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 or ILLINOIS 
 
 Op3n 
 
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 NEW TALES 
 
 BVr 
 
 MRS. OPIE.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 20.10 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 ». 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/newtalesinfourvo01opie
 
 NEW TALES. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. OPIE. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 Men pleas'd theirselves, think others \n\\ delight 
 In such like circumstance, with such like sport- 
 Their copious stories oftentimes begun 
 End without audience, and are never done. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 iLontion -. 
 
 PRINTED FOFl 
 
 LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1818.
 
 Printed hy R. and A. Taylor, Shoe Lane,
 
 
 NEW TALES. 
 
 MRS. ARLINGTON: 
 
 OR, 
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 
 
 lo whom does that house belong?" 
 ^ said Mrs. Derville to a countryman pass- 
 ^ ing by, as she was returning from Lon- 
 I don to her home in a distant county, ac- 
 £companied by her daughter Jane a girl 
 £ of eighteen, Mary Ann a child eight years 
 I old, and Lionel Derville her son, a youth 
 gjust turned of twenty. 
 I*' " That house belongs to one Madam 
 Arlington," replied the man, -and all 
 -pthat land as far as you can see, and those 
 
 ? VOL. I. B
 
 ^ MRS. ARLINGTON; OK, 
 
 woods yonder going down almost to the 
 sea shore." 
 
 "Wliat a heautiful place!" exclaimed 
 
 Jane. 
 
 " And it seems more beautiful the 
 nearer we approach to it," observed her 
 mother. 
 
 *'Look, mamma! look!" cried httle 
 Mary Ann, '' what a fine garden there is 
 under those windows ! I smell the flowers 
 even here." 
 
 " How I should like to live there!" ob- 
 served Lionel. 
 
 ** What an enviable woman Mrs. Ar- 
 lington must be!" returned his mother 
 with a sigh. 
 
 '' Enviable indeed !" echoed her chil- 
 dren as the road wound round this earthly 
 paradise, and at every fresh view seemed 
 to exhibit new beauties. It was indeed 
 a lovely spot. The house, large even to 
 magnificence, stood on a terrace midway 
 . up a very lofty and richly wooded hill.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.- 5 
 
 behind which, from a hill opposite, the 
 ocean was seen at no great distance, and 
 it formed the grand and interesting view 
 from the back part of the mansion. 
 
 The front, on the contrary, looked upoa 
 a soft and peaceful scene. At the bot- 
 tom of the terrace a clear and gentle river 
 flowed through a verdant lawn, which was 
 skirted by a rich shrubbery ; along eithtir 
 side of the house a gay and fragrant parr 
 terre attracted the eye by its brilliancy, 
 and gratified the senses by its sweets, 
 while hothouses, greenhouses, and other 
 buildings constructed so as to ornament 
 the grounds by their architectural beauty, 
 spoke at once the taste and the opulence 
 of the lady of the mansion. 
 
 " \V]:iat happiness it must be to live 
 there!" ever and anon broke from the lips 
 of the travellers. 
 
 "It must, indeed! and I really envy 
 Mrs. Arlington," said the thoughtful 
 Mi's. Derville as she gave a last look to 
 b2
 
 4 MR'i. AilLINGTON; OK, 
 
 the splendid domain; and sunk into si- 
 lence. 
 
 The abode of Mrs. Arlington was in- 
 deed in size and grandeur a contrast to 
 that of Mrs. Derville; but in beauty of 
 situation and in real comfort the rectory 
 over which Mrs. Derville presided could 
 bear comparison with any abode whatever, 
 and till hitherto she had always thought so 
 herself. What had so changed her ideas 
 on thesubject ? A legacy, a journey to Lon- 
 don and a six- weeks residence there. 
 
 At the age of sixteen Mrs. Derville was 
 an admired beauty hi the country circle 
 in which she moved ; and her charms both 
 of person and mind, combined with the 
 respectability of her birth and the excel- 
 lence of her fortune, made an union with 
 her as desirable in point of prudence and 
 ambition as in taste. Amongst many 
 lovers she had two who were a complete 
 contrast to each other in worldly pre- 
 tensions; for one was infinitely her su-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. .> 
 
 perior in fortune, and the other as much 
 beneath her. The one had a mansion 
 ^nd estates equal to those of Mrs. Ar- 
 lington; to the other might be applied 
 the words of the old ballad, 
 
 *' Wisdom and worth were all he liafl ; " 
 and Anna Pointz could have added;, 
 
 " And they were all to me :" 
 
 for, consulting nothing but her heart, slie 
 gave herself and her wealth to JMr. Der- 
 ville, who had just entered the church; 
 and when he was old enough to take 
 priest's orders she presented him to a 
 living which Vv^as part of her fortune. 
 
 And every day convinced Mrs. Der- 
 ville of the wisdom of her choice, since 
 every day discovered some new virtue in 
 Derville, whenever he appeared in any 
 new situation. 
 
 To the fond husband succeeded the 
 affectionate father, and the exemplary 
 teacher to others of those holv precepts
 
 t> MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 by which his own hfe was fashioned; and 
 three lovely children had cemented still 
 more the tie of conjugal affection, when 
 a noble relation, who had been too proud 
 to notice Mrs. Derville during her life- 
 time, left her at her death a considerable 
 legacy in money, together with a share cf 
 her clothes, furniture, &c., of which share 
 she was to be allowed her choice. 
 
 It was therefore requisite for Mrs. Der- 
 ville to go to London ; and it ut.s with an 
 aching heart that Derville assured her he 
 could not accompany her, because he could 
 get no one to perform his parish duties 
 for him during an absence, probably, of 
 many weeks. 
 
 He had another reason for giving up 
 all idea of leaving home, which he ten- 
 derly and wisely concealed from his w ife ; 
 not only in order to spare her certain and 
 unnecessary anxiety, but to secure her own 
 and her children's safety. A low and in- 
 fectious fever had just broken out in the
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 7 
 
 village, and Derville knew that if his af- 
 fectionate wife was aware of the circum- 
 stance she would either insist on staying 
 to share his duties and his dangers, or she 
 would have gone to London and remained 
 there in a state of constant alarm concern- 
 ing him and the children whom she had 
 left behind. The necessity of a journey 
 to London therefore was rendered doubly 
 fortunate in Mr. Derville's eyes by this 
 alarming malady ; as, by prevailing on his 
 wife to take all her family with her, he 
 should place them all beyond the reach 
 of infection. 
 
 He consequently took every possible 
 precaution to keep the knowledge of the 
 fever from his wife ; and as it had only as 
 yet shown itself at the extremity of the pa- 
 rish, he succeeded in his attempt ; and he 
 contrived to prevent her and the children 
 from paying their accuatomed visits to the 
 Cottages of the poor^ on pretence that all 
 their time would be v/anted to prepare fojr
 
 8 MR;S. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 their journey, which ought, he said, ob 
 ^n'ery account to be undertaken immedi- 
 ately. It was not, however, without sensa- 
 tions of fond agony, which hefound it very 
 difficult to conceal, that Derviiie beheld 
 them thus^preparing for a separation which 
 might, he knew, be eternal in this world; 
 and when, after such struggles and such 
 tears as were likely to attend their first 
 parting, Derviiie saw the carriage drive 
 off which conveyed from his sight those 
 he tenderly loved, he experienced pangs 
 which nothing but the conviction that 
 lie was doing his duty could have en- 
 abled him to endure; for he Vvas con- 
 scious that in his necessary attendance on 
 ;the sick he might imbibe tlie contagion 
 and sink under its power, *'And then," said 
 he, clasping his hands in agony, '' I shall 
 never see those dear ones again I" 
 
 But there is no trial which a firm re- 
 liance on the only support that cannot be 
 ^aken away will not teach any one to bear
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 
 
 and even to triumph over. '' And my 
 wife, my children will he spared, and 
 saved by this journey," he exclaimed ; 
 "there is comfort in thai assurance:" 
 though ever and anon he could not but 
 recollect that on this journey, which he 
 had so eagerly welcom.ed, dangers miglit 
 attend, though of a dr^crent nature^ as 
 great as those from which he had success- 
 fully endeavoured to guard them. 
 
 The travellers reached the metropoli*^ 
 in safety on the third day at noon ; and 
 as they had never left home before, ex- 
 cept to go to a watering-place in tlie 
 neighbourhood, the eternal bustle and 
 crowding in the streets of London, which 
 they entered at the city end, had their usual 
 effect on being entered the first time: 
 and while Mrs. Derville, her son, and 
 elder daughter, beheld every thing in a 
 sort of silent wonder, the little girl of 
 eight years old was in one constant ex- 
 b5
 
 10 MRS. ARLINGTON; OK, 
 
 clamation of childish delight. A lodging 
 had been procured for them by the soli- 
 citor, who was the executor of Lady Ann 
 Pointz, the lady by whose will Mrs. Der- 
 ville was so much benefited ; and it was 
 taken in the neighbourhood of Caven- 
 dish-square, near his own house, as, 
 though his office was in the city, he re- 
 sided in Edward-street. 
 
 Nothing material occurred on the first 
 or second day of their arrival, as Mrs. 
 Derville was not quite well after her jour- 
 ney, and had nothing so much at heart 
 as to write an account of her feelings and 
 those of her children, on the road and on 
 beholding London, to the beloved being 
 whom she had left. And though she felt 
 that she did not come to the metropolis 
 to think only of her husband and to write 
 to him, still while finding herself wholly 
 amongst strangers, and alone in a crowd, 
 a feeling forlorn as well as fond impelled
 
 ALL rs ISOT GOLD THAT GLI'TTERS. 1 1 
 
 her to turn towards the home which she 
 bad quitted, and to seek comfort by re- 
 calling it and its master perpetually to 
 her view. 
 
 Happy was it for her peace that she did 
 not even suspect the danger to which that 
 beloved being was exposed. She was not 
 to go to the house of death and see the 
 treasures which awaited her there, till Lady 
 Lucy Donellan — who like herself was se- 
 cond-cousin to the deceased, and was to 
 have the half of the clothes and furni- 
 ture which she left — should be able to 
 accompany her, and she was then con- 
 fined to her house with a cold. Li the 
 mean while Mrs. Derville expected to be 
 able to furnish herself and children with 
 proper mourning before she saw that lady^ 
 But Lady Lucy Donellan was so eager to 
 see the things destined for her possession, 
 and also by calling on her co-partner in 
 the legacy to discover whether she could 
 not take advantage of her simplicity, that
 
 12 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 early on the third clay after their arrival, 
 and at the risk of her health, Lady Lucy 
 drove up to Mrs. Derville's door. 
 
 Lady Lucy had not, at that moment, 
 resolved what line of conduct to pursue : 
 she knew not yet whether she should awe 
 the country parson's wife, as she called her, 
 hy the repelling dignity of superior rank, 
 and thereby make her compliant to her 
 wishes ; or charm her into a desire to oblige 
 lier noble associate, by excessive and con- 
 descending graciousness. She concluded 
 that neither Mrs. Derville nor her grown- 
 up son and daughter were presentable at 
 her house : still she thought it would be 
 best to invite them to dinner, but ask only 
 some dependents to meet them, to whom 
 she should not be ashamed of showing at 
 her table a gawky awkward milk-maidish, 
 ill-dressed woman, and her still more 
 gawky and ill-favoured offspring. 
 
 Nor was this important point decided 
 in her mind, when she got out of the
 
 ALL LS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 13 
 
 carriage. Mrs. Derville, who sat in a 
 back room, did not hear the carriage 
 stop; and as the street door stood quite 
 open^ she did not discover that the foot- 
 man's loud knock was at her house ; nor 
 indeed could she well attend to any noise 
 at that moment^ as she was singing an Ita- 
 lian canon with Lionel and Jane, which 
 had been taught them by a lady whom they 
 had first met at a watering-place, and who 
 had since been a frequent guest at their 
 house. This lady, finding they had each 
 of them line voices and good ears, had 
 taken the trouble to impart to them 
 much of her own knowledge of singing, 
 and had taught them the rare accomplish- 
 ment of singing correctly in parts. 
 
 Therefore, as Lady Lucy set her foot on 
 the first step of the stairs it w^as arrested 
 by amazement, for she had heard too 
 much good music not to know that what 
 she now heard was sweet and in tune ; 
 and she began to think she had mistaken
 
 14 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 the door: but the footman, whom Mrs. 
 Derville had hn*ed for the time they staid 
 in town, assured her it was his ladies and 
 the young gentleman who w^ere singing ; 
 and with a respect for the country par- 
 son's family, which she never expected to 
 feel, she entered the room. 
 
 Mrs. Derville had too much simplicity 
 of character, if not dignity of mind, to 
 be embarrassed by a visit from a woman 
 of quality. She had never felt sufficient 
 respect for mere titles, to be flattered and 
 fluttered into awkwardness on receiving 
 an unexpected call from a noble guest ; 
 and to Lady Lucy's increased amazement, 
 Mrs. Derville and her daughter both 
 met her w4th as much ease, though with 
 a heightened bloom, as if she had been 
 only their equal. But her amazement 
 did not end there ; for if her ear had been 
 charmed with their voices, her eye was 
 equally so with their personal graces ; and 
 even before the first compliments were
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 15 
 
 over, and Lady Lucy was quietly seated 
 in her chair, she had convinced herself 
 that her new friends were not gnly j»?t- 
 sentahle at her parties, but a desirable 
 acqimition to them ; and as it was then 
 July, when something new was particu- 
 larly pn^cious, as the early wonders of 
 the season were ceasing to be wonderful 
 and to attract, Lady Lucy resolved that 
 Mrs. Derville (a beautiful country lady, 
 the near relation and legatee of Lady Ann 
 Pointz, with her lovely and accomplished 
 daughter and her handsome son, who 
 all sung like angels) should be the theme 
 of her praises for the next week, and 
 that at the end of it she would make a 
 party on purpose for them, and to intro- 
 duce them into the fine world. 
 
 For a time, indeed, the interests of 
 her party banished the recollection of the 
 interests of her avarice ; but the latter 
 passion soon returned, and she had now 
 at length determined to promote them
 
 16 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 by the arts of insinuation, not the power 
 of superiority : indeed, she soon saw that 
 the '^ country parsoiis wife " was not a 
 woman to be awed into any thing. Ac- 
 cordingly, she used every art of flattery 
 to please, and succeeded. Glee suc- 
 ceeded to glee, duet to duet ; and that 
 accomplishment which had before been 
 valued chiefly as it charmed a husband's 
 and father's ear, became, from Lady 
 Lucy's praises, only too precious to them 
 as a passport, according to her,^ into 
 circles which they never expected to 
 enter. The personal beauty of the group 
 was not forgotten : and though she could 
 not exclaim openly concerning the love- 
 liness of the elder part of the family, 
 — though Mrs. Derville, at thirty-seven, 
 looked like her daughter's elder sister, and 
 Jane Derville was very like her still beau- 
 tiful mother, — Lady Lucy could venture 
 to go into raptures concerning the beauty 
 of the little girl, and then declare she
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 17 
 
 was the very image of her mother and 
 her sister ; *' And indeed, so is your son^ 
 Mrs. Dervilie, except that his eyes are 
 dark, and his complexion ruddier, and 
 liis look and person manly''' Here was 
 language for the ears of unsophisticated 
 beings, who, though they knew that they 
 possessed personal beauty, had not learnt 
 to value themselves upon it : — but sweet 
 is the language of flattery ; and as they 
 were sincere themselves, they believed in 
 Lady Lucy's sincerity, and thought her 
 praise disinterested. Sincere it certainly 
 was ; and as Lady Lucy knew the effect 
 of new faces and pretty faces in the 
 London world, she anticipated so much 
 ccldt to her next ^^^oX petit souper from 
 the introduction of these novelties, that 
 her spirits becciine quite elevated ; and 
 she was so entertaining, that v/hen she 
 left them, the Dervilies were dehghted 
 to think they should see her again the 
 next day. The next day she did come,
 
 18 
 
 and took Mrs. Derville to a fashionable 
 milliner to bespeak her mourning, and 
 directed the young Derville to a fashion- 
 able tailor ; and then they proceeded 
 with the executor to look over the ward- 
 robe and furniture of the deceased. I 
 shall only add, that Lady Lucy obtained 
 all she wanted ; and, in return, she took 
 the Dervilles to her box at the Opera, 
 procured them a private box at both 
 houses two other evenings in the week; 
 — in short, they thought her the kindest 
 of human beings. And while Der\dlle 
 was, at the risk of his life, kneeling and 
 praying beside the bed of death, and 
 furnishing from his own stores the wine 
 and medicines necessary for the indigent, 
 the diseased and the dying, his lovely 
 wife's letters told of operas, concerts and 
 plays ; of praises from lords, of invitations 
 from ladies, and of singing with her 
 children before noble judges and rival 
 amateurs. Nor could he sometimes help
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 19 
 
 saying to himself — '* Have I not in my 
 blind wisdom exposed these dear-ones ta 
 greater danger than awaited them here! — 
 that moral contagion which is full of the 
 worst death." But then he recollected 
 that principles and good and pious ha- 
 bits are not lost in a moment ; and he 
 also remembered that they were only to 
 stay a month in London. 
 
 The end of that month was however 
 arrived; and Mrs. Derville, to please 
 herself as well as Jane and Lionel, was 
 just going to request leave to stay a week 
 longer in the metropolis, when Derville 
 wrote to desire that they would prolong 
 their stay to five weeks^ — a request with 
 which they were very glad to comply, 
 though Mrs. Derville experienced a feel- 
 ing somewhat approaching to mortifica- 
 tion, at her husband being desirous, un- 
 urged by her, to lengthen the term of 
 their separation. Little did she knpw 
 that this desire v/as only a new proof of
 
 20 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 his affection, as be was fearful that the 
 infection which he had providentially 
 escaped, might not be sufficiently over- 
 come to make their return as yet a mat- 
 ter of safety to themselves. However, 
 the mortification was but for a moment, 
 and the permission was a source of last- 
 ing satisfaction, as the week was to be 
 passed in a round of pleasant engage- 
 ments. It proved also as delightful in 
 reality as it had been in expectation ; and 
 there was only one of the family who 
 pined for the country, and did not think 
 London the most delightful place in the 
 world. That person was little Anna, 
 who went to bed Vv-lien the others went 
 to parties, and vv'ho thought the garden 
 in Cavendish- square a bad place to walk 
 in compared to Hiat at her own dear 
 liome ; and had it not been for the plea- 
 sure which tlie fine shops atibrded her, 
 and the sight of the carriages and the 
 crowd, the poor child would have been
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 21 
 
 miserable during a residence which gave 
 the rest of her family considerable enjoy, 
 nient. 
 
 The last two days of their permitted 
 stay at length arrived, and found them 
 as unwilling to go as ever; and maternal 
 ambition and maternal fondness, added 
 to the personal pleasure which Mrs. 
 Derville herself felt at seeing herself fol- 
 lowed and admired In the new world of 
 fashion, made her resolve to desire leave 
 to stay another week. 
 
 The truth was, that a nobleman of 
 very pleasing manners and exterior had 
 paid Jane the most marked attention ; and 
 his admiration of her was so evident, that, 
 as she found her daughter was strongly 
 prejudiced in his favour, she had Httle 
 doubt but that he meant to make hec an 
 offer of his hand; and that her beauty 
 and her voice would, in the usual phrase, 
 make her fortune, as they had done those 
 of other young women who were neither
 
 ^2 MRS. ARLINGTON ; 0-51, 
 
 SO well born nor so highly connected as 
 
 she was. 
 
 It is certain that Jane expected the 
 same thing; and the image of a young 
 curate in the vicinity of Lovelands, who 
 had her father s leave to gain her affec- 
 tions if he could, gradually became fainter 
 and fainter ; and the love which had made 
 some progress in her heart before the 
 London journey, was>ow every day re- 
 ceiving another and another check from 
 the power of ambition. She therefore 
 was very eager to remain longer in Lon- 
 don ; and her brother was equally so, from 
 the pride and the pleasure which he de- 
 rived from the great attention paid him 
 by a Sir Mordaunt Williams, a young 
 baronet, who, though they knew it not, 
 was well known on the turf, and remark- 
 able for his profligacy. Urged therefore 
 by their wishes and her own, IMrs. Der- 
 ville, though not without some feeling of 
 iremorseful tenderness and reluctance,
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 23 
 
 promised her children to write to their 
 father, and beg to stay to the beginning 
 of the second week in August. 
 
 The letter was written, but not sent, 
 when the carriage drove up that was to 
 convey them to an assembly at the house 
 of Lady Lucy Donellan, — and thither they 
 went. 
 
 As usual. Lord N. (the nobleman men- 
 tioned above) stationed himself at the side 
 of Jane ; and as he was a man of consi- 
 derable talents, and of much weight in 
 the circles of high life as well as in the 
 senate, Lady Lucy was flattered to have 
 him at her parties, and was pleased to 
 fdid the rural beauty had power to attract 
 him constantly to her house. 
 
 Young Derville too, as usual, found his 
 new friend in the gay group, who, hang- 
 ing on his arm, led the flattered youth 
 up and down the suite of rooms. 
 
 It was the first time the Dervilles had 
 seen Lady Lucy's elegant rooms thrown
 
 24 MRS. ARLI^GTON ; OK, 
 
 le 
 
 open en suite; and the beauty of tl 
 apartments, the brilliancy of the lights, 
 and the splendour of the dresses, made 
 this evening, in its commencement, the 
 most gratifying of the sort which she had 
 ever yet passed in London. 
 
 Mrs. Derville herself might have had 
 her constant cecisbeo if she had been will- 
 ing to sacrifice principle to vanity ; as she 
 was not only the object of admiration to 
 men whom she had never seen before, but 
 the lover whom in early life she had reject- 
 ed for the sake of love and Derville, was fre- 
 quently in her society, and took eveiT 
 opportunity of convincing her that in 
 Mrs. Derville he had not forgotten the 
 beautiful Anne Pointz; and as he was 
 now elevated to the dignity of the peer- 
 age, his attentions might naturally be 
 supposed by himself to be flattering to 
 her pride, however repugnant it was to 
 her principles to receive them. 
 
 But not even gratitude for his pre-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 25 
 
 tended persevering attachment, nor the 
 whispers of vanity, had power to gain him 
 more than a smile of civility from the object 
 of his early love. Still there were times 
 when she wished that her lot had been 
 cast in higher scenes than those in which 
 she moved at home, and she would 
 have hailed with joy her husband's eleva- 
 tion in the church. One must forgive 
 her this weakness for the sake of her 
 well-principled rejection of her noble 
 lover's renewal of attention, especially as 
 that attention was so respectful, that a 
 woman less rigidly correct might have 
 thought herself justified in receiving it, 
 as she might have said to herself *' It 
 can mean no harm." 
 
 But to return to this evening at Lady 
 Lucy's. Mrs. Derville was standing near 
 her daughter, when the ever-attentive 
 Lord N. proposed to her and another 
 young lady to go down into the refresh- 
 ment-room; and they had nearly reached 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 the door before Mrs. Derville was aware 
 of their departure. She, however, felt 
 it her duty as a mother to follow them, 
 but the crowd at the door was so great 
 that she was detained some minutes ; and 
 in the mean while her parental vanity was 
 gratified, by seeing her truly handsome son 
 leaning on the arm of one of the most 
 admired young men in high life. 
 
 But though Lady Lucy had declared that 
 he was reckoned the handsomest young 
 man of the day, Mrs. Derville could not 
 be blind to the superiority of Lionel in 
 personal beauty, though he v*^as his in- 
 ferior in elegance and air, as the bloom 
 of youth unimpaired by excess was an 
 Lionel's cheek, and the open expression of 
 a heart unconscious of evil beamed on his 
 manly countenance. 
 
 At this moment an elderly man near 
 her said to the gentleman next him, 
 " Who is that new victim whom SirlMor- 
 daunt has seized upon ?''
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 27 
 
 "Victim ! What do you mean, Sir Tho- 
 mas r 
 
 '^ I mean that it is destruction to any 
 young man to be taken notice of and 
 flattered by Sir Mordaunt; for he will 
 inevitably teach him his own vices, and 
 lead him certainly to the gaming-table." 
 
 ** I fear you are right," was the an- 
 swer. 
 
 '^ I know I am. But do tell me the 
 name of that poor youth ? He looks so 
 good, so innocent, at present, that I wish 
 he did not seem so pleased with his com- 
 panion." 
 
 '[ He is indeed quite a novice," said 
 the other, "• and the son of a lady just 
 come up from the country, who is intro- 
 duced by Lady Lucy Donellan." 
 
 " Poor woman!" cried the good-na- 
 tured observer. " Is there no one kind 
 enough to put her on her guard, and 
 tell her to prevent any further inti- 
 macy between her son and that dan- 
 c 2
 
 28 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 gerous young man ? From Lady Lucy 
 I knoiv such disinterested kindness is 
 not to be expected." 
 
 Though this fortunate conversation had 
 passed in a low voice, Mrs. Derville had 
 heard it all^ and with feehngs not difficult 
 to be imagined : but the last sentence 
 nearly overpou'ered her ; and she could 
 scarcely help turning round and saying, 
 urged by an impulse of grateful emotion, 
 " The poor woman is put on her guard 
 now, and God bless you, sir ! " But she had 
 power to restrain herself from speaking, 
 though not from turning round ; and as 
 she looked on the w^arning speaker with 
 a glistening eye and a glowing cheek, and 
 with an expression of gratitude which 
 could not be mistaken, he suspected who 
 she was, and on inquiiy found that he 
 was right. At first he felt glad at hav- 
 ing been unintentionally the means of 
 enabling a parent to save her child from 
 destruction : but he was a man of the
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 29 
 
 world ; and being afraid, by Mrs. Derville*s 
 manner, that she had a great mind to in- 
 troduce herself to him and make some in- 
 quiries concerning Sir Mordaunt, which he 
 might get into a difficulty by answering^ 
 he took care to remove from her sight as 
 fast as possible; especially as a friend of 
 his had just addressed him, in Mrs. Der- 
 ville's hearing, by the name of Sir Tho- 
 mas Waring. It was time then for him 
 to disappear, as Mrs. Derville already 
 knew more than he liked, in knowing that 
 her authority for telling her son — as he 
 concluded she would do — that his elegant 
 friend was a dangerous and unprincipled 
 man, was Sir Thomas Waring. ** And 
 really," thought he, " it would be very 
 silly in me to embroil myself with Sir 
 Mordaunt and his family for the sake of 
 persons of whom I know nothing ; and 
 after all it is no business of miner So 
 felt, so reasoned the man of the world; 
 and he was seen no more that evening.
 
 30 MRS. ARLINGTOX ; OR, 
 
 In the mean while Mrs. Derviile, urged 
 on by the crowd, reached the refreshment- 
 room on the ground-floor, and saw Jane 
 listening delightedly to the conversation 
 of the agreeable Lord N. But being 
 satisfied by having her daughter in her 
 sight, she did not force herself through 
 the crowd to join her, as she saw a vacant 
 place at the table of refreshments; and 
 having asked for a glass of ice, she consi- 
 dered while eating it, what would be the 
 best manner of withdrawing her son from 
 the intimacy to which, she doubted not, 
 a stop must be immediately put. While 
 her thoughts were thus employed, her 
 back was turned to two ladies, who like 
 herself were eating ice; and she heard one 
 of them say to the other, "There, don't 
 you see.^ there is Lord N. as usual flirting 
 away with that pretty girl." 
 
 *' Yes, he is always with her now — who 
 is she .^" 
 
 " She is the daughter of a Mrs. Der-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 31 
 
 ville, a relation and legatee of Lady Anne 
 Pointz; but I do not see her in the room 
 to -night." 
 
 "That is strange! It is very impro- 
 per indeed in her to let her daughter go 
 about thus without her." 
 
 '' Oh ! but she is an ignorant country 
 lady, and cannot be supposed to think 
 that any, harm can come from the inti- 
 macy of a girl in her teens with a married 
 man of fifty. But you and I, who know 
 Lord N., also know that we could not trust 
 the affections of a daughter of ours with 
 a more dangerous man." 
 
 Never was surprise greater than that of 
 Mrs. Derville. Lord N. a married man ! It 
 could not be! And the ladies having called 
 for more ice, she still lingered near them 
 in hopes th^y would continue their conver- 
 sation; and they resumed it thus: ''Look, 
 look! how the poor girl blushes, and how 
 pleased she seems! Well, lam glad it is 
 not my daughter, that's all ! Really, if
 
 32 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 Lord N. were a single man, I should think 
 he was absolutely caught now; but mar- 
 ried he is, and will remain so, I can tell him ; 
 for I saw Lady N. yesterday, looking as 
 well and as young as when they parted 
 twenty years ago." 
 
 '* Do not tell him so," replied the other, 
 ** if you mean to be in favour with him, 
 and wish him to come to your next party." 
 And then without seeing Mrs. Derville 
 they left the room. Wonder, resentment, 
 and disappointment now triumphed alter- 
 nately in the mind of Mrs. Derville: but 
 resentment was at length the predominant 
 feeling; for, as Lord N. was married, what 
 could his attentions to her daughter mean ? 
 — and how unkind, to say the least, was it 
 in Lady Lucy Donellan, she thought, not 
 to tell her that Lord N. was a married man ! 
 " Yet I must own," said she mentally, 
 **Lady Lucy was not likely to suppose 
 I could be so — so foolish as to expect a 
 peer would marry my daughter !"
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 33 
 
 Thus humbled, offended, mortified^ and 
 self-condemned, she paused a moment 
 longer at the table to recover herself; 
 and then making her way 'up to her daugh- 
 ter, she put her arm in hers, and begged 
 a gentleman whom she knew to call up 
 her carriage. He did so, and Lord N. 
 was reluctantly forced to follow with Jane. 
 When she was in the carriage, Mrs. Der- 
 ville told the gentleman who had called it 
 up, that she could not go away without her 
 son, and she begged him to go in search 
 of him. He having met him in the hall, 
 and brought him, much against his will, to 
 the safe protection of his mother, they 
 drove off; while with a heart at once agi- 
 tated yet relieved, oppressed yet grateful, 
 Mrs. Derville sat in perturbed silence by 
 her equally silent children. Her night was 
 nearly a sleepless one; but it was also one 
 of wide decision, for she resolved to leave 
 London the day after the next, especially 
 as Lionel that night had asked her permis- 
 c 5
 
 34 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 sion to go with Sir Mordaunt to some fa- 
 shionable races, and to stay with him a 
 night or tw© at his hunting-box in the 
 neighbourhood ; to which request she had 
 given a decided negative, which her son 
 had received with evident displeasure. 
 
 Mrs. Derville rose early, and imme- 
 diately sent a note to Mr. Farrell her so- 
 licitor, to beg to see him in his way to 
 the City that morning; and he came be- 
 fore Jane and Lionel were down. Mrs. 
 Derville immediately asked him wTiether 
 he knew any thing of Sir Mordaunt Wil- 
 liams : and he gave her such an account 
 of him as fully justified Sir Thomas Wa- 
 ring's fears for her son, and determined 
 her to lose no time in removing him from 
 so pernicious an associate. 
 
 She did not think it necessary to ask 
 any questions relative to Lord N. ; the 
 fact spoke for itself: — Lord N. was a mar- 
 ried man, and yet he had paid her daugh- 
 ter as marked attentions as if he had been
 
 AtL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 35 
 
 at liberty to pay his serious addresses to 
 her ! 
 
 - When Jane and Lionel made their ap- 
 pearance the latter looked grave, and as 
 if he had a request to urge but had not 
 sufficient courage. Mrs. Derville guessed 
 that it was a renewal of the petition to 
 accompany Sir Mordaunt ; and she re- 
 solved to put a stop to his hopes by telling 
 him she had burnt the letter to his father 
 which she had written to ask leave to stay 
 longer, and that she was positively deter- 
 mined to leave London the next day, "O, 
 I am so glad, mamma ! " exclaimed little 
 Mary Ann, "so glad! Then I shall see dear 
 papa again ! and Nelly, and my rabbits ! " 
 But Mary Ann was the only glad per- 
 son present; — her brother and sister were 
 distressed for themselves, and her mother 
 for them. She feared that her daughter's 
 affections were a little entangled by Lord 
 N's assiduities, from her evident emotion;
 
 36 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 and she also feared that Sir Mordaunt 
 had already inspired her son with a taste 
 for fashionable life^ which might unfit him 
 for his studies at college. 
 
 But it was necessary for their good that 
 she should let them know all she had 
 learnt, and from the best authority, rela- 
 tive to the attentive admirer of the one 
 and the flattering friend of the other. And 
 while her maternal heart bled at the idea 
 of the pain which she was going to inflict 
 on those she loved, she could not help re- 
 proaching herself for having sufi'ered her 
 maternal ambition to urge her to tolerate 
 an intimacy between her daughter and 
 any man of whom she knew nothing but 
 his agreeable manners and high rank. 
 But though she did not presume to blame 
 Lady Lucy for not having told her that Lord 
 N. was married, as that lady could not 
 have foreseen how far her vanity as a mo- 
 ther would carry her ill-founded hopes ;
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 37 
 
 she did blame her for not having told her 
 that Sir Mordaunt was a dangerous com- 
 panion for her son. 
 
 *' Yes, my sweet child," said Mrs. Der- 
 ville after a pause, in answer to Mary- 
 Ann's exclamation ; ^' yes, we shall see 
 dear papa very soon now; and I fear, Mary 
 Ann^ that you are the only one of us that 
 can look at him without some self-re- 
 proach, for you are the only one that has 
 always been willing and anxious to return 
 to him. I have been a truant to him, but 
 I am so no longer ; for I am sick of the 
 depravity and the hollowness of the chil- 
 dren of this fashionable world, and I long 
 to be restored to my own innocent home 
 and your dear father." 
 
 " Sick of London ! sick of this de- 
 lightful place!" exclaimed both Lionel 
 and Jane at once: "O dear mother! how 
 can you talk so ? — And when do you mean 
 to go.?" 
 
 ** To-morrow."
 
 38 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 ^^ Tomorrow! Oh, no! i\oi to-niom^oiv , 
 Pray, dear mother, do stay till next week." 
 
 ** Impossible." 
 
 "What will Lady Lucy say.^" said 
 Jane. 
 
 ' * And what will Lord N . say, Jane ?'' said 
 Lionel, looking at his sister with a mean- 
 ing smile. 
 
 '' And what will your new friend Sir 
 Mordaunt say, whom you make such a 
 fuss about .^" replied Jane, blushing as she 
 spoke. 
 
 '^ Mary Ann, my dear," said Mrs. Der- 
 ville, ^^go into the next room, shut your- 
 self in, and try to compose a pretty let- 
 ter to dear papa to tell him we are com- 
 ing, and how glad you are ! " And Mary 
 Ann, delighted at the commission, gladly 
 obeyed, leaving her mother at liberty to 
 make a communication which might have 
 effects that she did not wish her to wit- 
 ness. 
 
 " What Sir Mordaunt may say, and
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 39 
 
 what Lord N. and even Lady Lucy may 
 say, is of no importance to us. The 
 sooner you break off acquaintance with 
 Sir Mordaunt the better for you, dear 
 Lionel. And when I reflect on the marked 
 attention Lord N. pays you, Jane, I am 
 convinced that it is time you should se- 
 parate." 
 
 Both the brother and sister faltered out 
 ^' What do you mean, dear mother .^" and 
 in such evident consternation that Mrs. 
 Derville's voice faltered as she replied, and 
 told Lionel all she had heard, and hoiv she 
 had heard it, of \\\'^ friend ^\\: Mordaunt. 
 The young man listened, and fain would 
 have disbelieved what he heard ; but his 
 memory furnished him with so many in- 
 stances of lax morality in the conversa- 
 tion of his seducing companion, and of 
 his love for play, that he was induced to 
 own at last that the acquaintance so flat- 
 tering to his vanity might have been fatal 
 to his peace; and silently, but not very
 
 40 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 unwillingly, he promised to prepare for 
 their departure to-morrow. 
 
 **But why," said he at length, seeing 
 that Jane looked disturbed at what her 
 mother had said of Lord N., '^ why do 
 you disapprove Lord N's attentions to 
 Jane, and take her away before she has 
 completed her conquest, and the peer is 
 her own ?" 
 
 " Nonsense ! " cried Jane pleased, 
 though pouting as she said it. 
 
 *' Nonsense indeed,'' replied Mrs: Der- 
 ville, ** as Lord N. is already a married 
 man, though he is separated from his 
 wife." 
 
 " A married man ! " cried the indignant 
 Lionel, starting from his seat, while Jane 
 looked pale and motionless as a statue, 
 *^a married man! and pay such attention 
 to my sister ? Then he is a villain ! — But 
 it caiit be, you must be misinformed. " 
 
 " Impossible. My informant was a lady 
 ^ho saw Lady N. yesterday morning."
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 41 
 
 — She then related word for word what 
 she had overheard in the refreshment- 
 room. 
 
