companion for as 
 long as you can obtain leave of absence." 
 
 " That would suit my inclination and my 
 desires well," replied Charles ; " but you must 
 not force me into extravagances or render me 
 insignificant by your wealth,"
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 265 
 
 " I feel that to be impossible,'" replied Dou- 
 glass ; " your sterling qualities are more valuable 
 than my money ; but I promise to place my ex- 
 penditure at the ratio you yourself shall fix, and 
 thus then we agree to visit Jonathan in his own 
 state." 
 
 " In one of them at any rate," replied Stan- 
 hope. '' What place is this we are coming to ? — a 
 man that could live here must be one tired of the 
 world, and " 
 
 " Turn to the right, boy, at the Elephant and 
 Dormouse, and stop at the first white house on 
 the left-hand side. Come, drive us up sharply." 
 
 Smack went the w^hip ; the wheels whisked 
 round with increased velocity ; out of every win- 
 dow pop came a head to see the carriage. Dou- 
 glass sat back with becoming retirement as the 
 vehicle quickly passed the Elephant, turned to the 
 riglit, and stopped opposite the door. An hostler 
 from the inn ran to offer fresh horses ; and as 
 Robert was rather the better in appearance for 
 a London tailor's decorations, when he stepped 
 from the carriage, the lout exclaimed : " Why 
 here"'s he be again, and as bright as a new penny !" 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 
 
 The carriage was sent to the inn, and Robert 
 ushered Stanhope into his little parlour. " Here 
 it was," he said, " that old Houghton told me 
 his misfortunes : here 's the humble table which 
 was spread to welcome him, and in this little 
 cabin did he feel more comfort than he had known 
 for years." The London gentleman''s valet turn- 
 ed up his nose at the small habitation, and gave 
 Mary a look of contempt, as much as to say, 
 " Country vermin !" 
 
 Douglass was right in his conjecture. Before 
 he had time to give directions to Mary as to 
 dinner, a note, written in Margaret's hand, was 
 delivered to him. It forestalled him in every way, 
 for it mentioned that they knew he had not 
 ordered dinner, and that a companion accom- 
 panied him. Both were invited, and both ac- 
 cepted. The note began " My dear Robert," and 
 she was very truly his even to the end. 
 
 Stanhope remarked the beginning and the end, 
 and was about to make some objection to the 
 acceptance, when Douglass told him he had 
 always been called Robert, and had received 
 dozens of notes in the same style. In the mean
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 267 
 
 time the church bells began making the most in- 
 fernal noise ; the tradesmen, whom Douglass had 
 punctually paid, came to announce their grati- 
 tude for former custom, and to solicit a con- 
 tinuation of the same ; and when he walked out, 
 he was surrounded by candidates for service and 
 for charity. 
 
 " This is flattering, Robert, at any rate. You 
 seem to have steered a steady course whilst you 
 lived here ; and amongst the many who have 
 bowed and congratulated you, not one has 
 brought up one of those unpleasant reminis- 
 cences in the shape of a small account acciden- 
 tally forgotten, and only presented as it might 
 have escaped your memory." 
 
 " Thank God," he replied, "it is with some 
 pride that I can lay my hand to my heart and 
 declare that I never owed a farthing in my life. 
 I had but little, and within that little I ma- 
 naged to live. But here is the cottage ; let us pay 
 a visit before dinner : and I warn you, before you 
 enter, to place a good barrier before your heart." 
 
 " Never fear," said Charles ; " the captain of 
 a walking regiment has too many boots to bay, 
 
 N 2
 
 W8 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 to take a wife ; and besides, her eyes will be upon 
 3/0M ; where the treasure is, there will the heart 
 be also. By Jove ! it is a comfortable place 
 though, and fancifully decorated." 
 
 " Yes, and the inside has more beauties, and 
 natural ones, than the exterior. Mrs. Anson, this 
 is my friend Mr. Stanhope ; and we both intend 
 ourselves the pleasure of dining here to-day." 
 
 Mrs. Anson bowed and was most happy. The 
 door opened, and Margaret entered. A flush came 
 over the face of Charles ; and as Douglass shook 
 hands with her, and presented her to his friend 
 as the flower of England, he thought he never 
 saw Stanhope look so confoundedly foolish in his 
 life. He stammered and stuttered something 
 about beauty and justice, and made such a jum- 
 ble of a hotchpotch, that Robert thought he 
 should have laughed outright. Then Julia came 
 running in with all the joy and the sincerity of 
 youth, and taking Douglass's hand, said with a 
 smile, " My congratulations, although last, are 
 not the less sincere." 
 
 " You are rather in error there, my dear 
 Julia," replied Robert, " for you are the first
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 269 
 
 to congratulate me; and in return, I will present 
 you to my best friend, Mr. Stanhope. Here, 
 Charles," he said, " here is my little favourite" — 
 a blush came over her cheek, — " as nice a young 
 lady as heart ever warmed, and who intends to 
 rival her sister'^s beauty." 
 
 " That ""s impossible,'''' replied Charles ; but re- 
 collecting the bad compliment it was to Julia, 
 he managed to bungle out of the unhappy speech 
 by saying, " that although the promises were 
 good, yet that no mother could be so blessed." 
 Then came divers congratulations, many inquiries 
 into the unexpected windfall. From Margaret, 
 however, came this remark : " that she was glad 
 to see Robert so prosperous, and flattered to find 
 he still remembered his best friends at the 
 cottage." 
 
 There could be no mistaking this : it was an 
 evident signal that hostilities had ceased, and an 
 amity had begun. But Robert knew not why it 
 was, for Margaret was beautiful as ever, that he dis- 
 trusted this apparently honest friendship. He had 
 watched her behaviour, and had observed that 
 although she made those false advances to him.
 
 270 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 her real attack seemed diverted towards Stanhope. 
 Her disposition to flirt and to conquer was too 
 evident : she considered Robert as hers, and now 
 she wished to entice Stanhope into her snares. 
 
 Any woman might have admired Stanhope : 
 He was of a good height, rather a dark com- 
 plexion, with brilliant eyes ; his features being 
 well formed — nay, handsome. He wore on his 
 countenance the honesty, the integrity of his 
 heart. He spoke, excepting when Margaret was 
 the theme, like the straightforward soldier he 
 was. To a good classical education he had added 
 the accomplishments gained by travelling ; and 
 whilst he stood firmly as an English soldier, he 
 could turn the lighter words of compliment, or 
 fascinate by the melody of his voice. It was 
 quite evident to any casual beholder that Stan- 
 hope was captured without firing a shot, and that 
 Margaret only sought the prize in order to swell 
 the list of her triumphs. 
 
 Their return to the humble home in order to 
 make the necessary preparations for dinner was 
 not interrupted by any lover-like fits or starts. 
 Charles was silent, and apparently questioning
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 271 
 
 his own heart ; Robert kept his eye fixed upon 
 him, and the only words which were spoken 
 were by the latter, who asked " when Charles 
 would be ready to sail to America?" Charles 
 looked at the questioner, and could not refrain 
 from a smile. 
 
 If poverty makes a man acquainted with strange 
 bedfellows, unexpected riches bring many a no- 
 minal friend. Robert found on his table, although 
 he had not arrived an hour, invitations from half 
 the parish. Those who shunned him before were 
 anxious for his acquaintance now. The carriage 
 had been passed in review by half the community ; 
 the servant had been bored to death by inquiries. 
 He happened to mention the beauty of Longdale 
 house, and he placed in the hands, or rather the 
 mouths of his tormentors, a series of questions 
 to which he was destined to answer. He was 
 asked why his master came — when he returned — 
 how much he had received — who left it; — in 
 short, everything relative to him, past, present, 
 or future, was seized by the dexterous ingenuity 
 of the wondering women. 
 
 They were dressed and ready to start to the
 
 272 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 cottage — when Stanhope, taking Douglass by the 
 arm, said : " One word in confidence, Robert. 
 Be candid with me : have you any serious inten- 
 tions as regards Margaret. Tell me, I entreat you, 
 the truth." 
 
 " On my honour, Charles, I have not the least 
 intention of resuming my former situation of her 
 lover," replied Douglass. " Her admirer, as far 
 as her beauty goes, I am still ; but I will 
 pledge you my honour that I will never make 
 her another proposition." 
 
 " Then I am more easy," replied Stanhope ; 
 " for I own to you that I feel myself led cap- 
 tive already : I never saw so splendid a jewel 
 before." 
 
 " Oh, oh !" said Douglass, " you will feel dif- 
 ferently when we are in America." 
 
 " To America I don't go, Robert, until that 
 girl is Margaret Stanhope, or I a lost man." 
 
 " There's many a lost man found in America," 
 replied Douglass with a smile. 
 
 At dinner they were placed according to their 
 own desires. The mamma and the two daugh- 
 ters were separated by the clergyman and them-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 27o 
 
 selves. The reverend divine paid great attention 
 to Mrs. Anson ; Charles made a most vigorous 
 assault upon Margaret ; whilst Robert by soft 
 endearment gradually sapped the breastworks of 
 Julia's heart. Never were three men so placed 
 exactly to their wishes, and perhaps never were 
 three women more agreeable. They made no 
 noisy chorus, no open-mouthed hullabaloo ; but 
 they spoke lowly in duets, or sighed in solos. 
 After dinner, whilst the clergyman and Mrs. 
 Anson were engaged at backgammon, Julia and 
 Douglass tried chess, and Charles sung to the 
 accompaniment of ^largaret. It was Saturday 
 night, and it was close upon Sunday morning 
 before they reached home. Before they depart- 
 ed, they were engaged for the moiTow. 
 
 " Well,'" said Charles, as he drew his chair 
 to the table and filled a glass of champaign, 
 (for Douglass had taken care to have all good 
 things sent down,) "my flint is fixed; I am, thank 
 God, independent, and I do not leave this village 
 until I know if I am to be married or not. As 
 for the soldier's coat, that is none the worse for 
 
 a woman's care ; as for the musket " 
 
 n5
 
 274 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " You had better discharge that," interrupted 
 Robert, " or you may be sent off like a shot 
 yourself. Margaret will never dangle after a walk- 
 ing captain ; and you had better change your 
 flint for a cap, or perhaps she will set hers for 
 
 you." 
 
 '' That would discharge me more readily than 
 her words," replied Stanhope. "But tell me, 
 Robert, your plain undisguised opinion of her : 
 do not extenuate, or set aught down in malice." 
 
 " My judgment, as Mr. Verity would say," 
 answered Douglass, " is summed up from my own 
 notes. In the first place, all evidence is in favour 
 of her beauty : we therefore give her the full 
 benefit of that redeeming virtue. She is a cold 
 beauty, a kind of Lot^s wife, not satisfied with 
 her lot — without any of the salt of accomplish- 
 ments, though, like Peter ^ a catcher of men." 
 
 " A very pretty picture !" ejaculated Charles. 
 
 " Just so," retorted Robert ; '' a very pretty 
 picture, set in a very pretty frame. However, I 
 am bound to say, she never, that I knew, paint- 
 ed herself" 
 
 " The bell-ringers, sir," said John, as he enter-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 275 
 
 ed, '' send their compliments, and hope you will 
 be kind enough to remember them." 
 