 " Oh ! what shall I do .'^"exclaimed Jane 
 in great emotion ; " Lord N. is coming 
 hither this morning. I can t see him, in- 
 deed I cannot — A married man, and be so 
 very particular in his attention to me ! " 
 Here a burst of tears relieved her agitated 
 spirits, which the soothing kindness of 
 her mother and her brother soon quieted 
 again ; though Lionel^ however, nearly 
 overset her again, by declaring that if he 
 saw Lord N.he must affront him. But as 
 his mother insisted that he should leave 
 the room as soon as ever he heard him 
 announced, to avoid aught of unplea- 
 sant explanation, Jane became composed 
 again: and at length Mrs. Derville suc- 
 ceeded in convincing her that she ought 
 to see Lord N., and show him by the re- 
 serve of her manner, that if he flattered 
 himself that his attentions had made an
 
 42 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 impression on her heart, his vanity had 
 deceived him ; but that, having consider- 
 ed him as a single man, she had not 
 scrupled to admit of attentions which she 
 should now think it unprincipled in her to 
 receive. ''I conclude, my child," she added, 
 *' that whatever impression his agreeable 
 manners have made on you, that impres- 
 sion must have been instantly effaced by 
 the conviction of his unworthiness ; — and 
 a married man who tries to win the af- 
 fections of an innocent girl, must be a 
 being wholly devoid of principle." 
 
 "True, very true, — still I had thought, 
 I had hoped " 
 
 ** Yes,"cried Lionel, "the idea of deck- 
 ing that beauteous brow with a coronet 
 made thee forget much thou should'st 
 have remembered, Jane. Naughty girl ! 
 to forget that if you v/ore a coronet, poor 
 Eustace would wear the willow ; aye, and 
 that the willow perhaps would have waved 
 over his early grave."
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 43 
 
 ** Nonsense!" again exclaimed Jane, 
 but in a different tone to that in which 
 she spoke before ; for the remembrance of 
 true and virtuous love was sweet to her 
 heart, even though it awakened a feeling 
 of self-reproach, when she recollected how 
 weakly that heart had beaten at hearing 
 flatteries and professions which now she 
 must learn to consider as the breathings 
 of degrading admiration. Mrs. Derville 
 had yet another piece of information to 
 give — and that was the age of Lord N. 
 And when her astonished auditors heard 
 it, Lionel was so amused at the idea of 
 his sister, a girl of eighteen, being doom- 
 ed to pine in hopeless love for a youth up- 
 wards of fifty, that Jane could not help 
 joining in the laugh ; and she declared 
 that were Lord N. to be able to offer 
 her his hand she should positively reject 
 it. Thus far all was well. And the mo- 
 ther's heart being lightened of its princi- 
 pal cares by the way in which her chil-
 
 44 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 dren had received what she had been forced 
 to impart to them, she proceeded with 
 cheerful alacrity to prepare every thing 
 for her journey. 
 
 During the course of the morning 
 Lord N. came, and Mrs. Derville was 
 gratified to see with what propriety of 
 feeling and manner Jane received him. 
 Lord N. immediately saw that some- 
 thing had effected a change in the feel- 
 ings both of the mother and the daugh- 
 ter towards him, — and he suspected the 
 truth, as he had soon discovered that they 
 were strangers to his real situation, which 
 even those who knew of it frequently for- 
 got, and he also saw that his attentions 
 had awakened ambitious hopes in the 
 hearts of both : he therefore thought him- 
 self justified in trifling with the presump- 
 tuous hopes of these handsome nobodies, 
 and he knew Lady Lucy Donellan's self- 
 ishness too well to fear that she would dis- 
 cover what he wished to conceal; for, so as
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 45 
 
 she could but attract him to her house, 
 he well knew she would not be delicate 
 as to the means. 
 
 While he was thus revolving in his 
 mind who could have told the rural beau- 
 ties^ as they were called, that he was a 
 married man — and had convinced himself 
 that they knew it — he resolved not only to 
 make a virtue of necessity, and disclose 
 himself what could be concealed no longer, 
 but to mortify at the same time that pride 
 which now was, on principle, offending 
 his. *^ And so you are going away to- 
 morrow.^" said he in a tone of regret: *^ I 
 am very sorry to hear it ; — and the more 
 so, as I have not been able hitherto to 
 request the honour of seeing you and 
 hearing you at my villa — charming rooms 
 for music, I assure you ; and I have a 
 very fine instrument there. My wife. 
 Lady N., is an excellent musician^ and 
 she chose it ; and when we separated, I
 
 46 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 insisted on keeping it. You have heard, 
 probably, of my unfortunate situation ?'' 
 
 Jane was too angry to answer ; but 
 Mrs. Derville replied, that she was aware 
 now that he was married, and separated 
 from his lady; but she had not heard of it 
 till the night before : "And then," she add- 
 ed, *'^ as your lordship's manners are en- 
 tirely those of a young (laying an em- 
 phasis on that word) and disengaged 
 man, I could not believe you were mar- 
 ried, and had been so for near thirty years, 
 without great difficulty." 
 
 He coloured violently at this implied 
 sarcasm, and the more so as he thought 
 he saw a sarcastic smile on the lip of 
 Jane; and piqued in his turn, he observed 
 that he was to be sure quite a boy when 
 he married, and far too young to judge of 
 any thing but external recommendations 
 in the choice which he made ; — that 
 Lady N. was young, beautiful, and high-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 4/ 
 
 born, for she was a duke's daughter ; and 
 as noble birth was a quaUfication abso- 
 lutely necessary, in his opinion, in the 
 woman whom he married, he was happy to 
 find it united to beauty and accomplish- 
 ments in the Dukeof B's heiress; and that 
 these requisites had so blinded him to the 
 defects in LadyN's temper^, that when they 
 were married, his surprise equalled his 
 misery. 
 
 Both the ladies understood the revenge 
 intended in this speech, and wisely re- 
 solved to let it pass without an answer. 
 Mrs. Derville therefore changed the sub- 
 ject ; and saw, to her great satisfaction, 
 that Jane bore her part as usual in the con- 
 versation. But Lord N. felt so provoked, 
 and perhaps so disappointed, spite of his 
 assumed composure, that as soon as Mr. 
 Farrell was announced, he arose and took 
 his leave in a very hurried manner. 
 
 Mr. Farrell did not stay long; and he 
 was scarcely gone, after having warmly
 
 48 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 approved of Mrs. Derville's projected de- 
 parture, when a very different visitor ar- 
 rived^ and one who did not^ UkeMr.Far- 
 rell, approve their departure^ but who 
 came to prevent it if possible, — for Lady 
 Lucy Donellan entered the room. 
 
 ^' Why, my dearest Mrs. Derville," she 
 exclaimed, seizing her hand, *'what is this 
 that I hear ? But I declared I could not 
 believe it till I heard it from your own lips. 
 I am told — but it is really incredible — 
 that you are going to run away from us 
 to-morrow morning ; — and here have I 
 been projecting such delightful plans for 
 you all next week, and such a sweet little 
 party at my own house to-morrow even- 
 ing, made o?? purpose for you, and to 
 present you to some charming persons 
 of high rank, the cleverest creatures in 
 the world, who are dying to make your 
 acquaintance ! " 
 
 " I am much indebted to you, Lady 
 Lucy, for this further proof of your kind
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 49 
 
 attention," replied Mrs. Derville coolly; 
 '^but no consideration can induce me to 
 prolong my stay here another week." 
 
 " Well, well, but stay, do stay over to- 
 morrow. I assure you, I can^t do with- 
 out yoti; and it is a party made on pur- 
 pose for you and your sweet warklers. I 
 have promised the company they should 
 see and hear a nest of the most eharming 
 singing-birds — such a lively and tunefiil 
 group!" 
 
 *' It is impossible, madam : the singing - 
 birds must henceforth sing in their own 
 sufe woods, for here they find there are 
 huwks only too ready to pounce on their 
 uaconseious heads." 
 
 ^* Hawks ! hawks ! Very pretty and meta- 
 phorical, but wholly incomprehensible, I 
 protest! Hawks! I assure you all my guests 
 to-morrow are more like turtle-doves, and 
 prepared to coo out their admiration for 
 the sweet warblers. I assure you there 
 is a young and beautiful heiress who is 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 50 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 coming, and who says such things oiyou, 
 Mr. Derville, as I must not repeat, lest it 
 should make you conceited ; — and a cer- 
 tain young baronet declares Miss Derville 
 is a divinity ! And I really believe poor Lord 
 N. virill destroy himself when he comes 
 and finds my house deprived of its at- 
 traction. What will he say or do when 
 he finds that sweet syren gone .^" 
 
 " Find some other sweet syren as soon 
 as possible, if one there be so lost to pro- 
 priety as to encourage the marked ad- 
 dresses oid^ married man. Had Miss Der- 
 ville known Lord N. was married, she 
 would not have so long encouraged atten- 
 tions which, I am truly concerned to say, 
 have already, I find, exposed both her 
 and her mother to observations of an un- 
 pleasant nature." 
 
 " And is it possible, my dear creature, 
 that you can be so weak as to mind what 
 jealous envious women say ? Lord N's at- 
 tentions and admiration are quite enough
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 51 
 
 to make any woman the fashion ; and I 
 am quite delighted to see how charmed 
 he was .with your sweet Jane> as I knew 
 how it would get her on in the world. 
 And now that she is so admired, so sought 
 after, and that I have no douht of some- 
 thing very great turning up for her; it is 
 quite a cruel, mardtre sort of step to 
 take her away. Besides, to give you a 
 little gentle caution ; if, as you say, of 
 which I had no suspicion, you did not 
 know till now that Lord N. was married, 
 your going off immediately on hear- 
 ing it, will show every body that this de- 
 lightful Adonis of fifty-odd had gained 
 your daughter's affections,andyou thought 
 it better to sound a retreat ; besides at 
 the same time telling theworld, that, con- 
 sidering your situation in life, you have 
 rather high and ambitious views for your 
 daughter." 
 
 At first Mrs. Derville was too much 
 agitated to answer this long and artful 
 d2
 
 52 MRS. ARLiN(.TON ; OR, 
 
 address; while Jane sat in trembling jyi- 
 lence ; and Lionel looked at Lady Lucy, 
 as if he wished she were a man that he 
 might knock her down. 
 
 "If, madam," at length replied Mrs. 
 Derville, *'my ambition ever betrayed nie 
 into wishing to see my child the wife of 
 a nobleman, and that nobleman Lord N., 
 I am quite willing to expose myself, as 
 some expiation of my folly, to the mor- 
 tifying suspicions and observations which 
 you mention." 
 
 ^'But have you any right to expose 
 your daughter \.o them .^ answer me that.** 
 : " J^ane, do you answer, for I feel as- 
 sured that you will answer as you ought." 
 And Jane, scarcely able to refrain from 
 tears, replied, '^ Whatever my mother 
 thinks best to do both for me and for her- 
 self, I am convinced is the best thing to 
 be done : and as she thinks it right to go 
 away to-morrow, I am most willing to do 
 so^ let the world say what it pleases."
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 53 
 
 '' Mighty obedient indeed ! And you, 
 Mr. Derville, are ymi equally willing and 
 obedient as your meek sister .^ are yoii 
 disposed to break your engage n) en t with 
 that elegant tonish young man^ Sir Mor- 
 daunt Williams, who has paid you more 
 attention than I ever saw liim pay any 
 man in my life, and who would liave 
 given the very last polish to your nian- 
 ners .'' 
 
 '' No doubt/' replied Lionel with a sav- 
 eastic smile, and quite forced over to his 
 mother's side by Lady Lucy's imperti- 
 nence, as he called it; ^*no doubt, my 
 manners might have received the last po- 
 lish ; but what does your ladyship think 
 would have become of my inorals, under 
 such a tutor as we now find Sir Mor- 
 daunt is capable of being T^ 
 
 ' ' And pray what have you to say against , 
 Sir Mordaunt's morals ? He is not worse 
 than other young men, 1 dare say ; and 
 I cannot think what officious person has
 
 54 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 lias been interfering, to frighten you all 
 away at a moment when your own in- 
 terest so forcibly requires you to remain 
 here. 
 
 " Accident, or I might say Providence, 
 caused me to overhear last night what has 
 produced this change in my plans ; and 
 when I have related what that was, Lady 
 Lucy, you will not wonder at my decision." 
 She did relate it ; — and before Lady Lucy 
 could reply, Mrs. Derville added, " You 
 see therefore, madam, that a stranger 
 felt pity for that mother, for whom you, 
 a professed friend, felt no pity at all. A 
 stranger wished me to be put on my guard, 
 while you carefully concealed my son's 
 clanger fi'om me: — And all these circum* 
 stances considered, can you wonder that 
 the singing-birds, as I said before, are re- 
 solved to warble no longer where they 
 know that there are hawks ready to pounce 
 on them ?" 
 
 Lady Lucy was now convinced that the
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 55 
 
 eyes of the anxious mother were too com-' 
 pletely opened to be closed again : and 
 since all her hopes were at an end of mak- 
 ing the Dervilles of any further service to 
 her. she had no longer any measures to 
 keep with them. She therefore gave way 
 to the natural violence of her temper and 
 meanness of her disposition, and reproach- 
 ed Mrs. Derville, in words almost inarti- 
 culate from passion, with the extent of her 
 obligations to her, and with the base in- 
 gratitude with which she had returned 
 them ; by indirectly accusing her of pur- 
 posely exposing her daughter to the ad- 
 dresses of a married man, and her son to 
 the corruptions of a profligate companion ; 
 but that she was glad she had discovered 
 the real nature and character of Mrs. Der- 
 ville, and had found out, that with much 
 seeming morality and pretence to religion^ 
 she had, as was usually the case, a great 
 deal of real rancour, and was very apt to 
 listen to scandal against other people.
 
 56 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 '* Little did I think," added Lady Lucy, 
 *'that an acquaintance which Ihad been so 
 charmed with was to end in this manner. 
 However, since it imist be so, I am glad it 
 has terminated so soon, as I shall feel the 
 less ; since my tender nature is so apt to 
 attach itself, that if a few days more of in- 
 timacy had taken place, it would have 
 broken my heart to give you up, as I now 
 do,yor ever'' So saying, she rushed to the 
 door, and was down stairs before the Der- 
 villes had recovered the consternation ari- 
 sing from so many varied feelings as her 
 parting address had awakened in them. 
 
 Little Mary Ann, however, whohad wit- 
 nessed the whole scene, was fully mistress 
 of herself; and jumping witl> joy she ex- 
 claimed, "I am glad she is gone! a spite- 
 ful old woman !" and then with great power 
 of mimicry she took off Lady Lucy's man- 
 ner and tokiies^ and gave the greatest part 
 of the concluding sentences with such ad- 
 mirable correctness, that both Lionel and
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 57 
 
 Jane could not help laughing ; though 
 Mrs. Dervilie, who disliked and h^d for- 
 bidden tne exercise of so viie n talent, 
 would have chidden her severeij', could 
 she have attended to her suthcieaay, . -^^ 
 Lady Lucy, meanwhile, had scarcely 
 gotten to the door, when she recollected 
 how foohshly she had acted in quarrel- 
 ling with these rustics, as they lived near 
 a fashionable watering-place, and it miglit 
 be very convenient to her to go and 
 spend a few weeks at their house every 
 autumn. She therefore resolved to go 
 back, entreat Mrs. Derville to pardon the 
 irritability of her temper, and the exquisite 
 hcuteness of her feelings when the ten- 
 derness of her friendship was wounded, 
 and so on : and she was entering the room 
 with her handkerchief ready to put to her 
 eyes to weep out her apology, when she 
 heard and saw Mary iVnn mimicking her 
 to the very life ; and unable to control 
 her rage at this unexpected proof how 
 F 5
 
 58 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 cheaply she was held in the family, she 
 gave the unconscious child a box on the 
 ear, which certainly rivalled if it did not 
 exceed in force that given by Queen Eli- 
 zabeth to Lord Essex ; and having done 
 this. Lady Lucy, ashamed of the exploit, 
 and convinced this had not been the way 
 to get an invitation to Lovelands, ran 
 down stairs again as fast as possible and 
 drove oif, resolved to revenge herself on 
 the rustics, as she now called them in- 
 stead of the o'ural beauties and sweet 
 singing -birds, by declaring that Mrs . Der- 
 ville had found out her daughter was de- 
 sperately in love with Lord N., and had 
 therefore taken her away for fear of con- 
 sequences — a report which was too flat- 
 tering to his vanity for Lord N. not to 
 confirm as much as possible. 
 
 The Dervilles did not soon recover 
 their surprise at this second visit from 
 Lady Lucy, and her sudden disappearance 
 after having given poor Mary Ann so
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS, 59 
 
 painful a memorial of her presence :— 
 she seemed, like a malignant fairy at a 
 birth to which she had not been invited, 
 to have come for the purpose of inflict- 
 ing pain, and then to have vanished as 
 soon as she had succeeded in her endea- 
 vour. But as soon as recollection was 
 restored to them, Mrs. Derville coolly- 
 said to Mary Ann, *'I am obliged to 
 Lady Lucy for having saved me the pain 
 of correcting an offending child myself; 
 the severity of the blow which she has 
 given you, Mary Ann, is sufficient punish- 
 ment for your presumption in doing what 
 you know I hate and disapprove, and I 
 trust that the remembrance of this well- 
 deserved chastisement will prevent your 
 ever erring in this manner again." 
 
 ** No, it would not," sobbed out Mary 
 Ann; " for I would do it again directly/, 
 though she were to beat me black and 
 blue, on purpose to tease her, but for
 
 CO MRS; ARLINGTON; Oft, 
 
 fear of vexing you, maiiinia, — that J am 
 sorry for indeed ; but for nothing else." 
 Mrs. Derville on hearing this rose, and 
 taking Mary Ann by the hand led her 
 into another room, as she never reproved 
 either servant or child before another; and 
 having reasoned with the refractory and 
 impenitent offender, she brought her back 
 again penitent and subdued. 
 
 This was the last event in their Lon- 
 don life ; and as it put a stop to their ac- 
 quaintance with Lady Lucy Donellan, it 
 was one that might be reckoned fortu- 
 nate, if not important. 
 
 Mrs.DeiTille saw with a thankful heart 
 the dawning of that day which was to see 
 them on their road from London and its 
 dangers, and light them cm their return 
 to the safety and comfort of their home : 
 for the fears of her maternal heart had 
 been so strongly excited both for the peace 
 of her daughter and the morals of h^r
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 6i 
 
 son, that as yet she was alive to nothing 
 but the clangers of the metropoUs, and 
 particularly of the high circle in which 
 she had moved; and its charms were for 
 the time entirely forgotten. But no feel- 
 ing less strong than that of maternal love 
 could have had such an effect on Mrs. 
 Derville, whose pride and vanity — of which 
 like all human beings she had her share— r 
 had been gratified to the utmost during 
 her stay in London ; and the only thing 
 wanting to her enjoyment was the pre- 
 sence of her husband ; for she never re- 
 turned from those scenes where she had 
 really shone a rival to her daughter, and 
 had been certainly more noticed, without 
 saying to herself, " I wish Dervilie had 
 been there to see how much I was ad- 
 mired!" 
 
 Still, however, in spite of the flatteries 
 of London, when the boxes were .cording, 
 when every bill was paid, the carriage at 
 the door, and the last adieus to her kind
 
 62 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OK, 
 
 friend the solicitor were spoken, — ^Mrs. 
 Derville's heart beat with a consciousness 
 of certain relief, and she jumped into the 
 carriage with a degree of alacrity in which 
 she was rivalled by Mary Ann alone. For 
 Miss Derville was not yet reconciled to 
 the surrender of her dreams of offered, if 
 not of accepted rank ; and she was mor- 
 tified, probably, that she had no conquests 
 to relate on her return, in order to in- 
 crease her value in the eyes of one, by 
 whom, however, her value was alreatjy suf- 
 ficiently appreciated. And Lionel was vex- 
 ed at not being able to see the races of which 
 he had heard so much : and as he had re- 
 ceived from Sir Mordaunt a very kind 
 note of regret in return to his of apology, 
 he was much disposed to believe that re- 
 port had done him injustice, and to wish 
 his mother had not been so firm in her 
 decision. 
 
 These reflections led them to proceed 
 some miles on their journey before silence
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 63 
 
 was at all broken, except by Mary Ann's 
 exclamations of delight at seeing the 
 country again, and having left that dis- 
 agreeable London. But before they reach- 
 ed the place where they were to sleep, the 
 buoyancy of youthful spirits had returned, 
 and anticipations of home resumed their 
 power over the minds of the young people. 
 
 With Mrs. Derville, however, the case 
 was different. As she left London further 
 and further behind her, with all its flat- 
 teries, its agreeable idleness, its gaieties^ 
 and those comforts (as they were there 
 called), but which Mrs. Derville felt to be 
 luxuries, — she remembered with grateful 
 regrets the pleasures London had afford- 
 ed her, and the admirers if not the friends 
 which she had left : — while the moral and 
 other dangers which her children had es- 
 caped by leaving it, and the moral disgust 
 which she herself had experienced, were 
 forgotten in the pleasing remembrance of 
 the happiness that she had enjoyed there. 
 
 True, she tenderly loved her husband.
 
 64 MkS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 and was fondly anticipating the pleasure 
 of being re-united to him ; — but when the 
 first delight of meeting should subside^ 
 she knew that those privations the conse- 
 quence ( f a narrow income would appear 
 to her more painful than ever, by the re- 
 cently acquired ability to contrast her 
 slender store of domestic accommodations 
 ^vith the luxuries which she had witnessed. 
 — She was returning to small rooms, old 
 furniture, and few, if any, of those bed- 
 room or parlour comforts which our an- 
 cestors did very well without, but which 
 we have learnt to believe are absolute re- 
 quisites. She was returning to the re- 
 gular discharge of such domestic duties 
 as a narrow income made necessary, and 
 which, however disagreeable, she had 
 hitherto cheerfully fulfilled. But life du- 
 ring the last five weeks had opened upon 
 her in a new light ; — the mornings had 
 lately awakened her only to the pursuit 
 of pleasure in the crowded street, public 
 drive, or the fashionable promenade ;
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 6*5 
 
 while the tasteful inoniing dress was suc- 
 ceeded by the as tasteful evening one. She 
 had learnt to be dissatisfied with the sim- 
 pUcity of her own rural retirement by 
 spending two nights at the villa of a wo- 
 man of fashion ; and she thought with 
 pain of the resumption of househould em- 
 ployments, from recollection of the plea- 
 sures of elegant idleness in the metro- 
 polis. '* I wish some one would give 
 Mr. Derville a living of a thousand a 
 •year ! " was always the burthen of her song 
 after these thoughts had got possession 
 of her mind; and shesometimesw^is tempt- 
 ed to regret that the money which she 
 had expended in London was the only 
 sum which her husband intended should 
 be taken from the legacy that she had 
 just received, as the income of the pro- 
 perty was only sufficient, he thought, — and 
 he valued it accordingly, — to. enable him 
 to give his son a college educatioii : fof 
 the very considerable legacy which Lady
 
 66 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 Lucy used to talk of, in order to increase the 
 rustics' weight in society, (as she now call- 
 ed them,) was not much more than four 
 thousand pounds. ** However," thought 
 Mrs.Derville, "a small sum will do some- 
 thing towards improving the inside of the 
 rectory at least, and I know Derville will 
 not deny it to me." 
 
 These ideas had full possession of her 
 mind when the mansion and grounds of 
 Mrs. Arlington burst upon her view^ and 
 called forth the sigh of envy from her 
 bosom. " Just such a place I should like 
 to live in — Of just such a place I might 
 once have been mistress!" she had just 
 said to herself, when she saw the door of 
 the house open, and a servant in a very 
 rich livery appear at it, accompanied by 
 another person w^hom she concluded to 
 be a gentleman out of livery, and whom, 
 but for her residence in the heau inonde, 
 she would certainly have taken for a real 
 gentleman. ** I should not wonder," said
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 67 
 
 Mrs. Derville, " if we were to meet Mrs. 
 Arlington or some line persons coming 
 to her house, as the servants seem ex- 
 pecting some one," She had scarcely 
 spoken, when two outriders in similar li- 
 veries appeared in sight, and not far be- 
 hind them an open barouche drawn by four 
 fine gray horses. In the landau was one 
 lady, whose features were hidden by a veil, 
 and on the barouche-seat a female whom 
 they took for her maid. But though the 
 children made these observations, the 
 postillions drove so rapidly that, though 
 no coward, Mrs. Derville was too much 
 taken up in watching the motions of her 
 own driver to heed any thing else : and her 
 fears proved only too Well founded ; for 
 just at the narrowest part of the road, as 
 Mrs, Derville's postillion tried in vain to 
 get out of the way of the other carriage, 
 the wheels became entangled ; and as the 
 latter carriage was forced along by the 
 speed of the horses, it took off the wheel
 
 C)S MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 of Mrs. Derville's infirm vehicle (a lan- 
 daulet lent her by a friend and neighbour fov 
 the journey) . In one instant therefore it was 
 overturned; while Lionel was precipitated 
 into tl e road, and lay there motionless and 
 stunned with the falh 
 
 Jane and Mary Ann were unhurt ; but 
 Mrs. Derville fell against a sharp stone 
 which cut open her temple : but though 
 the blood streamed down her cheek, she 
 heeded it not, as terror for her son en- 
 grossed her every faculty ; and throwing 
 lierself beside him, she gave way to every 
 expression of anxious and suffering ten- 
 derness which her quick feelings dictated ; 
 while Jane, more mistress of herself, dis- 
 patched the postillion on one of the horses 
 to a farm-house for assistance; and the 
 maid'Servarit held the other, anxiously 
 looking: after Mrs. Arlington's carriage as 
 she did so — for a scream which did more 
 honour to her feeling than her self-com- 
 mand^ had escaped that lady on seeing
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 69 
 
 the accident, and Jenny thought it likeiy 
 that she would send some assistance to 
 them from her house. But she knew not 
 Mrs. Arhngton ; — it w^as her custom to 
 give, not send assistance only; and as soon 
 as her postillions could stop the horses, 
 who had run away, Jenny to her great re- 
 lief saw the carriage driving back, and the 
 lady, who she fancied must be Mrs. Ar- 
 lington, still in it. In one minute more 
 that lady was by her side ; and shortly 
 after, while a tear filled her eye on seeing 
 the senseless state of Lionel, and on hear- 
 ing the touching lamentations of his mo- 
 ther, Mrs. Arlington was chafing Lionel's 
 temples with eau de Cologne ^ and as- 
 sisting Jane in examining the head. 
 
 But he w^as only stunned, not wound- 
 ed, by the fall. In a short time he open- 
 ed his eyes, and recollection entirely 
 returning, he raised himself up from the 
 ground without assistance. The transi- 
 tion from woe to joy wa.s too nnich for
 
 70 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 his agitated mother ; and to the terror of 
 the surrounders she became insensible 
 herself; for not till now had they obser\'ed 
 the wound in her temple, and they feared 
 that she had fainted from loss of blood. 
 Mrs. Arlington's outriders and other ser- 
 vants had by this time arrived ; and that 
 lady insisted on conveying the whole party 
 to her house while she sent for the nearest 
 assistance : and when Mrs. Derville re- 
 covered, she found herself going slowly 
 along in Mrs. Arlington's barouche with 
 her head reclining on Jane's shoulder, 
 her hand in that lady's, while Mary Ann 
 supported by her maid sat in the ba- 
 rouche-seat ; and Lionel, holding her 
 other hand, was watching with agitated 
 expectation the moment of returning life. 
 " Oh ! what is all this ?" she faltered 
 out at first, ** and what does it mean ?'* 
 But immediately, " I recollect it all now, 
 and you are restored to me !" she ex- 
 claimed, bursting into, a passionate flood
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 71 
 
 of tears, and throwing herself on her son's 
 neck. 
 
 The first feeling was for Lionel, tlie 
 next for Mrs. Arlington, whose fine coun- 
 tenance expressed her sympathy with the 
 scene before her, and to whose kindness 
 Mrs. Derville saw that she was at that 
 moment much indebted. But before Mrs. 
 Derville could ask a single question, Mary 
 Ann called out, '' O, dear mamma, only 
 think! we are going to that fine house!" 
 and the carriage stopped at the door. 
 
 Mrs. Derville was beginning to express 
 regret and other things usually said on 
 such occasions ; but she was stopped by 
 Mrs. Arlington, who replied with a be- 
 nevolent smile, that having done the mis- 
 chief it was merely her duty to do all she 
 could to repair it ; but that, in this in- 
 stance, she could assure Mrs. Derville it 
 was her pleasure also ; — and as her lan- 
 daulet was so broken that it could not be 
 mended in a day or two at least, she must
 
 7!2 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 beg Mrs. Derville and her family to con- 
 sider her house as their home till they 
 were able to leave it. 
 
 " But can we not procure a post-chaise 
 and go on directly.^" said Mrs. Derville. 
 
 ^' A post-chaise can't conveniently hold 
 five persons, though one of them is my 
 little friend there," was the answer: "and 
 if you are expected any where, the post 
 goes out in a few hours, and you can 
 write whatever you choose: besides, re- 
 member, you have gone through a great 
 deal, and want rest." 
 
 Mrs. Derville bowed her acquiescence; 
 nor did she do it reluctantly : she read 
 the asking eyes of her children — powerful 
 pleaders always at her maternal heart — 
 and she was not sorry herself to be forced 
 into an immediate renewal of the luxuries 
 which she had reluctantly resigned. 
 
 The travellers alighted; and while their 
 trunks were bringing from the broken 
 vehicle, Mrs. Arlington begged leave to.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 73 
 
 conduct them into her own apartments, 
 which consisted of a suite of rooms on 
 the ground-floor opening on the parterre 
 that had so much excited their admi- 
 ration:, but the trunks arrived before they 
 had sufficiently examined the beauties that 
 surrounded them ; and their kind hostess^ 
 having accompanied them as soon as they 
 had taken som^e refreshment to the rooms 
 intended for their occupation, left them 
 to change their dress. When the surgeon 
 for whom Mrs. Arlington had sent ar- 
 rived, he soon convinced Mrs. Derville 
 that her son's fall would be attended by 
 no serious consequences whatever : and he 
 also made her children easy, by assuring 
 them that a very slight application of lint 
 would cure the wound on her temple. As 
 Mrs. Arlington went down stairs, she met 
 Mrs. Dei-ville's servant going to her mis- 
 tress, and she asked her the name of 
 the lady whom she was so fortunate as to 
 have for her guest ; but the name was all 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 of which the maid's reply informed her — 
 and more she was too delicate to ask. All 
 she knew therefore of her guests was, 
 that their name was Derville; that the 
 mother loved her children and the chil- 
 dren their mother, as mother and chil- 
 dren should love each other ; that they 
 were uncommonly handsome, that their 
 manners showed them to be well-bred, 
 and they were probably well-born : nor 
 was it possible for any woman whose mo- 
 rals were not correct, to have such ii coun- 
 tenance and suv^h ease of manner as Mrs. 
 Derville had ; and till she could learn more 
 relative to them, Mrs. Arlington was sa- 
 tisfied with what she already knew. 
 
 Mrs. Derville, in the mean while, was 
 equally easy with regard to the lady at 
 whose house she had at present found an 
 abode. She had convinced herself that 
 Mrs. Arlington was a widow; and as every 
 thing about her bore an air of uncommon 
 opulence, she fancied that her new friend
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 75 
 
 had been forced or induced to marry an 
 old man for money, who had in return 
 settled on her his immense possessions. 
 She too was quite satisfied with the evi- 
 dence of un impeached respectabihty so 
 strongly portrayed in the lovely and strik- 
 ing countenance and manner of Mrs. Ar- 
 lington, who seemed a few years younger 
 than herself; and she could not help being 
 thankful for the accident which had led her 
 to form an acquaintance which might some 
 dav or other be of service to her dau2:hter. 
 ^^Hiiie her mother was employed in 
 writing to Mr. Derville, and telling him 
 she only regretted the accident as it 
 lengthened her separation from him, 
 Mary Ann was in an ecstasy of delight ; 
 bounding from her mother's to her sister's 
 apartment, now examining the pict sires, 
 now looking out of the windows on the 
 lovely view before them, now flying 
 with exultation to the window of the 
 room in which she was to sleep in the 
 e2
 
 76 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 prettiest tent-bed in the world, at the open 
 window of which peeped in branches of 
 the sweetest and handsomest flowers which 
 she had ever seen ; for the magnolia in 
 full blow was the one, and the double 
 pomegranate in full bloom was tlie other. 
 " O mamma, what a happy, enviable 
 woman is Mrs. Arlington!" exclaimed 
 the httle girl for the twentieth time: and 
 though she had neither husband nor child 
 apparently, Mrs. Derville's newly awa- 
 kened taste for grandeur made her think 
 so too. It was now long past Mary 
 Ann's usual hour for dinner ; and the poor 
 child was delighted to think she was go- 
 ing to dine in company once more, a treat 
 which she had rarely enjoyed in London ; 
 and the sight of her happy face was a real 
 pleasure to the kind heart of Mrs. Ar- 
 lington. 
 
 When the dimier-bell rung, the travel- 
 lers obeyed the summons, and found a gen- 
 tleman and a lady with their hostess. The
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 77 
 
 gentleman v.- as Mrs. Arlington's domestic 
 chaplain; and in the lady jMrs. Derville 
 recognised a Mrs. liilmore^ whom she 
 had seen at Lady. Lucy Donellan's, and 
 who, hearing on her arrival that a Mrs. 
 Derville and her family were guests at 
 the Lawn-house (so Mrs. Arlington's 
 seat was called), had made that lady ac- 
 quainted with Mrs. Derville's whole hi- 
 story as she had heard it from Lady Lucy. 
 — On Mrs. Derville's entrance, Mrs. Ar- 
 lington smiling said, "I find that Mrs, 
 Hilmore and you, Mrs. Derville, are old 
 acquaintances .^ " . 
 
 ^' By no means," replied the latter : " I 
 have often seen, but was never presented 
 to Mrs. Hilmore." And that lady, look- 
 ing rather foolish, made an ungracious 
 curtsy and led the way to the dinner- 
 room. The truth was, Mrs. Hilmore's 
 rank in life was not sufficiently decided 
 to allow her to be gracious to those whom
 
 7S MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 she thought her inferiors ; and as slie had 
 not pny particular point to carry, she saw 
 no reason why she should make the ac- 
 quaintance of a country clergyman's wife 
 and daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Arlington, who knew this lady's 
 character, only smiled as she witnessed 
 her tell-tale hauteur, and resolved to be 
 more marked than ever in her attention 
 to Mrs. Derville; while she heartily re- 
 joiced that as soon as dinner was over 
 Mrs. Hilmore was to set off on a visit to 
 a distance, and had only called at Mrs. 
 Arlington's in her way. 
 
 The dinner, which in all respects was 
 worthy of the opulence and elegance of the 
 owner, being at length over, the ladies re- 
 turned to the drawing-room; and Mrs. 
 Hilmore, unregretted by any one, depart- 
 ed. Mrs. Arlington then proposed a walk 
 round the grounds, which proposal was 
 gladly assented to. As the evening was
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 79 
 
 sultry, she also proposed a row on the wa- 
 ter, and the happy party found a boat and 
 rowers ready at the word of command. 
 
 *' There is every thing in this sweet 
 place that the most ambitious person 
 could desire," exclaimed Lionel. 
 
 " There is all one could possibly wish 
 for. indeed ! " said Jane. 
 
 "It is an enviable spot, to be sure ! " 
 observed Mrs. Derville. 
 
 Mrs. Arlington stooped down and ga- 
 thered a water-lily at this moment, while 
 Mary Ann said, " O mamma, I am so 
 glad we were overturned ! it was so lucky 
 for us, as it brought us hither ! I am so 
 delighted with all I see !" 
 
 *' For shame !" cried Jane ; '' how can 
 you be glad of what made mamma go 
 through so much misery, and put Lionel 
 in such danger ? See, mamma looks so 
 pale, I am sure she has not recovered the 
 fright yet.'' 
 
 ** No, my child, I have not; but lam
 
 80 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 SO sure that you and Lionel, as well as 
 Mary Ann, enjoy the unexpected good- 
 luck of being Mrs. Arlington's guests, 
 that I can forelve Marv Ann her little 
 selfishness ; though she well knov.'s how 
 often her dear father tells her that she is 
 always to prefer, even in trifles, the good 
 and pleasure of others to her own." 
 
 *' How well and how forcibly is this im- 
 portant maxim illustrated," replied Mrs. 
 Arlington, "in Miss Edgeworth's Tales ! 
 and as a compensation for the punishment 
 which you have inflicted on this }'oung 
 offender, I v/iil find a volume of the in- 
 comparable work to which I allude, and 
 with your leave, \vhen we return to the 
 house and candles are brought in, one of 
 our young companions shall read it aloud 
 to us while we v/ork." Mary Ann, — v.hose 
 head had dropped on her bosom, while a 
 tear filled her eye at the rebuke from her sis- 
 ter and the accusation of selfishness from 
 her mother, — revived at the idea of the
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 81 
 
 promised treat, and became alive as before 
 to the charms of every thing around her. 
 
 The amusement both on land and 
 water being at an end, as the day was fast 
 closing in, they returned to the house in 
 a state of very enviable feelings ; to which 
 the only drawback to the travtillers was, 
 that Mr. Derville was not a sharer in their 
 pleasure. . "This is a sort of pleasure that 
 would have suited your fatlicr," said Mrs. 
 Derville; "I never, for his own sake, 
 wished for him at a London assembly." 
 