 " Here, give them this guinea," said Douglass, 
 " and tell them, I hope they will never ring the 
 changes for me again, excepting when another 
 belle goes nearer the altar than the steeple." 
 
 " Why, Robert, you are, notwithstanding your 
 mourning, pretty gay this evening." 
 
 '' I say, Charles, did you see me playing at 
 chess V 
 
 " I saw you moving the men," replied his 
 companion. 
 
 " So I did, and I found a mate. Although it 
 is scarcely a month since I proposed to Mar- 
 garet, yet I gave Julia a hint, that we talked of 
 knights and bishops in such a brisk running of 
 words that we never came to a check." 
 
 " Poor little soul !" replied Stanhope ; " only 
 sixteen ! Why, you must hire a nurse for her." 
 
 " All in good time, my dear fellow," replied 
 Douglass, whose spirits were high enough without 
 any artificial aid. '' Don't be alarmed ; we shall 
 require them, I dare say. And now for an ex- 
 pose on my part : I will marry Julia, or 1 11 — "
 
 216 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 "Go to America," said Charles ; " and I will 
 have Margaret, and be your brother.'*'' 
 
 They warmed over this conversation ; but the 
 Sabbath had begun, and Robert remembered the 
 lesson of example which old Houghton had given 
 him.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 277 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 There is something beautifully solemn during 
 the Sabbatli in the country — it appears in reality 
 a day of rest ; and often may the labourer have 
 stood on a rising ground near Mere worth, looking 
 over the beauty of Yotes, and wondering at the 
 stillness of heaven. The bell which summons 
 to prayer threw its deep tone over the valley; 
 but the cattle seemed hushed — the air was still, 
 not a leaf moved, and nature itself was relaxed 
 from its labours and resting on the seventh day. 
 That day brings with it rest to the weary and 
 repose to the active ; it gives a stimulus to exer- 
 tion ; it makes the guilty afraid, and the good 
 satisfied. And if that silence, that repose, is 
 broken when the prayers of the Sabbath are over, 
 and innocent recreation triumphs over idle in- 
 action, is this wholesome restoration to be called
 
 278 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 a sin, and should bigoted legislators rise to crush 
 the harmless pastime ? Away with such inconsis- 
 tency — such tyranny ! You will allow the labourer 
 to smoke, to drink, to assemble together — you 
 hold out a premium upon drunkenness, and you 
 repress the very innocent amusement which would 
 wean them from a villanous expenditure of their 
 hard-earned wages, and rid them of the surest 
 enemy to health and contentment known since 
 the days of Noah. 
 
 Robert entered the church with a firm step, 
 and a firmer resolution, to offer up his most sin- 
 cere thanksgivings for his power to do good, 
 and earnestly to implore the Divine assistance to 
 employ his means for the benefit of his fellow- 
 creatures. He felt shocked at the idle curiosity 
 which prompted all his former acquaintances to 
 watch his manner and to scan his companion. 
 He led Stanhope to his pew ; and if he had required 
 an example to pray, that excellent man would 
 have served him as a model : his was fervent pray- 
 er; his eyes never wandered even to her he 
 most loved, but his responses were low and im- 
 pressive. It occurred to Robert that he had
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. S79 
 
 never seen a man more solemn in the house of 
 prayer, or more cheerful and contented out of 
 it. Mr. Maxwell preached ; and no sooner was 
 his text given, than Douglass was again the pub- 
 lic gaze of the congregation : even Stanhope touch- 
 ed him with his knee, and Robert felt like a sin- 
 ner about to receive a rebuke as the preacher 
 the second time repeated the words of his text, — 
 " For man walketh in a vain shadow, and dis- 
 quieteth himself in vain : he heapeth up riches, 
 and cannot tell who shall gather them." 
 
 The discourse, ably written, eloquently preach- 
 ed, touched Douglass in the right place. Once 
 Mr. Maxwell in plain words alluded to him, 
 and implored him to turn the resources now in 
 his power, not to idle dissipation, but to the 
 relief of the indigent : he spoke of those " who 
 gave to the poor, lending to the Lord," and he 
 warned him to lay up riches in heaven. It was 
 not without a secret pang that Douglass listened 
 with all attention to that excellent man's advice ; 
 and when his book was closed, he most solemnly 
 prayed to put his words into execution. As 
 Stanhope left the church to make his bow and
 
 280 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 join the Ansons, Douglass remained in his pew 
 and baffled curiosity: for it was not until the 
 clergyman Tiad withdrawn to the vestry, that he 
 rose, and, to the wonder of those who hunt after 
 novelties, followed Mr. Maxwell to his retreat. 
 The rector seemed rather astonished at his en- 
 trance ; but when he took his hand and thank- 
 ed him for his excellent advice, he saw a glow of 
 satisfaction pass over his countenance. 
 
 " I know," said Robert, " my dear sir, how 
 vainly in this life we propose to act, — the dispo- 
 sition is above : but I am anxious to show you 
 that I had partially forestalled your sermon. 
 You know how slender have been my means of 
 doing good, and you know that for four years 
 I have resided near you, unable, — positively un- 
 able to contribute much towards the relief of 
 the poor. That is now passed, and I hasten to 
 avail myself of this first opportunity to contri- 
 bute something to the alleviation of the distresses 
 of my fellow-parishioners. Allow me to place this 
 cheque in your hand, to be distributed in any 
 manner and to whatever objects you may think 
 deserving. — Good morning : we meet, I believe, at
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 281 
 
 six.*" And Robert was soon with the Ansons, 
 who had awaited his coming. 
 
 " You don't want a second,*" said Charles 
 with a smile on his countenance, " do you ? 
 Clergymen are privileged people, and we must 
 avail ourselves of their advice without feeling 
 hurt." 
 