 "I often did," replied Lionel with feel- 
 ing, "when I saw how much you and Jane 
 were admired, and heard your singing 
 praised; for I was myself so much gratified 
 by the admiration which you excited, that 
 I wished him to share in my pleasure." 
 
 Mrs. Derville's eyes filled with tears, 
 and Jane's sparkled at this proof of af- 
 fectionate feeling in one so dear to them ; 
 and Mrs. Arlington turned on him a look 
 of approbation more expressive and more
 
 82 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 flattering than any words could have been . 
 " And had he no admirers in London ?" 
 asked Mrs. Arlington, smiling as she 
 spoke : *' he sings, does he not .^" 
 
 ** O dear, yes!" eagerly replied Jane, 
 '' quite as well if not better than we do ; 
 and I assure you ive were very proud of 
 him^ 
 
 ** I don't doubt it," answered Airs. Ar- 
 lington, fixing her large dark eyes with an 
 expression of benevolent pleasure on the 
 face of the happy mother before her; '*and 
 sweet is it to witness family affection like 
 yours : — but you must allow me to judge 
 for myself of your vocal powers ; therefore, 
 as soon as you have read one of the tales 
 of which we talked, we will adjourn to the 
 music-room." 
 
 The tale was read and admired ; the 
 writer extolled and envied, whose wis- 
 dom was so eniinently gifted with the 
 power of making others wise in trifles as 
 well as in great things ; or rather, of con-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 83 
 
 vincing all who are capable of being con- 
 vinced, that nothing is a trifle which 
 involves the every-day comfort of a fel- 
 low-creature even in the minutest point 
 whatever. 
 
 The party then adjourned to the mu- 
 sic-room according to Airs. Arlington's 
 proposal, and Mary Ann was allowed 
 to sit up till ten. The travellers sung 
 most of the trios and duos which they 
 had sung together in London : and while 
 she heard the sw^eetness of their voices, 
 the perfect tune in which they sang, 
 gazed at the same time on their ^reat 
 beauty, and beheld the unpretending sim- 
 plicity of their manner, she was not sur- 
 prised that Lady Lucy Donellan had ex- 
 hibited them with pride in her fashion- 
 able menagerie of human and two-legged 
 animals. 
 
 But Mrs. Arlington feared that this 
 taste of the fine world and of its flatteries 
 would make the every-day employments
 
 84 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 of retired life comparatively insipid to 
 them ; and she was more disposed to pity 
 them for the success which they had met 
 with in the circles of fashion, than to con- 
 ocratulate them on it. " Does Mr.Derville 
 love music ? " said she. 
 
 "^ He delighfs in it," was the answer. 
 
 ''I rejoice to hear it," replied Mrs. 
 'Arlington sighing. "That wife is en- 
 viable indeed, whose husband takes a 
 pleasure in her accomplishments." And 
 she secretly lioped tliat Mr. Derville's 
 praises, to a heart as alTectionate as Mrs. 
 Derville's seemed to be, might still be 
 sufficient to compensate for the flatteries 
 of the titled and the fashionable. 
 
 Her guests were now solicitous to have 
 the pleasure of hearing her, as they con- 
 cluded from the instruments and music- 
 books (which were considerable in num- 
 ber), that Mrs. Arlington herself was a 
 performer: but she refused to comply 
 with their request, lest she should put an
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 85 
 
 end to the ease and unembarrassment 
 with which they now sung before her, 
 and that she should therefore lose the 
 pleasure which their singing gave her ; 
 as she could not but know that if they 
 heard her perform they would be conscious 
 that they were Hs ten ing to a very finished 
 singer. Therefore, as she sav; their vanity 
 had been much elated by tlieiY petifssucccs 
 dans le beau jnonde, she was too bene- 
 volent to wish to mortify it, unless con- 
 sideration for their good imperiouslv de- 
 manded it ; — but she played waltzes and 
 a sonata to them, and they found that she 
 wss a first-rate player. The hour of rest 
 was now arrived ; and after the family had 
 been summoned to prayers, the party se- 
 parated, pleased with each other, and an- 
 ticipating with satisfaction the return of 
 morning. 
 
 Morning came, and the breakfast-room 
 and the breakfast-table exhibited so many
 
 86 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 beauties, so many luxuries, and so many 
 conveniences, that poor Mrs. Derville 
 found the Lawn -house more calculated 
 to put her out of conceit with her hum- 
 ble home than any thing which she had 
 seen during her London visit : and Mrs. 
 Arlington's penetration was not slow to 
 discover the frame of mind which the 
 sight of her elegant and complete esta- 
 blishment excited in her guest. " How^ 
 necessary it is," thought Mrs. Arlington, 
 *' for most persons to avoid tempta- 
 tion, for there only the safety of most 
 of us lies ! — how few are proof against its 
 seductions ! Here is this happy wife and 
 mother become, I see, discontented with 
 her blissful and enviable lot, because she 
 has witnessed a style of living superior to 
 her own, — ^and which is unable to confer 
 happiness ; whereas, if she had staid at 
 home in her peaceful and privileged re- 
 tirement, she would have remained happy
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 87 
 
 in the possession which she has, and not 
 have incurred the vice, as I may call it, 
 of murmuring at her lot ! " 
 
 Mrs. ArHngton broke from this mo- 
 rahzing reverie just time enough to hear 
 Mrs. Derville say, "I shall really insist 
 on your father's laying out a little money 
 on some furniture and conveniences like 
 these for the table, and so on ; — we really 
 have nothing to use but what looks now as 
 if it came out of the ark — and we have no 
 new inventions whatever ;" — while Jane 
 and Lionel assented to the absolute ne- 
 cessity of such purchases : and in a short 
 time there was nothing in the room in 
 which they were, which was not to be 
 copied in miniature at Lovelands. 
 
 Mrs. Arlington said nothing; but she 
 sighed as she discovered that she was an 
 object of envy to one, whose peculiarly 
 happy fate excited her envy ; and when 
 during the course of that day she ob- 
 served Mrs. Derville's increased dispo-
 
 88 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 sltion to speak even with petulant dissa- 
 tisfaction of the paucity of comforts which 
 lier home afforded, and to dwell on her re- 
 solution to make Mr. Derville do this and 
 buy that, — as if the consciousness that 
 the money came from her made her more 
 resolved to be peremptory in her demands, 
 — Mrs. Arlington wished, if possible, to 
 cure the growing evil before it was too 
 late, and to administer the remedy, how^- 
 ever painful it might be to her to apply 
 it ; for, spite of the little weaknesses 
 which this London journey had called 
 forth so perceptibly in Mrs. Derville and 
 her elder cliildren, she could not help 
 feeling a generous interest in their fate, 
 and a conviction that they had excellent 
 hearts and good principles ; and she was 
 the more convinced of this, w^ien she drew 
 from Mrs. Derville, when alone with her, 
 the reasons of her sudden resolution to 
 leave I^ndon, and of her power, while 
 fortified by maternal affection alarmed
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 89 
 
 for the safety of its objects, to resist the 
 dangerous pleadings of Lady Lucy Do- 
 nellan. 
 
 *'This woman's happiness is worth pre- 
 serving entire," thought she; ''and I wish 
 I could save her from the hazard of em- 
 bittering her own peace and alienating 
 her husband's affections, by petty cavil- 
 lings and complaints at the meanness 
 and scarcity of such accomm.odations as, 
 till now, domestic comforts and connu- 
 bial happiness had prevented her from 
 feeling." Again Mrs. Arlington sunk 
 into a reverie: but as she was alone with 
 Mrs. Derville^ politeness compelled her 
 to subdue her inchnation to indulge in it ; 
 and after complimenting Mrs. Derville 
 very sincerely on her well-principled re- 
 solution, general subjects were started, 
 and the arrival of company gave a new 
 turn to their thoughts. 
 
 The next day, when the carriage was 
 to have been mended and sent to the
 
 90 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 Lawn-house, it was not i^.nished, and 
 could not be ready, the workmen sent 
 word, till the next evening, if then. x\nd 
 Mrs. Der\iile was aeain forced to tell 
 Mr. Derviile not to expect her; but slie 
 assured him that she would set off '• the 
 day after the next :" while she endeavour- 
 ed to make herself believe that she was 
 very sorry at the delay. IVhen the let- 
 ter was gone, Mrs. Arlington said that 
 she hoped Mrs. Derviile had not fixed 
 any positive time for her return, as she 
 wished to take advantage of the oppor- 
 tunity which chance had given her of 
 making new friends, whom both her taste 
 and her judgement approved; and that she 
 had also the temptation to hold out to 
 them of a mubical party, which she was 
 to have in two or three days. Mrs. Der- 
 viile had not resolution to own that she 
 had fixed a time for her return, as she 
 wished to stay to this party; yet felt, that 
 as her husband would expect her, she
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 91 
 
 ought to go, and that Mrs. Arlington 
 might think so too: she therefore evaded 
 answering by a ^'You are very good — 
 very flattering — should hke to stay, but 
 ashamed to intrude," and so forth. She 
 then went to tell Jane and Lionel what 
 Mrs. Arlington had said; and they, de- 
 lighted at the idea of a party, and pleased 
 to show off once more as they liad done 
 in London, proposed immediately that 
 they should go and practise against the 
 evening came. — ^That day was passed as 
 much to their sasisfaction as tb.e two pre- 
 ceding ones, and company was invited to 
 dinner ; two of the invited guests were a 
 gentleman of large fortune and his sister; 
 and Jane, whose little heart had learnt to 
 beat with the love and hope of conquest, 
 took care to dress her hair in the mode 
 which Lord N. used to admire; and Lio- 
 nel asked, as he adjusted his neckcloth at 
 the glass, whether the sister was pretty 
 as well as rich.
 
 92 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 ^'I am glad," said Mrs. Arlington, 
 ** that you did not ask whether she was 
 rich as well as pretty. If yon had, I should 
 have thought that you had not associated 
 with Sir Mordaunt ^Villiams with im- 
 punity, as he would so have worded his 
 question." 
 
 "Do you know Sir Mordaunt.^" re- 
 plied Lionel blushing. 
 
 "I know him well, and I also know 
 Lord N. ) and I assure you and Miss Der- 
 ville, that your dear m.other never de • 
 served your love and gratitude more than 
 when she resisted the pleadings of my old 
 acquaintance Lady Lucy Donellan, and 
 took you from London." 
 
 Both the brother and the sister looked 
 abashed at these words, and wished their 
 mother had not been so communicative : 
 still, there was something in Mrs. Arhng- 
 ton's manner which so strongly invited 
 confidence, that they felt they should 
 themselves have found it difhcult to have
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 93 
 
 concealed from her any thing which she 
 wished to know. 
 
 The dinner party passed off pleasantly ; 
 though Jane was disappointed of the ad- 
 miration which she expected^ as Colonel 
 Ornie, a fashionable man, paid more at- 
 tention to the handsome mother than the 
 handsome daughter; and on Miss Orme, 
 Lionel's well-tied neckcloth and his hand- 
 some person were wholly thrown away ; 
 as she was a complete votary of rank and 
 fashion, and a Mr. Derville, a person 
 whom she had never heard of before, 
 could not possibly engage her attention. 
 The case would have been different had 
 Lionel boasted of his intimacy with Sir 
 Mordaunt WiUiams, LordN., and so on ; 
 for then she would have talked to him 
 with delighted volubility of such "exqui- 
 site loves," and have even thought a Mr. 
 Derville *' must be somebody, and some- 
 thing charming, to be known by such 
 men ;" but the Ormes had left London
 
 94 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 before the Dervilles arrived there. An 
 opportunity of exhibiting this trait in her 
 character was afforded Miss Orme at the 
 close of the evening. Mrs. Arlington, 
 though she declined singing herself, press- 
 ed her willing guests to perform: and on 
 Jane's being requested to sing a duet with 
 her brother, Lionel said, " Let us sing 
 that duet which Lord N. was so fond of." 
 
 These words operated like an electric 
 stroke on Miss Orme; and turning quickly 
 round, she said to Lionel, "Dear me! do 
 you know Lord N ?'' 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," was the laconic reply : 
 for Lionel could not say, " I have that 
 honour." 
 
 " Oh ! do pray sing his favourite, it 
 must be charming. Is not lie quite a love .^" 
 
 Before Lionel could answer so strange 
 a question, Airs. Arlington replied for 
 him, " Quite a love ! — It is a very old love 
 then, and he must be the grandfather of 
 the loves."
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 95 
 
 " I know you never liked hiin," return- 
 ed Miss Orme ; " but I dare say this gen- 
 tleman does, and those ladies." 
 
 Again Mrs. Arlington interfered, to the 
 great relief of her guests : '• Very likely, 
 for they only knew Lord N. by his repu- 
 tation for great abilities and his insi- 
 nuating manners ; but you and I, Eliza, 
 know more of him, you know. Yes," she 
 continued; " they know Lord N., and they 
 also knew Sir Mordaunt Williams, and 
 other of your worthies, and they met them 
 at the house of Lady Lucy Donellan." 
 
 '' Of Lady Lucy l! O dear ! novy tell 
 me, is she not delightful .^"exclaimed Miss 
 Orme. 
 
 *' Is she not quite a love, or the grand- 
 mother of the loves?" rejoined Mrs. Ar- 
 lington laughing. — But a truce with these 
 rapturous questions, and let us hear Lord 
 N's favourite duet." 
 
 It was sung, and Miss Orme was in 
 raptures with it; but she took care to add, 
 lest she should be too gracious, that she
 
 96 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 should like to hear Miss Stephens and 
 Braham sing it, or Mrs. Salmon and 
 Vaughan, and then it would be per- 
 fect. 
 
 *^ I am by no means sure, Sophia^ that 
 you v/ould kno^v they were singing it, un- 
 less you were told so," said lier brother^ 
 ashamed of her rudeness; " as you know 
 you luive no ear whatever : but I am sure 
 that you never heard this duet so well sung, 
 by amateurs before. But now I hope, 
 Mrs. Arlington, we may hear you-.^" 
 
 "No, excuse me," she replied; *^ my 
 nerves are not strong enough this evening 
 to allow me to sing before Isliss Orme; for 
 I sliQuid fancy she was tliinklng how Mrs. 
 Salmon would have sung the song, and I 
 must shrink from such a comparison." 
 
 Miss Orme, darting an angry glance 
 at her brother and Mrs. Arlington, was 
 beginning to defend lier calumniated 
 ear wlien their carriage was announced ; 
 and after a hurried and ungracious adieu 
 from Miss Orme, and the last fashion-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 97 
 
 able bow in perfection from the colonel, 
 the visitors departed ; and a feeling of 
 relief seemed to extend itself through the 
 whole party: though Mrs. Arlington was 
 too benevolent to declare that she rejoiced 
 in their departure, and her guests were 
 too conscious of propriety to say it. 
 
 The next day one of her servants came 
 in to inform Mrs. Derville that her car- 
 riage was mended, and begged to know 
 at v.'hat time the next morning she would 
 want post horses. This intelligence 
 threw a visible gloom over the faces of 
 the travellers ; and Mrs. Arlington eager- 
 ly expressed her hope that Mrs. Derville 
 had made up her mind to stay over the 
 next evening, and to her musical party. 
 
 Mrs. Derville hesitated. Again her 
 children looked at her with asking eyes. 
 '^ It really is so tempting; an invitation ; 
 — it will be so long before we hear music 
 again," broke from her unreluctant lips ; 
 w'hile perhaps in her heart the tempta- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 tion lay in the opportunity of making, 
 not of hearing music, and of gratifying 
 her own and her children's newly acquired 
 love of display. 
 
 " I would not press you to do what is 
 unpleasant to you," said her kind hostess ; 
 *' but I shall be sorry to part with you 
 whenever you go ; and I think I have 
 such an entertainment to offer you to- 
 morrow, that for your sake and my own 
 I wish to detain you ; and as you did not, 
 I understand, tell Mr. Derville to expect 
 you with certainty at any particular time, 
 I feel justified in urging you to stay 
 longer." 
 
 Mrs. Derville blushed, and avoided 
 Mrs. Arlington's penetrating glance; for 
 she knew that she had assured Mr. Der- 
 ville that she should be at home at a par- 
 ticular time : but as Mrs. Arlington did 
 not know that she had done so, and she 
 was desirous to stay, she resolved to write 
 to Mr. Derville by that day's post^ and
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 99 
 
 to oblige herself, her children, and her 
 hostess. She therefore told the servant 
 she should not want the horses till the 
 day after the next : and the pleasures and 
 agreeable occupations of the morning 
 were resumed with fresh alacrity by the 
 gratified Jane and Lionel, though their 
 mother's enjoyment w^as clouded over by 
 a feeling of self-blame which she could 
 not conquer. 
 
 Mary Ann, except on the first dny, 
 had always dined by herself at an early 
 hour, but she regularly came in at the 
 dessert. This day, however, she would 
 not stay away till the dishes were set on 
 the table; bat she made her appearance 
 before her maid thought it was proper for 
 her to go down ; and then instead of sta- 
 tioning herself at Mrs. Arlington's elbow, 
 she hung about her mother's chair in evi- 
 dent discomposure. 
 
 *' What is the matter, my dear child .^ " 
 f2
 
 100 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 said Mrs.Derville ; " What has happened 
 to vex you ?'* 
 
 " O mamma ! Jenny says we are not 
 going away to-morrow." 
 
 *' Well, my dear, and what then ?- Are 
 you not very happy here .^" replied Mrs. 
 Derville with a heightened colour. 
 
 " O, yes — but — but — I want so much 
 to see dear papa 1 " 
 
 " Come hither to me, my sweet child,*'' 
 said Mrs. Arlington kindly ; and the 
 child obeyed the summons. *' And so 
 you had rather go home to dear papa 
 than stay with me, and go on the water 
 and gather flowers^ and play on the 
 lawn.^" 
 
 "I can gather flowers and play about 
 at home ; and there I have Nelly, and my 
 rabbits, and papa too !" 
 
 " Though last, not least, I trust," said 
 Mrs. Arlington smiling : '' but, my 
 dear, I am going to have company to-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 101 
 
 morrow, and fine music ; and mamma 
 and your brother and sister wish to stay 
 and hear it, and I wish they should." 
 
 *' But I shall be in bed, and shall not 
 hear it ; and papa will be so disappointed ! 
 for he expects us, you know." 
 
 " No, I know the contrary : Mamma 
 did not tell him to expect you." 
 
 ** Indeed but she did though," eagerly 
 replied the little girl ; *' for I saw the 
 letter. — Did you not, mamma .^" 
 
 ^' Yes, I did," answered Mrs. Derville 
 in great confusion ; " but I am going to 
 write this evening to say that we shall not 
 arrive till the day after I first men- 
 tioned." 
 
 An immediate and almost an appall- 
 ing change took place in the fine coun- 
 tenance of Mrs. Arlington; and after a 
 pause she said, " Then Mr. Derville is 
 expecting you at a fixed time, is he .^ 
 Poor man ! Had I known that, I cer-
 
 102 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 tainly should not have urged you to stay 
 here." 
 
 She said w^- more. But in spite of her 
 habitual courtesy it was evident to her 
 guests that she was considerably discon- 
 certed, and that while she fondly caress- 
 ed Mary Ann, her eyes avoided theirs. 
 The ice, the fruit, the cakes, and some 
 sweet wine, soon banished from Mary 
 Ann's mind, for the present, the sense 
 of her disappointment, and the child be- 
 came the only talkative person of the 
 party. 
 
 *' I do not think," she observed to 
 Mrs. Arlington, " that you have any dog 
 as handsome as mine. I wo ^der whether 
 she will know me ! I dare say the rab- 
 bits will not." 
 
 " If they do not, they will be very glad 
 to see you, however, if you give them 
 ciibbage-leaves," replied Mrs. Arling- 
 ton : " and there is one person who will
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 103 
 
 certainly know you — and that is dear 
 papa." 
 
 " O yes — that he will — though mam- 
 ma says I am much grown." 
 
 *' But not altered," answered Mrs. 
 Arlington : *' a London journey has made 
 no change in you." 
 
 A sigh from Mrs. Derville showed that 
 she took this observation to herself ; and 
 as her heart told her that it applied in a 
 degree, she felt something like resent- 
 ment against the observer. 
 
 Mrs. Arlington rose soon after, and the 
 ladies adjourned to the drawing-room ; 
 and for the first time they found it difficult 
 to find conversation. Lionel too for the 
 first time felt reluctant to join them there. 
 
 He saw the effect which Mary Ann's 
 artless communications had had on Mrs. 
 Arhngton ; and he was nearly equally 
 averse to blame his beloved mother, and 
 his till now most kind and smiling 
 hostess.
 
 104 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 He conquered his feelings, however, 
 and joined the party, to resume his de- 
 lightful task of reading aloud one of Miss 
 Edgeworth's tales^ while the ladies work- 
 ed; — and while listening to moral truths 
 told in the most impressive manner, Mrs. 
 Arlington's ruffled brow became a little 
 smoothed. 
 
 But it was only a little. She had an 
 exquisite sense of moral beauty ; and it 
 was the apparent attachment of Mrs. 
 Derville to her husband and her children 
 which had interested her so strongly in 
 her favoiu*, and added power to the love- 
 liness of her person, and the graceful 
 simplicity of her manners. 
 
 It w;»s the happy wife, conscious of her 
 own happiness and loving exclusively 
 the cause of it, who had endeared her- 
 self to Mrs. Arlington ; and now that 
 she found the allureuients of amusement, 
 and tlie temptations periiaps of vanity, 
 could lead this envijible wife to disap-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 105 
 
 point her expecting husband, and even 
 cheerfully to consent to prolong an al- 
 ready long separation from him^ that mo- 
 ral sense was so painfully wounded, and 
 Mrs. Derville became so lowered in her 
 opinion, that even if she had desired to 
 do so, she could not have concealed her 
 disappointment. Besides, though she 
 acquitted Mrs. Derville of lying, she did 
 not of disingenuousness. She had taken 
 it for granted, untold^ that Mrs. Der- 
 ville did not tell her husband to expect 
 her on a particular day : but then, though 
 Mrs. Derville saw she was in an error, 
 she did not rectify her mistake ; and 
 wherefore did she not.^ From a conscious- 
 ness that she was not acting quite right 
 towards this admirable husband. 
 
 After tea, as usual, they adjourned to 
 the music-room, and the travellers en- 
 deavoured to sing — but their spirits were 
 depressed ; and though they sung, it was 
 F 5
 
 106 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 evident that tliey had rather not. They 
 now again asked Mrs. Arlington, who 
 had played to them both on the harp and 
 piano-forte in a very masterly style, to 
 favour them with a song also : but this, 
 for reasons stated above, she had hither- 
 to declined; and her guests imagined 
 that she did so, because conscious that 
 her talent for singing was considerably 
 inferior to her talent for playing. 
 
 But now, so far from wishing to spare 
 them any feeling of alarm or mortifica- 
 tion for their sakes, she wished rather to 
 inflict it ; and at least to convince them 
 that this party, for which they had been 
 so willing to defer the pleasure of return- 
 ing home, and to disappoint the heart 
 that loved them, was one in which their 
 talents would not be wanted, and that they 
 would have been more glad to listen at it, 
 than to perform. Accordingly she sat 
 down to the piano-forte, and sung one of
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 107 
 
 the finest and most difficult songs of 
 Mozart in the style of a professor^ while 
 her voice, at once rich in tone and of 
 great compass, appeared to them the 
 finest they had ever heard; and they 
 looked at each other with wonder not 
 unmixed with consternation : nor, when 
 she had done, could they find words to 
 thank her. She next sung at their re- 
 quest one of Handel's songs, and in a 
 style of equal though different excellence. 
 Again they pressed her, and she sung a 
 cavatina of Paesiello's, which she accom- 
 panied on the harp. A simple ballad 
 succeeded, of which the words and air 
 were her own composition : — the words 
 were as follows — 
 
 SONG. 
 
 To love thee was the easiest task 
 
 Affection ever taught me ; 
 But now I'm forced with smiles to mask 
 
 The woe that task has wrought me.
 
 108 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 I saw thee fond, and thought thee irue, 
 
 And swiftly flew my hours ; 
 But oil ! I wove a wreath of rue, 
 
 Which I mistook for floweis. 
 
 Then go ! deceiver, haste away ! ' 
 
 To me be lost for ever. 
 Since 1 am doom'd to hail the day 
 
 That ^hall our fortunes sever. 
 
 Yes, go ! nor let me see again 
 
 That smile — love's treacherous token ; 
 
 Lest I once more resume my chain, 
 And this poor heart be broken. 
 
 " How could you, my dear madam," 
 said Mrs. Derville at last, " allow us to 
 expose ourselves before you as we have 
 done ?'' 
 
 " If I had thought that you exposed 
 yourselves, I would not have suffered you 
 to do it, as I have no pleasure in seeing 
 persons degrade themselves. You have 
 sweet voices, good expression ; you sing 
 in perfect tune, and I had great pleasure
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 109 
 
 in hearing you; nor can I doubt that if 
 you had had such instructions as I have 
 been able to procure, you would have 
 sung as well as I do." 
 
 '' But why have you deprived us so 
 long of the pleasure and improvement of 
 hearing you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I had my private reasons ; and 
 now, if you please, you must sing to me." 
 
 " Oh, no — not after you — we can ne- 
 ver now sing before you again." 
 
 '^ There, nov/ you see the reason why 
 I did not sing before. I knew that a 
 mixture of vanity and humility would de- 
 prive me of the satisfaction of hearing 
 you, and therefore I would not sing. — 
 But come, let us finish with the last 
 chorus in La Clemenza di Tito, and I 
 will take the solo parts. I will not ask 
 Lionel to sing ' Ah ! perdonna ! ' with 
 me, for I know he would be too much 
 alarmed to do it ; but he shall hear me 
 sing it with a first-rate gentleman singer
 
 110 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 to-morrow, and I expect some fine pro- 
 fessional singers also." 
 
 The perturbed amateurs blundered 
 through the chorus ; and no longer anti- 
 cipating the musical party with very ve- 
 hement satisfaction, as soon as prayers 
 were over, they wished their hostess good 
 night, and retired to their rooms. 
 
 When there^ the complicated feelings 
 of Mrs. Derville vented themselves in 
 tears. She had lowered herself in Mrs. 
 Arlington's esteem, and perhaps in her 
 own — and she had probably wounded the 
 heart of her husband — and all for what ? 
 For an amusement which probably would 
 be productive both to her and her chil- 
 dren of more pain than pleasure. True 
 she should delight to hear such fine sing- 
 ing and such fine music, and to see Mrs. 
 Arlington's splendid rooms lighted up 
 and filled with company ; but the dread 
 of being asked to perform herself would 
 damp her enjoyment the whole evenings
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 1 1 1 
 
 and it would be nearly as painful to her 
 to refuse the request of Mrs. Arlington 
 as to comply. And had she been true to 
 the whispers of affection — true to the just 
 claims of her husband ; instead of un- 
 dergoing this week but real distress, she 
 would have been at that moment within 
 less than half a day's journey of home, 
 and the husband whom, spite of her in- 
 consistency of conduct, she loved with 
 the tenderest affection . 
 
 Many, bitter — but salutary — were the 
 tears which Mrs. Derville shed that night, 
 and the prayers of a thankful were mixed 
 with those of a contrite spirit. 
 
 The next morning she arose very early, 
 and went into the apartments of both her 
 son and daughter before they were up ; 
 and after she had unburthened her mind 
 to them, she went down to breakfast, and 
 met Mrs. Arlington's altered eye — for 
 spite of herself altered it was, — with a 
 firm and cheerful glance. 
 
 Breakfast had not been long begun
 
 112 MRS. abungton; OR, 
 
 when one of the servants came in and 
 told Mrs. Derville that the horses would, 
 be at the door in two hours. 
 
 " Horses ! what does this mean ?" 
 cried Mrs. ArHngton. 
 
 *^ That we are going to-day," calmly 
 replied Mrs. Derville. " Nay, my dear 
 madam," continued she, seeing Mrs. 
 , Arlington was going to speak^ " I am 
 sure, though you are surprised, you are 
 pleased, for I know you think it my duty 
 to go. 
 
 '' I do," frankly replied Mrs. Arling- 
 ton ; " and I am pleased, though self- 
 ishly I hate to part with you : but when 
 I think of what a being you are return- 
 ing to — a loved and loving husband — 
 and the safe happiness of a wedded and 
 retired home, then I can only envy you 
 your privileged lot, and bid God speed 
 you on your way !" 
 
 As she said this, Mrs. Arlington affec- 
 tionately grasped Mrs. Derville's hand, 
 while every trace of coldness had vanish-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 113 
 
 ed from her eye and from her manner, 
 and then turning to the window she 
 burst into tears. 
 
 Having soon reseated herself^ she said 
 smihngly through her tears, '* I trust 
 this is not om* last breakfast together." 
 
 " I hope not — earnestly hope not," 
 said Mrs. Derville with great emotion : 
 and Jane, who sat next to Mrs. Arling- 
 ton, echoed her mother's w^ords, and 
 leaned her head fondly on her shoulder. 
 
 " Perhaps you will come and see us 
 one day.^" said Lionel; *' only we have 
 nothing to tempt you." 
 
 *' Do you reckon yourselves as nothing; 
 and the sight of that rare thing domestic 
 happiness.^" 
 
 '' Do pray come," said Mary Ann, 
 hanofine: round her neck, " and I will 
 give you Nelly, if you wish it. But, no; 
 she would not like that perhaps ; so I 
 will bring up one of her puppies for 
 you.
 
 1 14 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 '' Thank you, dear child. So Nelly, 
 whom I always concluded to be your 
 nurse, turns out to be only a favourite 
 bitch — But pray how came she to be 
 called Nelly.?" 
 
 " You will be shocked to hear," replied 
 Mrs. Derville, " that Nelly is the abbre- 
 viation of the high and most respected 
 name of Cornelia — Cornelia, the mother 
 of the Gracchi, a great favourite with my 
 children." 
 
 *' Alas ! poor Cornelia! — Little' indeed 
 could I have expected to find aught of a 
 Roman matron in Nelly, a pet dog. It 
 reminds me of what Pope says, in his 
 Epistle on Medals, on Rome — 
 
 ^ And all her triumphs sink into a coin.' 
 
 ** But come, Mrs. Derville, while these 
 young persons are preparing for their de- 
 parture, let us have a ttte-a-tcte stroll 
 together over the grounds." And taking 
 her arm, Mrs. Arlington led Mrs. Der-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 115 
 
 ville to a favourite walk along the banks 
 of the river. They were soon engrossed 
 in very interesting conversation ; for Mrs. 
 Arlington, from some view of her own, 
 wished to learn the future destination of 
 Lionel ; and as openness on one subject 
 leads to similar openness on another, 
 Mrs. Derville had told her questioner 
 that Jane had a lover, a young clergy- 
 man, with a good living in prospect ; but 
 she added that she must confess Jane 
 had been so much admired in London, 
 that she wished her not to be in a hurry 
 to form so very moderate a marriage for 
 a young woman of her person and con- 
 nexions. 
 
 " Is her lover well-principled, well- 
 educated, amiable, and fine-tempered ? " 
 asked Mrs. Arlington eagerly. 
 
 '* O yes ! and very good-looking too, 
 and very clever " 
 
 *' And are you sure he loves your 
 daughter with a 7'eal passion ?''
 
 116 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 " O yes ! and he has loved her from 
 childhood." 
 
 '' My dear Airs. Derville," said Mrs. 
 Arlington with almost solemn earnest- 
 ness, '■' then let me conjure you not to 
 be so fatally bUnd to your daughter's true 
 welfare and happiness, as to wish for a 
 moment to retard a union like this, when 
 the lover is old enough to take the living 
 designed for him, from the hope of her 
 forming a higher connexion. Are you 
 not happy in your station ? and have you 
 ever repented that in the pride of your 
 youth and your beauty, and of your for- 
 tune too, you preferred Mr. Derville to 
 his opulent rival ?'' 
 
 '' Never ; for my lot has been blessed 
 beyond that of women in general." 
 
 *' And why may not your daughter's 
 be so too .^ Wliy show — where your child 
 is concerned — the weak ambition which 
 in your own case you so properly scorn- 
 ed .^ Oh ! I have this subject much at
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 117 
 
 heart. But I see that in your thick dress 
 the heat of the day oppresses you : let us 
 get into the boat, and then we can pass 
 ourselves over to that shady seat on the 
 opposite bank ; for unfortunately there is 
 not one of the servants or gardeners 
 within call or even in sight, an unusual 
 circumstance." 
 
 *' Let me take the oars then," said 
 Mrs. Derville, jumping into the boat; 
 '' as I dare say I am more used to row 
 than you." And as she spoke, Mrs. Ar- 
 lington prepared to follow her; but before 
 Mrs. Derville's hand reached hers, to 
 assist her into the boat, Mrs. Arlington's 
 foot slipped, and she fell headlong into 
 the river — and at the deepest part. For 
 an instant, terror nearly deprived Mrs. 
 Derville of recollection ; but when she 
 saw Mrs. Arlington rise again, her pre- 
 sence of mind returned, and she conjured 
 her not to attempt to get into the boat, 
 . but desired her to cling to its stern; then.
 
 i 18 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 recollecting that she had observed the 
 water was shallow where she had stopped 
 to examine an aquatic plant, she made 
 for this place as fast as her strength would 
 allow, still urging Mrs. Arlington, whom 
 fear had nearly deprived of her senses, to 
 keep her hold. It was a time of terrible 
 suspense to Mrs. Derville, till she saw 
 by the well-remembered flowers that 
 she was drawing near the shallow water : 
 but before she could reach it, Mrs. Ar- 
 lington loosed her hold, and sunk again. 
 By this time however Mrs. Derville had 
 reached the place of comparative safety;] 
 andhaving jumped out of the boat on the 
 bank, she waded into the river, seized 
 the insensible Mrs. Arlington by her long 
 hair, which now floated on the stream, and, 
 certainly at some risk to herself, dragged 
 her to the sloping bank, where half her 
 person lay out of the water : but to ex- ■ 
 tricate her friend entirely was beyond her I 
 power, nor dared she leave her an instant
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 119 
 
 lest she should fall into the river again. 
 She could therefore do nothing but 
 scream violently for assistance ; and in a 
 few moments Lionel, who was on his way 
 in search of them, appeared in sight, 
 and hastened to her assistance, while ser- 
 vants soon after came running in all di- 
 rections ; but were at first too terrified 
 and too wretched to be able to act at 
 sight of their lady lying apparently dead 
 on the grass, where Lionel had placed her. 
 But on Mrs . Derville's assurance that there 
 had not been time for the water which 
 she had swallowed to have proved fatal, 
 and that she had probably only fainted 
 from exhaustion and alarm, they assist- 
 ed in bearing her to the house ; where 
 in a few minutes the usual remedies re- 
 stored her. Her first inquiry was for 
 Mrs. Derville, into whose arms she threw 
 herself, with a look more eloquent than 
 words, and sobbed for some moments, 
 with grateful tenderness, on her bosom.
 
 120 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 *^ This lady's presence of mind and 
 exertions saved my life," said she to those 
 around her ; " but for her I should never 
 have opened my eyes again." 
 
 Lionel and Jane felt and looked de- 
 lighted at hearing this; and Mrs. Der- 
 viile, who would have spoken, was choked 
 into silence by the various " God-bless- 
 you-ma'ams" which met her ears on every 
 side — some murmured out, some sobbed 
 out, and some audibly pronounced, from 
 the anxious and grateful domestics,; who 
 now, however, as well as Mrs. Derviile, in- 
 sisted on Mrs. Arlington's sending for ad- 
 vice, and going instantly into a warm bed, 
 a precaution which Mrs. Derviile herself 
 also consented to do, as she too Vv'as wet 
 through, and was now beginning to sliake 
 in every limb, from strong emotion, and 
 the painful chilliness which it induces. 
 
 But though she patiently submitted 
 to be undressed and to go to bed, and 
 take some hot v;ine and spices, Mrs.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 121 
 
 Derville could not attempt to sleep, or 
 even to lie qniet ; and after she had 
 returned thanks, heartfelt thanks, for 
 havhig been made the instrument of 
 saving a fellow-creature's life — and such 
 a being too — she insisted on seeing 
 Lionel and Jane ; having resolved to 
 persist in going away as soon after the 
 appointed hour as circumstances would 
 permit, unless Mrs. Arlington should be 
 seriously ill in consequence of her acci- 
 dent : and after lying an hour she arose, 
 being more refreshed by the information 
 that Mrs. Arlington was declared by the 
 surgeon, who had just left her, to be no 
 sufferer in any way from what had passed 
 — than by any cordial which could have 
 been administered to her. 
 
 And it was fortunate indeed for her 
 that both her friend and herself were so 
 well ; for the letters were now brought in ; 
 as, had it not been so, their contents 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 would have been even more distressing 
 than she now found them. 
 