 " Kindly considered, my dear Stanhope : per- 
 haps I may want you to carry a message to him 
 before long ; but at present he and myself are on 
 very good terms, I assure you."' 
 
 Those little civilities which mark the charm 
 of civilised life passed between them as they 
 walked home; Stanhope keeping close to Mar- 
 garet, who seemed to have fancied his society 
 more than Robert believed the marble statue 
 could have done, whilst he himself steadily fixed 
 his attention upon Julia; and although Mrs. Anson 
 did occasionally manoeuvre so as to place them in 
 other positions, yet they were mutually attracted, 
 and a mother might have seen that their eyes 
 met more frequently than those of casual and cold 
 visiters. 
 
 It is said that love is a plant which grows di-
 
 282 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 recti y from the heart, winding its roots round the 
 centre of life, and endangering its existence when 
 it is suddenly torn away. " It cannot come from 
 the head," says Hood, in his " Tylney Hall ;" but, 
 with all due deference to that talented and witty 
 author, some men hold him to be mistaken. 
 Love is more generally grown in the head, and 
 ultimately takes root in the heart. The gipsy''s 
 rubbish had first given the slip of this precious 
 flower to Julia, and Robert soon transplanted it 
 to a warmer region. In the mean time, Stanhope 
 was gradually, as he thought, progressing: he 
 had got to " shaking hands," " making eyes," 
 and many other of the early resting-places of 
 incipient affection. 
 
 They had been a week, and then a fortnight, 
 and ultimately a month, residing in a village out 
 of which Douglass would three months previous 
 have paid half his little store to have got. He 
 had rather gained ground from the trumpet- 
 tongued praise of Mr. Maxwell, who extolled 
 the liberality of his parochial donation, which 
 was 200/., into the munificent offering of a prince. 
 It now became evident that both Stanhope and
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 283 
 
 Douglass were bound to make a declaration of 
 their sentiments ; and as they talked over that 
 important point, they came to the resolution of 
 making their hand -offerings on the following day, 
 each lecturing the other. 
 
 " Depend upon it," said Robert, " you have 
 mistaken Margaret. Had she heard that your 
 sister had given you 20,000/. of her money, the 
 case might be different ; but as she believes you 
 not worth one straw beyond your pay, you will 
 find that she is indifferent to your person, al- 
 though proud of the conquest.''' 
 
 " And you, my dear Robert," replied Charles, 
 " will find that Julia does not know the feeling 
 of love. She is too young ; and notwithstanding 
 your wealth, the mother will never consent to 
 the sacrifice of her daughter's health by allowing 
 her to marry when only sixteen." 
 
 " There you are wrong, Charles, believe me," 
 replied Douglass ; " for a mother seldom weighs 
 all the may-be results of a match when 70,000/. 
 and Longdale House are in the scale." 
 
 " I cannot have so poor an opinion," retorted 
 Charles, " of human nature, as to believe that
 
 284 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 any parent thinks of money when her daughter's 
 health is concerned." 
 
 " Then, my dear fellow, you are in a happy 
 state of ignorance as to match-making," replied 
 Robert. 
 
 The morning came, and noon saw them at the 
 cottage resolved to sell their freedoms. Robert 
 felt certain of success, for he had watched the 
 constant struggle between love and propriety ; 
 he had seen those little sparkling eyes constantly 
 fixed upon him, and he knew quite enough of 
 the world and of the innocence of Julia to know 
 that her eyes only beamed with the true senti- 
 ments of her heart ; but he confessed he had his 
 misgivings as to the result of his friend's propo- 
 sition, for he had been rejected there himself 
 under similar circumstances, and Stanhope, who 
 was willing to be loved only for himself, had 
 bound Douglass to a strict promise not to betray 
 his fortune. He himself never hinted one word 
 about his money or his expectations, but kept a 
 guarded silence in respect to both. 
 
 It was May, the latter end of it ; all the flowers 
 of the spring were in their glorious liveries, and
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 285 
 
 Nature was rejoicing in her beauty. The walks, 
 shaded by occasional lilacs and laburnums, looked 
 enticing for lovers who like solitude, and Douglass 
 and Julia were soon seated on a rustic chair in 
 a bower perfumed by the beautiful odour of 
 the former flower. Robert held Julia's hand, 
 and tenderly regarded her lovely face. There was 
 an intense glow of languid feeling, and her eyes 
 seemed swollen with unusual moisture : there were 
 no tears, but the tremour of love had reached 
 her heart. They sat with eyes fixed upon each 
 other, and the tongues of both seemed debarred 
 the power of utterance. At length Douglass said, 
 as he gently pressed her hand, — 
 
 "My own, my dearest Julia ! let me seize this mo- 
 ment to confess by words what you must have often 
 seen and known by my manner. — Tell me, then, 
 if the love I feel has found its echo in your heart. 
 Nay, dearest Julia ! do not weep, or turn away that 
 flushed but charming face ; tell me, my angel, 
 if I am to be so blessed, — that in throwing my- 
 self and my fortune at your feet, I may venture 
 to hope your love for me is equal to mine, and 
 that days of happiness are yet in store for me."
 
 286 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 She did not answer, but there was an ac- 
 quiescence in her silence — she did not withdraw 
 her hand as Robert gently pressed it to his 
 heart ; and when a flood of tears had relieved 
 her from her maiden coyness, she turned towards 
 him, and in a voice scarcely audible, she re- 
 turned the pressure of his hand and answered, 
 " Robert." 
 
 'Twas done ; — Robert felt his love returned ; he 
 knew her sincerity, there was nature in all her 
 answers ; no forced blushes, no accidental tears, 
 but the pure emanation from a heart now con- 
 fessedly his. 
 
 There are moments of life worth preserving 
 in ideal spirits, if to time we could give- cor- 
 poreal substance, and embalm it with the fragrance 
 of oriental perfumes. These moments are few ; 
 and perhaps, throughout the long catalogue of 
 imaginary pleasures with which the gloom of 
 boyhood and manhood is enlightened, none can 
 shadow forth such enjoyment, such perfect un- 
 adulterated happiness, as where pure love is oflPer- 
 ed and welcomed. We speak not of the cold, 
 creeping tremour of appetite ; we speak not
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 287 
 
 of tlie pride of heart, when beauty is subdued 
 and passion satisfied ; but of that warm, generous 
 feeling which would sacrifice life itself to the 
 object it solicited. How long they enjoyed this 
 rapture they knew not : the car of Time is said 
 to move quickly over the verdant ground of plea- 
 sure, whilst pain lingers on the pace of the tor- 
 toise ; swiftly flew the chariot of enjoyment, and 
 as they talked of happiness to come, and form- 
 ed plans of future felicity, the hours flew, and 
 already the lengthening shadows of evening an- 
 nounced the necessity of their return. 
 
 Robert urged Julia to make an instant appeal 
 to her mother, for well he knew the danger of 
 teaching dissimulation to a parent. Can the hus- 
 band expect fidelity, when he himself gives the 
 lesson of deceit to his wife ? — No. The man 
 who sees in his partner the proper glow and 
 affection of the daughter towards her parent, 
 and that warmth of cordiality towards her sister, 
 may fairly presume, that she who is a good daugh- 
 ter, a sincere sister, and a true friend, will in all 
 human probability make a good wife. Julia was 
 young, not seventeen, and these marks of filial
 
 288 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 attachment rendered the prospect more brilliant. 
 Robert desired her to relate exactly his feelings, 
 which he would afterwards confirm : '' That al- 
 though he was as great an admirer of Margaret's 
 beauty as ever, still that he could not insult her 
 by fostering the love she had desired him no 
 longer to nourish ; but that her beauty, Robert 
 saw, was reflected in her sister's face, and that 
 her young heart had accepted the bird driven 
 from the abode it once thought to occupy." 
 
 Robert now quickly questioned Julia concern- 
 ing the chance of success in regard to Stanhope, 
 who, he knew, would take a refusal to heart more 
 seriously than Robert had done, for he had a balm 
 of consolation the very evening administered by 
 that most excellent Mercury, Verity; and although 
 love is a very generous plant, money is no weed, 
 and if any way related to the garden of Flora, 
 it must be in the poppy, which occasions sweet 
 slumbers and gives high spirits. Julia's appre- 
 hensions first gave Robert a warning of what he 
 might expect, she having repeated to him the 
 scene relative to the conversation which we have
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 289 
 
 already mentioned. Again and again they ex- 
 . changed their vows ; he kissed her animated 
 cheek, and at five oVlock left her at her own 
 house. Robert inquired for Stanhope— the ser- 
 vant told him he had returned home some time 
 since ; he asked for Mrs. Anson — she was indis- 
 posed ; he ventured to name Margaret — she was 
 dressing for dinner. He therefore took his leave, 
 telling Julia that he would return in the evenings 
 and with hasty strides reached the door. 
 
 We have described Stanliope before — at least 
 his mind. He was a man who had less of the 
 world's shuffles and cuts than any other human 
 1>eing we ever met with : he was as brave as a 
 lion, and with women as timid and reserved as 
 a midshipman. Robert found him seated by 
 the table, his head resting on his arms ; and 
 when he raised himself to meet him, his whole 
 countenance betrayed the grief which he had so 
 seriously experienced. 
 
 " Now then, Charles," said Robert, for he was 
 in high spirits, — " now then, my boy, as the 
 sailors say, let 's overhaul our log-books ; let's see 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 "vvhicli has made best weather during the squalls. 
 But you are looking sad enough : what''s the matter, 
 my boy ?'' 
 
 *' I am eternally rendered miserable, Robert ; 
 I shall never be happy again." 
 
 " Then she has accepted you, Charles, and you 
 repent already." 
 
 " No, no, indeed she has not, Robert ; she 
 has refused me nearly as coolly as she discarded 
 you ; and now hope is dead, for I never could 
 bring myself to offer again." 
 
 " Take a glass of wine, Charles, and let 's hear 
 all about it : I can assist you, I can bring it all 
 right, — ^but out with the story — let 's hear it all," 
 said Robert. 
 
 " Merely this, Robert : — When you went into 
 the bower, I went into the fields. We strayed far 
 away ; and when I thought she could not run 
 all the way home as she did with you, I at once 
 opened upon the subject, breaking ground gra- 
 dually, and advancing my parallels to the very 
 ditch before the battery; and then I took her 
 hand. I made no romantic speeches, but, like a 
 soldier, and consequently like a man, I warmly
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. S91 
 
 confessed my feelings, my admiration of herself 
 and her beauty. She gave no sudden start, no 
 tears swelled her eyes. I held her hand — it was 
 motionless ; I pressed it — she returned it not ; and 
 when in plain terms I told her of my love, she 
 looked me unmoved in the face and smiled. I 
 pressed her to consent to be mine ; she replied — 
 " She had never thought upon the subject ; but 
 that she feared she could not meet my wishes, as 
 her mother had destined her for you." 
 
 " Do you love Robert ?" I said — " nay, be 
 candid, my dearest Margaret, — do you love 
 him ?" 
 
 " No," she drawlingly replied : " I like him 
 well enough ; but as to loving him, I don't 
 think I do." 
 