 One was from Mr. Derville, and one 
 from a friend of his. She read her hus- 
 band's first. It was short, but very af- 
 fectionate ; and expressed his willingness 
 to bear her prolonged absence as long 
 awS she felt happy to remain where she 
 was : and she almost wished she had not 
 ordered the horses. But when she read 
 the letter of his friend, her agitation and 
 her tears were so great as to alarm her 
 children ; and having just been informed 
 that Mrs. Arlington wished to see her, she 
 went to her bedside, gave her the letter, 
 and ran out of the room. 
 
 Derville, on a principle of generous 
 and considerate affection, had not told 
 his wife of the fever in the village, even 
 after it had entirely subsided ; as he 
 thought that if it did not hasten her home, 
 it might still cloud over her pleasure
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 123 
 
 with some fond though ill-founded fears 
 for him : therefore, though lie really 
 wanted a little nursing after the fatigues 
 which he had undergone, he resolved to 
 say nothing to abridge his beloved wife 
 and children of the term of their promised 
 enjoyment. 
 
 But his friend and neighbour Mr. 
 Travers, who saw he looked ill, was not 
 so forbearing; and he not only in his letter 
 wished Mrs. Derville to return as soon 
 as she could, but, giving way to his feel- 
 ings of admiration for her exemplary hus- 
 band, he told her the reason why he had 
 urged her sudden departure with all her 
 children for the metropolis ; why he had 
 urged her to prolong her stay there ; and 
 expatiated largely on the admirable and 
 efhcacious manner in which, while she 
 was enjoying the pleasures of a town life, 
 he was performing to the utmost the 
 duties of a Christian minister to his sick 
 and suffering parishioners. 
 g2
 
 124 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 As Mrs. Arlington finished this letter, 
 (which she read in broken accents to the 
 weeping Jane, while Lionel, choked with 
 emotion which the pride of manhood 
 made him desirous to conceal, had been 
 listening to his agitated mother's ac- 
 count of the same intelhgence,) Mrs. 
 Derville re-entered the room ; and seeing 
 Mrs. Arlington was greatly aifected, she 
 exclaimed in an agony of tears, 
 
 '' Only think ! I might have lost 
 him ! If he had caught the infection, 
 he might " Tears choked her ut- 
 terance. '' But he did not catch it, 
 and he has been spared in mercy for the 
 good of others. Admirable, disinterested 
 
 man ! 
 
 '' I would go," added Mrs. Arlington 
 forcing a smile, *^ barefooted on a pil- J 
 grimage to Lovelands, only to look at ' 
 him ! " 
 
 " And I.... /^ did not make it my first | 
 pleasure to return to him ! But thank
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 125 
 
 Heaven I had fixed to go before this let- 
 ter came ! " 
 
 Mrs. Arlington pressed her hand ten- 
 derly, and said, *' I congratulate you on 
 having done so." 
 
 " But surely," resumed Mrs. Derville, 
 " you must think it was not right in him 
 to keep me in such entire ignorance of 
 what was going on ? He might have given 
 me my choice of going or staying." 
 
 " No, he has acted in the best pos- 
 sible manner ; and you are, I tell you, 
 the most enviable of women ! Utter not 
 a word against my hero, another good 
 bishop of Marseilles, as he appears to me, 
 — But are you ready to go ? For though 
 I shall miss you greatly, I am now quite 
 anxious for your departure." 
 
 They instantly left the room to prepare 
 for the arrival of the carriage : and Mrs. 
 Arlington rose in order to write a letter to 
 Mr. Derville, exhorting him, if change 
 of air was recommended to him, to come
 
 126 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 to the Lawn-house, and give her tlie 
 pleasure of knowing a man who more 
 than reahzed her ideas of what a husband, 
 a father, and a Christian teacher should 
 be. She then, with all the simple and 
 short pathos of true feeling, gave liim 
 an account of her obligations to his wife, 
 whom she justly called her preserver, and 
 who was consequently entitled to her eter- 
 nal gratitude. 
 
 . The carriage came to the door at last, 
 though now not fast enough for the im- 
 patience of Mrs. Derville. But to what 
 a revolution of feeling, and what new 
 emotions and sentiments had the changes 
 of a few hours now given birth ! Before, 
 the obligation was all on Mrs. Derville's 
 side ; now, Mrs . Arlington was the obliged 
 person, and had received from her a ser- 
 vice to which most others are weak. 
 
 '* I am not a woman of many words," 
 said Mrs. Arlington in faltering accents; 
 ** but I will prove my gratitude to you
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 127 
 
 by my actions. I will do for you what 
 I would on no consideration have done 
 for any one else — In time I will explain 
 myself." 
 
 Mrs. Derville's heart was too full to 
 speak ; and the new friends parted in 
 silence and in tears : but Jane returned 
 to repeat, for the tenth time, their united 
 entreaties that Mrs. Arlington would 
 write every day, to say how she was. 
 
 How much easier is it to act well in 
 difficult and strongly exciting circum- 
 stances, than to fulfil correctly the quiet 
 and nameless duties of every-day life ! 
 No consideration could have induced 
 Mrs. Derville to have left the side of her 
 husband during his perilous visits to the 
 chambers of disease and death ; and had 
 she heard of his dangers, while in the 
 midst of London dissipation, she would 
 have flown to him on the first whisper 
 of alarm. But the more easy and more 
 humble virtue of resigning an evening of
 
 128 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 projected pleasure and the triumphs of 
 vanity, in order to be restored to him 
 one day sooner, and prove her undecayed 
 affection by a httle sacrifice — one of those 
 little and habitual sacrifices which prove 
 affection^ even more than great ones do, 
 because no fame, no praise attends on the 
 performance of them : — to this she had 
 proved herself unequal ; nor could she 
 tear herself away from the fascinations 
 of London, till she feared for the peace 
 of one child, and for the morals of the 
 other. 
 
 But in the latter case the danger was 
 too strongly marked not to be avoided 
 directly, and the duty too evident not 
 to be instantly performed ; while the 
 other was a more remote duty, and the 
 danger attending on its non-performance 
 more imperceptible and more gradual. 
 T^Hien one meets a chimney-sweep in a 
 narrow path, one takes care to avoid the 
 certain and obvious contamination of his
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 129 
 
 touch ; but we are not conscious of the 
 more gradual and imperceptible, but as 
 certain, destruction of the purity of our 
 garments from dust and the common 
 effects of constant wear. 
 
 The travellers, who did not stop on the 
 road, got on rapidly till the evening 
 began to close in ; and then they were 
 forced to stop one stage before they meant 
 to do so, by the impossibihty of getting 
 horses to go on with. But luckily they 
 at this moment saw one of Derville's 
 parishioners who was returning home on 
 horseback ; and as Mrs. Derville's last 
 letter had told him not to expect her the 
 next day, she was very glad to be able to 
 send him word that she was within a feu 
 hours drive of home. 
 
 The next morning she was still de- 
 tained for want of horses ; and it was 
 evening before the hills that formed the 
 vale of Lovelands, the small lake which 
 sparkles in its bosom, and the velvet 
 g5
 
 130 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 lawn on which stood the vhie and honey- 
 suckle and covered parsonage, burst upon 
 their view. The hues of the setting 
 sun were diffusing over it a richer beauty, 
 and Lionel exclaimed, *' Oh ! this is far 
 more beautiful even than the Lawn- 
 house." 
 
 *' It is our home, so we ought to think 
 it so," said Jane, whose eye now wan- 
 dered in search of an object whom she 
 did not see, but who she thought might 
 be watching for the sight or the sound 
 of her chariot wheels. Mrs. Derville did 
 not speak ; her heart was too full for ut- 
 terance, especially as (on a hill which 
 commanded the winding of the road) she 
 discovered her husband watcliing for her 
 arrival. His delighted children eagerly 
 waved their handkerchiefs to him in token 
 of recognition ; but the more deeply- 
 feeling wife, after looking one moment 
 out of the front window, threw herself 
 into one corner of the carriage^ and hid
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 13^1 
 
 her face with her handkerchief. In a few 
 moments Derville descended the hill^ 
 and was at the gate to throw it open for 
 the admission of the travellers. He could 
 only look his welcome as they passed him, 
 but that look was eloquent. 
 
 Mrs. Derville when the carriage stop- 
 ped was quite overcome by various feel- 
 ings and recollections, and knew not how 
 she got into the house : but she recovered 
 to find herself leaning on the bosom of 
 her husband, and to meet again those 
 eyes of unabated love which had gazed 
 on her with equal tenderness through so 
 many endeared and happy years. What 
 was London with all its joys to that 
 moment of re-union ! She was now en- 
 circled by all she loved best in the world ; 
 and as her husband fervently exclaimed, 
 " They are restored to me in safety ! 
 Father of mercies, I thank thee!" she 
 echoed with quivering lip the impul-
 
 132 MRS. ARLINGTON* ; OR, 
 
 sive prayer, and felt with Mrs. Arling- 
 ton that she was indeed a woman to he 
 envied, 
 
 " But you look thin, Frederic!" said 
 Mrs. Derville anxiously, ** and rather 
 pale." 
 
 ** No wonder ; I have had hard duty 
 to perform." 
 
 " Do not talk of it — I can't bear to 
 think of the danger you have been in." 
 
 *^ You must think of it, that you may 
 be grateful for my escape. Oh ! ,they 
 were indeed trying scenes : and when 
 I returned home it was most trying ; 
 instead of finding an anxious and affec- 
 tionate wife to welcome me, and dear 
 attentive children, — to enter a solitary 
 dwelling, uncheered by the sight of domes- 
 tic comfort ! But I was supported under 
 it all ; and I was cheered by the consi- 
 deration that I was doing my duty, and 
 also by the blessed certainty that my wife
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 133 
 
 and children were beyond the reach of 
 the fatal contagion around me. But you 
 are all mine again, and my pain is well 
 repaid.'* 
 
 Mrs. Der\dlle was this evening too 
 full of the happiness of affection to draw 
 unfavourable comparisons between the 
 humble parsonage and more splendid 
 abodes ; though every now and then she 
 cast a measuring eye around her, and 
 thought, though she did not say it, " I 
 could not have beheved these rooms 
 were so small!" But poor Mary Ann 
 fancied that she had great cause for dis- 
 quiet, and she was loud in her expres- 
 sions of it ; for after the first joy of seeing 
 her had subsided, Nelly had left her to 
 return to her puppies, who came into the 
 world only the day before, and Mary 
 Ann could be pacified only by her 
 father's assurances that it would ill be- 
 come Cornelia to leave her young Grac- 
 chi long, on any occasion whatever.
 
 134 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 While the travellers were enjoying the 
 refreshment of tea after their journey, 
 Mrs. Derville, in answer to her husband's 
 question of **But, who is Mrs. ArHng- 
 ton ?'' put her letter to him in his hand, 
 saying, " Mrs. Arlington is an angel ! " 
 And Mr. Derville read with no incon- 
 siderable emotion the eulogy on his wife, 
 and the account of the service she had 
 received from her. 
 
 " Then it is really so, is it, and you did 
 save her life ? Mary Ann told me just 
 now that Mrs. Arlington fell into the 
 w^ater, and she verily believed but for 
 you she would have been drowned: but I 
 really thought the dear child spoke 
 probably from the exaggerated accounts 
 of the servants, as she did not see the 
 scene." 
 
 *'0h no, indeed,|father,"|^cried Lionel 
 and Jane, eager to do honour to their mo- 
 ther, and to do her the justice she deserv- 
 ed; ''My mother*s presence of mind did
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 135 
 
 indeed save her life : and when she reco- 
 vered, it was the first thing Mrs. Arhng- 
 ton said to her servants — * Take notice, 
 this lady saved my life. 
 
 Derville looked at his eager and affec- 
 tionate children with a glistening and 
 approving eye, and then bestowed most 
 eloquent and gratifying praise on his 
 wife, and earnest congratulations on the 
 result of her self-possession ; forgetting 
 wholly, that if she from a simple exertion 
 of presence of mind was so worthy of 
 such tender encomiums, and deserving 
 as Mrs. Arlington said of her eternal 
 gratitude, how great, how ardent, and 
 how extensive must be the praises which 
 he deserved, and how eternal ought to 
 be the gratitude, to which he had a 
 claim, from the many poor and humble 
 individuals whom his care and his boun- 
 ties had been the visible means of saving 
 from the grave; — saved, too, by the per- 
 petual recurrence of personal danger
 
 136 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 to himself! But Derville, though ever 
 aHve to merit in others, never thought 
 of his own ; and simply because his ac- 
 tions were never prompted by the wish 
 to deserve the applause of man : he acted 
 on a higher principle and a nobler am- 
 bition ; and really, while he admired his 
 wife's meritorious presence of mind and 
 resolute exertions to preserve Mrs. Ar- 
 lington, he was not conscious that, 
 though there was more of tclat, and of 
 stage effect, in what she had done, — his 
 life for a succession of days had been 
 marked by efforts more trying, more 
 painful, and more virtuous, and followed 
 by results full as worthy of congratula- 
 tions such as he was now bestowing on 
 Mrs. Derville. 
 
 How happily and how rapidly flew that 
 evening! — -how impossible was it for 
 Mrs. Derville to regret London, or even 
 the Lawn-house and its conveniences! 
 But the next day when Mrs. Denille sat
 
 ALL LS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 137 
 
 down to dinner she could not help saying, 
 ** I cannot bear that plain queen's ware, 
 I must get ^ set of the blue china." And 
 when she desired the maid servant who 
 waited to change her plate, she observed 
 that '* it seemed so strange to be waited 
 on at table by a female servant, as she had 
 been so long used to footmen.'* 
 
 "True," saidDerville, "you kept a foot- 
 man in London, and occasionally had 
 horses to the carriage. That was really 
 living in some sort of style, and as you 
 would always have lived, had not Anna 
 Pointz, been a pretty idiot, and preferred 
 the gratifications of love to those of am- 
 bition." 
 
 This allusion to past seasons was well 
 timed ; it dissipated the returning wish 
 for style beyond her reach ; and looking on 
 her husband with eyes that did justice to 
 her feelings, she replied, ^' Anna Der- 
 ville has never yet repented, nor ever can, 
 the choice of Anna Pointz. No, Mr. Der-
 
 138 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 ville, whatever else may have been my 
 weaknesses, I have never had a vision of 
 grandeur unshared with you ! " And while 
 she spoke, tears filled her eyes, and her 
 voice faltered with emotion. — Dervillewas 
 surprised, and he might have quoted the 
 French proverb. Qui s excuse, s accuse. 
 *' My dearest love," said he, "I never 
 suspected you /tad imagined any happi- 
 ness independent of me as a sharer in it, 
 and I never suspected or accused you of 
 any weaknesses. " 
 
 " Oh no, that I am sure you never did," 
 said the self-upbraided wife : *' yet weak 
 I have been, very weak : — but I will tell 
 you all." 
 
 Derville was confounded ; and he look- 
 ed at his children, as if to remind his 
 wife of their presence ; yet he felt assured 
 that the weakness could not be much 
 which she was so willing to own before 
 such witnesses. "Well, my dear, well," 
 said he, after a pause ; " if it will be any
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 139 
 
 relief to your mind to confess to me, I 
 will certainly listen to you ; else I should 
 be quite easy to hear no more, as my 
 confidence in you is entire and un- 
 bounded." 
 
 It is impossible to account for the in- 
 consistencies of human feeling. Flatter- 
 ing to her best feelings as her husband's 
 declared coniidence in her must be, 
 Mrs. Derville was rather mortified that 
 her husband was not a little, a very little 
 jealous ; and she wished^ as she had often 
 done before, that he had seen how much 
 she had been admired in London. 
 
 The next impulse was to exclaim, 
 *' O\i,apropos! you remember that I wrote 
 you word I saw Lord L. in London ? " 
 
 ^' A-propos to what.^" replied Der- 
 ville, a shade passing across his brow, 
 and a deep flush overspreading his cheek: 
 " Not a-propos to your weaknesses, I con- 
 clude .^ " he added with a smile.
 
 140 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 Mrs. Derville now blushed with some- 
 what of an indignant feehng, because she 
 felt angry that he could for a moment 
 entertain a jealous doubt. But it was 
 indeed only for a moment ; and Derville's 
 heart instantly reproached him, while with 
 the most perfect ease he said, *' Well, 
 and how does Lord L. look ? Does the 
 peerage become him, and he the peerage ? 
 and did he ask for me ? Till we became 
 rivals, he was, you know, very fond of 
 me. ' 
 
 ** You ask mc o^ many questions at 
 once," said Mrs. Derville rather crossly, 
 " I do not know which to answer first. 
 Lord L. looks old for his years ; but his 
 manners are the same. He is not ren- 
 dered proud by the accession of rank. — 
 He did ask after you when we first met ; 
 but though I often saw him, I did not 
 often converse with him." 
 
 "No! How strange! I should have
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 141 
 
 thought it must have been so pleasant to 
 you to meet with an old friend amongst 
 strangers !" 
 
 " To meet with an old friend merely, 
 would have been so ; but " 
 
 Here she was interrupted by Jane's 
 exclaiming, " Lord L. ! Oh! that was 
 the gentleman, manmia^ who used to 
 look so fixedly at you, and quite discon- 
 cert you by his gaze ; — and then he used 
 to sigh so deeply." 
 
 " Yes ; and when you used to sing," 
 said Lionel^ " he used to hold his head 
 on one side and look so ridiculously 
 affected." 
 
 At another time Derville would have 
 chidden his son for speaking severely of 
 any one ; but now he was not sorry to 
 hear him say that Lord L. looked ridi- 
 culous and affected. 
 
 '' Is this true, Anna .^" said he smiling. 
 ^^ Did Lord L. exhibit these symptoms 
 of still existing love.^"
 
 142 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " O fie ! it was very wrong in him. 
 However, poor man, I ought to pity him, 
 and do most sincerely." 
 
 ''But you would not have had me 
 converse much with him, I suppose ?'' 
 
 " No, certainly not ; and I commend 
 you for not doing so, as, untold, I am 
 sure you did not." 
 
 " On the contrary I avoided convers- 
 ing v.'ith him, as I resented his boldness 
 in daring to betray feeUngs which it v/as 
 culpable in him to feel, and degrading to 
 me to witness the expression of." 
 
 " Poor Lord L. 1" cried Derville ; ''' tmd 
 so not even his coronet could procure him 
 one smile in reward of his obtruded con- 
 stancy ? I am sure tlien I do not envy 
 him his peerage, Anna !" 
 
 '' It is a fine thing to be a peer, Der- 
 ville, and I have often caught myself of 
 late wishing you were one." 
 
 " Me a peer!"
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 143 
 
 " Yes ; — are not bishops peers ?" 
 *' And do you really wish me a bishop, 
 Anna ? Do you wish to leaye this peace- 
 ful retreat, in which we have been so 
 happy?" 
 
 "I do sometimes ; though I never 
 wished to be Lady L." 
 
 " Well, well," said Derville, '' I must, 
 I see, forgive you w^hat you have wished, 
 in favour of what you have not." 
 
 " Why, papa," cried Jane, " what 
 merit is there in mammals not wishing 
 herself married to Lord L. ? You are 
 ten times younger-looking and hand- 
 somer than he is ; and when I have 
 taught you to tie your neckcloth as Lord 
 N. does — '' she continued, fondly hang- 
 ing about him as she spoke — 
 
 " And when /," said Lionel (smooth- 
 ing down his dark and glossy hair) 
 " have taught you to brush your hair in 
 front (i'la-mode de Sir Mordaunt Wil- 
 liams and myself — why then — "
 
 144 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 " Why the?!,'' cried Derville laughing, 
 " you will have made me an old cox- 
 comb ! " 
 
 '' Old ! old, papa ! I am sure I did not 
 see any man to compare to you during 
 my absence, not even in beauty ; — fashion, 
 you know, is another thing." 
 
 ^* But come, Anna^ is there no altera- 
 tion in your old-fashioned husband that 
 you wish to make ?" cried Derville as his 
 wife drew near the affectionate group. 
 
 *' None," said she, as she threw her- 
 self into his extended arms : ** Thou 
 hastno faults, or I no faults can spy." x^nd 
 again Mrs. Derville retired to rest, feel- 
 ing and owning herself the happiest wo- 
 man in the world. That evening too 
 had brought a few lines from Mrs. Ar- 
 lington, assuring her of her continued 
 health and grateful love. 
 
 The next morning she rose, meaning 
 to be very notable and to resume her 
 household duties directly ; but she went 
 
 1
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 145 
 
 over her house, made a great bustle, 
 seemed very busy, and did nothing." 
 
 ^' What furniture and plate, &c. have 
 you brought down with you .^" asked 
 Derville, when they met at dinner. " I 
 have heard very little of Lady Ann's 
 legacy !" 
 
 '' There is little to hear. I was much 
 disappointed in its value; and Mr. Farrell 
 and I agreed that I had better sell most of 
 the furniture and some of the china orna- 
 ments and plate, and buy new, — I should 
 have liked to have had two or three 
 things which I gave up to Lady Lucy." 
 
 '' And why did you not take them.^" 
 
 ^' Because she wished to have them ; 
 and she was so civil that I really had a 
 pleasure in obliging her — though Mr. 
 Farrell advised me not." 
 
 *' Interest would make any one civil : 
 however, I had rather she should be able 
 to say that you were generous, than that 
 you were selfish. But now be so good 
 
 VOL. I, H
 
 146 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 as to tell me more about Mrs. Arling- 
 ton : her letter to me bespeaks a woman 
 of education ; of great kindness of heart; 
 and her invitation is a tempting one : 
 but this is all I know, and I believe you 
 know little more." 
 
 '* No, we do not ; except that she is 
 one of the most beautiful, graceful, ac- 
 complished and enviable of women." 
 
 "Enviable! Has she a husband and 
 children, Anna .^" 
 
 " Not children, certainly ; and perhaps 
 not a husband : and so far," said she 
 smiling, " I know women more to be 
 envied : — but her house, her grounds, her 
 style of living — Indeed, Derville, I should 
 like to live just like Mrs. Arlington : I 
 mean with you and my children, not 
 without." 
 
 " But still you do not know who she 
 is .^" Here the entrance of Mr. Travers 
 put a stop to the conv€rsation, but it was 
 renewed as soon as he was seated.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 14/ 
 
 *' Well, Travers," said Mr. Derville, 
 " I can't find out who my wife's new 
 friend is." 
 
 " I begin to think I have discovered," 
 replied Mr. Travers ; " but my ideas and 
 recollections on the subject are very im- 
 perfect and confused. I think she was a 
 Miss Louisa Fortescue. But Arlington 
 is not her real name." 
 
 *^ Not her real name !" exclaimed his 
 auditors in some consternation. 
 
 *' No ; for some reason or other, I 
 suspect that she is separated from her 
 husband, whose name I think is Sey- 
 mour." 
 
 '* Seymour !" exclaimed Jane ; " then 
 we saw his picture. There was a curtain 
 before it, which I undrew. It was the 
 picture of a very handsome man, and I 
 asked who it was. I remember now that 
 she sighed deeply, turned away, and 
 said * The gentleman's name is Sey- 
 mour.' " 
 
 H 2
 
 148 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 " Very strange! and very mysterious !" 
 said DervilJe thoughtfully. 
 
 *' It has always a bad appearance," 
 said Travers, " when a wife is separated 
 from her husband, and lives in such 
 splendour ! and this lady too goes by 
 another name, and that not her maiden 
 name ! Surely, before you continue this 
 intimacy, you ought to inquire more con- 
 cerning this lady, for Jane's sake, and 
 also for yours, my dear madam, for you 
 are as yet too young and too lovely to be 
 known to associate with ladies of doubt- 
 ful character." 
 
 " My dear sir," eagerly replied Mrs. 
 Derville, '* it is true that I have had no 
 means of knowing how women who are 
 not good, look and talk and behave ; but 
 I feel it to be impossible, that any wo- 
 man can look and talk and act like Mrs. 
 Arlington, who is not pure and faultless 
 in thought and in deed." 
 
 ** You are pure yourself, my dear ma-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 149 
 
 dam, and therefore it is impossible for 
 you to suspect the purity of another. 
 Those who are consciously good are not 
 apt to suspect the virtue of others." 
 
 *' Then how is it that you suspect Mrs. 
 Arlington, sir ?" 
 
 ** Fairly retorted," cried Derville. 
 
 ** But you must own," said Mr. Tra- 
 vers, " that the situation is a singular 
 one.^" 
 
 " True ; but all singular situations are 
 not guilty ones. For instance, what 
 must any one have thought, who knew 
 the danger to which my husband was ex- 
 posed from the contagion in Lovelands, 
 if they had heard me singing, and seen 
 me going about to parties, and enjoying 
 myself, as if all was well and safe at 
 home ? This was a suspicious situation : 
 Yet still — how innocent I was even of 
 impropriety at the moment!" 
 
 *' Well," replied Derville Vv^ith a be- 
 nevolent smile, " I like to hear you de-
 
 150 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 fend your new acquaintance, and I will 
 answer her letter ; but it may be as well 
 to make some inquiries concerning her, 
 and Fairell will do it for us. But come, 
 before it is d^r^k let us take a walk and 
 visit some of my parishioners ; though 
 even now I will not allow you to go into 
 all the cottages, lest there be any remains 
 of infection." 
 
 '' No, no," said Mr. Travers, " do 
 you stay at heme, or go somewhere else ; 
 I want to have a tete-a-tete with your 
 wife, and I choose to have it now." 
 
 " Very well ; but I suppose I may 
 be allowed to come and meet you ? and 
 in the mean while I will take the children 
 to see a new prospect station which I have 
 discovered." 
 
 When they were alone together, Mr. 
 Travers told Mrs. Derville that he wish- 
 ed her to visit the cottagers and others of 
 the parishioners without her husband, 
 that she might have the delight of hear-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 15 I 
 
 ing his praises from tlieir own lips^ a tri- 
 bute of which respect would prevent their 
 payment in his presence; and Mrs. Der- 
 viile thanked him jieartily for his con- 
 siderate attention. 
 
 Nor was it needless : and the delimited 
 
 o 
 
 Mrs. Derville enjoyed that gratification 
 most dear to the heart of a virtuous and 
 affectionate wife, — the well-earned praises 
 and blessings bestowed on a beloved hus- 
 band by grateful beings whom he had 
 either served, saved, or consoled. 
 
 V/hen Derville met them on their re- 
 turn, the Hushed cheeks, and red, tearful 
 eyes of his wife filled him at first with 
 anxiety ; but the affectionate smile and 
 tendL-r pressure of his hand with which 
 she welcomed him, soon dissipated his 
 alarm ; and Travers kindly said, ' * Do not 
 regret your wife's tears, for they are the 
 tears of pride and of happiness." And that 
 evening she again forgot that the rooms 
 were small, and that the sui)per was
 
 152 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 served on queen's ware. The next day 
 brought another letter from Mrs. ArUng- 
 ton in answer to one which Mrs. Der- 
 ^ille had written to announce her safe ar- 
 rival and happy meeting with her hus- 
 band; and to which Mary Ann had added 
 a postscript to inform her that Nelly had 
 two puppies, one of which (the hand- 
 somest) she was bringing up for her. 
 This letter v/as a franked one ; and on 
 opening it they found a paper inclosed, 
 on the outside of which was written 
 ** A christening present for Nelly," and 
 the following note to Mary Ann : 
 
 ^*My dear child, 
 
 ** I beg my intended pet may be named 
 Caius if it be a dog ; and, as is usual on 
 >such occasions, I, as sponsor, send a pre- 
 sent, of which, however, you are to have 
 the sole disposal under the direction and 
 ©are of your good father, who will, I am 
 sure, dispose of it in the best possible
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 153 
 
 manner for the benefit of the young 
 Gracchi. Your affectionate friend, 
 
 "Louisa Arlington." 
 
 Tlie paper was opened, and the de- 
 
 Hghted but wondering Mary Ann held 
 
 up three bank notes. The amount was 
 
 but I will not say what it was, for 
 
 I know that some of my readers will say, 
 *' Nonsense! it was far too much for her to 
 give 1" and others would exclaim^ " Shame 
 on her ! she ought to have given a great 
 deal more, if she meant to show her gra- 
 titude to the mother for her having saved 
 her life.'* Therefore, I will avoid all risk 
 of offending the prudent and the money- 
 loving on one hand, and the over-gene- 
 rous on the other, who are usually, alas ! 
 those who have nothing to give, — and will 
 not disclose the amount of the bank- 
 notes, except by implication. When Der- 
 ville saw the notes, he would have given 
 one of them at that moment to be sure 
 that Mrs. Arlington was, and always had 
 H 5
 
 154 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 been the angel which his wife described 
 her to be: as, though he saw that this 
 gift was only the result of a generous and 
 perhaps a proud heart, eager to show its 
 sense of a benefit received, and that this 
 gift would only be the forerunner of more 
 bounties ; still, what he could have re- 
 ceived with pleasure from the hand of un- 
 blemished excellence, he shrunk from re- 
 ceiving from that of doubtful virtue. But 
 he discarded the uncandid thought again 
 immediately; and while his wife and -elder 
 children expatiated with delight on the 
 handsome manner in which Mrs. Arling- 
 ton had contrived to make her present, 
 he took the amazed and perplexed Mary 
 Ann on his knee, to explain to her what 
 Mrs. Arlington meant, and what they ad- 
 mired. 
 
 "But, papa/' said Mary Ann, "what was 
 there so charming in Mrs. Arlington's 
 ?ending bank-notes for the puppy ? If it was 
 my body else, I should say it was silly; for
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 155 
 
 you know, papa, if I were to give it to him, 
 he would only tear it in pieces." 
 
 '''Very true ; but you are not ordered 
 to give it to him; you are told to give it 
 to me — that is, to put it under my care, 
 as I shall know how to dispose of it for 
 the benefit of the young Gracchi." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well then, listen, Mary Ann! I shall 
 put this" money out to interest, and it will 
 bring in such a sum ; and as you are the 
 mistress of Nelly and her puppies, it will 
 enable you, you see, to provide very hand- 
 somely for them indeed — a chicken now 
 and then, or a bottle of wine and fine fruit, 
 and so on." 
 
 " O dear, papa, but it would be quite 
 a shame to give dogs such things ! And 
 besides, they don't want them, and would 
 be just as happy without; and that money 
 would buy you something, and mam- 
 ma, and Lionel, and sister, and me too, 
 papa. O dear ! I am sure Mrs. Arlington
 
 156 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 can't expect me to lay out that money on 
 dogs." 
 
 " No, my child," replied Derville, " no ; 
 Mrs. Arlington has no such wish ; and 
 now, therefore, perhaps you will under- 
 stand why your mother and Lionel and 
 Jane were so charmed with the delicate 
 manner in which she made you this pre- 
 *«ent, by pretending it was for the puppy 
 on its being named." 
 
 *^ Then it was make-believe; papa, and 
 1 thought that was wrong." 
 
 " So make-believe always is, my dear, 
 when meant to deceive ; but this was 
 meant for no such purpose. Now listen, 
 Mary Ann : Mrs . Arlington is a very very 
 rich lady, and your mother has saved her 
 life : now we are not rich ; and thougli 
 our income is good, part of it is only life 
 income: therefore, though Lionel at my 
 death will have my living, as it is a fa- 
 mily one, the rest of my fortune will not 
 be large enough to enable me to leave
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 15/ 
 
 much to yon and Jane : — this present, 
 tb.en,to you, will be a welcome addition to 
 your fortune, Mary Ann," 
 
 *^ My fortune^ papa ! Why, to be sure, 
 you will give half to Jane ! I shall not 
 keep it all!" 
 
 *' Good child 1 '* said the gratified fa- 
 ther; while Jane kissed her glowing 
 cheek. *' Yes, my dear, you must keep 
 it all, or I will keep it for you, for such 
 was the design of the donor ; and I am 
 very sure that she will find some way of 
 being equally generous to Lionel and 
 Jane — but all in good time." 
 
 *' So am I," said Mrs. Derville; and 
 Lionel and Jane silently acquiesced in 
 the opinion. 
 
 "But now listen again^ Mary Ann. 
 You are only eight, I think ?'' 
 
 ** O yes ! I am almost nine, papa." 
 
 "Well, this money put out to interest 
 (and I can get live per cent, for it^ I know.
 
 158 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 in some of the public stocks), if we let 
 the interest accumulate, — that is, do not 
 take it out and spend it, — will double it- 
 self in seven years ; and by the time 
 you are rather more than two-and-twenty 
 it will make you a pretty little fortune." 
 
 *' Me, papa! Oh! how kind in Mrs. 
 Arlington ! — But why did she not give it 
 to me at once, and not send it to me for 
 the dogs ? " 
 
 "I will tell you: — that would have 
 looked as if she said, ' You are pooi;, and 
 I owe you an obligation; so take this 
 money — I know you want it ; — but by 
 giving it thus, she seems to throw a veil 
 over her real motives, and delicately — 
 
 and" Derville was really puzzled; and 
 
 not less so, when Mary Ann interrupted 
 him with, *' But after all, papa, it is the 
 same thing, you know, and you are poor, 
 and Mrs. Arlington thinks you so. I can- 
 not see the beauty of all this make-be-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 159 
 
 lieve." And Derville could not help laugh- 
 ing as he replied, "Indeed, Mary Ann, on 
 second thoughts, no more can I : and if 
 Mrs. Arlington had said, ' I wish to pro- 
 vide for the children, as their mother has 
 served me so greatly, by giving them some- 
 thing out of my superfluity,' I should not 
 have felt justified in being offended, or 
 in refusing; still, I own the manner she 
 adopted showed some delicacy of mind." 
 
 " Some ! Oh, a great deal !" exclaimed 
 all but Mary Ann^ as they were very te- 
 nacious of Mrs. Arlington's reputation 
 for every thing exalted ; but little Mary 
 Ann, on this occasion, could have ex- 
 claimed like Mungo in the farce, '' How 
 can me like what me no understand ? " 
 
 That day, after this new excitement oc- 
 casioned by this connnunication from Mrs. 
 Arlington had subsided, Mrs. Derville re- 
 sumed, but imperfectly, her daily occu- 
 pations ; and she broke off gladly to un- 
 pack some things just arrived by the wag-
 
 160 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR^ 
 
 gons from London. But It was difficult 
 for her to find places for all her acquisi- 
 tions, and she found that both the china 
 und plate closets must be enlarged^ or 
 new ones made. Yet how to do this she 
 did not know, as she designed to convert 
 a sort of light closet, which commanded 
 a fine view and had a tent-bed in it, into 
 a boudoir, though how to spare the room 
 was a consideration of no small difficulty. 
 *' Little did I think I had so many wants T' 
 said Mrs. Derville as she looked over her 
 rooms and her furniture ; ''it is surprising 
 how I could be so long satisfied uith such 
 a slender store of conveniences! Posi- 
 tively, we have hardly a cliair fit to sit 
 upon ; I must have chaises longues in- 
 stead of that lumbering old-fashioned sofa . 
 Nor was it long before she made a ge- 
 neral complaint to her husband of the 
 impossibility to exist any longer without 
 certain articles^, to obtain which part of 
 the legacy must be expended: ^'AnSl as-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. IGl 
 
 sure you," she added/* Lionel is very will- 
 ing to engage to spend the less the first 
 year at college." 
 
 *' Well, that is as you and he please," 
 replied Derville gravely ; *^ Lionel is your 
 child as well as mine, and his college - 
 comforts must be as dear to you as to 
 me ; — if he is willing to spend less on real 
 necessaries that you may spend more on 
 fancied wants, so be it." 
 
 *^ Fancied wants ! Mr. Derville." 
 
 " Yes, my dear; are they not so ? The 
 sofa is quite as good as ever it w^as^ though 
 it is not so new-fashioned ; and we have 
 hitherto been so happy and so good-na- 
 tured, that we have not needed a boudoir^ 
 or room to pout in — is not that the 
 proper translation of the word boudoir^ 
 Anna.?" 
 
 " Nonsense," cried Mrs. Derville pet- 
 tishly; *' call it dressing-room if you will. 
 I want a room I can call my own to sit 
 in in a morning, and receive company in."
 
 102 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 - ''Have you not two parlours ?" 
 
 ''Yes."* 
 
 " And will they not hold morning vi- 
 sitors liicre conveniently than a closet .^ 
 I conclude vcu do not mern to put the 
 tcudoir to the original use of such apart- 
 ments, — that of an apartment sacred to a 
 
 Mrs. Derviile, conscious that her hus- 
 band's raillery and observations were just, 
 felt a little angrv, and replied that indeed 
 she had no room quite big enough to 
 breathe freely in, and that the house now 
 seemed to her quite a nutshell." 
 
 " But a luitshell still full of its sweet- 
 flavoured meat, I hope Y' he gently re- 
 plied. "If your rooms are small, they 
 have hitherto been 'little rooms of great 
 comfort,' Anna, have they not ? and I 
 trust they will be so again. If not, O 
 Mrs. Arlington ! your postillion and vou 
 will have much to answ^er for ! " 
 
 So saying, with a pained and mortified
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 163 
 
 expression of countenance he left the 
 room ; and Mrs. Derville, finding, on con- 
 fi lilting with the carpenter whom she had 
 sent for, that enlarging the closets would 
 cost a great deal of nioney, resolved to 
 give up converting the closet up-stairs 
 into a bondoir which she did not want, 
 hut to convert it into a china-closet which 
 she did want ; as Lady Anne's berjuest of 
 china was really large and handsome. 
 Some of the vases and dishes, however, 
 in imitation of Lady Lucy and Mrs. Ar- 
 lington, she resolved, though at the risk 
 of having them thrown down, to set in 
 her drawing-room, (as she now called the 
 best parlour,) on brackets, and in stands 
 made for the purpose. 
 