 " You cannot conceive how I felt, I, with 
 all my warmth of heart, to find myself so slight- 
 ed after all my attention, after all my affection. 
 And you, Robert .?" 
 
 " Me! — but hang it, Charles, you have not doncf^ 
 Did you abandon the attack after skirmishing.^ — 
 after you had opened the breach, did you not 
 assault .^"
 
 292 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 " Oh yes, assault after assault, but I never 
 placed a footstep upon the battery; I was re- 
 pulsed, beaten back — and not by any warm en- 
 gagement, I assure you. Now, I am miserable. 
 I make a feeble effort at wit, as men just before 
 execution have been known to jest ; but Robert, 
 I am, I assure you, rendered unhappy for life. I 
 love that woman warmly, fervently, and I cannot 
 bear this cold, this unusual refusal— or rather, 
 chilling apathy, for actual refusal she never con- 
 descended to give.'*' 
 
 " Then live and hope, Charles," replied Ro- 
 bert. " Now, for myself, Julia is mine, and 
 through her your success is sure. Come, cheer 
 up ! After dinner I am going to the cottage to 
 speak to Mrs. Anson. I expect some little sur- 
 prise at my change of persons, and now I will 
 wager any sum that no obstacles are thrown in 
 the way, — for you I have a sure mode. But I 
 do not see why you should not accompany me ; 
 for although Margaret did not consent, she did 
 not actually refuse. And as in love or friendship, 
 which knows no cold medium, either you will 
 be dancing up in the sky like a boy on a see-
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 
 
 saw, or you will be levelled with the dust, so 
 let us fortify ourselves with the generous cham- 
 paign, and at eight we will again move our 
 columns to the attack. — Dinner, John.'' 
 
 In vain Robert rallied Charles ; he was as far 
 below as Robert was above concert pitch, and 
 consequently their sentiments kept but little har- 
 mony. Whilst Robert was buoyant with hope, 
 and attributing to his own dear self what per- 
 haps sisterly jealousy, envy, and money might 
 have controlled, Charles still harped upon the 
 same chord, — the cold, ungenerous manner of 
 Margaret. 
 
 " I tell you what Charles," said Robert, " Mar- 
 garet is no flirt — she is too ingenuous for that ; 
 but she is naturally cold, and, I was going to 
 say, heartless. Many — nay, all who have seen, 
 have admired her; but mark my words, if she 
 escapes ^ou, she will be like the lonely apple 
 offered to the guests after dinner at Echmiadzan, 
 which is smelt by all and tasted by none." * 
 
 " Ah," said Charles, with a smile which look- 
 ed like the ghost of a laugh ; "and if ever I marry, 
 * See Missionary Researches in Armenia.
 
 ^4 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 I will take care, out of pure revenge, to follow 
 up the manner of the present Chaldeans, and 
 mash my bride's feet to a mummy, in order to 
 hold the supremacy for ever after." * 
 
 " Well said, my boy ; and stamp more feeling 
 in her feet than she has in her heart.'" 
 
 The evening came, and at eight o'^clock Charles 
 and Robert went to the cottage. They were ad- 
 mitted, but found only Mrs, Anson in the draw- 
 ing-room. Robert advanced with all the confi- 
 dence of a triumphant lover and a most dutiful 
 son-in-law ; but he was rather checked than en- 
 couraged by the guarded manner of the mother, 
 who certainly did not bid him to rush into her 
 arms, and become the prop and support of her 
 growing age. She received Charles with a more 
 condescending coolness, and they all three kept 
 looking at each other like so many strange cats 
 in a garret. At length Robert began by inquir- 
 ing for the young ladies, and soon saw in which 
 quarter the wind set, by receiving for answer, 
 that the child (meaning Julia) had gone to bed, 
 it being a bad plan to keep such late hours, then 
 * See Missionary Researches in Armenia.
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 295 
 
 only nine o'clock, and that Margaret was not 
 well ; — in short, she said, " I fear Margaret 
 walked too far to-day, for she appeared very 
 much overcome when she returned." 
 
 During this conversation, Mrs. Anson occa- 
 sionally glanced a rather repulsive look at Charles, 
 who soon twisted it into a kind of death-warrant, 
 and, with the readiness of a woman, discovered he 
 had left his handkerchief at home, and taking 
 his hat, walked off, intending to await the return 
 of Robert, or to return if Robert remained long 
 enough to give hope a chance. 
 
 He had no sooner quitted the room, than Mrs. 
 Anson saved playing any prelude or conjuring 
 up an overture by breaking at once into the grand 
 opera thus : — 
 
 " I am more surprised, Mr. Douglass, than I 
 can express, at what has taken place to-day ; 
 and I really feel that I should not either do credit 
 to my daughter's feelings or my own, if I lost 
 a moment in assuring you, that however much 
 I may feel gratified at this second choice you 
 have made, by which you prepared me for the 
 honour you would confer upon my family, yet
 
 296 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 that I never could consent to Julia's marriage, at 
 her tender age, to a man who has made the 
 same avowal of affection to her elder sister. 
 Neither can I hold out any hope to Mr. Stan- 
 hope, since the very reason that I formerly gave 
 you, is applicable to himself. It is a duty a mo- 
 ther owes her daughters to see them if possible 
 comfortably settled in life, and to guard them 
 from insult. I shall not fail in the former, what- 
 ever I may have done in the latter." 
 
 " Really, Mrs. Anson," replied Robert, " I 
 am at a loss how to comprehend you. Surely the 
 declaration of affection is no insult, or the offer 
 of a fortune a blow against being comfortably 
 settled ; but the course of affection and true love 
 never yet ran without interruption, and I am 
 fully prepared to meet with, and to overcome all 
 obstacles, for my proposition is honourable, my 
 love sincere." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Douglass!" replied Mrs. Anson; 
 " and how do you suppose Margaret must feel, 
 who of course expected you would resume your 
 attentions to her, and not have chosen as a
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 297 
 
 rival her own sister, a very child, who would bet- 
 ter become the nursery than the altar." 
 
 "It was," resumed Robert, '' the idea that I 
 had paid Miss Margaret the most marked atten- 
 tion, that I felt both my inclination and my 
 honour prompt me to make the proposition I did. 
 She laughed at me — she thus refused me ; and 
 you, my dear madam, added your approval of your 
 daughter's conduct — you refused me. Why then 
 should you have anticipated a renewal of that you 
 yourself forbid ? and how could I pay so bad 
 a compliment to Margaret, as to offer myself 
 again, when it would be evident that my wealth, 
 not myself, would be accepted ?" 
 
 *' You should have been a solicitor, Mr. Dou- 
 glass ; and if you used your ingenuity, and your 
 subtlety as well for your client as you have done 
 for yourself, you would gain every cause." 
 
 "Then, madam," replied Douglass, "I may 
 hope that my defence will gain my present suit ?" 
 Mrs. Anson shook her head. " You say no ; 
 but I trust you will not object to listen to my 
 explanation already given, and the evident insult
 
 S98 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 I should offer to my friend and myself, if I were — 
 for which I am not the least inclined — to shift m^ 
 ground, and, as the hunters say, try back again. 
 No, Mrs, Anson ; from the moment I received 
 the cold refusal of Margaret, when she, as well 
 as yourself suspected me of falsehood in regard to 
 Mr. Houghton, and when you kindly — I mu»t 
 say most kindly, desired me to abandon all pur- 
 suit, I did so ; I obeyed your orders to the 
 very letter, — I struck her out from my heart ; I 
 allowed her no longer to occupy a thought, and 
 I felt rising within me an attachment for Julia ; 
 I nourished it, — it grew, it blossomed ; it was 
 offered and accepted — my hand and my fortune 
 are hers. The folly of calling a woman of seven- 
 teen a child — an infant, is too glaring, and I 
 know you only did it in order to give me time to 
 make this explanation. No power on earth could 
 ever draw me back to Margaret : my love is 
 Julia^^s, and to her, whatever may be your present 
 intention, / intend to devote myself " 
 
 " And Margaret ?"" interrupted Mrs. Anson. 
 
 " — Will not feel the slightest emotion of bruised 
 affection, since that could not have grown since
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 299 
 
 my return ; for I have cautiously devoted my- 
 self to Julia. I hope she explained to you the 
 nature of our conversation — in fact, the offer of 
 my hand, and her acceptance ?'"' 
 
 *' She has," replied Mrs. Anson, " and I chid 
 her for her folly ; but I see — '** and here Mrs. 
 Anson took me by the hand and continued smil- 
 ing — " the gipsy will be right, and I need not 
 oppose." 
 
 " Then that is settled, and I am to be your 
 son," replied Douglass ; " and here I offer my 
 first duty to my parent." And as he kissed her 
 face, he heard the door open ; and before he had 
 unwound his affectionate arms, the Rev. Mr. 
 Marshall was there, gaping like an alligator catch- 
 ing flies. 
 
 " Ah, that indeed," he began, " I did not 
 expect, or I would not have interrupted such 
 amiable weakness ,•" and he glanced a look at 
 Mrs. Anson which called up her blushes and re- 
 called her youth and beauty. 
 
 " It shall be no secret to you, Mr. Mar- 
 shall " 
 
 *' Oh, none at all," said the clergyman, " for 
 I saw it."
 
 SOO WALSINGHAM, 
 
 « No, no ! " 
 
 *' Ah, but I say, yes, yes ! and, as the chancel- 
 lor said, / soy, yes.'''' 
 
 " Nonsense ! Mr. Marshall." 
 
 " So I think, madam." 
 
 " I tell you, he only gave n>e that kiss—" 
 
 " I 'm not so sure of that, madam." 
 
 *' *— As an offering '''' 
 
 « No doubt of it." 
 
 <« —Which any man in his situation " 
 
 " Most certainly." 
 
 " —Had a right to do." 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! for he is to be my son-in- 
 law." 
 
 Mr. MarshalFs face puckered up to its usual 
 goodness, and taking Douglass by the hand, said, 
 " I congratulate you on your choice, and Margaret 
 on her good fortune." 
 
 Before they could clear up the mystery, Mar- 
 garet entered, followed by Charles. " 1 congra- 
 tulate you, my dear Margaret, with all my heart 
 and soul," said this worthy rector : " you could not 
 have made a more excellent choice, or hav^ chosen
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 301 
 
 one who, to judge both from his liberality and 
 his candour, is likely to make you a good and 
 an affectionate husband." (Mrs. Anson had been 
 pulling away at the reverend's coat-tail during the 
 whole of this.) " Your mother wanted to tell you 
 herself; but I am before her in the good work, 
 and I congratulate you both, only requesting that 
 I may finish what I have begun." So saying, he 
 turned round, and without regarding who it was, 
 for he had not seen Stanhope enter, he took his 
 hand and placed it in Margaret''s. 
 
 " There," said he, as he turned round to Mrs. 
 Anson, "I have done it here, and will do it 
 at church : I have joined their hands, and made 
 them one by promise. I hardly know how, Mr. 
 Douglass, to thank j/ow," (he said this so marked 
 that it confirmed Charles that no mistake could 
 be made,) '* for your princely munificence ; and 
 when you marry, many a heart will rejoice and 
 be made merry." 
 