 When she next saw her husband, itwas 
 with the paiafal consciousness that her 
 dissatisfaction with the comparative po- 
 verty and smallness of her home had 
 given him pain ; but the resolution she 
 had made to carry her point, and make
 
 164 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 her house as elegant as possible, deter- 
 mined her to conquer the impulse of her 
 heart, and to prove to him by her silence 
 relative to what he had said when he left 
 the room, that without the indulgencies 
 which she required, her comfort in her 
 home could never in future be what it 
 had been ; — and this was the first uncom- 
 fortable meal the husband and wife had 
 ever eaten together. 
 
 Mrs. Derville only spoke to complain 
 of the uncomfortableness of the chairs, 
 and to declare that they were so large and 
 wide, they made the little room still less ; — 
 tlien the tables had better be sent to Loi - 
 don to be sold, and the new-fashioned table 
 that shuts up and draws out bought in 
 its stead. As to the sofa, that was not to 
 be borne with a day longer. *^ How un- 
 grateful this is in you, Anna," said Der- 
 ville reproachfully, " when you must re- 
 collect how comfortably you have often 
 reclined on it after your confi>iements or
 
 ALL IS ^'GT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 165 
 
 little illnesses, and declared, while I sat 
 on one side of it reading you to sleep^ 
 that no bed was ever more comfortable ! 
 Anna, the couch is the same, and your 
 nurse is also unchanged — But — " Here 
 he paused, and starting up abruptly left 
 the room. 
 
 When once persons are very wrong, it 
 is difficult to get right again — and Mrs. 
 Derville felt this. Her heart whispered, 
 *' Follow your husband, and tell him you 
 are no more altered than he or the sofa, 
 and that you own the sofa is a very good 
 sofa." But pride whispered, that Der- 
 ville did not make sufficient allowances 
 for the different life which she had lately 
 led, and the elegant style of furniture, &c. 
 to which she had lately been accustom- 
 ed ; and that he ought not to resent so 
 highly her very natural dissatisfaction with 
 accommodations so very different to 
 those which she had left. ** What would 
 Lady Lucy say, and what woisld Lord
 
 166 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 this, or Lady t'other think, if they were 
 to visit her by chance, and see how un- 
 styhsh every thing about her was ? No, 
 for his own sake, and especially in case 
 Mrs. Arlington should ever be their 
 guest, she must get things a little smart 
 about her — " And she did not follow her 
 husband. 
 
 Derville wandered out to the furthest 
 and most lonely extremity of the banks 
 of the lake, not only to conceal his emo- 
 tion from every eye, but also to com- 
 mune with his own heart, and ask him- 
 self w^hether he- did not too keenly feel 
 these little follies of his wife, and too 
 visibly resent them. She had been, he 
 heard from Lionel, excessively admired 
 and courted whithersoever she went; and 
 he saw that if she had given him encou- 
 ragement, she might have led her old lover, 
 now an admired man of high rank, an 
 avowed captive in her chains. But this 
 vicious indulgence of her vanity, not only
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 167 
 
 exclusive love for him had forbidden, but 
 principle and an innate deiicacv and pu- 
 rity of feeling, which led her to loathe even 
 the appearance of a homage repugnant to 
 good morals. Why then should he so 
 severely judge such a slight evidence of 
 woman's weakness in her ? 
 
 '' I was wrong — I was very WTong ; and 
 by such expressions of my quick feelings 
 I am not .likely to reconcile her to retire- 
 ment and to her home, if indeed, as it 
 now seems, her heart is in a degree 
 alienated from it. Well then, I will re- 
 turn home and seek her out, and speak 
 kindly to her ; but I dare say I shall meet 
 her coming out in search of me." 
 
 His hopes however deceived him ; and 
 he found Mrs. Derville still in the par- 
 lour, and looking over some new silver 
 forks which were just arrived . She turned 
 her head on his entrance, and held up one 
 to him with a forced smile; but her look 
 was calm, and to his surprise he saw no 
 
 ^
 
 168 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 traces of tears on her cheek, though he had 
 evidently twice that day left her with 
 wounded feelings. Then she was in- 
 deed changed, he thought; for he knew 
 not the effort Mrs. Derville made to sup- 
 press the marks of feeling which he had 
 so anxiously sought. 
 
 At this moment Jane entered, follow- 
 ed by Edward Eustace, the young curate, 
 who had obtained her father s and mo- 
 ther's permission to try to win her affec- 
 tions, and who till this unfortunate jour- 
 ney to London, Derville hoped, had very 
 nearly succeeded, as his conduct was un- 
 impeachable and his situation in life 
 good. Jane's mother had been content 
 to marry a humble country clergyman,— 
 and why should her daughter, who had. 
 not more beauty or more accomplish- 
 ments, and had certainly much less for- 
 tune, aspire to a more lofty connexion ? 
 He therefore was not sorry to see Jane 
 return free even in her affections, and he
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 169 
 
 now welcomed Eustace to the house with 
 even parental ardour. 
 
 Mrs. Dervilie, he thought, was rather 
 cold in her welcome ; but then he knew 
 that he had vexed her : but June's man- 
 ner distressed him beyond measure, and 
 he saw that it rendered Eustace exces- 
 sively unhappy. The truth was, Jane 
 had flattered herself that Eustace, who 
 lived at the next village, would be watch- 
 ing for her return ; and she was so much 
 disappointed at not seeing him, that she 
 resolved to revenge herself on him by 
 treating him with cold supercilious civi- 
 lity — and she was no bad imitator of Miss 
 Orme's manner to herself. When he offer- 
 ed to set her a chair, she begged he would 
 not trouble himself : — when she dropped 
 her needle, she declared he was too good 
 to make an effort to find it; — and when he 
 presented it to her, she took it with a 
 smile, but did not look at him while she 
 thanked him. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 Lionel had not yet seen Eustace; and 
 when he entered the room, the unaffected 
 cordiahty of his manner would have made 
 him amends for the coldness of Jane's, if 
 the attentions of friendship could ever 
 make the heart that loves amends for the 
 neglect and the disdain of the object be- 
 loved. 
 
 Lionel's eyes sparkled and his cheek 
 glowed at sight of his friend ; and Derville 
 said to himself, " At least there is one of 
 them unsophisticated and unchanged !" 
 
 " Well, Eustace, how are you ? I am 
 delighted to see you," exclaimed Lionel, 
 as Eustace, expressing his welcome more 
 by an agitated grasp of his hand than by 
 words, arose to meet him : ** But where 
 were you the evening we arrived.'^ and why 
 have we not seen you before ? I assure 
 yon, Jane and I both expected to see you 
 on the road, to give us a welcome, just 
 before we turn off at the gate that leads 
 to your house."
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 1/1 
 
 Jane at these words pretended to take 
 up and examine the silver forks, as she 
 could not deny what Lionel said, and did 
 not like to seem to hear it without deny- 
 ing it: but she very anxiously expected the 
 answer ; and her father was no uninterested 
 and unobservant spectator of what was 
 passing. 
 
 '^ It was my intention to be waiting at 
 that very gate," said Eustace ; " but just 
 as I was setting off for it, I was summon- 
 ed to do duty at a church some miles off, 
 where the minister was suddenly taken ill 
 as he was going to bury a corpse ; nor 
 would he allow me to come away — be- 
 cause he was sure he was dying — till 
 this very evening ; and then being suffer- 
 ed to leave him, I came hither, without 
 even going home." 
 
 ^' Now I shall see what effect this has 
 
 on Jane," thought her anxious father ; 
 
 and to his inexpressible joy he saw her 
 
 turn round with a blushing cheek and a 
 
 I 2
 
 17*2 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 smile of the sweetest animation ; and 
 
 holding out one of the forks to Eustace, 
 
 " See!" she cried, " what extravagancies 
 
 we have been guilty of 1" 
 
 There vv^as nothing in the action itself, 
 
 but the manner of it was every thing. 
 
 Eustace took the fork, his eyes met hers ; 
 
 he understood her late coldness and super- 
 cilious civility ; his heart beat with renewed 
 hope ; and as he pressed her hand on re- 
 turning the fork, he thought, nay he was 
 sure, the pressure was gently returned. 
 
 Derville's heart w^as also lightened of 
 this new load, and in time he was sure 
 his wife would be kind to him again. 
 
 The servant now brought in a packet 
 that came by the post, franked by a se- 
 cretary of state. It was large, and evi- 
 dently contained nothing but writing. It 
 was directed to Mrs. Derville. She eager- 
 ly opened it, and found it was from 
 Mrs. Arlington. 
 
 Mrs. Derville read a few minutes to
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 173 
 
 herself: but her bosom soon heaved, and 
 her eyes filled with tears ; till at length, 
 unable to subdue her feelings, she threw 
 herself on her husband's neck, and faintljr 
 murmuring out ** Forgive me, my best 
 love !" she hid her face on his shoulder. 
 Mrs. Arlington wrote as follows. 
 
 The History of Mrs. Arlington, 
 
 '' The Lawn-House. 
 "From a palace, the seat of sad and so- 
 litary grandeur, I address you at your 
 simple dwelling, the abode of maternal 
 love and of wedded happiness. Long 
 after you left me I followed your carriage 
 Vv^heels in fancy, and envied you your 
 progress ; for you were hastening to the 
 home of your youth and the husband of 
 your heart, and that husband a being to 
 glory in. And I smiled with bitterness 
 while I remembered that to you I had 
 appeared an object of envy : — Aye, and 
 perhaps I appear so still ; for I am doubt-
 
 174 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 ful of what may be your feelings when 
 this packet reaches you. 
 
 "Afewdays will then have elapsed since 
 your reunion with this beloved husband; 
 and after the first fond emotions 
 liave subsided, the ambitious love of 
 grandeur and the luxuries of life, which 
 new circumstances had, I saw, awakened 
 in your bosom, will have had leisure to 
 sliow itself ; and already I can fancy you 
 projecting alterations, devising new ex- 
 penses, and a little angry with Mr. Der- 
 ville for not sympathizing with you in 
 your w^ants and dissatisfactions. Yes ; 
 methinks I can behold unusual gloom 
 over his placid brow, and a feeling of dis- 
 content, for the first time in your life, 
 damping your former consciousness of 
 beii g blest beyond ycur sex's charter. 
 If 1 have fancied and foreboded aright, 
 repent the unworthy and ungrateful sen- 
 sations ; hasten in penitent love to im- 
 plore the pardon of that husband, whom
 
 ALL Is Ts^OT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 175 
 
 your woman*s weakness, however excuse- 
 able, may have wounded ; and when you 
 have been clasped to his forgiving bosom, 
 read to your family the pages which 
 for your sake I have written — written 
 to convince you how blest your lot has 
 been ; and that, were your residence a 
 hovel, such a partner of it should make 
 it a paradise — written to make you for 
 ever a stranger to aught of frivolous re- 
 pinings and frivolous wishes, and to bid 
 you bend in humble and contrite thank- 
 fulness to Heaven, while you read the 
 History of Louisa Arlington." 
 
 Mrs. Derville had read thus far, when 
 unable to endure any longer the re- 
 proaches of her own heart, thus power- 
 fully called into action, she addressed her 
 husband as mentioned above : and when 
 Eustace was gone, Derville read the fol- 
 lowing narrative to his deeply interested 
 wife and children : 
 
 ' * I was the only surviving child of many,
 
 176 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR^ 
 
 and was consequently watched over with 
 more than the usual care of parental affec- 
 tion. But my parents though tender 
 were judicious, and their fondness did 
 not show itself in unbounded indulgence 
 of all my desires, the result always of 
 selfishness rather than well-principled 
 affection ; but it manifested itself in such 
 salutary restraints and wise contradictions 
 as are best calculated to secure the future 
 good of its object. 
 
 ** It is often difficult to say what is cause 
 and what is effect; — but whether my edu- 
 cation influenced my temper, or my tem- 
 per was fitted to profit by my education, 
 I know not : certain however it is, that 
 I was gentle and submissive under pa- 
 rental authority, and that nothing could 
 equal my obedience to my parents, but 
 my veneration and my love for them. 
 
 " My grandfather on the paternal side, 
 though the younger son of a nobleman, 
 h ad entered into trade, and made a very 
 large fortune, and n)y father was his
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 1/7 
 
 only child. I therefore was an heiress 
 of considerable expectations, consequent- 
 ly no expense was spared on my educa- 
 tion ; and as I had early evinced a talent 
 for music, the first masters were em- 
 ployed to perfect me both in singing, and 
 in playing on different instruments ; and 
 till I was sixteen, our winters were all 
 passed in London. But at that time my 
 mother's health became so much affected 
 by the fogs of the metropolis, that we 
 removed to an estate which my father 
 had recently purchased in the immediate 
 vicinity of a large provincial town, and 
 my musical instructors promised that they 
 would continue their lessons occasionally 
 at. our own house, when the London sea- 
 son was over.. 
 
 ** There was a regiment of dragoon 
 guards quartered in the town near which 
 we resided ; and though I was not what 
 is called out, being at the time I mention 
 iiot seventeen, I was nevertheless well 
 I 5
 
 178 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 acquainted with the officers ; and one of 
 them, a young lieutenant, though he 
 paid me no particalar attention and seem- 
 ed to consider me as a child, engaged 
 iny exclusive admiration. 
 
 "If personal beauty in a man can excuse 
 affection in woman, he had sufficient to 
 justify the most unbounded ; but he had 
 much more effective and certain recom- 
 mendations, — a grace of manner which I 
 never yet saw equalled, and a tone of 
 voice which when once heard could 
 never be forgotten. 
 
 ** This dangerous young man did not 
 remain long with the regiment at this 
 period; for he was sent away on a recruit- 
 ing party, leaving behind him a character 
 for extravagance and immorality, which 
 those who admired him, and myself 
 amongst the rest, excused on the score of 
 his youth. But I, however charmed, 
 should have forgotten him, had he not 
 returned to the regiment at the period
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 179 
 
 •when all officers join, and just time 
 enough to witness my first appearance at 
 a public ball. 
 
 " It is not to be supposed that the heir- 
 ess of the rich Mr. Fortescue could ap- 
 pear at her first ball without being an 
 object of notice, if not of admiration ; 
 and perhaps I was both; — certainly, to the 
 young lieutenant I seemed an object of 
 both ; — ^^and as he was the son of a baronet, 
 and his connexions were good, my father 
 could not object to him as a partner for 
 his daughter, 
 
 ** But why should I dwell on the dan- 
 gerous pleasures of that evening, and of 
 many that succeeded it ? 
 
 *'I was prepared to like him, from my 
 previous impressions in his favour, spite 
 of his imputed errors ; and he succeeded 
 only too well, in convincing me that he 
 loved me. 
 
 " At length he made me proposals of 
 marriage ; and I referred him to my pa-
 
 180 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 rents, who had always declared that, as 
 money was no object with them, they 
 would never object to any one whom I 
 loved, provided his character was unex- 
 ceptionable, and he was likely to make 
 me happy. 
 
 ** To be brief: My father, unequivo- 
 cally rejected my lover's suit, and gave him 
 his reasons why he did so, as I afterwards 
 too well knew. He told him that, being 
 aware of my growing partiality for him, 
 he had made minute inquiries into his 
 character and disposition, and that he 
 must be well aware what the result of 
 his inquiries had been ; that he had 
 learnt his temper, when not restrained 
 by powerful motives, such as those of 
 interest and fear, was taunting, tor- 
 menting, and tyrannical; and what his 
 habits of life were, it did not, he added, 
 Ijecome him to discuss ; that therefore, 
 however distinguished his family was, 
 and however fascinating his manners.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 181 
 
 such a man should never, with his con- 
 sent, be the husband of his daughter. 
 
 " My lover pleaded his youth as an ex- 
 cuse for his errors^ and assured my father, 
 that as his love for me would make him 
 wax in my hands^ his irritability of tem- 
 per would be conquered by my gentle- 
 ness and endearing qualities. But he 
 argued in vain, and his suit was positive- 
 ly rejected : and my mother was desired 
 by my considerate father to break his 
 commands on this subject to me. 
 
 "Though in a degree prepared for the 
 communication, as I had always 'seen my 
 father's eye sternly fixed on him, and 
 anxiously on me, whenever he had been 
 present at our interviews, it completely 
 overwhelmed me ; and my distress was 
 such, that my indulgent mother promised 
 to prevail on my father, if possible, to 
 say, that if my lover in process of time 
 should seem to have repented the error of 
 his ways, and to be a reformed character
 
 182 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 both in habits and temper, he would 
 allow him to visit at the house. But her 
 efforts were unavailing, and I saw my- 
 self apparently for ever separated from 
 the man who I believed had been in 
 a great measure belied from the ca- 
 lumnies of those who envied him his 
 charms and his acomplishments, and 
 whom, in spite of parental prohibition 
 and of my usual obedience to it, I tender- 
 ly and fervently loved. And my lover 
 was careful to keep up the impression 
 which he had made, by throwing himself 
 in my way whenever he had any oppor- 
 tunity. He used to watch my father from 
 his home ; and then, if my mother and I 
 drove out, or I rode out with the servant, 
 I used to see him leaning on some gate 
 in the road, and looking the very picture 
 of hopeless misery ; while he took care 
 that every one should be able to tell us 
 that he shut himself up, never dined at 
 mess, and was looking woe-worn and pale
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 18o 
 
 — an altered man in every respect. All 
 this had a powerful effect on my mother 
 as well as on myself ; and when she saw 
 that I too grew thin and looked pale, she 
 thought my father carried his resolution 
 too far, and that he had been too severe 
 in his judgement, and too positive in his 
 refusal. 
 
 "At this time my father was forced to 
 go on business to London ; and he had 
 not been gone long, when my lover wrote 
 to my mother, whose pitying looks when 
 he met us had not been lost on him, in- 
 closing a letter for myself, which respect 
 for parental authority, and my principles, 
 prevented him, he said, from attempting 
 even to get delivered another way ; but 
 which he earnestly conjured her, if she 
 valued his well-being here and his salva- 
 tion hereafter, to allow me to read. 
 
 "My mother was affected by the solemn 
 earnestness of his adjuration; softened 
 by his apparent misery, and flattered pro- 
 bably by the consciousness that love for
 
 184 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 her daughter was its cause ; — and tmj fa- 
 ther IV as absent. 
 
 "Accordingly she allowed me to read 
 this fatal letter, the contents of which 
 remained indelibly engraven on my mind. 
 — He owned and lamented the irritabi- 
 lity of his temper, and the errors into 
 which youth and the ardour of his pas- 
 sions had led him ; but that, as the influ- 
 ence of virtuous love was even prover- 
 bial, and he had never felt it till now, he 
 was sure that if I would but be his wife, 
 I should not only reform and render ex- 
 emplary his conduct on earth, but I 
 should save his soul from otherwise in- 
 evitable destruction, and lead a sinner to 
 repentance and to mercy. 
 
 " From that moment I resolved on 
 principle not to attempt to subdue my 
 attachment, and my mother herself espou- 
 sed his cause ; while I saw with satisfac- 
 tion that my mind preyed on my health, 
 and that my appearance was so indicative 
 of indisposition, that my father on his
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 185 
 
 return could not fail to be struck with 
 the alteration. 
 
 ** He was struck with it indeed^ — nay, 
 the sight overwhelmed him. He beheld 
 the darling of his heart, the sole survivor 
 of many beloved children, apparently 
 about to follow them to the grave, the 
 victim of a hopeless attachment. Yet pain- 
 ful as this apprehension was, he thought 
 he could better bear to see me die, than 
 unite myself to a man such as he believed 
 my lover to be, and Vv^ho would no doubt 
 render my existence wretched. 
 
 " But he miscalculated the strength of 
 his resolution ; and he found at last, that 
 any thing was preferable to seeing me die 
 by inches, willed as it were to perish by 
 him; and if I must perish, he felt that 
 he had rather I should die the victim of 
 my own obstinacy, than of his. In short, 
 as my mother was openly our friend, and 
 my father's own heart betrayed him, \vc 
 carried our point : and as soon as Mr.
 
 186 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 Seymour had left the army, we were 
 married. 
 
 ** Various and severe were the animad- 
 versions which my persevering attachment 
 occasioned ; and I was accused of having 
 married from motives of vanity — the 
 vanity of believing that my charms of 
 person and of mind v/ould reclaim a liber- 
 tine. But those accusers were superficial 
 judges of the human heart, and of mine. 
 I married because I loved — because no 
 common attractions of manner and per- 
 son had fascinated my taste, and thrown 
 a spell over my judgement; and that, like 
 all women in love, I had implicit reli- 
 ance on the assurances of the beloved ob- 
 ject. He said that not only his happi- 
 ness and his virtue depended on my be- 
 coming his wife, but his salvation — and 
 I believed him. Can my union with 
 him after that be a matter of wonder .'^ 
 
 *'^ Well, we were married; and my ge- 
 nerous father was not onlv most liberal
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 187 
 
 in his settlements on me, but he was 
 bountiful to my husband also : and he 
 seemed so impressed by my father's noble 
 conduct^ and paid him such marked and 
 flattering attention, tliat my mother 
 blessed the hour when she became his 
 advocate ; and I looked forward to days 
 of uninterrupted happiness. 
 
 ^' My mother did not long survive our 
 union, and she died blessing it, and be- 
 lieving it would be blest. 
 
 ** We had not been married many 
 months when we went on a tour through 
 Scotland ; duringwhich (when alone and 
 unrestrained by my fatlier's presence, 
 who, with a cousin of his, accompanied 
 us on our journey) T discovered that my 
 husband's temper, though restrained, was 
 not improved ; and I began to see on 
 what a sandy foundation the fabric of my 
 wedded bliss was built. 
 
 " But my resolution w^as instantly taken 
 to bear whatever he inflicted with patience
 
 188 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 and in silence, and endeavour to conce-al 
 for ever from all eyes, but more especially 
 from the eyes of my father, the misery for 
 which I had only to blame my own weak- 
 ness, blindness, and obstinate attach- 
 ment ; and, like the Spartan boy, I re- 
 solved to hide from every eye the pangs 
 which would probably prey on my vitals. 
 ** When we returned from Scotland we 
 took a house in town, and I left the pa- 
 ternal roof. O the agony, the fore- 
 boding agony, of that moment ! But the 
 education which I had received had taught 
 me self-command ; and I was able to take 
 leave of my agitated and agonized parent 
 with such quiet and subdued sorrow, 
 in appearance, as astonished even myself. 
 But its secret violence did not escape my 
 conscious husband : he saw that my eyes 
 were opened to the fate that awaited me ; 
 and as he bore me from my once happy 
 home, he resolved to wear no longer the 
 mak that had fatigued liim.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 189 
 
 " As soon as the carriage drove off, he 
 turned round to me, and said, with a 
 smile of bitter sarcasm, ' I never saw 
 finer specimens of despair and resignation 
 than you and your doting father exhibit, 
 madam ; u^hy, you look as if you were just 
 going to execution, and the chaplain was 
 exhorting you ! And as to your father, — 
 insolent driveller, — does he think I have 
 forgotten that he refused me for your 
 husband, and had the impudence to tell 
 me why ? — to tell me also that he abhor- 
 red my morals and feared my temper, and 
 that he had rather follow you to your 
 gi'ave than to the altar with me ! If I 
 ever forgive it....' 
 
 " Here his utterance became choked 
 with passion, while a mixture of pru- 
 dence and emotion kept me silent : nor 
 did he speak for several minutes. But 
 the horrible expression of his coun- 
 tenance gradually subsided, nay, it was 
 even exchanged for that of insinuating
 
 190 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 softness and animated brightness : — It 
 was the rainbow succeeding to the thun- 
 der-cloud ; and ah ! it was transient like 
 that. 
 
 " He now condescended to soothe my 
 fluttered spirits, apologized for the vio- 
 lence of his temper^ asked me if it was 
 not provoking to see his bride leave her 
 parental roof for that of a young and 
 adoring husband, looking like a con- 
 demned victim going to be sacrificed, and 
 as if all her affections were centred in her 
 father! He also asked if I did not admit 
 that he had reason to be angry with what 
 my father had said to him. And so 
 winning was his manner, so blinded was 
 I by my love, and so willing to be blind- 
 ed, that I absolutely admitted that both 
 my father and 1 were wrong, and that 
 his taunting and cruel language was in a 
 degree to be excused. But ours were 
 young connubial days as yet ; and I soon 
 ound that every future day teemed with
 
 LL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 19i 
 
 similar indulgences of temper, for which 
 not even my blindly-devoted love could 
 find an excuse. 
 
 *' Still, how delightful, how attentive, 
 and how fond, he could seem in company \ 
 for he was excessively jealous of his re- 
 putation ; and being conscious that his 
 temper was suspected to be diabolical, he 
 reproached me with virulence one day 
 for having) he was convinced, injured him 
 in the opinion of the world by my pale 
 cheek and dismal looks, which, he was 
 sure, were attributed to him ; and he in- 
 sisted on my wearing rouge, to hide my 
 paleness, and by that means stop im- 
 pertinent observation. 
 
 ** I obeyed, and even tried to be as gay 
 as I used to be : but my strongest m.otive 
 for obedience in this particular was the 
 wish to deceive my father, as well as the 
 world, and to lay asleep, if I could, his 
 ^ver watchful tenderness. 
 
 ** And Oh ! how comforted I felt when- 
 
 h
 
 192 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR 
 
 , vy^iv, 
 
 ever I was sure that I succeeded ! But 
 this was a difficult task ; — my father was 
 so restless and so suspicious that all was 
 not right, — especially ashe found that my 
 husband spent a great deal of money, 
 and was reported to play high, though I 
 did not know it, — that he was frequently 
 coming to town ; and when he came un- 
 expectedly, it was with great difficulty 
 indeed that I could entirely conceal my 
 sufferings : — when I expected him, by the 
 aid of art and great effort I could look 
 like what I once was. However, two 
 years had worn away pleasantly enough in 
 company, — for there my husband was all I 
 could wish him, — but miserably at home, 
 when I had a prospect of increasing my 
 family. However, my joy was damped 
 by the sorrow which my husband ex- 
 pressed, and by his daily declarations that 
 brats were good for nothing but to bring 
 trouble and expenses on their parents ; for 
 which the pleasure of having them was
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 193 
 
 no equivalent ; and al^o by the conscious- 
 ness which I now had, thtit as he never 
 had any money for the most trivial 
 wants, he must have means of disposing 
 of his income of which I was wholly 
 ignorant. 
 
 " I have hitherto omitted to say, but I 
 will assert it, that had my father wanted 
 other reasons to dislike my marriage with 
 the man of my choice, he had a suffi- 
 cient one in his desire to marry me to the 
 man of his ; and that man was one whom 
 any parent must have delighted in seeing 
 the choice of his child, and any woman 
 might have been proud of making her 
 own. Can I praise him more than by 
 saying that he was in temper and dis- 
 position an exact contrast to my hus- 
 band, and that his countenance was a 
 fit index to the mind and heart which ani- 
 mated it .^ But I was blind — infatuated — 
 obstinate — weak! — and I rejected him, 
 to wed his opposite. On my marriage he 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 accepted a diplomatic mission, and went 
 abroad ; being unable, it was said, to 
 stay in England after that event. How- 
 ever that might be, he returned to it 
 again when I had been married about 
 two years and a half; and I not only 
 frequently met him in company, but my 
 husband asked him continually to the 
 house. Why he did so I cannot tell, 
 except that it was in hopes I might 
 give him an opportunity of reproaching 
 me with being too attentive to an old 
 admirer, and of charging me with im- 
 propriety of conduct. But he knew not 
 the man whom he thus tried to lead into 
 temptation, nor the woman whom he 
 thus ende^oured to place in danger- 
 ous and difficult situations. Mv former 
 lover refused all his invitations to 
 our house, except when I opened my 
 doors to all the world ; and if a feeling 
 of former attachment glowed within his 
 bosom, he respected me too much to
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 195 
 
 let it appear in his looks or manner : but 
 he pitied me, deeply pitied me ; for his 
 eye soon discovered the real wretch, un- 
 der the gay trifler in fashionable circles ; 
 and I saw that he beheld the increasing 
 paleness of my sunk cheek under the 
 bright tints which covered it. 
 
 ** Nay, once he overheard some terrible 
 invectives with which my husband assail- 
 ed me, as he was leading me to my car- 
 riage, when he wanted me to set him 
 down at the Opera, and fancied I was 
 unwilling to come away; — and never, 
 never shall I forget the look of fruitless 
 and tender compassion with which he 
 regarded me ! I see it yet : and whether 
 my fancy gave it the expression or not, I 
 cannot decide, but it seemed to say, 
 * Deluded woman, what have you done ? 
 destroyed my happiness and your own 
 tool' 
 
 ** But this was the only moment when 
 his eyes ever spoke to mine : and soon
 
 196 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 after he again left England as resident at 
 a distant court ; nor have I seen him 
 since. 
 
 ** I was now within two months of my 
 confinement, and anxiously and earnestly 
 anticipating the event; for I could not 
 help hoping that, spite of his avowed 
 aversion to children, the sight of his 
 own might soften my husband's heart in 
 favour of the mother. 
 
 •' But my hopes were doomed to be 
 disappointed. 
 
 " One morning my husband (who never 
 suffered me to retain any part of my al- 
 lowance, and kept me therefore as poor 
 as he made himself) entered the inner 
 drawing-room where I was sitting, to 
 ask for whatever money I had about 
 me ; — but I had none to give him ; 
 and whether his demands were more 
 pressing than usual, or what was the 
 cause, I know not, but he flew into the 
 most ungovernable passion — cursed the
 
 ALL IS 'NOT GOLD THAT GLirfERS. 197 
 
 day he ever married me, cursed me for 
 having had the weakness to love him, 
 and to beheve he loved me ; assuring me 
 that he merely married me for my money, 
 and that he then loved and still loved 
 another woman. 
 
 " Bitter, overwhelming as this moment 
 was, which added the pangs of jealousy 
 to the consciousness of never having been 
 loved by the man I doted on, it was but the 
 forerunner of suffering different in its na- 
 ture, but as agonizing in degree (if any 
 pang can equal that inflicted by jealousy); 
 for, on looking up with a sort of desperate 
 fixedness to the livid and distorted face 
 of my husband — immoveable and as if 
 transfixed with horror, I beheld my la- 
 ther ! ! ! and saw that the misery which 
 I had hitherto so carefully concealed from 
 him, was now revealed to him in all its 
 terrible extent ! 
 
 '* The sight of his despair and the con- 
 sciousness of his pangs drew from me
 
 198 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 what my own had failed to do — a scream 
 of phrensjed agony, which caused my hus- 
 band to turn round, and to behold that 
 unhappy parent whom he had thus stab- 
 bed, though unconsciously, to the heart. 
 Instantly, conscience-stricken, he started, 
 hid his face in his hands, and precipitately 
 left the room. 
 
 " I cannot dwell on the sad scene which 
 succeeded between my broken-hearted 
 parent and myself ;=-5Uaicej that when I 
 threw myself into his arms, as if for pro- 
 tection and for comfort, I ceased to feel 
 as wretched as I had done before, and 
 for a while my consciousness of suffering 
 abated. I must own too, that at the time 
 a feeling of selfishness prevailed ; and I 
 was not sorry to be no longer obliged to 
 keep within my own bosom the secret of 
 my sorrows, but was relieved by being 
 able to confide them to the only being 
 on earth of whose affection I could not 
 be deprived, and whose sympathy and
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 199 
 
 pity for my distress could never know 
 abatement. If there can be a joy in 
 misery, it was mine at that moment. 
 
 ' ' My father was the first to break silence ; 
 and it was in such a voice, and with such 
 a look as showed me what he was about 
 to utter; and nearly inarticulate with 
 agony, I exclaimed, * Oh ! do not, do 
 not curse him 1 ' 
 
 " What my poor father would have re- 
 plied I know not ; but at this moment 
 he saw my pale face assume a still more 
 ghastly hue ; and as he caught me in his 
 arms, to save me from falling, he hastily 
 rang the bell for assistance. 
 
 " Lwas instantly conscious of the effect 
 of my late agitation, and that a prema- 
 ture confinement would be the urJ^jrtu- 
 nate result. Nor was I deceived in my 
 forebodings ; and for many hours my life 
 hung suspended as it were upon a tiuead,- 
 In the intervals of my suffering 1 was 
 continually asking for my father, and his
 
 200 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 presence always seemed to cheer me ; but 
 I never asked for my husband : and I 
 found on my recovery, jealous as he was 
 of appearing to be a beloved and loving 
 liusband, that he deeply resented this 
 natural result of outraged feeling and re- 
 sented cruelty. 
 
 *^ At length the little victim, probably, 
 of a father's brutality, opened its eyes on 
 the light to close them again for ever ; 
 and I was consoled by the certainty that 
 no father's blessing would have hailed him 
 to existence. 
 
 " As soon as my life was safe, my father 
 told me he must return home ; nor did 
 I wonder at his being eager to go, as the 
 sight of my husband was, I saw, become 
 odious to him, though he seemed to feel 
 the greatest possible anxiety during my 
 danger : and well he might ; for he knew 
 that his expectations of further wealth 
 must die with me ; and I fear that my fa- 
 ther put this interpretation on his agonies.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 201 
 
 But perhaps we judged him uncandidly, 
 and remorse as well as interest might 
 prompt the evident agitation . My father 
 wished me to accompany him into the 
 country ; but I was pronounced too weak 
 to undertake the journey: and as I saw how 
 ill he was able to endure my husband's pre- 
 sence, and was fearful of some terrible scene 
 between them, I forbore to ask him to 
 defer his departure till I was strong 
 enough to go with him. However, un- 
 asked^ as my husband declared his in- 
 tention of leaving town, he staid a few 
 days longer ; and these were the last days 
 of affectionate enjoyment that I ever 
 knew. During that period I endeavoured 
 to excuse in my husband the cruel decla- 
 ration, and those overwhelming curses 
 which my father overheard, and I assured 
 him, (which was the truth,) I had been so 
 unwell that day and the preceding one, 
 that the event which we deplored might 
 have taken place had Seymour been less 
 k5
 
 202 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 unkind. I also tried to persuade him 
 that I had occasionally hours of happi- 
 ness, and did not repent my ill-starred 
 union; and it was so necessary to his peace 
 that he should believe me, that he did so. 
 
 " How sweet it was to me to live once 
 more in uninterrupted intercourse with a 
 being who really loved me, who spoke to me 
 always in the tone of affection, and look- 
 ed on me with eyes of fondness ! But the 
 hours flew too rapidly away ; and the 
 moment of my husband's return, which 
 was the signal for my father's departure, 
 came on me as an unexpected calamity* 
 And what grief of heart it was to me to 
 think, that the return of her husband 
 should drive a father away from an ojily 
 child! 
 
 ** But it could not be otherwise, and I 
 had only to submit in silence and resig- 
 nation ; but, O that parting ! O the 
 agony of that moment, when my father 
 on his knees commended me, with qui-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 203^ 
 
 vering lips and streaming eyes, to the pro- 
 tection and support of my Creator, in 
 the trials to which he was certain that 
 he left me, and then rushed out of the 
 house ! The misery of our parting then, 
 could only be exceeded by that of our next 
 meeting. 
 
 " When he was gone, I fell into a sort 
 of stupid acquiescence in my fate. I wel- 
 comed rny husband^ who was really kind 
 when we first met^ with a smile of tran- 
 quillity approaching to imbecillity, which 
 evidently shocked him ; and he pressed 
 my pale lip with a degree of affection to 
 which I had long been a stranger. 
 
 " Iwas soon^ however, too fa tally roused 
 to the keenest sense of suffering. My 
 father was advancing in life, and the agi- 
 tation and anxiety which he had recently 
 undergone had had a pernicious, nay 
 fatal effect on his frame ; for he had not 
 been home above three days when he was 
 seized with a paralytic stroke. An ex-
 
 2f)4 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 press was immediately sent off to my hus- 
 band, who, to do him justice, broke the 
 intelligence in the gentlest manner to me, 
 and, foreseeing that I should wish to set 
 off directly, had ordered horses to the 
 door before he communicated it ; — he 
 also insisted on accompanying me, mean- 
 ing to keep his arrival a secret from my 
 father. 
 
 " Tliis kindness, this attention, what- 
 ever were its motives, supported me won- 
 derfully under this new and severest of 
 trials ; and if I found my poor father sen- 
 sible, I meant to please him by relating 
 it to him. But alas ! when my husband, 
 who left the carriage to ask how my father 
 was, even before he handed me out, re- 
 turned to me as I leaned in almost breath- 
 less agitation against the door of the hall, 
 I saw such an expression of satisfaction 
 on his features as led me to imagine he 
 brought good news ; and when he told 
 me on the contrary that I must prepare
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 205 
 
 myself for the worst, I could not but feel, 
 even at that engrossing moment, that the 
 certainty of my father's fate had occasion- 
 ed the glad expression which I had ob- 
 served. 
 
 *^ I therefore rejected involuntarily his 
 offered arm up the stairs, and staggered 
 alone into the chamber of death. Though 
 the last struggles of life were fast approach- 
 ing, and the powers of utterance were 
 nearly destroyed, the sufferer's perceptions 
 were clear : and instantly recognising me, 
 he held out his hand in welcome ; while 
 his dying eyes were turned with unutter- 
 able tenderness upon me. I threw my- 
 self in an agony of grief beside him ; and 
 seeing by a mournful shake of his head 
 that he meant to assure me there was no 
 hope of his recovery, I gave way to the 
 tenderness of lamentation, conjuring him 
 to live for my sake, or take me with him ! 
 These words too plainly spoke that I was 
 conscious, if I lost him, I should lose every
 
 206 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 thing which endeared Hfe to me ; and as he 
 tried to embrace me with the arm that 
 had escaped the attack, he said in imper- 
 fect accents, and looking up to heaven, 
 * There ! seek there a father, my child^ — 
 
 bless ' and while I hung over him in 
 
 breathless attention to catch the imper- 
 fect and unfinished sentences, he looked 
 wistfully in my face, the arm that grasp- 
 ed me suddenly let go its hold, and his 
 eyes closed to ope no more. I must 
 pause — ^This recollection always . over- 
 whelms me. 
 
 "Day succeeded to day and week to week, 
 yet I showed no signs, I have been told, 
 of returning consciousness; and except 
 that I breathed, it was sometimes doubt- 
 ful whether I existed. At length, however, 
 my youth enabled me to triumph over my 
 disease, — the result of the debility occa- 
 sioned bysorrow and emotions of a various 
 nature, — and I recovered to a sense of what 
 now was. But such a dreadful conscious-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 207 
 
 ness attended returning recollection, that 
 I wished in the first feelings of despair to 
 lose again the sense so lately restored to 
 me ; for I seemed to stand alone in the 
 world, unloved, unsoothed, and unsup- 
 ported ! 
 
 "The eyes which had regarded me with 
 partial affection during so many years 
 were now closed in the grave ; the only 
 heart that loved me with a tenderness 
 which nothing could chill, was now still 
 and cold and broken ; — and broken by 
 whom ? and whose persevering and un- 
 duteous obstinacy had led to consequences 
 so fatal and distressing ? And yet I live, 
 and still must live ! live to suffer — retri- 
 butive justice wills that I should — and 
 drink to the dregs that bitter cup which 
 I have drugged for myself ! Such were my 
 thoughts on recovering my recollection. 
 But fortunately for me, so deep was my 
 contrition for having been the means of 
 my father's sudden fate, so prostrate was I
 
 208 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 in true humiliation and self-judgement 
 before the Being who had thus made my 
 offence the means of my punishment, — 
 that I gathered consolation from the ex- 
 cess of my misery, and was thankful that 
 I was allowed to endeavour to expiate by 
 trial the sins which I had committed : and 
 this feeling saved and supported me. 
 
 *' My husband expressed great joy at 
 my recovery^ and was , I have been informed , 
 excessively afflicted at beholding my sad 
 state (no wonder ; for had he not, as it were, 
 two lives to answer for already, and might 
 not mine be added to the list ?) And when 
 his tears fell on my neck, as he pressed 
 me to his heart on first seeing restored re- 
 collection in my eyes, when I opened them 
 on the objects around me, and shudder- 
 ingly recognised him, my heart reproach- 
 ed me for being so shut up, as it were, 
 against these evidences of his affection ; 
 and as I leaned against his bosom, I re-
 
 ALL IS NOT €OLD THAT GLITTERS. 209 
 
 solved to endeavour if possible to love him 
 still, and try to be the object of his love. 
 *' I did love him still, spite of all that 
 had passed : andwhen he devoted his hours, 
 as he now did, to endeavours to amuse 
 and cheer me, I forgot his past cruelty, 
 and only wished my beloved father w^s 
 alive to witness the happy change. But 
 with my health and recovered calmness 
 my husband's attentions ceased ; and I 
 was left alone again to brood over my 
 sorrows ; while superior to the rest tower- 
 ed the pang of jealousy, and his declara- 
 tion that he had never loved me, hut had 
 loved and still loved another, haunted me 
 wherever I went. And who and where 
 could this rival be .^ But perhaps he had 
 only said this to torment me. However, 
 the idea, false or true, was always upper- 
 most ; and whenever we were at an assembly 
 together, I always watched his countenance 
 when he addressed the young, the beau- 
 tiful, and the attractive.
 
 210 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 ^* You will wonder, perhaps, to hear me 
 talk of going to assemblies again : but it 
 was part of my duty to do it. 
 
 " As the terrible illness which had suc- 
 ceeded my poor father's death was a 
 sufficient proof of the love I bore him, 
 and months of suffering and seclusion 
 had testified my respect for his memory, 
 my next duty was to indulge my hus- 
 band's wishes: — besides, such, as I said 
 before, was his jealousy with regard to his 
 reputation on certain points, that he was 
 afraid the world should suspect I se- 
 cluded myself to weep on account of a 
 living husband rather than a dead father. 
 His self-love too was wounded, at the idea 
 that such grief for a parent could be felt 
 by one who was so happy as to call him 
 husband ; and he insisted on my putting 
 off mourning and putting on rouge, and on 
 my resuming my usual habits of visiting. 
 
 " I obeyed, and even tried to be gay ; — 
 and it was curious to obser\'e what a con-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 211 
 
 trast to me his manner in society was to 
 his manner at home. 
 
 ** In company he was still so attentive to 
 me, and so kind, that he flattered himself 
 I should be the envy of wives and of wo- 
 men ;— but the moment he had me to 
 himself again, the mask was thrown off, 
 and the domestic tyrant again appeared. 
 He reminded me of the fairytale, in which 
 the hero was forced by some powerful en- 
 chanter to appear in the most beautiful 
 form possible all day, and to change into 
 some sort of monster every night — and 
 the powerful enchanter in this case was 
 Temper. 
 
 *' While I was enduring what this ca^ 
 pricious magician inflicted on me, I used 
 to say to myself * Yes — yes — he spoke 
 the truth. He does not love me, he 
 never did love me, and he loves another;' 
 for that was the mournful burthen of my 
 song. Yet still, I saw no being appa- 
 rently preferred to me ; nor did the ex~
 
 212 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 pressive glance of his brilliant eye ever 
 seem to turn on any woman with the tell- 
 tale softness of love. 
 
 ** However, he was frequently out all 
 day and all night, and there seemed 
 no end to his extravagance and his ex- 
 penses. When I was able to attend to 
 busir.ess, I found — what I had been ap- 
 prehensive might not be the case^ — that 
 my father did not alter his will after his 
 last vi^it to London ; but that the legacy 
 to my husband stood as it did before, and 
 this legacy was no less a sum than several 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 " The money which he bequeathed to 
 me was so tied up, that I, and I alone, 
 could receive the interest of it. But I had 
 the fee of a considerable sum ; and ex- 
 cept tiat my husband did not like to be 
 obliged to ask me to give him such parts 
 of my income as his necessities demand- 
 ed, I had reason to think he was well 
 satisfied witk the will, especially as his
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 2 IB 
 
 bequest was more than he had ever ex- 
 pected. 
 
 " Yet that money was all gone, I knew, 
 soon after it was received ; and I began 
 to fear that gaming was the vortex which 
 swallowed up his wealth. I indeed had 
 long been the only person who was a 
 stranger to his love of play and his ge- 
 neral profligacy of life. But how could 
 I be otherwise ? No one can presume to 
 tell a wife who respects herself and her 
 duties, of the errors of her husband ; nor 
 can such an one ever listen for a moment 
 to the offensive tale, even should any one 
 be bold enough to enter upon it : there- 
 fore I seemed likely to remain for ever a 
 stranger to my husband's immoralities, 
 or only to guess at them by their ruinous 
 effects. Yet with the usual suspicion 
 that marked his character, he was so 
 afraid that I might be told tales of his 
 conduct, and indulge a weak and un- 
 principled curiosity in listening to and
 
 214 MRS. ARLINGTOxV ; OR, 
 
 seeking them, that he insisted on my 
 gradually dropping my early and inti- 
 mate friends, on pretence that he was 
 jealous of my loving any one besides 
 himself. 
 
 *^ Another instance of the tyranny which 
 he exercised, and the obedience which 
 he exacted, he gave by desiring me to 
 leave off singing, as he disliked music 
 generally, and my performances particu- 
 larly, vowing that, when he was some- 
 times disposed to return home, the dread 
 of hearing my infernal squalling kept 
 him away : besides, he said he thought 
 I sung too* well for a gentlewoman, and 
 that as I did not please by the display 
 of that accomplishment the only man 
 whoni I ought to wish to please, it was 
 itiy duty to give it up. This was a hard 
 trial of my obedience indeed ; but I 
 obeyed. — O Airs. Derville! hoW I en- 
 vied you when you told me that Mr. 
 Derville delighted to Hear you sing ! Do
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 215 
 
 you not remember what I said to you at 
 the moment ? 
 
 *' About this time an important event 
 in my life took place. My mother had an 
 uncle not many years older than herself, 
 who was excessively attached both to her 
 and to my father. He had been my fa- 
 ther's school-fellow, and just before they 
 married he went out to India with a very 
 lucrative appointment. 
 
 *' AVhen he arrived there, he wrote word 
 that it was his earnest desire that one of 
 my mother's children, if she had any, 
 should be christened after him. His 
 name was Louis ; and if it was a boy it 
 was to be so called, and if a girl, Louisa. 
 I was the third-born. I was therefore 
 called Louisa, and a friend of his stood 
 proxy at the font for Mr. Arlington. 
 
 " During the first years of his residence 
 in India he used to write constantly to 
 my parents : but he had not written for 
 many years^, vAien, as I was one day sit-
 
 216 MRi. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 ting mournfully in my own apartment, I 
 was told that a gentleman of the name of 
 Arlington wished to see me. It instantly 
 occurred to me that it might be my mo- 
 ther's uncle, and I hastened to him with 
 almost trembling eagerness. I was not 
 deceived ; and for awhile he mingled his 
 tears with mine, at the remembrance of 
 my beloved parents. 
 
 " I felt his arrival an alleviation of my 
 domestic sufferings ; for I had found a 
 heart to sympathize with me in all my 
 regrets for those whom I had lost'. 
 
 ^' The only drawback to my pleasure in 
 the society of this truly affectionate rela- 
 tion and admirable man was, the terror 
 I experienced lest he should discover that 
 my unhappiness (which I could not al- 
 ways hide) was occasioned by the living 
 more than by the dead. But this task was 
 made comparatively easy to me by the 
 conduct of my husband, who, finding 
 that my uncle was a man of immense
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 21/ 
 
 property, an old bachelor, and my god- 
 father, — determined by every attention in 
 his power to conciliate his favour, in or- 
 der to induce him when he died to leave 
 me his wealth without any of the restric- 
 tions with which my father had encum- 
 bered his property. And finding that Mr. 
 Arlington was very fond of singing, he re- 
 pealed the prohibition mentioned above ; 
 and I had- not only the satisfaction of gra- 
 tifying myself by resuming the exercise 
 of a talent which I enjoyed, but the far 
 greater delight of obliging a relation 
 whom I really had learnt to love. 
 
 " Mr. Arlington was now so much 
 with us at meals, and I so rarely saw my 
 husband at any other time, that if my 
 life was not happy, it was at least tran- 
 quil. And my greatest trial now was, find- 
 ing my means to relieve the wants of 
 others, — a duty which I had been edu- 
 cated strictly to perform, — exhausted only 
 too constantly by my husband's demands 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 on my purse : and when I told him such 
 and such sums were appropriated to cer- 
 tain purposes, there was no language 
 strong enough to express his contempt for 
 what he called alms-giving \ and he used 
 to bid me recollect that there were poor- 
 laws^ and they were quite sufficient for 
 the relief of my amiable proteges. 
 
 " Twice, at moments like these, Mr. 
 Arlington was announced. x\nd while 
 my untutored countenance betrayed but 
 too well what was passing in my mind, 
 my husband was able to recover himself 
 directly — to receive his guest with the 
 most conciliating smile — and when he saw 
 that the old man examined my looks, he 
 coolly accounted for my discomposure by 
 observing, that if he had not some pru- 
 dence, my amiable but indiscriminating 
 charities would ruin us both ; and that 
 he had just been unwillingly convincing 
 me that the seeming poor were often as 
 rich as those of whom they begged.
 
 ALL LS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 219 
 
 ^' But though it was possible that this 
 tale might impose on Mr. Arlington 
 twice, it was not likely to do so a third 
 time ; and I saw the look of disdainful 
 suspicion with which he regarded my 
 husband. 
 
 " Both times, however, he chose to 
 seem to be deceived : and when we were 
 alone he asked me — reminding me that I 
 was not only his niece but his god-daugh- 
 ter, — if the contents of his purse would 
 give me any satisfaction; and I frankly 
 owned that it would. 
 
 '^ For at least a twelvemonth I enjoyed 
 the comfort of this amiable being's so- 
 ciety, with the approbation of my hus- 
 band, who was invariable in his atten- 
 tions to him ; but I was only too sure that 
 Mr. Arlington understood the extent of 
 my wedded trial, and was even far more 
 aware of it, I afterwards found, than I 
 was ; for communications '.vere made to 
 him which could not meet my ear ; and 
 l2
 
 220 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 though, in order to avoid giving me pain, 
 he behaved with great pohteness to Mr. 
 Seymour, it was evident even to me that 
 the feehngs w^hich he entertained towards 
 him were not those of esteem. 
 
 " It was during this twelvemonth that 
 Mr. Arhngton bought the Lawn-House 
 and the estates round it, and added to it 
 the baths^ the theatre, the pineries, the 
 succession -houses, and all the luxuries 
 which you have seen, admired, and en- 
 vied. — Will you ever envy me again .^ 
 
 " This good old man was become in- 
 expressibly dear to me, and he was use- 
 ful also ; for I found him a sufficient 
 chapero7i if I went to the opera or a 
 party, and I needed no other beau to see 
 for my carriage and attend me tlirough 
 the crowd. I was therefore set free from 
 the necessity of accepting the services of 
 idle men of fashion, who would gladly 
 have been the cavaliere servante of a 
 wife whose husband was supposed to ill-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 221 
 
 treat her ; and who, however changed by 
 sorrow, was once deemed an object of 
 adnnration. 
 
 *' Lord N. — (your friend, Jane) — was 
 at this time very desirous of being my ob- 
 sequious follower: but he soon found that 
 his powers of pleasing were thrown away 
 on a woman who thought his flatteries de- 
 graded rather than honoured her ; and he 
 wisely ceased to try to make me talked 
 of, and himself — in that way at least. 
 
 " But the chief benefit which I derived 
 from Mr. Arlington's return to England 
 was, that he took from me the feeling 
 of forlornness — that most cruel and most 
 painful nearly of all feelings, the pangs 
 of self-reproach excepted. For when my 
 father died, and I believed that my hus- 
 band loved me not, — when I saw my early 
 friends separated from me, and knew that 
 the man who had loved me, and who 
 probably still was interested in my fate, 
 was resident in a foreign land, — I seemed
 
 222 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR^ 
 
 to myself to stand alone in creation ! 
 Wealth seemed a mockery ; acquaintances 
 only uninteresting baubles ; public spec- 
 tacles nauseous frivolities ; talents empty 
 distinctions ; and I was like one who 
 tried to slake his thirst in a garden filled 
 only with fruits of gold and water of 
 quicksilver. 
 
 ** The affections of my heart were 
 withering : their object had proved un- 
 worthy, and gave me scorn and cruelty for 
 love ; and I wandered about like St. Leon 
 in the tale, without one feeling of sym- 
 pathy with the contemporaries around me. 
 
 " But Mr. Arlington came, and my 
 heart re-opened to the pleasure of loving 
 and being beloved. With him I could 
 converse of all I had ever held dear ; to his 
 amusement^ nay to his happiness, I had 
 the certainty of being instrumental, and 
 I might say of being necessary : and while 
 I felt this, I was enabled to endure the 
 trials of my situation with tranquil resig-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 223 
 
 nation. The feeling of jealousy indeed 
 rankled still ; but as it had no object to 
 fix on, its bitterness gradually faded away; 
 and the more surely, because my hus- 
 band's increasing infirmities of temper 
 had the certain consequence of weaken- 
 ing my affection by imperceptible and 
 slow, but certain degrees. 
 
 *' But a new misfortune was reserved 
 for me in the death of this beloved uncle ; 
 and a complaint in the heart carried him 
 off in one unconscious moment. 
 
 ** He died at the Lawn-House; and my 
 husband went down thither to attend the 
 funeral and be present at the reading of 
 the will. But he hoped that no will would 
 be found, as in that case Lawn-House 
 and all the property would be his, to do 
 what he pleased with, since I was Mr. 
 Arlington's heir at law. But he was 
 mistaken in his hopes ; — a will was 
 found, and read to his utter confusion 
 and disappointment : for it was so worded
 
 224 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 under the direction of the ablest lawyers, 
 that all Mr. Arlington's landed and perso- 
 nal property became mine on his death — 
 solely on these conditions ; namely, that 
 I expended not one farthing of my pro- 
 perty on my husband (while that husband 
 was Sedley Seymour) in anyway whatever. 
 I was forbidden to make him even a pre- 
 sent^ and on no pretence was he to in- 
 terfere with my expenditure. If I was 
 guilty of this infraction of his will, and 
 the fact could be proved against me, the 
 estates were to go to his next heir at law, 
 whoever that might be; and the personal 
 property to the person who substantiated 
 the charge. — Kind, considerate, but m- 
 jndicioiis benefactor ! 
 
 **This posthumous resentment of my 
 injuries declared only too powerfully to 
 every one that such injuries existed; and 
 by wounding my husband's self-love, as 
 well as by disappointing his hopes, it only 
 served to widen the breach between us.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 225 
 
 Never shall I forget, never will I attempt 
 to describe, the scene that awaited me on 
 his return. 
 
 '' I was now tlie mistress of immense 
 wealth, over the disposal of which I had 
 unlimited control ; and so far I enjoyed 
 the prospects it held out to me : but still, 
 it was less precious to my own selfish 
 gratifications than the society of the do- 
 nor; and though my husband reproached 
 me with hypocrisy, I deeply mourned the 
 loss of my uncle. 
 
 '' But I must own that I felt pain at 
 not being able to spend any part of my 
 fortune as my heart would have dic- 
 tated, — namely, on my offending yet still 
 dear husband, — though this he swore . 
 never to believe ; and sometimes, to 
 tease me, he said he was sure that I 
 dictated the will myself: but this I knew 
 he did not think, and all I could do I 
 did. I bought fine horses and carriages ; 
 I gave expensive dinners ; of the former 
 L 5
 
 226 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 he had the free use, and to the latter he 
 hivited whomsoever he chose : and when 
 the Lawn-House was ready, I invited 
 thither all those whose society was most 
 pleasing to him : nay, I did still more ; 
 the trustees of my marriage settlement 
 had hitherto very properly refused to give 
 up any part of the trust to accommodate 
 Mr. Seymour's necessities, though I 
 had urged them to it. But now, on his 
 assuring me that a certain sum would 
 make him easy and save him frorn ar- 
 rest, I prevailed on them to give it up, 
 as it was very certain I had much more 
 now than I could ever want, -and secured 
 in such a manner that it could not be squan- 
 dered except by my own extravagance. 
 
 " They were convinced, and yielded to 
 my wishes : but I would not, for his own 
 sake, let him have at one time more 
 money than his absohite necessities re- 
 quired. 
 
 "My story, I am happy to say, is now
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 22/ 
 
 drawing to a conclusion, and I have only 
 one more incident to relate. 
 
 "I was walking one morning, with a 
 servant behind me^ on a shopping expe- 
 dition to a linen-draper's whom I always 
 employed ; but seeing that a shower of 
 rain was coming on, I went into a shop 
 which I was passing, and resolved to buy 
 what I wanted there. 
 
 *^ In the shop was a young lady, attended 
 by a nurse and child, who was so young 
 and so beautiful^ and so every way at- 
 tractive in appearance, that I gazed on 
 her with wonder and admiration. And 
 when desired to say what J wanted, I sat 
 down in a chair, and said I would wait 
 till that lady was served (for indeed I 
 wished for leisure to gaze on her at my 
 ease). This produced from her a sweet 
 smile and a courteous bow of the head : 
 and then turning round, she caressed the 
 child, who appeared about two years old : 
 and I found to my surprise that it was her
 
 228 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 own, for she did not look more than seven- 
 teen. 'It is a sweet boy,' said I. 
 
 *'^ ' It is mine,' said she smiling. 
 
 '' ' But not at all like you, though it is 
 very handsome.'" 
 
 " * He is the image of his father,' she 
 replied; and went on with her purchase. 
 
 " I meanwhile was playing with the 
 little boy, and attracting him to me 
 by the gold chain and other ornaments 
 which I wore : and as he looked up in my 
 face, I wondered who the father could be 
 whom he so much resembled, for the 
 eyes seemed familiar to me. 
 
 *' The rain was now falling in torrents : 
 I therefore sent my servant for my car- 
 riage; and the lady having completed 
 her purchases^ desired them to be sent 
 to her house. 'What name, madam .^' 
 asked the shopman, while I listened at- 
 teitively. ' Mrs. Sedley Seymour,' she 
 replied ; and some number, and some 
 street ; but I heard no more. A vad sus-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 229 
 
 picion came over my mind : I thought I 
 had at last discovered my rival, and dis- 
 covered her bearing my name as well as 
 enjoying my rights. 
 
 "The shopman saw that I turned very 
 pale; and fearing I was going to faint, the 
 woman serving behind the counter led me 
 into an inner room in which there was a 
 sofa; while the unconscious usurperof my 
 name gav€ them a bottle of salts for my 
 use. But sunimoning all my energy to my 
 aid I conquered the weakness ; and though 
 I threw myself on the sofa I did not faint, 
 but lay revolving in my mind every pos- 
 sible reason for believing that there might 
 be another Sedley Seymour, though the 
 name was peculiar, and I had often heard 
 my husband say he believed there was 
 no one living of the same name as him- 
 self: — still he might be mistaken ; and 
 it was impassible for me to believe that 
 the fair young and innocent looking 
 mother before me, was not as innocent 
 as she seemed,
 
 230 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 *' 'But I will sift this matter to the bot- 
 tom,' thought I. Yet the next moment 
 I doubted whether I should be justified 
 in thus surprising my husband's secrets, 
 supposing that my fears were just. A 
 feeling, however, which carried all else 
 before it urged me to make every dis- 
 covery possible : and being quite recover- 
 ed, I returned into the shop. The un- 
 conscious cause of my illness met me, 
 and inquired concerning my health with 
 the kindest accents. This, and the sight 
 of the child, who now appeared to me the 
 image of Mr. Seymour, nearly overcame 
 me again. My carriage had by this time 
 arrived ; and having made up my mind 
 how to act, I offered (as the rain still con- 
 tinued) to set the fair stranger down. 
 But she refused, on pretence of trouble, 
 crowding, my illness, &c. as I knew she 
 would. I was however determined to 
 carry my pointy and I did carry it. — She 
 lived at the top of Upper Baker-street : 
 and as soon as we were in the coach I tried
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 231 
 
 to summon up resolution to ask certain 
 necessary questions, as ' Is that your 
 oldest child ? ' — '' ' O yes, I have not been 
 married three years.' 
 
 " ^ Married ! I repeated to myself; and 
 my hopes revived. * I should not think/ 
 replied I, by your look, that you could 
 have been married so long.' 
 
 " ' O yes, and engaged much longer ; 
 for I was- engaged before I was fifteen, 
 and should have been married then, but 
 my husband, who was recruiting in Wales 
 where I lived, was only a lieutenant of 
 dragoons and had no money, and I had 
 none then.' 
 
 *^ * In what regiment was your husband ?' 
 And she named Mr. Seymour's. 
 
 '' ^ I had her salts still in my hand : and 
 it is well I had, for they saved me from 
 nearly fainting again. 
 
 " ' It is hard,' said I, ' when poverty 
 prevents two persons, who love each other, 
 from marrying.'
 
 232 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 " ' It is indeed,' she answered. ' But 
 luckily, three years ago, just after my 
 father died and my brother went to In- 
 dia, I had a handsome fortune left me ; 
 so I wrote to my lover, and he came down 
 and married me. I assure you I was very 
 glad to see him^ for I had seen in the 
 newspaper the marriage of Sedley Sey- 
 mour, Esq. to a Miss Fortescue, and I 
 was afraid it was he.' 
 
 ** * Indeed ! ' cried I, feeling my head 
 turn round. 
 
 " ' Yes, and I said so in my letter; but 
 he told me when he came down that it 
 was an uncle of his, who had married a 
 great beauty and a great heiress.' 
 
 '^ O how little could she have been able 
 to discover the great beauty in the poor, 
 pale, meagre, trembling being before her ! 
 How I kept my senses I know not ; but 
 I did keep them, thou|,di I could doubt 
 the horrid truth no longer. 
 
 "Yet I have thought that two con-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 233 
 
 victions supported me, and assuaged 
 my misery : — the one was, that perhaps 
 the want of a certain sum of money, as 
 much^ or even more than love, prompted 
 Seymour to marry this unhappy girl, who 
 had, by writing to him, thrown the temp- 
 tation in his way; — the other was, that he 
 had not seduced her, and that she was 
 still in the sight of Heaven, and in- 
 deed of man, as innocent as if she had 
 never seen him. 
 
 *^ Yes — great as was his guilt towards 
 her and towards me, I felt a degree of 
 consolation in this last thought, which 
 worlds would not have bought of me. 
 
 *' As soon as I had learnt from her all 
 I wai^ted to know, — and her voluble sim- 
 plicity made my task so far easy, — I com- 
 plained of being ill, (which indeed was 
 really the case,) as an excuse for sinking 
 into total silence, that I might decide how 
 it became me to act on this most trying 
 occasion of my life ; — for what can equal
 
 234 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 the agony of finding that the object on 
 whom you have doted is utterly despi- 
 cable^ utterly unworthy of your love ? 
 
 " Sometimes it appeared to me that I 
 should do a cruel action in withdrawing 
 the veil that hid this poor woman's real 
 situation from her ; for while she believed 
 herself a wife, she was innocent; but then, 
 if I did not enlighten her on this subject, I 
 was conniving at my husband's continuing 
 to live in the commission of crime. And 
 now she was an innocent woman only : if, 
 when told the truth, she instantly re- 
 solved to leave him, then she would be- 
 come a virtuous one, and this it was my 
 duty to give her an opportunity of being. 
 But when I recollected that I must cloud 
 over that fair and open brow with con- 
 scious shame, my heart died within me ; 
 and I felt this the hardest task and the 
 severest trial wliichh the vices of my hus- 
 band had been the means of imposing 
 upon me.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 235 
 
 " At length we reached her house ; and 
 finding me still very ill, she asked me to 
 alight, a civihty which I expected, and 
 whicli I had determined to accept. Let 
 me own my weakness . Since I knew who 
 the father was, the sight of the child, who 
 sat opposite to me, was nearly insupport- 
 able to me^ by recalling a number of 
 overwhelming recollections, and I fre« 
 quently closed my eyes that I might shut 
 out him. 
 
 "While the poor innocent, unconscious 
 of the blow that awaited her, was gone 
 to procure me some lavender drops, I 
 looked round the room, which was neatly, 
 not gaily furnished ; and the first thing 
 that met my view was a picture of Mr. 
 Seymour. It was so like him, so like him 
 with his best expression, that I resolved 
 not to look at it again, as I wished to re- 
 collect him only as his mind and temper 
 made him appear in my presence, and I 
 turned to other objects. The poor Emily 
 (for that was her name) now re-entere -
 
 236 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 the room. I took the drops, and she seat- 
 ed herself beside me. 
 
 " ' Our house is small,' said she, ' but 
 we keep no company; my husband's con- 
 nexions and family are superior to his for- 
 tune; and as he could not afford to give en- 
 tertainments in return, he does not intro- 
 duce me to any one, but neither owns nor 
 conceals his marriage ; and so as I do but 
 see him I am happy. But, alas ! I see very 
 little of him : he has a place which takes up 
 much of his time, and he has also an old 
 uncle out of town, to whom he is forced 
 to pay constant attention ; so that he sel- 
 dom spends more than two whole days 
 in a week with me ; and those are Satur- 
 day and Sunday.' I instantly remembered 
 that he always told me he went into the 
 country on those days to the house of 
 Lord N. To what falsehoods and what 
 base acts was he thus continually forced 
 to have recourse, to deceive and satisfy 
 . even this unsuspecting creature! How 
 my heart bled for her, while I almost
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 23/ 
 
 execrated her destroyer ! And who was 
 he ? Dread thought ! he was my hus- 
 hand ! Yet, amidst all her wrongs, I was 
 not sure that a lurking weakness in my 
 heart did not make me envy her; for he 
 loved her — always had loved her ; and she 
 probably was a stranger to those dreadful 
 proofs of uncontrolled temper which had 
 made my life wretched : — Had made — 
 for at that moment I resolved never to 
 live with him again, but abandon him 
 to the narrow income which his crimes 
 deserved. 
 
 '^ The morning was now wearing away, 
 and yet I wanted courage to perform the 
 dreadful office that awaited me. But in 
 silence and in sadness, and in deep hu- 
 mility of spirit^ I lifted up my heart to 
 Him who could alone support and guide 
 me; and when I again took my hand from 
 my face, it was with a determination to 
 go through my duty immediately. * See, 
 that is my husband's picture!' said the 
 poor Emily ; giving it into my hand (for
 
 238 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 it was a miniature) with pride and plea- 
 sure. 
 
 " *I see it is Mr. Seymour's picture/ 
 I coldly replied. 
 
 " ' What ! did you then ever see 
 him ? ' 
 
 '* ^ Yes, I have seen him ; and I regret 
 the hour when I first saw him : — but still 
 , more for your sake, dear unconscious 
 victim, do I regret the hour when ?/aii 
 first saw him; and I, alas ! must teach you 
 to regret it also.' 
 
 " I believe the poor thing thought me 
 insane ; and alarming as that fear was, 
 it was comfort to the feelings which suc- 
 ceeded it. 
 
 " She still held the picture. I took it 
 from her; I looked at it, and burst into an 
 agony of tears. They did me good, and 
 I was soon able to proceed. * You told 
 me this was the picture of yozrr /u/,s^- 
 hamL I replied, ' I see it is the picture 
 . of Mr. Seymour.' — Did you not mark 
 something evasive in my reply "^ '
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 239 
 
 "A no faltered on her lips ; she was 
 too much agitated to speak plainly. 
 
 ** ' I meant, dear deluded innocent, — 
 for such you are, and remember it to your 
 consolation, — that it was the picture of 
 Mr. Seymour, not oi your husband \ for 
 he is mine — my husband. I was the Miss 
 Fortescue whom Sedley Seymour mar- 
 ried; and he has no uncle.' 
 
 *' I cannot describe the expression of 
 her countenance when I said this ! She 
 fixed her eyes on me with a wild stare, 
 and then with a sort of mad laugh ex- 
 claimed, ' No, no — no — no — that's ini- 
 possible r 
 
 " * Well it were,' replied I in emotion 
 nearly equal to her own : ' but you know 
 his hand-writing, therefore read this and 
 be convinced.' — So saying, I put the fol- 
 lowing note into her hand, which I hap- 
 pened to have in my pockety showing her 
 the address first. 
 
 '' * I shall not dine at home to-day,
 
 240 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 Louisa ; but I mean to attend your as- 
 sembly this evening with Lord and Lady 
 Nelvin.' 
 
 ** She read — slie heaved a few hyste- 
 rical sobs, and I received her senseless in 
 my arms. 
 
 ** The suspension, the happy suspen- 
 sion of life as I may call it, was only tem- 
 poraiy ; and never shall I forget the look 
 of woe with which slie opened her eyes 
 and gazed on me 1 Then, hiding her face, 
 she fell at my feet, and embracing my 
 knees begged me to forgive her. 
 
 " 'Forgive thee! my poor child,' said 
 I, tenderly embracing her : ' What par- 
 don hast thou to ask ? Unconsciously 
 thou hast invaded my rights : and I re 
 repeat — Remember, you are innocent ; 
 and if you are capable of being virtuous 
 also, I will be your friend, your mother, 
 and a mother to your infant : I have the 
 ineans^ and I have the will to save and 
 to protect you ! '
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 241 
 
 ^' * Then I must leave him — never see 
 him more, I suppose?' she cried with a 
 scream of phrensy ; and a long and ter- 
 rible paroxysm succeeded. 
 
 ** Painful would it have been to me to 
 witness such an one at any time, and in 
 any human being ; — but to think that my 
 husband occasioned it — rendered me near- 
 ly wild myself. 
 
 "Not. to be tedious, let me add, that 
 when she became composed, I again told 
 her that if she continued to hve with Sey- 
 mour after what she had heard, she would 
 cease to be innocent, and would deserve 
 to forfeit mine and every one's respect ; 
 but that, if she liad resolution to leave her 
 betrayer she would then be virtuous, — and 
 so virtuous, that every one who knew her 
 story would delight to praise her and to 
 befriend her. 
 
 *• She owned the truth of all I said, but 
 doubted her resolution : and at length 
 she conjured me to take her and her child 
 
 VOL. T. M
 
 242 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 away directly^ and hide them from Sey- 
 mour forever; for if she saw him again, she 
 was sure she should not have the heart 
 to leave him. 
 
 " How I felt for this child of unaffected 
 nature ! How tender were the tears I shed 
 over her ! I forgot she was my rival, and 
 I believe she forgot that I was hers ; or 
 rather that while I lived she could not be 
 a wife ; she seemed to remember nothing 
 of me but that she had injured me, and 
 that I forgave her. 
 
 '* Her proposal, if feasible, I was desi- 
 rous to comply with ; and was consider- 
 ing whither I could take her, when we 
 heard a hasty step on the stairs — and 
 Seymour burst into the room. On seeing 
 him Emily screamed, and hid her face in 
 my bosom ; while I, bold in innocence, 
 and proud to be thus chosen as the pro- 
 tector of injured innocence, awaited his 
 approach with a firm and unvarying coun- 
 tenance.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 243 
 
 " He was seemingly awed a moment, 
 and lost his, usually, undaunted air and 
 manner. 
 
 " * So, madam,' he at length exclaimed, 
 *is this well done of you, to keep spies upon 
 my actions^ and force yourself into a house 
 that calls me master ? Here^ madam, at 
 least I am independent of a mean and 
 treacherous wife, and I can rid myself of 
 an object that is odious to me. Go, I 
 conunand you, hence ! on the obedience 
 which you owe me, and which you pre- 
 tend to pay.' 
 
 *' * After what I now know of you, Mr. 
 Seymour/ replied I with a firm voice 
 and look, though my tongue was parched 
 with emotion, ' your presence, sir, is 
 to me as odious as mine has long been 
 to you. Your brutal violence of temper 
 I could bear, — for lately at least it has in- 
 jured only myself; but your profligate 
 destruction of this lovely innocent I 
 cannot forgive — I cannot excuse.' 
 m2
 
 244 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 *" No !' exclaimed he, * cannot her 
 exceUing beauty excuse it ? Look on her, 
 madam. In what is she not your su- 
 perior, except in fortune ? And she does 
 not make the wills of doting old men, to 
 render the man whom she pretends to love 
 a dependent on her caprice. Yes, madam, 
 in every thing but fortune she is your 
 superior — in youth, in beauty, in good- 
 ness of heart ; — and she is as free from stain 
 as you are ; aye, and but for you she would 
 have continued happy, for she loves me, 
 and I dote on her ; yes, bat for you we 
 had been happy still. Hark ye, madam, 
 as some reparation for the cursed trick 
 which you have now played me, do me one 
 favour.' 
 
 " ' Name it.' 
 
 ** * Die, madam — die!' he exclaimed 
 with frantic earnestness and the look of 
 a demon ; * Die ! that I mav make that 
 angel amends for all she is now suffering, 
 by making her legally my wife.'
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 245 
 
 " I thought I had ah'eady gone through 
 the worst of my sufferings : but to hear 
 the beina: for whom I had sacrificed so 
 much, and suffered so much, desire me, 
 as the only favour I could do him, to die, 
 that he might marry another — nearly 
 drove me to a desperation equal to his own ; 
 and even the woe-worn Emily exclaim- 
 ed, ' Shame ! shame on you, Seymour ! ' 
 
 '* * I will save you, sir,' said I after a 
 long struggle with myself, and speaking 
 with effort, ' I will save you from the 
 further guilt of rufhan treatment like this ; 
 I leave it to that lady to explain why I 
 am here, and how. Sir, while enume- 
 rating the advantages which that much- 
 injured being has over me, you omitted 
 the greatest in my eyes — that she is 7iot 
 your iv'ife' 
 
 " So saying, I left the room: and 
 Seymour, who had never seen me show 
 any thing like spirit before, seemed con- 
 founded at this exertion of it ; and I went
 
 246 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 unimpeded to my carriage. But when I 
 reached home, the servants found me in 
 a swoon at the bottom of the coach ; nor 
 was I able to leave my bed for two days. 
 Seymour did not come home during 
 the time, and I was very anxious to 
 know whether that time was passed with 
 Emily. 
 