 Mrs. Anson, when the rector turned to Dou- 
 glass, in order to avoid the eclaircissement, left 
 the room ; and both Margaret and Charles were 
 fully convinced that a change had come over the 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 302 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 spirit of the walk ; Charles believing that Robert 
 had effected it ; and Margaret, giving way to her 
 mother's choice, for she had none of her own, 
 blushed slightly, and sat down near the piano. 
 
 Robert was quite aware of the consequence of 
 the discovery ; and as the only method of ren- 
 dering it less painful to Charles, he proposed to 
 withdraw and return home. But Stanhope was 
 in no mood to accept the offer : he, on the con- 
 trary, drew his chair close to Margaret's, and 
 began some of those gentle, soft speeches to Mar- 
 garet, whose hand he took, and which was not 
 withdrawn. We are quite aware that our de- 
 scription of this lady may appear a little out of 
 nature ; but, as B}Ton says, " truth is much 
 stranger than fiction.'' So in this case it is evi- 
 dent : Margaret lives at this moment apparently 
 the gayest of the gay, and certainly one of the 
 loveliest of creation. 
 
 " That is all as it should be, Mr. Douglass," 
 said the rector : " ' love me, love my dog.' I see 
 Margaret admires your handsome friend ; and you 
 have such confidence in her, that you are not 
 jealous."
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. 803 
 
 " Not I, sir, I assure you," was the reply. 
 " Charles may love Margaret as much as he 
 likes, Margaret may return the compliment, with- 
 out causing any jealousy in my breast ; but, sir, 
 one word;" and taking the rector into a corner, 
 he whispered to him the whole state of the case, 
 and urged him to support Charles's cause. " He 
 is," Robert continued, " a most excellent man, 
 although rather deficient in that which is by 
 worldly people more considered than talent, tem- 
 per, or merit." 
 
 " Then, sir, yon are to marry Julia, after hav- 
 ing proposed to Margaret ?" 
 
 " Just so ; and here she is, blushing and look- 
 ing ashamed to meet the man who is to unite us. 
 My own, my beautiful Julia ! this is kind, after 
 your fatigue, to solace me by your presence. 
 Come and explain our mutual histories to Mr. 
 Marshall, whilst I have Charles brought to book 
 by Mrs. Anson, for I vow that match shall not 
 go off for a few pounds." 
 
 " You have drawn a prize, Julia," said Mr. 
 Marshall, " and let me counsel you how to keep 
 him firmly, unalterably yours. This is a match I 
 shall be proud to join ; for if the temper of the
 
 S04 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 woman and the character of the man would war- 
 rant a prophecy of felicity, my little Julia and my 
 generous Robert are the most likely people to 
 find it." 
 
 '' Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Anson as she ad- 
 dressed Charles, " I cannot give my consent to 
 this hasty marriage. You say Margaret has con- 
 sented : if so, it must be under the mistake occa- 
 sioned by Mr. Marshall. But in saying that I 
 do not, cannot consent, understand me as convey- 
 ing no slight upon yourself or your family. A 
 parent"'s duty is her daughter's welfare ; and cer- 
 tainly that would not be much enhanced by an 
 alliance with one of your slender fortune. I do 
 not say this as a rebuke, but as a duty, Mr. Stan- 
 hope." 
 
 " May I ask," said Charles with a look of 
 some earnestness, " what Mrs. Anson would 
 consider a sufficient fortune to be possessed by 
 him who in return is to possess such a trea- 
 sure .'^" 
 
 " T am not usurious in my demands," replied 
 Mrs. Anson, " but I never will consent to Mar- 
 garet*'s marriage without the man of her choice
 
 THE RUINED GAMESTER. -SOo 
 
 and mine can settle at least 10,000/. Then I 
 should feel convinced that nothing short of a 
 national bankruptcy could reduce them to actual 
 poverty." 
 
 " Your objection then, madam, is to be over- 
 come if I could settle 10,000/. ?" said Charles, 
 as he fixed his eyes full upon those of Mrs. 
 Anson. 
 
 " Certainly," was her reply : " and if you 
 could settle that, or even 8,000/., so much do 
 I esteem you and admire your character, that I 
 would instantly join your hands." 
 
 " Then, madam, allow me to say, that I here 
 pledge myself to settle 15,000/. ; and I call 
 Robert in to stand my security. He knows me 
 incapable of a falsehood, and he will hear with 
 pleasure, that my sister, on her being placed in 
 possession of her fortune, did, with her husband'^s 
 consent, present me with 20,000/. This I was 
 resolved to keep a secret, to be beloved for my 
 own, and not for my money's sake. So Mar- 
 garet is mine, and we are to have a double wed- 
 ding." 
 
 Robert was called, and stood security for 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 806 WALSINGHAM, 
 
 Charles, — indeed, he had made his mind up to 
 have advanced a few thousands rather than this 
 match should have been off; the rector stood 
 witness to the agreement ; and thus the lowering 
 clouds of the evening were all dispelled. Charles 
 ran to his beloved Margaret, whose cold manner 
 would have converted another to an icicle ; but 
 Charles believed it " prudent restraint," " maiden 
 modesty," and half a score of other fine expres- 
 sions and sentiments, which any but a lover 
 might have seen and have known to be false. 
 
 O that the blessing of Marshall had been 
 sanctified and made holy ! At that moment no 
 mortals had fairer views of terrestrial enjoyment ; 
 no one would have prayed for a prospect more 
 brilliant than that of Douglass. But the clearest 
 mom may by noon be overcast ; and before the 
 clouds of night close over the grave of day, the 
 torrent may have fallen, — the tempest may have 
 burst. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 iondon: printed by samuel bentlev, 
 Doiset street, Fleet Street.