 '' At the end of the third day he re- 
 turned, and burst into my room like a man 
 devoid of reason. ^ Where have you 
 hidden her ? Whither have you taken 
 Emily and my child ?' he cried. * Give 
 them back to me, or take the conse- 
 quences ! ' And as he said this he grasp- 
 ed my arm till I shrieked aloud with J 
 agony. 
 
 " ' Has she then left you ? — ^Noble 
 girl !' I exclaimed in a transport of joy. 
 
 ** ' You know she has, accursed hypo- 
 crite ! — and tell me where she is this 
 moment.* 
 
 " * You know me to be no hypocrite,'
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 24/ 
 
 I replied, ' and that neitlier my woe nor 
 my joy is ever feigned. If she has left 
 your protection I rejoice, and I honour 
 her ; and all I regret is, that she has not 
 fled to me,* 
 
 ** * Am I to believe then,' said he, 
 turning very pale, * that she has left me, 
 and has not flown to you ? Then am I 
 more wretched than before, — for what, 
 O what, can have become of her ! ' 
 
 " * What, indeed ! ' repeated I. And 
 Seymour, assured by my manner that I 
 was as much alarmed as himself, left me 
 with the same impetuosity as marked his 
 entrance. 
 
 ^* The next morning by the two-penny 
 post I received a note in a hand which I 
 did not know. I opened it, and found 
 with delight that it was signed ' Emily/ 
 
 ** It was dated from an obscure lodging 
 in the Borough, and it claimed the pro- 
 tection for her and her child which I had 
 promised her.
 
 248 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 '' My resolution was instantly taken, 
 and my plan laid. I ordered a post- 
 chaise to meet me on Blackfriars -bridge, 
 whither I drove in my own coach, taking 
 my own maid with me. There I dismissed 
 it, and got into the chaise, desiring it to 
 drive me to Flint's on Fish-street-hill. 
 When there, I ordered the chaise to Emi- 
 ly's lodgings. As soon as she saw me, she 
 threv/ herself into my arms. 
 
 " ' You and virtue have conquered,' 
 said she ; * but Oh ! I have suffered 
 much. While he remained with me 
 after you left us, I thought I could never 
 leave him ; and I promised not to forsake 
 him, though it was become wicked in 
 me to live with him now ; and on the 
 strength of my assurances he went into 
 the country to some races. But better 
 feelings gained ascendancy over me ; 
 and before he returned I was gone. — 
 And now do take me where I shall never 
 see him again !'
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 249 
 
 ** I told her I was come for that pur- 
 pose. And I took her and her child to a 
 reth-ed and pleasant seat of mine, which 
 I inherited from Mr. Arlington, about ten 
 miles from Lovelands ; but so secluded 
 that no one going along the high road 
 could imagine there was a house near. 
 And there, on pretence that she was a 
 friend of mine in ill health, to whom 
 change of air v/as necessary, I left her 
 settled, as I hope, for life. Before we 
 parted, I engaged servants to wait on 
 her, and told her that I would allow her 
 an income equal to her own fortune, which, 
 I had no doubt, had been entirely wasted ; 
 and that I would settle a fortune on her 
 child. 
 
 ** In three days, having seen her tolera- 
 bly composed, I went to the Lawn-House 
 with a lightened heart ; and thither I had 
 ordered my carriage, in which I returned 
 to London. 
 
 " * So, madam,* said Seymour when 
 M 5
 
 250 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 he saw me^ which was not till a week after 
 my return, ' this is the way in which you 
 virtuous wives behave, is it ? You leave 
 home unknown to your husband, and are 
 absent for days without his knowing 
 where you are ! ' 
 
 *^ * Under most circumstances such 
 conduct would^ I know, be wrong,' said 
 I ; * but those I acted under were so im- 
 perious that I could not do otherwise than 
 I have done : and remember, that I did 
 not go alone ; — I made a highly respected 
 servant the witness of my conduct and 
 the companion of my journey. — Have 
 you heard of your Emily, sir ?' 
 
 *' * No ; and I am very uneasy : — Have 
 you ?' 
 
 '* ' I have. She applied to me for 
 protection after I last saw you ; and I 
 have protected her, and will protect her 
 from you.' 
 
 " 'Where is she .p' 
 
 ** * Did I not tell you I would protect
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 251 
 
 her from you ? — Then how can I tell you 
 where she is ?* 
 
 " * I will know.' 
 
 ^* ^ Never ! from 7ne.'' 
 
 " I will not relate all that passed : 
 but I thought I perceived^ spite of his 
 violence, that he was relieved of a 
 burthen; and that provided he could but 
 see her now and then, (and he hoped to 
 find out. her abode,) he was very glad to 
 have her maintained by another. 
 
 *' ' And you have really undertaken 
 to maintain her and the child ?' said he : *I 
 hope you do it handsomely : — she is a gen- 
 tlewoman, Louisa, and has had the edu- 
 cation and the fortune of one.' 
 
 " * Handsomely ! Do you doubt it ?* 
 
 *' ' No^ on my honour, I do not/ he 
 replied with more feeling than I ever 
 saw in him before : ' No, Louisa, no ; 
 I do you justice ; and I believe that 
 the allowance is far, far beyond what any 
 one but yourself would think sufficient.'
 
 252 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 " ' In what I have done,' replied I, * I 
 have sought the approbation of my own 
 conscience, and that is enough ; but let 
 me tell you, to put your heart entirely at 
 rest, that if I die to-morrovv' — ' here my 
 voice faltered, from recollection of his 
 wishing me to die — ^ your child will have 
 a sufficient fortune, and his mother will 
 be no mean heiress to her husband.* 
 
 " The look he gave me at this moment 
 is almost the only look of his which, since 
 we married, I can recollect with pleasure. 
 Tears filled his eyes, as he gazed on me 
 mournfully, tenderly, and reverentially I 
 may say: — then snatching my hand to his 
 lips, he rushed out of the room. 
 
 " It was our last meeting ! — I saw him 
 no more ! 
 
 ** He wT.nt, I understand, that night 
 to the gaming-table, and remained there 
 till the second night; when, having lostall 
 that he played for, in an evil hour he used 
 some gentleman's name improperly, in
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 253 
 
 a money transaction, of which indeed I 
 chose never to hear an explanation ; — 
 but it was, in some way or other, a disho- 
 nourable transaction, and he was forced 
 to fly the country. 
 
 " Shocked as I was at the cause, 
 I was rejoiced by the effect; we were now 
 separated without any painful exertion of 
 mine ; I was at liberty to live for my- 
 self and. the pursuits I loved ; and was no 
 longer hanging for joy, or grief, on the 
 smiles and frowns of a tvrant. The first 
 use I made of my liberty was to remove 
 to the Lawn-House, and quit London en- 
 tirely. 
 
 " All that I could do for my un- 
 happy husband I did; and the income 
 which I derived from the fortune my 
 father left me, abroad as well as here, I 
 no sooner received than I transmitted it 
 to him. 
 
 " He often entreated me to relax in 
 my rigour, and let him know where
 
 254 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 Emily resided, as he could not distress 
 her now by his visits. But I knew he 
 would try to prevail on her by letter to 
 come over and cheer his exile, and I wish- 
 ed to preserve her from all temptation. 
 
 '^ She was, however, fortified against 
 it, in a way I little expected; — she had 
 had a most religious and virtuous educa- 
 tion, and it was her piety which enabled 
 her to resist the pleadings of her heart. 
 
 ** As soon as it was known that Sey- 
 mour had left England, and that I was 
 not to be the sharer of his exile, — a sacri- 
 fice which even he did not dare to ask of 
 me, after my knowledge of his real cha- 
 racter- — Mr. Arlington's executor put a 
 letter into my hand, which he was desired 
 to give me, only in case I was ever sepa- 
 rated from my husband. 
 
 *' I was now separated from him, and 
 the letter was, consequently, gi\^n me. 
 Mr. Arlington's letter began by requiring 
 that I should drop the name of Seymour,.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 255 
 
 and assume that of Arlington ; a requi- 
 sition with which I was not sorry to com- 
 ply. It went on to advise, that when I 
 was placed in that situation, the most dan- 
 gerous^ as he said, to a young and beauti- 
 ful woman, (and I was then only twenty- 
 seven,) viz. separation from a profligate 
 husband, I should retire from the world of 
 London, and live at the Lawn House, or at 
 any other of my seats. That in order to 
 make me amends for quitting London, 
 he had tried to convert the Lawn House 
 into the abode of every means of amuse- 
 ment, and had therefore built a music- 
 room, a banqueting-room, and a theatre, 
 and had given me in perfection the eastern 
 and Turkish luxury of baths according 
 to the best model. 
 
 *^ He also begged, as he was fond of 
 pomp and show, and had been accustomed 
 to Lidian splendour, that I would always 
 keep up a state equal to my fortune, and 
 becoming my relationship, on the paternal
 
 256 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR^ 
 
 and maternal side, to two noble families ; 
 and he insisted that I should never go 
 ont without outriders and four horses, 
 and that I should have a groom of the 
 chamber, servants for the baths, and a 
 set of rowers for my barge ; in short, every 
 thing in the highest style possible. 
 
 "I was glad to live at the Lawn-house: 
 but it was painful to me to assume that state 
 which he required of me ; and I was sorry 
 that he could suppose, as I conclude 
 he did, that grandeur could make me a- 
 mendsfor the want of domestic happiness. 
 However, as you saw, I have obeyed him 
 a la lettre\ and in the recovered society 
 of those early friends whom I neglected, 
 to please my husband ; in the duties which 
 my great wealth entailed on me ; and in the 
 cultivation of my mind, and the little ta- 
 lents I possess, I am become, compared to 
 what I have been, happy. 
 
 " But never can I forget the deplorable 
 error which I made in the choice of a hus-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 2^7 
 
 band ; never forgive myself my determined 
 preference of a man like Sedley Seymour! 
 
 ** It was not only my perseverance in 
 an attachment which my parents disap- 
 proved, that weighed heavily on my con- 
 science; but it was my own want of a 
 proper moral sense and of virtuous delicacy 
 in not feeling, when I heard from indis- 
 putable authority that Seymour was a 
 man of immoral habits, that purity can- 
 not have any sympathy with impurity^ 
 and that ijmocence ought to shrink from 
 any intimate association with ince. 
 
 *' Seymour might be belied, his faults 
 might be exaggerated ; but even he him- 
 self did not deny that his temper was bad 
 and his conduct dissolute . Then how 
 could a girl of moral habits and reli- 
 gious restraints think herself justified in 
 intrusting the guardianship of her happi- 
 ness to a man of a most detestable tem- 
 per; and of her morals and her religion 
 to a sceptical and notorious profligate !
 
 258 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 *' But my fault had brought its punish- 
 ment along with it; — and while I ad- 
 mitted, I humbly and patiently bowed be- 
 neath this striking instance of retributive 
 justice. 
 
 " Little now remains to be told, except 
 that poor Emily, whom I frequently see 
 here, or at her own house^ has lost her 
 child ; an event which, under the circum- 
 stances of his birth, I have tried to con- 
 vince her, was not greatly to be deplored. 
 She has engaged the affections of a 
 worthy young man with a good fortune, in 
 her neighbourhood, who knows her story, 
 and whom she thinks, under other cir- 
 cumstances, she could like ; but while 
 Seymour lives she is resolved never to 
 marry. 
 
 *' And he does live, though in exile ; 
 lives too, I fear, in a way which virtue can- 
 not approve; and which, therefore, keeps 
 up constantly in me that pain of mind which 
 I felt at first learning of his dreadful devia-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 269 
 
 tions from moral rectitude. But we have 
 now been separated three years ; and time, 
 which insensibly has weakened my affec- 
 tion for him, gradually will weaken my 
 sorrow for his sin. 
 
 *^ He sometimes writes to me, and now 
 he rarely mentions Emily ; but his last let- 
 ter was written in such a tone of despond- 
 ency, that if he wishes to see me, I intend 
 to go over to him. 
 
 " Now, dear Mrs. Derville, can you 
 wonder that I was wounded at your 
 hesitating to return, for any empty plea- 
 sure which I could offer you, to such a 
 husband as yours ? Canyon wonder that 
 my eye reproved you, when I also found 
 that beloved husband expected you ? And 
 can you be surprised, when I tell you that 
 I would exchange all my possessions, large 
 as they are, for such a home as yours ? 
 
 ^'From the indulgence of virtuous ciffec- 
 tw?is, and from them alone, can flow the 
 happiness of life; and mine, all glowing as
 
 260 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 they are, have been thrown back upon my 
 heart, to consume it with its ov/n fires. 
 " Before I conclude, let me assure you, 
 that thou-di I wished, when I discovered 
 certain feelings in you, to tell you the real 
 situation of the woman whom you envied, 
 and to show you the dessous des cartes, I 
 could not prevail on myself to unveil my 
 husband's faults so completely to any one, 
 and I resolved to forbear. But when I 
 beheld you afterwards as the preserver of 
 my life, I felt it to be my duty to show my 
 gratitude to you in the most effective way 
 possible ; and I humbly hope that, in my 
 earnest endeavour to do my duty by you, 
 I have not violated the duty which is owing 
 even to an unworthy husband. But it is 
 only under the seal of the strictest secrecy 
 that I give you this narrative; and when 
 you have read it to your husband and your 
 family, find some opportunity to return 
 it to me again. 
 
 *' Louisa Arlington."
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 261 
 
 It was not without many interruptions 
 that Derville read this manuscript. Mrs. 
 DerviJle was affected even to agony at 
 some of the sufferings of her friend ; and 
 often was the narrative laid down, while 
 Derville indulged himself in expressions 
 of wonder that there could be such a hus- 
 band — " and to such a woman," added 
 his son. — And when it was ended, Mrs. 
 Derville -wept long and uncontroUedly, 
 not so much for Mrs. Arlington's unhap- 
 piness, as for the thankless unconscious- 
 ness of her own happiness, which she had 
 herself displayed . 
 
 But in the midst of her self-upbraid- 
 ings, she was consoled by the hope that her 
 generous friend had not admonished in 
 vain ; that the remedy was efhcacious, and 
 the cure complete ; and that if Mrs . Arling- 
 ton ovved her life to her, she was likely to 
 owe a much greater obligation to Mrs. 
 Arlington — the security of her domestic 
 happiness.
 
 262 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 " Well, Frederic," said Mrs. Derville, 
 '' and what do you think of Mrs. Arling- 
 ton now ?'' 
 
 " Tliink of her ? That she had better 
 not come to Lovelands," he replied 
 (wishing to hide a great dejll of deeply 
 awakened feeling under a little veil of 
 pleasantry) . 
 
 " Better not come to Lovelands !" they 
 all exclaimed. '^ Why not ?" 
 
 *' Lest I should fall in love with her ; 
 and then, perhaps, in humble imitation of 
 her amiable husband, I should probably 
 •ay to you, Anna, 'Die, madam, die! as 
 the only favour you can now do me ! ' " 
 
 '' Dear papa, I am sure you could not 
 be so wicked !" cried Mary Ann. • 
 
 *' No, dear child, no ; I trust I could 
 not ; and I was only joking : but it was 
 a bad joke ; and indeed I think the 
 dreadful state of this wretched Mr. Sey- 
 mour's mind and feelings, is not to be 
 thought of with any feeling like pleasan-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 263 
 
 try — but with sentiments of the deepest 
 commiseration." And he went on to 
 say, that though Mrs. Arhngton did not 
 express much on the subject, he was con- 
 vinced that she felt a great deal; and he ear- 
 nestly hoped that before Mr. Seymour died, 
 and his life would probably not be long, his 
 wife might have the'satisfaction of know- 
 ing that he repented of his sins. 
 
 ** O dear papa, if he could but hear 
 you preach !" cried Mary Ann, ** and 
 preach that sermon * on calling sinners to 
 repentance !' " 
 
 Derville could not help smiling at 
 Mar}' Ann's high idea of his powers as 
 a preacher ; and her observation certainly 
 did not lessen the fervour of her mother's 
 kiss, as she desired her to go to bed di- 
 rectly, for it was past eleven o'clock. 
 
 *^ Past eleven o'clock, manuna, and I 
 still up ! What will Mrs. Arlington say 
 when she hears it ?'' Then, with her little 
 heart full of pity, for Mrs. Arlington's 
 trials, and of self-importance to think
 
 264 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 she had had a secret intrusted to her 
 which she must impart to no one, Alary 
 Ann went to her chamber for the first 
 time in her hfe in a slow foot's pace. 
 
 Sally was surprised, and asked if she 
 was unwell ; but Mary Ann consequen- 
 tially replied, '' No — only thoughtful :" 
 and as she saw she had excited Sally's 
 curiosity, she was good-naturedly sorry 
 that she could not impart to her usual 
 confidante all the interesting things she 
 had heard. 
 
 The next day they all wrote to Mrs. 
 Arlington ; but Mrs. Derville's letter was 
 blotted with many precious tears, as her 
 kind monitor thought them. 
 
 That evening brought a hamper from 
 London directed for Mrs. Derville, con- 
 taining a breakfast set, and a duplicate 
 of every convenience for the table and 
 in the breakfast-room, which Mrs. Der- 
 ville had admired at the Lawn-House ; 
 and with it came the following letter from 
 Mrs. Arlington, dated
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 255 
 
 '' Tx)ndon. 
 
 *' When you receive the memorial of 
 your absent friend, which this accompa- 
 nies, I shall be on my road to my poor 
 husband. He has had a fit ; and I am 
 informed by a friend on whom I can de- 
 pend, that he is in a declining state, and 
 has removed from the neighbourhood of 
 Paris to Boulogne, for the benefit of the 
 sea air. He adds also that he is living 
 there in poor lodgings, and has not good 
 attendance. You will suppose therefore 
 that I have not hesitated one moment to 
 set off for Boulogne. I shall take a 
 house, and give the invalid an invitation 
 to remove to it if he chooses. Farewell! 
 All good attend you ! 
 
 " Your kind letters beguiled me of no 
 unpleasing tears ; you all felt and wrote 
 as I knew you would, and wished you 
 should, feel and write ; and I wear in 
 ' my heart's core' dear Mary Ann s as- 
 surance that she would now never go to 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 sleep till she had prayed God to bles^ 
 and comfort poor dear Mrs. Arlington. 
 
 '' Once more farewell ! I will write to 
 you as soon as I am landed. 
 
 " Ever your grateful 
 
 «L. A." 
 
 She kept her word, and Mrs. Derville 
 received the following letter, dated 
 
 *' Boulogne. 
 
 '' My journey was short, my voyage 
 prosperous, and I am here in the largest 
 house I could procure, and in the' most 
 airy situation possible. By this tune 
 my husband knows I am at Boulogne ; 
 and while I am writing to you, I am 
 anxiously awaiting the result. I hear 
 he is very ill, and ordered to the South of 
 France as soon as he can be moved. 
 
 " It will gratify you to learn that I 
 have most unexpectedly met at Boulogne 
 some distant relations of my mother, and 
 once dear friends of mine — Lady Arling-
 
 ALL LS NOT GOLD THAT GILTTER9. 267 
 
 ton and her daughters. Her younger 
 son, now her only one, is also here : — 
 they are on their way to Paris and to 
 Rome ; but will not proceed while Mr. 
 Seymour is in his present state. 
 
 '' My ambassador to my poor husband 
 is returned. He was, I find, much affect- 
 ed at hearing of my arrival, and at re- 
 ceiving my message. He accepts my 
 invitation, and I am now going to super- 
 intend his removal hither. Oh, what an 
 interview ! and what new trials await me ! 
 
 '' Pray for me, Mr. Derville ! pray for 
 me ! I will write again in a day or two. 
 
 - L. A." 
 
 Her next letter ran thus : — 
 
 '' Do not expect me to describe our 
 first meeting ! I cannot do it. Such a 
 change in. his appearance! Old! ema- 
 ciated ! wan ! 
 
 " We moved him at last without much 
 inconvenience to himself, and I had the 
 N 2
 
 268 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 comfort to see that he was dissatisiied 
 with every one's suggestions and manage- 
 ment but mine. Still this little pleasure 
 was soon forgotten in a great pain which 
 he inflicted. 
 
 " When he was settled in my house, 
 and laid in his new and comfortable bed, 
 he called me to him, and said, 
 
 ^' ' I suppose, Louisa, you wish me to 
 believe you came hither only on my ac- 
 count.^' 
 
 " ' I never wish you to believe what is 
 false — you know I do not; and I did come 
 hither merely on your account.' 
 
 * * ' O fie ! — Do you pretend to tell me 
 you did not know Sir Henry Arlington 
 was here.^'- — (Sir H. Arlington is that 
 early lover of mine, whom I mentioned 
 to you.) 
 
 *' * I did not know it : — but I am 
 ashamed,' I added, * of you for asking 
 such a question, and of myself for deign- 
 ing to reply to it. You know enough of
 
 ALL is NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 269 
 
 me to be sure that I came hither merely 
 on your account, and tliat Sir Henry 
 Arlington is the last man whom I should 
 have sought/ 
 
 " At this moment, sent for by my hus- 
 band I found. Sir Henry Arlington en- 
 tered the room, and but for my earnest 
 entreaties he would have told him his 
 suspicions and my answer i however, he 
 did for once obey me ; but he talked at 
 us during Sir Henry's whole visit. No 
 proof this of any improvement in his 
 temper and feelings ; but I expect some 
 good to result from his daily intercourse 
 with my excellent relation. He is al- 
 ways wishing for Sir Henry to be with 
 him ; and for rational piety and powers 
 of arguing I know not his equal, and I 
 feel less wretched than I did. Farewell ! 
 My next will tell you we are going to 
 Nice, or that all is over. 
 
 ** Yours ever."
 
 270 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 The phrase ' all is over' was wi'itten 
 in an almost illegible hand, and blotted 
 with a tear. Soon after came another 
 letter, beginning — 
 
 " All IS over — but do not ask parti- 
 culars of a scene which, though I can ne- 
 ver forget, I can never describe ! Still 
 it had for me much of comfort. Such 
 remorse ! such an agonized consciousness 
 of his own cruelty to me, and my forbear- 
 ance ! Oh, may that Being whom he so 
 long and deeply offended, forgive him as 
 I have done ! 
 
 *' It will be long ere you and I meet 
 again, my dear friends; for my health is 
 delicate, and requires milder air, and my 
 mind \\ ants the relief of change of scene. 
 I shall therefore accompany Lady Arling- 
 ton and her daughters to Rome ; and re- 
 main en attendant with Fanny Arlington 
 in the neighbourhood of Paris, till the rest
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 2/1 
 
 are ready to set off for Italy, where Sir 
 Henry will join us some months hence. 
 
 " I will write to you de temps en 
 temps ; and pray write to me inmiediate- 
 ly to. Paris, poste restante. Farewell ! 
 
 *^ Ever yours, in much affection, 
 
 " L. A." 
 
 " Poor thing!" exclaimed Derville, 
 when he had finished reading this letter 
 aloud to his weeping wife, who entered 
 into all his feelings on the occasion. But 
 Jane and Lionel were more inclined to 
 call Mrs. Arlington happy, and rejoice 
 in her liberation from ties so painful and 
 unworthy of her. Still, checked by their 
 mother's tears and father's exclamation, 
 they remained silent. 
 
 But Mary Ann said, " Poor thing! 
 Papa, do you call Mrs. Arlington poor 
 now, when she has no longer that cruel 
 man to torment her ? Surely, papa, this
 
 272 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 is one of those losses which I have heard 
 you call gains !" 
 
 ** It is so to Mrs. Arlington, certain- 
 ly ; — but then she has, my dear, a pain- 
 ful habit of thinking of the interests of 
 others as well as of her own ; and I am 
 sure that she would have wished it had 
 been the will of Providence, that her 
 erring husband had been spared for years 
 of penitence and amendment. Besides, 
 under its best circumstances, a death -bed 
 is an awful and affecting scene ; and as the 
 final separation even of those who have 
 not lived in love, though connected by 
 the closest ties, is a trying moment,, 
 it is evident from this poor lady's letter, 
 that the death-bed scene of her husband 
 was a trial to her indeed — looking back 
 as she must have done to his progress 
 through this world, and forward for him 
 to the world to come. — Therefore, Mary 
 Ann, I repeat my epithet of * Poor
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 2/3 
 
 thing r and when I write to your muni- 
 ficent friend, I shall not congratulate her 
 on her recovered freedom and the loss of 
 a tormentor, but condole with her on 
 this last severe affliction. However, 
 Mary Ann, I hope that this is really the 
 last; and that, when the recollection of 
 her recent suffering is in a degree passed 
 away, her days to come will be as happy 
 as we wish them to be." 
 
 At this moment a meaning look and 
 an intelligent smile passed between Lio- 
 nel and Jane ; and little Mary Ann said, 
 *^ I wonder whether poor Mrs. Arlington 
 will marry again, papa !" 
 
 Derville had observed the look and 
 smile, and was amused at Mary Ann's 
 conscious comment on them ; — but he 
 only replied. '* These are early times yet, 
 Mary x\nn, to form any conjectures on 
 that subject ; but Mrs. Arlington seems 
 so formed to shine both as a wife and 
 mother, that, if there be a man of her ac- 
 N 5
 
 274 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 quaintance really deserving of her, I 
 should be glad to hear that she was mar- 
 ried again." 
 
 " I should be glad also to see her 
 again," said Mrs. Derville, " and I shall 
 think it long till she returns from 
 Italy." 
 
 And had she been a less happy woman 
 Mrs. Derville would have found the time 
 long indeed ; for a twelvemonth passed 
 away, and still Mrs. Arhngton remained 
 abroad; and though she wrote twice or 
 thrice during that period, she did not 
 talk of returning ; while every letter 
 betokened increasing cheerfulness. 
 
 Mrs. Derville meanwhile had expe- 
 rienced a conscious improvement in her 
 manner of considering her lot in life, and 
 every thing which surrounded her, in con- 
 sequence of the contrast which she had 
 been enabled to draw between her humble 
 sphere of worldly action and Mrs. Ar- 
 Hngton's splendid state, and her happi-
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 27o 
 
 ness was increased also by the birth of 
 another son. 
 
 But though Mrs. Derville had not 
 only ceased to wish for improvements in 
 the furniture and decorations of the par- 
 sonage, and was ever eager to express 
 her entire contentment, her attentive and 
 grateful husband had not forgotten her 
 wishes ; and he was the more willing to 
 remember them, when he found she had 
 forgotten them herself. 
 
 Accordingly a cart stopped at the door 
 one day, laden with packages, just ar- 
 rived by the waggon from London, which 
 were all directed to Mrs. Derville. 
 
 " Some new proof, I suppose," said she, 
 *^ of Mrs. Arlington's grateful remem- 
 brance ; but I had rather she had sent me 
 word that she was coming home, and 
 hither." 
 
 Derville smiled, and assisted to un- 
 pack the goods. They consisted of a set 
 of neat light small mahogany chairs with
 
 276 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 leather bottoms, fitted for a dining- 
 room, and meant to replace the large 
 and heavy ones of which Mrs. Derville 
 had complained ; and a pair of chaises 
 tongues, to replace the cumbrous sofa. 
 There were also curtains and a carpet 
 proper for a dining-room. 
 
 Mrs. Derville was gratified at the sup- 
 posed attention ofher new friend, though 
 her pride was a little wounded at a second 
 obligation of this nature ; and she beheld 
 the handsome gift with feelings almost 
 quiet enough to disappoint her husband. 
 " Well, Anna," said he, ** do you not 
 admire these pretty things, that you say 
 so little r 
 
 *' O yes 1 they are all that I could have 
 wished for ; but I do not like to receive 
 so many expensive presents, and from the 
 same person — Mrs Arlington does too 
 much to oblige me." 
 
 " Is Mrs. Arlington then the only per- 
 son living, Anna, who wishes to give
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 277 
 
 you pleasure^ that you fancy every present 
 and every attention to your wants must 
 come from her P" 
 
 ' The tone of gentle reproach in which 
 this was uttered, corrected by the smile of 
 placid affection, instantly explained the 
 truth to the now delighted Mrs. Derville; 
 her countenance lighted up with the live- 
 liest joy, and with eyes sparkling through 
 tears she. exclaimed, *' Oh ! I understand 
 it all now ! and the only drawback to my 
 pleasure is, that you should have remem- 
 bered those moments of weakness in me 
 which I had tried to make you forget." 
 
 " I can never forget any thing you 
 do or say, Anna. The record of affec- 
 tion is written on brass ; and if they were 
 moments of weakness they were very 
 excusable ones, and oh ! how amply have 
 they been atoned for ! " 
 
 This was a pleasure of the heart w^hich 
 the rich Mrs. Arlington might have 
 envied her poorer friend ; and never did
 
 278 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 she superintend the arrangement of any of 
 her splendid furniture with half the delight 
 which Mrs. Derville experienced while 
 arranging those proofs of a /msdcaid's 
 love. But I must own, that when the sofa 
 was removed, whose merits, once forgot- 
 ten and despised, her husband had so feel- 
 ingly related and recalled, Mrs. Derville, 
 overcome by a variety of recollections, 
 burst into tears. 
 
 It was removed into Derville's study ; 
 and his wife assured him that she really 
 believed she should still find it a more 
 comfortable couch than her new one, 
 ^* Very likely," he replied; " as a homely 
 old friend, who has been endeared to us 
 by the tender recollections of childhood,, 
 is often more welcome to us than the more 
 brilliant friend of later years." 
 
 Mrs. Arlington had now been abroad 
 a year and six months, and Lionel had 
 returned to college for the second time ; 
 Eustace was old enough to take the living
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 279 
 
 held for him ; and Jane and he were on 
 the point of marriage, when Mrs. Derville 
 received a letter from her absent friend, 
 dated * London !' 
 
 The date alone excited universal joy 
 in the family ; but when the letter was 
 read, it was impossible to make Mary Ann 
 keep her transport in any bounds at first ; 
 for it announced that Mrs. Arlington 
 was coming to Lovelands ! was coming, 
 if it was convenient to them, to stay a 
 month ! and Mary Ann bounded out of 
 the room to tell the conscious Sally, and 
 even the unconscious Nelly, that Mrs. 
 Arlington was coming ! and coming to 
 stay a month ! 
 
 But when the first feelings subsided, 
 it was not all joy to Mrs. Derville. She 
 had a new baby, and was a nurse; and she 
 was afraid that her increased avocations 
 would make it impossible for her to pro- 
 yide for Mrs. Arlington's accommoda-
 
 280 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 tion, as well as she ought ; and she began 
 again to wish she had had this con- 
 venience and the other. But she soon 
 laughed at this remnant of her former 
 weakness ; and remembering what sort of 
 woman her guest was, she exclaimed 
 aloud, though alone, " What folly ! 
 \yhen I know Mrs. Arlington, and know 
 that all she requires, or can value, will be 
 cordial welcomes from hearts that love 
 her!" 
 
 The day before she intended to come, 
 Mrs. Arlington wrote to say that she 
 would arrive the next evening, and all 
 was happy preparation and expectation at 
 Lovelands. 
 
 ^' It is very strange, but very true," 
 said Derville to his wife and children, 
 soon after the letter came, '* that though 
 you have all talked of Mrs. Arlington, 
 and of her beauty, with unwearied elo- 
 quence and delight, you have never
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 281 
 
 described her person and face to me. 
 — In what style are they ? For there are 
 many styles in beauty, you know." 
 
 " I think," replied Mrs.Derville, ** her 
 face is quite Grecian ; her head is beau- 
 tifully formed, her profile straight, and 
 she always wears her very long black hair, 
 simply dressed, a V antique. She is very 
 tall, and has the finest throat and shoul- 
 ders, the finest bust I ever saw : but her 
 face is thin, and she does not look happy, 
 and her cheek is pale : but were she at 
 all fatter, or had she more colour, she 
 would not be near as attractive or as 
 interesting to me as she is now." 
 
 '^No.'^" said Derville, looking at his 
 wife affectionately. *' I have always con- 
 sidered a fine bloom, and a look of health, 
 as great improvers of female beauty." 
 
 ** Oh, but Mrs. Arlington does not look 
 sickly, father," cried Jane. *' She has 
 no colour to be sure^ yet she is not pale ;
 
 282 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 « 
 
 and though she is thin, somehow — she 
 is not thin, father ; and her eyes are so 
 dark and beautiful !" 
 
 *'Dark!" said her mother, "dark! 
 They are gray, a bhie gray in a strong 
 hght ; and it is the full long black eye- 
 lash that makes them seem dark." 
 
 " Miserable man that I am !" cried 
 Derville in a most pathetic tone, *' for 
 it is very clear to me that this enchant- 
 ress, Mrs. Arlington, has bewildered the 
 senses of my poor wife and daughter, 
 and thrown a spell over their power of 
 vision. One says her eyes are dark, the 
 other that they are light : then Jane talks 
 of paleness, that is not pale — and thin- 
 ness, that is not thin ! " 
 
 ** O papa ! I know the right word," 
 cried Mary Ann ; " Mrs. Arlington is 
 slender, but not lean." 
 
 " Well said, Mary Ann, and what 
 height is she .^ "
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 283 
 
 " O papa ! she is very tall — yet, no, 
 not so very tall — not too tall, papa." 
 
 " That is not so well said ; for here is 
 tallness, that is not tall ; and the result 
 of your fine descriptions, ladies, is^ that 
 to be able to decide what Mrs. Arlington 
 is, I must see her ; and I am happy to 
 think she comes to-morrow." 
 
 Oh ! with what pleased yet anxious 
 alacrity Mrs. Derville and Jane, with 
 Mary iVnn assisting, prepared and adorn- 
 ed Mrs. Derville's room and dressing- 
 room for her reception ! 
 
 But all the preparations for her re- 
 ception throughout the little domains of 
 Lovelands were not quite finished, and 
 Mrs. Derville with her two daughters, not 
 expecting Mrs. Arlington for an hour or 
 two, had walked into the village to bespeak 
 supplies from her neighbours, in case she 
 wanted them, — when the guest arrived, 
 and Mr. Derville had to receive her alone.
 
 284 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 She came without state, in a plain 
 travelUng carriage and post horses, and 
 with only a man and maid. 
 
 Mr. Derville thought it rather awkward 
 to have to introduce himself; but he felt 
 it would be very necessary to say ''I 
 am Mr. Derville," if his wife and daughters 
 had described him to Mrs. Arlington as 
 ill as they had described her to him; for 
 when he beheld afattish, blooming, young 
 and happy-looking woman, smiling as 
 she drove up to the door^ he could scarce- 
 ly believe that he beheld the " pale," 
 " slender," and " unhappy-looking" Mrs. 
 Arlington ; and as he gave her his hand 
 to assist her to alight, after she said ** I 
 conclude I see Mr. Derville," a meaning 
 smile played round his mouth, while he 
 replied, 
 
 " Yes, madam ; but I am not sure 
 that you are Mrs. Arlington; all I can 
 say is that I hope you are." 
 
 Mrs. Arlington blushed, and said, " I
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 285 
 
 suppose you did not expect to see such 
 a fat, ruddy woman as I now am ; but you 
 will rejoice to hear that what I have lost 
 in delicacy, I have gained in happiness." 
 Derville'^s kind reply produced another 
 from his guest; and before the ladies re- 
 turned Mrs. Arlington almost fancied 
 she had known her host for years. At 
 length Mrs. Derville, walking or rather 
 running along, appeared in sight ; for 
 she had seen the carriage wheels, and 
 knew her guest was arrived. 
 
 Derville ran out to meet her, while the 
 two girls bounded past him into the 
 house. " Poor Mrs. Arlington !" said he, 
 *^ you will not know her ! " 
 
 *' What!" said Mrs. Derville, turning 
 pale, '' is she ill .P" 
 
 *' No ; but she has lost all power to 
 charm and interest you. She has gained, 
 poor woman, so much Dloom and ctriboji- 
 point, and looks so happy, and so bril- 
 liantly beautiful!" Mrs. Derville had no
 
 286 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 time to reply; for Mrs. Arlington came 
 out to meet her, with IMary Ann hanging 
 on one arm and Jane on the other, and 
 looking like her former self : for emotion 
 on seeing Mrs. Derville, from the re- 
 membrance of former times, made her 
 cheek pale, and filled her eye with tear?. 
 
 Derville staid to w^itness the first 
 meeting; then beckoning Jane and Mary 
 Anne to follow^ them, he left the ladies 
 alone. 
 
 The one had much to tell, and the 
 other much to inquire ; nay, both had in- 
 quiries to make; and Mrs. Arlington had 
 delicacy of tact enough to know exactly 
 the demands which the self-love of others 
 has on our listening powers; and she 
 could enter with kind readiness into 
 the mother's feeling, when Mrs. Der- 
 ville rose, and said — ''I must show 
 you my baby." Mrs. Derville had a 
 great mind to ask what she thought of 
 her husband .^— but her courage failed
 
 ALL IS :not gold that glitters. 287 
 
 her. However^ as if she had the power 
 of divining her friend's wishes, and true 
 benevolence has a sort of divining power, 
 Mrs. ArHngton said, unasked, *' I am 
 glad you were not here when I arrived, 
 as it gave me an opportunity of becoming 
 acquainted at once with your husband. — 
 Admirable being ! — His person, face and 
 manner are exactly what I could have 
 wished those of such a man to be. — Yes, 
 — the casket is, indeed, worthy of the 
 gem which it holds." 
 
 " I knew you would think so," fal- 
 tered out the delighted wife; and her 
 joy v/as not chilled on hearing that 
 the baby was the pride of babies, and 
 very like its father. 
 
 After prayers, and before they sepa- 
 rated for the night, Mrs. Arlington said, 
 with a little blushing hesitation, " I 
 ought to have confessed before I prayed, 
 only that I am not going to confess any 
 thing that I am ashamed of. — You — you
 
 288 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR 
 
 remember I invited myself to stay here a 
 whole month." 
 
 " Yes, and we hope you mean to keep 
 your word." 
 
 " I do, for much depends on it. I am 
 going to be married, and I will be mar- 
 ried by no one but you, Mr. Derville; and 
 in this abode of wedded happiness." 
 
 ** We have had our suspicions on this 
 subject," replied Derville; while Mrs. 
 Derville, kissing Mrs. Arlington affec- 
 tionately as she spoke, said fervently, 
 ^* May you be as happy as 1 am !" 
 
 Mrs. Arlington then informed her anx- 
 ious auditors, that Sir Henry Arlington 
 had renewed his addresses, now made more 
 valuable to lier from years of tried con- 
 stancy, and the consciousness she had how 
 much her parents had wished the union, 
 and that with her whole heart she had con- 
 sented to be his — *' and he will reach the 
 neighbouring watering-place to-night," 
 she added, *' which is, I understand, near
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 289 
 
 enough to make it a very easy drive for 
 him hither and back again." And this 
 important communication being made, 
 the happy party separated for the night. 
 
 The next morning Mary Anne, who 
 had gone to bed before this disclosure, 
 was informed that Mrs. Arhngton was 
 going to be married to her relation Sir 
 Henry Arlington, and she was exces- 
 sively anxious to know what sort of a 
 looking man he was. Her mother and 
 sister had the same curiosity; and after 
 they had hinted at their wish, Mrs. Ar- 
 lington told them he was not handsome 
 certainly, but had the manner and look of 
 a gentleman; " with, as I tell him," said 
 she " the inquiring and penetrating look 
 of a diplomat; — a look I have observed 
 in other diplomats, — ^but in him, as I 
 think at least, it is only intelligent, and 
 has no mixture of cunning." 
 
 " Not handsome !" — cried Mary Anne, 
 hanging fondly about Mrs. Arlington, 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 
 
 OR, 
 
 and speaking in a mournful tone, *' not 
 handsome !" 
 
 " No, — and I am not sure that?/ on will 
 not think him old and ygli/'' Mary 
 Anne did not reply, but turned away 
 in silence, and soon after she was heard 
 sobbing violently. 
 
 '' What is the matter, Mary Anne?" 
 cried Mrs. Derville^ — and it was a minute 
 or two before she could sob out, " I 
 can't bear to think that Mrs. Arlington 
 should marry an old and ugly man !" But 
 at length the reasonings of Mrs. Arling- 
 ton and of her mother, and their com- 
 mon-place assurances, that wisdom and 
 worth, and virtue and talents, were far 
 better things in a man than personal 
 charms, quieted Mary Anne's distress. 
 
 '* Besides,! love him, — nay I am in love 
 with him," said Mrs. Arlington smiling. 
 
 " Still I wonder you should fall in love 
 with a man that's old and ugly," said 
 Mary Anne; '* and I do wonder to hear
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 291 
 
 mainiiia say, beauty is of no value in a 
 man, when I am sure she is quite proud 
 of pap as beauty." 
 
 '' But, Mary Anne, I am far more 
 proud of your father's virtues," replied 
 Mrs. Derville; " and as I see you are not 
 quite in a right temper of mind^ we will 
 drop this subject for the present.' 
 
 The next morning Derville walked 
 over to the watering-place, to call on Sir 
 Henry Arhngton, hoping to prevail on 
 him to return with him to dinner; and 
 Sir Henry drove Derville, and a friend of 
 liis own who was with him, to Lovelands 
 in his curricle, just time enough to dress 
 before the last bell rung. 
 
 But when Mary Anne heard Sir 
 Henry was come, it was impossible for 
 Sally^ or Jane, to persuade her to go 
 down, so great was her dread of seeing 
 the ugly lover of her dear, beautiful Mrs. 
 Arlington, and so sure was she that she 
 should hate the sight of him. At length, 
 o2
 
 *292 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 however, Jane insisted on leading her into 
 the parlour. 
 
 As there were two strangers, Mary 
 Anne did not know which was the dreaded 
 Sir Henry. But she did not venture to 
 look ateither,and in an awkward, sheepish 
 manner, wholly unusual to lier, she seated 
 herself on the corner of a chair, and be- 
 gan playing with her fingers. 
 
 Sir Henry now, by accident, dropped 
 his glove, and Mrs. Dcrville desired 
 Mary Anne to pick it up. She did so 
 in such confusion, that she dropped it 
 again; and as Sir Henry also stooped 
 for it, their heads knocked against each 
 other. 
 
 Mary Anne felt no pain whatever from 
 the blow ; but even if she had, she must 
 have been pleased with the sweet and kind 
 tone in which the stranger hoped he had 
 not hurt her; seating himself, and gently 
 dragging her to him as he spoke. The 
 voice and action encouraged her so much.
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS, 293 
 
 that she looked up and assured him that 
 she was not hurt at all. The stranger 
 
 o 
 
 as she did so regarded her with a smile of 
 pleasure and approbation, which made the 
 conscious Mary Anne cast her eyes on 
 the ground; but again she turned to look 
 at those bright eyes and that fine coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 '' I think I can guess your name/' 
 whispered Sir Henry. 
 
 *' Oh! no, that I am sure you cannot." 
 *' Oh ! yes, you are Mary Anne." 
 " Yes, to be sure you knew I was not 
 Jane, because she is a woman, and so 
 you thought I must be Mary Anne ; but 
 I can't guess who you are; all that I 
 know is, that you are not Sir Henry Ar- 
 lington." 
 
 " And how do you know that.^" 
 '' Oh! because, because I do know, 
 but I shall not tell." 
 
 " Well, if I am not he, who is .^" 
 
 " Oh ! that gentleman at the window.
 
 294 MRS. ARLINGTON; OR, 
 
 to be sure, talkingto papa !'* Then look- 
 ing at Sir Henry earnestly, she added, 
 *' Oh! no^ I am sureyow cannot be Sir 
 Henry Arlington." 
 
 " What can she mean.^" asked Sir 
 Henry of the pleased Mrs. Arlington. 
 
 '^ Come hither, Mary Anne^ and tell me 
 in my ear^ why you are so sure that can- 
 not be Sir Henry .^" 
 
 *^ Because," speaking in her ear, " be- 
 cause you told me, I might think him 
 old and ugly looking, and that gentleman 
 is quite handsome, and looks so good and 
 so good-natured!" 
 
 " And it is, perhaps, because he looks 
 so good and so good-natured, that you 
 think him handsome; for I assure you 
 that is Sir Henry Arlington." 
 
 ** O dear ! I am so glad !" cried the 
 affectionate child, returning to Sir Henry. 
 
 " Glad of what, Mary Ann .?" 
 
 *' That you are really Sir Henry." 
 
 And not long after, on Sir Henry's asking
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLIITERS. 295 
 
 how Nelly did^ Mary Ann told him there 
 was time enough to go and see Nelly and 
 her puppies and the rabbits before dinner; 
 and as Sir Henry was kind enough to 
 indulge her wish, dinner was actually on 
 the table before Sir Henry returned, lead- 
 ing the delighted Mary Ann by the hand. 
 
 Sir Henry made himself equally agree- 
 able to the mother as to the younger 
 daughter ; for he nursed the baby as well 
 as she did, and declared that though he 
 loved all babies, he thought hers was 
 the loveliest that he had ever seen. It 
 was impossible after this, that Sir Henry 
 could have a fault in Mrs. Derville's eyes; 
 and Derville soon learnt to value him on 
 surer ground, on his rational piety, his 
 highly cultivated mind, his talents, his 
 temper, and his active virtues. 
 
 One day Mrs. Arlington took Mrs. 
 Derville aside, and said, " A living in my 
 gift, of at least a thousand per annum^ is 
 now vacant; and I will present your hus-
 
 296 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 band to it, or your son, whichever you 
 please." 
 
 *' My son by all means/' she replied, 
 " I do not hesitate one moment ; for in- 
 deed I have profited by your kind admo- 
 nitions, and have now no wish ungratified." 
 
 '^ Not for yourself, perhaps, but you 
 may have for your children ; therefore Mr. 
 Derville shall hold it for Lionel till he is 
 old enough to take it; and if you choose to 
 lay by the income of it, it will enable you 
 to add considerably to your fortune at the 
 end of three years. And Lionel may be his 
 father's curate." This point being settled, 
 Mrs. Arlington frankly asked Mrs. Der- 
 ville, "Whether she and her husband were 
 pained or pleased with her presumption, 
 in having dared to show her sense of the 
 service Mrs. Derville had done her, by a 
 pecuniary donation to her child." And 
 Mrs. Derville as frankly owned that they 
 had received it as it was meant, and the 
 other gifts too : but that the idea that the
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS > 2^7 
 
 chairs^ &c. came from her, had been pain- 
 ful to her. 
 
 ^'^ I will tell you why I asked," said Mrs. 
 Arlington ; "I wish to give Jane money 
 to buy clothes and furniture^ but I was 
 afraid that you might think it was taking 
 a liberty. But you see I must do something 
 for her, as I have given Mary Ann money, 
 and Lionel a Hving. And really during 
 my residence abroad I have not spent 
 half my income, and have more money, 
 tlxerefore, just now than I know what to 
 do with. Do then assist me in taking 
 a little off my liands." 
 
 The scruples of the Dervilles were 
 soon silenced; and the kindness of Mrs. 
 Arlington enabled the young couple, when 
 they married, to purchase all the comforts, 
 even comforts bordering on luxuries, which 
 wealth only can procure. But previously 
 to her own marriage, Jane had the honour 
 and happiness of being bride maid, with 
 the delighted Mary Ann, to their beloved 
 o5
 
 298 MRS. ARLINGTON ; OR, 
 
 Mrs. Arlington, who, at the simple church 
 of Lovelands, received from the hand of 
 the man she most venerated^ that of the 
 man she most loved. 
 
 Our heroine's second marriage took 
 place under far happier auspices than had 
 attended her first. No consciousness 
 that her choice had clouded over a pa- 
 rent's brow with forebodings of wedded 
 misery, now occurred to damp her bridal 
 hopes ; but on the contrary, she knew, 
 that could her parents witness wh^t was 
 then passing on earth, their warmest 
 blessings would have attended an union, 
 likely, they would have believed, to fulfil 
 their fondest hopes. 
 
 That union still remains blissful and 
 unbroken, and cemented still more by 
 the birth of two children. Lady Ar- 
 lington has also the happiness of wit- 
 nessing that of Emily, her husband's in- 
 nocent victim, who is well and happily 
 married to the lover mentioned some
 
 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 299 
 
 pages back. But, as there is always some 
 drawback on human feUcity, there are 
 times when Lady ArHngton regrets with 
 vain but heartfeh bitterness, that she re- 
 jected in early youth the substance for the 
 shadow; and, by refusing that love which 
 now she valued as her dearest earthly 
 treasure, had not only deprived an ido- 
 lizing parent of the greatest joy he could 
 have known, that of witnessing the hap- 
 piness of an only child ; but had doomed 
 him to the bitter agony of witnessing 
 that child's misery. And while these 
 thoughts are uppermost in her mind, her 
 sense of happiness is for a time anni- 
 hilated. But it soon revives to all its force 
 again ; and whenever the mistress of the 
 Lawn-house now meets the once envied 
 Mrs. Derville, she has a pride in ex- 
 claiming, " And / too am a wife to be 
 
 ENVIED."
 
 [In compliance with the desire of its Author, 
 I give the following Narrative,'} 
 
 PROPOSALS or MARRIAGE 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 We know what we are; but know 
 not what we shall be," said the poor 
 Ophelia ; and she could not have made 
 a truer observation, as my experience tells 
 me, had she been in her right senses,— for 
 it never came into my head to suspect 
 that I should turn author. And still I 
 think it an odd fancy in me ; especially 
 as my story is a true one, and I am the 
 real hero of it. However, narrate it I 
 will, as my ambition now is to be a
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 301 
 
 writer ; and if that ambition should go 
 on to increase, I shall probably be a 
 pubHshed writer too ; for I think, by 
 means of some scribbling man or woman 
 of my acquaintance, I shall be able, if 
 I wish it, to get into print. 
 
 r shall be very careful to avoid in my 
 own tale whatever has distressed me in the 
 stories of others. Therefore, though I 
 would on no account tell the reader my 
 own real name, that of my family, or of 
 any one person alluded to, I will not 
 
 talk of Mr. D or Lady C , but 
 
 I will give each person as pretty a sound- 
 ing name as I can think of: and some- 
 times perhaps it will be appropriate to the 
 character. 
 
 To begin then with myself. 
 
 At the time I am writing this, I am 
 a healthy man of sixty-four ; and am well 
 known in the fashionable world as the 
 Honourable Tylney Tr^sgothic, a very 
 rich old bachelor, the younger son of
 
 302 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 the Earl of Oldworth : consequently I 
 need not tell you that I have long been 
 the object of matrimonial speculations to 
 virgins of ton, who have been twenty 
 years at least expecting the right man 
 to appear ; — and to comely widows of a 
 certain age, who have acquired the habit 
 of living beyond their income. ^Vhether 
 therefore I am still a bachelor, or whether 
 I am going to marry, will be seen during 
 the progress of these memoirs. 
 
 But I fear that when I said above I 
 would not do what has always annoyed 
 me in the stories of other' people, I ex- 
 ceeded the strict truth ; for I am disap- 
 pointed myself when a particular descrip- 
 tion is not given of the face, person, and 
 dress of the hero and heroine ; but I 
 cannot summon up courage to describe 
 my own. All I can do, however, I will. 
 I will say that I am tall, florid, young- 
 looking for my age, as I am told, and 
 not by my gl^ss alone ; that my usual
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 303 
 
 costume is a bottle-green coat ; that 
 through all the variations of fashion I 
 have worn white silk stockings and light 
 kerseymere breeches, with knee and shoe- 
 buckles ; and that my hair, which has 
 only lately been cropped close to my head, 
 (till now that it is white with age,) has 
 always been lightly powdered. I have 
 never worn a wig, except when I was a 
 child ; — ^andlam hanging up at Oldworth 
 Castle, in a complete suit of light blue 
 velvet, a wig, a sword, and a hat under 
 my arm, in all the consequence of ten years 
 old. Let me add, that, such as I have 
 described myself, I am usually to be seen 
 every night of a favourite opera, at the 
 corner of the third row in the pit, on the 
 side of la prima donna ; — that, habited 
 in a loose great coat, I may also be seen 
 when a favourite actor or actress plays, in 
 the third row of the pit at Drury-lane 
 or Covent Garden ; — and I will venture 
 to say, that there is scarcely a fashionable
 
 304 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 assembly in London to which I am not 
 invited, and where I am not commonly 
 to be met for an hour or two. 
 
 Reader, if thou art a young man or 
 woman of fashion^ thou must have met 
 me very often ; and when thou hast read 
 this tale, I suspect that thou wouldst 
 not be sorry to be better acquainted with 
 me, shouldst thou be in the situation of 
 which it treats. But I beg thy pardon, 
 for I feel that I am talking a great deal 
 to little purpose, and already deserving 
 the reproach of garrulous old age.... Now 
 then to get on with my story. 
 
 I have already said that I am a fre- 
 quenter of fashionable assemblies, and 
 they are often enlivened by fine music, 
 from professors and public singers, or 
 by pleasing, performances, chiefly vocal, 
 from amateurs. But these latter per- 
 formers rarely exhibit except in small 
 select parties, — and of such parties I am 
 very fond.
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 30o 
 
 In these meetings, which are favour- 
 able to the cultivation not only of ac- 
 quaintances but of intimacy, a friend pre- 
 sented me to Lady Mary Lovely, eldest 
 daughter of the earl and countess of 
 Vaurien^ who had charmed me by her 
 beauty, her manner, and her voice; and I 
 found her conversation equal to them. 
 She had also another charm for me — her 
 name was Mary, 
 
 Lady Mary was not slow to discover 
 the favourable impression which she had 
 made ; and she tried to increase it by the 
 kindest smiles and most flattering atten- 
 tion. But, as I am really no coxcomb, 
 I was not weak enough to believe that 
 this fine young woman had any intention 
 of being Lady Mary Tresgothic. But 
 the world thought otherwise ; and Lord 
 Lawless, — a man of my own age, but whose 
 hair was of a fine purplish brown, with 
 whiskers of the same colour ; and with
 
 306 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 cheeks coideur de 7'ose, but whose knees 
 tottered under him, and whose legs were 
 like spindles, — was seen to turn as pale 
 as he could turn, whenever I approached 
 Lady Mary. For Lord Lawless was her 
 declared lover, and highly approved of 
 by Lord and Lady Vaurien, who had 
 twelve children, expensive habits, an 
 embarrassed fortune, and no principle. 
 But with this expected sacrifice of herself 
 to the wants of her selfish parents I was 
 not acquainted during the first weeks of 
 my intimacy with Lady Mary, though I 
 soon discovered that she was unhappy ; 
 and several times I had seen her siart, 
 change colour, cast an inquiring anxious 
 glance round the room, or through the 
 folding doors that led from one room to the 
 other, and then fall into complete abstrac- 
 tion seemingly from all external objects. 
 At these times I used to say to myself, 
 " Poor girl, I fear she is in love !" And I
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 307 
 
 ceased to wonder, as I had often done 
 before, at Lady Mary's being unmarried 
 at the age of three-and-twenty. 
 
 Who the object of her affections was 
 I had yet to learn ; — but I was soon ena- 
 bled to discover. 
 
 One evening Lady Mary was in vain 
 solicited, by the lady of the house and 
 myself, and commanded by her mo- 
 ther, to sing a little ballad in which she 
 particularly excelled. But she resolutely 
 refused to comply, urging her utter in- 
 ability. Our hostess and I, seeing her 
 unusually pale and agitated, desisted 
 from our suit ; but Lady Vaurien said to 
 her, in a low voice, " Foolish obstinate 
 girl ! I know why you cannot sing it.' 
 
 ** Then I wonder, madam, you should 
 ask me." 
 
 And the angry mother turned away, 
 giving her the look of a fiend ; while I, 
 full of pity, wonder, just indignation, and
 
 308 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 affectionate curiosity, sat down by Lady 
 Mary. 
 
 '* O mother — yet no mother!" I al- 
 most audibly murmured ; and I looked 
 at my trembling neighbour with such 
 interest expressed on my countenance, 
 that the poor thing was soothed, though 
 affected^ and said to me in a low voice, 
 
 " You know not how precious to me 
 the consciousness of your friendship is ; 
 for indeed, dear sir^ I want a friend." 
 
 At this moment the Honourable Mr. 
 Merital passed us ; a very fine young 
 man, who had just taken orders. As he 
 left the room, he looked back, and his 
 eyes met those of Lady Mary . The glance 
 was momentary ; but his expression could 
 not be mistaken — it was that of love ; 
 and when I turned round to see w^hat ef- 
 fect it had on Lady Mary, I found her 
 countenance so cleared up ! and though 
 she looked thoughtful, she seemed no
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 309 
 
 longer painfully so* In a few minutes 
 after, she said to me, *' I wish you would 
 have the goodness to go and see whether 
 Arthur Merital be gone." 
 
 I did so ; and returning told her he 
 was then going down stairs. Immediate- 
 ly, seeing her mother coming up to her 
 again, she said to me with a very meaning 
 smile, " I can sing now." And as Lady 
 Vaurien .did come to persecute her into 
 compliance, it was well for her that she 
 was able to obey her. She then sat down 
 to the instrument, and sung the follow- 
 ing song, though not with a very steady 
 voice. 
 
 I give the vv^ords, because they were 
 evidently descriptive of her own feelings ; 
 and it was cruel in her mother to request 
 her to sing them when she knew Merital 
 was within hearing.
 
 310 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 To the Tune of^^ Vous me quittez." 
 
 " Yes, we must part, since fate has so decreed 
 it, 
 And far I'll rove, my fetter'd heart to free ; 
 For love should die when hope no more can 
 feed it, — 
 And I as yet too fondly think on thee. 
 
 Nor think that I'm in search of pleasure roving! 
 
 By thee unshared all joys are vain to me ; 
 I go in hopes, the power of absence proving, 
 
 I, with less })ain, may learn to think on thee. 
 
 Judge by thyself, whene'er the past recalling, 
 Thy pensive memory fondly turns to me ; 
 
 .Judge by thy tears, in spite of manhood falling, 
 What I endure whene'er I think on thee. 
 
 But Heaven forbid that thou, like me, shouldst 
 languish ! 
 
 So well I love, from selfish views so free ; 
 I wish thee, Henry, ne'er to know such anguish, 
 
 As tears mv heart whene'er I think on thee."
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 311 
 
 Well, I had learnt three things that 
 evening. The first was, to think ill of 
 Lady Vaurien ; — the second, that Lady 
 Mary was not only in love, but was be- 
 loved; — the third, that Arthur Merital 
 was the lover ; and moreover, I suspected 
 the union had been forbidden by parental 
 authority. 
 
 I also recollected with no small plea- 
 sure that Lady IVIary had told me she 
 valued my friendship, and that she wanted 
 a friend. Still, though I had reason to 
 think she wished to confide in me, I did 
 not feel myself authorized to solicit her 
 confidence sooner than she chose to offer 
 it ; and week succeeded to week, month 
 to month ; and I met Lady Mary, and I 
 saw her grow thinner and thinner, paler 
 and paler, and evidently more and more 
 depressed, — yet still she was silent, and 
 so was I, on the subject of her apparent 
 uneasiness. 
 
 Her approaching marriage with Lord
 
 312 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 Lawless was now the gfenerul theme of 
 conversation ; and I heard that he had 
 bought her of her mercenary parents, by 
 promising to provide for thi'ee of the sons, 
 and to take her without any dower then, 
 or in future. 
 
 How great was my indignation at this 
 intelligence ! 
 
 I could understand the impropriety, 
 not to call it madness, of a union between 
 two noble beggars, like Merital and Lady 
 Mary ; but I thought it hardship enough 
 for two such admirable young persons to 
 be doomed to pine in hopeless love ; and 
 to force Lady Mary to marry one man 
 while her heart was another's, appeared 
 to me the climax of parental cruelty ; — 
 that man too, old, dissolute, and hollow- 
 hearted ; — a man who could not, I was 
 sure, fulfil the promises by which he ob- 
 tained her, as he was really not rich, and 
 had but little interest. 
 
 While I was feeling this anxiety con-
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 313 
 
 cerning Lady Mary, life, which usually 
 wanted interest with me, acquired a very 
 strong one ; and I was perpetually form- 
 ing plans, and abandoning them again, to 
 serve these parted lovers, as I now found 
 they had long been ; but they had been 
 parted in vain, for one interchange of a 
 look of still-existing tenderness had 
 hitherto kept the flame alive in both, and 
 had proved that there is no cure for love, 
 but absolute separation and complete years 
 of absence. 
 
 " But what can be the cause," I was 
 ever saying to myself, " of the change in 
 Lady Mary ? Surely she will never go to 
 the altar willingly, and they will not 
 presume to drag her thither ?'' when, 
 alas ! one evening she came to a party, 
 leaning on the arm of Lord Lawless, who 
 looked all dehght, and seemed to say, 
 ' Am I not at last a happy man ?' 
 
 Lady Mary, however, looked any 
 thing but happy ; and I saw that she v/as 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 314 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 vainly desirous of speaking to me apart. 
 I therefore contrived to get near her, and 
 to say in her ear, — "Can what I hear be 
 true ? Are you really going to sacrifice 
 yourself to that man ? " 
 
 "I fear I must," she replied in the 
 accent of a broken-hearted woman ; " and 
 sacrifice myself for the good of my family. 
 Besides, why should I not now ? Arthur 
 Merital is going to be married — you un- 
 derstand me." 
 
 '' I do. Still, pause ere you resolve." 
 
 Lady Mary sighed, but spoke not 
 then : however, as she walked forward, 
 she said to me, with a look of excessive 
 agony, " O that Lord Lawless were such 
 a man as yourself ! " 
 
 " Would he were, for thy sake, poor 
 thing !" thought I ; supposing that Lady 
 Mary meant she wished he was as well- 
 principled, as in that case he would not 
 have persisted in addresses so odious to 
 the object of them.
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 315 
 
 I scarcely slept that night, so full 
 was I of wishes to serve Lady Mary. But 
 could her lover really be false, and so soon 
 after that look too ? / could not believe 
 it. I knew how constant man's love could 
 be, and I suspected that Lady Mary was 
 imposed upon by those interested in de- 
 ceiving her. 
 
 The next morning, however, though 
 my night had been nearly sleepless, I rose 
 at my usual hour; and was at breakfast 
 at half-past nine, when my valet inform- 
 ed me that a young lady and her maid 
 were below, and wished to speak to me. 
 
 '* "Which .^" said I, " the young lady^ or 
 the maid.?" 
 
 " The young lady." 
 
 '' What ! a woman grown .?" 
 
 " O yes, sir ; quite a fine young lady 
 indeed." 
 
 " This is very strange," thought I, but 
 I desired she might be shown up dh'ectly. 
 p2
 
 316 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 And my heart whispered that it was Lady 
 Mary Lovely. 
 
 Nor was I deceived. It was Lady 
 Mary ; who, throwing herself nearly over- 
 whelmed with flutter on a chair, apolo- 
 gized in imperfect accents for the liberty 
 which she had taken, and the indecomm 
 of which she was guilty. 
 
 ''I am conscious," replied I, ^* of 
 nothing but the happiness which you 
 have conferred, and the hopes of your 
 entire confidence, which your visit holds 
 out to me, as you must be sure. Lady 
 Mary, that I will do any thing in my 
 power to serve you." 
 
 '' Will you— will you indeed.^" said 
 the agitated girl. 
 
 '' I will — that is, unless it is some- 
 thing very unreasonable; and that I know 
 it cannot be." 
 
 '' Do not be too sure of that." 
 
 '' No ! Well, slight difficidties shall
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 317 
 
 not discourage me ; — and now tell me 
 the whole story of your love and your 
 misery." 
 
 "My story," she repHed, '^ is soon 
 told : — Arthur Merital and I have been 
 attached to each other from early youth, 
 and we were allowed to associate together, 
 till the danger which might have been 
 foreseen had been incurred to the utmost; 
 — for we had learnt to love, and then 
 found we must as certainly despair. 
 And we were forbidden even to speak to 
 each other. Nor was the distant prospect 
 which Merital had of a family living, al- 
 lowed to hold out to us any chance of 
 future happiness. I will not dwell on 
 what I felt at seeing all the prospects of 
 my youth thus destroyed ; and though 
 solicited to accept the addresses of other 
 young men, I rejected them almost with 
 disgust, as I had a sadly soothing conso- 
 lation in my determined constancy to my 
 first love ; especially as, whenever we met,
 
 318 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 the eyes of Merital evinced a constancy 
 equal to my own. This consciousness, 
 too, prevented me from being unhappy. 
 But now...." Here Lady Mary paused, 
 too much affected to proceed for a few 
 moments ; then recovering herself, she 
 went on :— " But now the case is widely 
 different, and I am miserable : he is faith- 
 less, and / desperate. My parents are in 
 distressed circumstances. Lord Lawless is 
 liberal in his offers, my filial piety is 
 called upon, and my love for my dear 
 brothers.... and above all, perhaps I am 
 urged by pique and the wounded feelings 
 of my sex, to become a wife, before 
 Merital becomes a husband." Here she 
 gave way to a passionate flood of tears ; 
 and though I disapproved her last-men- 
 tioned motive of action, I deeply sym- 
 pathized in her very natural distress. 
 
 " Compose youself, my dear child," 
 said I very tenderly. 
 
 *' Would I were your child ! " she ex-
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 319 
 
 claimed, " then I might have a chance of 
 being happy." 
 
 " Perhaps you still may. But you 
 seemed to imply that you had a favour to 
 ask of me." 
 
 ^' I have ; but such a favour that I 
 really dare not utter it.' 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " Yes ; one that nothing but the 
 peculiar" circumstances in which I am 
 placed, and my horror of Lord Lawless, 
 could have induced me to think of. It 
 is so strange a thing to ask — so very 
 strange." 
 
 *^ Keep me no longer in suspense, 
 name the desire. What do you wish me 
 
 to do r 
 
 " Marry me yourself." 
 
 Here she hid her face, and I was 
 glad she did, for I could not help ex- 
 claiming, — ''^Strange indeed!" — and I 
 should not have liked to see the poor 
 thing's confusion.
 
 320 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 But, as soon as I had recovered my 
 surprise and consternation, I must own 
 that I cast a look into the pier glass op- 
 posite, and did not wonder I was preferred 
 to Lord Lawless ; but this was but a mo- 
 mentary weakness, and vanity was soon 
 swallowed up in better feelings. I told 
 Lady Mary that I was flattered by her 
 preference, and the more so, because 
 she knew that I had never tried to obtain 
 it — had never had the vanity to believe 
 that her attentions to me could be prompt- 
 ed by any other feelings than those of 
 friendship. 
 
 I also added, that my affections had 
 long been buried in the grave ; and that 
 I had always resolved never to marry. 
 But that our views usually changed with 
 circumstances, and that like Benedict,— 
 " when I said I would die a bachelor, I 
 did not think I should live to be mar- 
 ried;" — that therefore, if there was no 
 other \vay of saving her from that hateful
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 321 
 
 Lord Lawless, I would offer the same 
 terms as he did to her father, and I should, 
 I doubted not^ obtain her for myself, as 
 she v/as ready to marry me, though she 
 had not yet ever consented to accept 
 Lord Lawless. But that I must beg a 
 little time to consider of her proposal : 
 *' because I must own," said I, '' that in 
 spite of your youth, your beauty, and 
 your various charms, my heart remains 
 a constant and a widowed heart ; and I 
 feel towards you no other sensation than 
 that of a parent towards a child." 
 
 Lady Mary looked pleased, and per- 
 haps was so. Still the sex's vanity in 
 her must have been a little mortified at 
 the excessive sang-froid with which I had 
 received such a proposal from a very fine 
 girl : however, she did not betray morti- 
 fication if she felt it. And now, being 
 fearful of exciting suspicion by her ab- 
 sence, she bade me a hasty " farewell," 
 p 5
 
 322 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 after overwhelming me with excuses and 
 expressions of gratitude; and I promised 
 that in less than two days she should hear 
 from me, or see me. 
 
 I was truly glad to get rid of her ; 
 for my mind was now made up as to the 
 best course for me to pursue, and the 
 first thing I resolved upon was to go to 
 
 's auction-room, in hopes of seeing 
 
 Arthur Merital, who used to be a frequent 
 lounger there; from the hope, as I now 
 suspected, of seeing Lady Mary, whose 
 mother, though she was so poor as to 
 think it necessary to sell her child, had 
 always money to expend on her own self- 
 ish luxuries, and was for ever buying old 
 china, or ??io?elu vases, or things of thr.t sort. 
 " If he be faithless, he will probably 
 not be there/' thought I ; *^ if faithful, he 
 will :" and on entering the room, he was 
 the first object whom I saw. He was 
 examining very attentively a beautiful
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 323 
 
 ivory work-basket, and I ventured to ac- 
 cost him with " That is a beautiful thing, 
 Mr. Merital." 
 
 '' Very." 
 
 *' It is just the thing for a lover to 
 present to his mistress ; and you, per- 
 haps, think so to. And if it be not im- 
 pertinent, I presume you are thinking of 
 presenting it to the young lady to whom 
 the world says you are soon to be married.^" 
 
 This was very presumptuous, I own ; 
 but poor Merital was conscious of feel- 
 ings which made him insensible to my 
 boldness, for he remembered my inti- 
 macy with Lady Mary. 
 
 " I ! I going to be married ! — Can 
 she — can she think, sir ! — The report is 
 wholly false. It is my brother who is 
 going to be married, not I ; though in his 
 absence I escort his lady. I marry ! I 
 marry ! Mr. Tresgothic, I shall never 
 marry now — never — never." 
 
 As he said this, he raised his fine eyes
 
 324 
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE, 
 
 to heaven with such a despairing look ! 
 and I read in them Lady Mary Lovely at 
 full length. 
 
 '* Oh!" thought I/^ thou art a loverafter 
 my own heart ;" and having now gained 
 what I wanted, I left the room. 
 
 I lived only in the next street, so I 
 went home to see if there were any let- 
 ters for me; and I found one, the con- 
 * tents of which had such an effect on me, 
 that I seemed to tread in air, and ordering 
 my carriage round immediately, I desired 
 it to drive me to— no matter to what 
 street or square— but to the Lord Chan- 
 cellor's. I shall not say to what Lord 
 Chancellor's; nor, as mystery always 
 enhances the effect of a story, will I say 
 any thing to let my readers know in what 
 year I am writing. I shall only say that 
 Chancellors sometimes are men who have 
 a pleasure in remembering favours done 
 them when they wanted friends, and are 
 honourably proud of proving bv their
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 325 
 
 actions, that they are not ungrateful. 
 Such a Chancellor was he to whom I was 
 hastening, and I was one of his earliest 
 and best friends. 
 
 It is a fine thing to live in a country 
 where a man who has talents and indus- 
 try may raise himself to the highest 
 honours of the state ; — and my ennobled 
 friend had done so. I knew he was not 
 sitting, ^s term was over, so I hoped to 
 find him at home, and I did . 
 
 *' ," said I as I entered (for in- 
 deed I did venture to call him by his 
 name), '* I am come to ask a favour of 
 you." 
 
 '' I am glad of it. You have pro- 
 mised to do me that kindness for many 
 years, but have never done it yet ; and 
 yet who has such claims on me as you 
 have ? " 
 
 '' Well, well, you will own that I am 
 now come to demand payment of the
 
 326 PROPOSALS OF MARTUAGE. 
 
 debt due, with interest, when I tell you I 
 come to ask you to give me the living 
 of ." 
 
 " That living ! It is not vacant yet ; 
 and though the incumbent is very old, 
 (eighty at least,) he is very healthy." 
 
 *' No ; he is probably dead by this 
 time. Here is a letter from his physi- 
 cian, who has written to me by to-day's 
 post, on business of my own." 
 
 He read the letter, and found that 
 the incumbent was literally in the ago- 
 nies of death : and the moment after, he 
 received an express to tell him he was ac- 
 tually dead. 
 
 '' There," said I, " and remember, I 
 am the first applicant.' 
 
 '' True ; but it is one of the very best 
 livings in my gift, and...." 
 
 *' I am one of the very best friends in 
 your possession." 
 
 " Very true ; but one of the mini-
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 327 
 
 sters, instigated I suspect by a very 
 great personage, has expressed a wish to 
 have...." 
 
 ^' What he^or she shall not have: and I 
 want this living for a person they would 
 approve — for Arthur Merital, whose father 
 you know always votes with government : 
 and I want this living for him, to enable 
 him to marry Lady Mary Lovely, Lord 
 Vaurien's daughter, a devoted slave to 
 ministers : and your other asking friends 
 can only want to give it to some one of 
 their adherents and favourites.' 
 
 " Wliat shall I do .^ I wish, you 
 know, to oblige you." 
 
 " And by obliging me you will not 
 only make two worthy and fond hearts 
 happy^ but you will certainly mortify and 
 disappoint your old and determined ene- 
 my in the House, Lord Lawless ; who 
 has, you know, no mere yon you, and who 
 is suitor to Lady Mary with her selfish 
 parents' approbation.'
 
 328 
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 I thought I was justified in holding 
 out this temptation to his bad feelings, 
 if he had any, that they might come in 
 aid of his good ones. But whether they 
 did or not, I do not pretend to say ; all I 
 know is, that he promised me the living, 
 and that while I staid, I had the satis- 
 faction of seeing him write one or two 
 letters in answer to applications, saying 
 it was already engaged. 
 
 My next visit was to Lord and Lady 
 Vaurien. I found them alone, and in 
 much emotion. Lady Mary had that 
 morning, on her return home, positively 
 declared that nothing should compel her 
 to marry Lord Lawless. 
 
 I began thus—" I understand, my 
 lord, that you and Lady Vaurien wish to 
 marry Lady Mary to Lord Lawless, and 
 that she is utterly averse to the union. 
 Is this true ? Believe me, the question is 
 not one of mere curiosity." 
 
 Lord Vaurien answered me at once
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 329 
 
 that it was true ; while his lady's cunning 
 little eyes, as she fixed them on me, 
 twinkled with indescribable shrewdness. 
 
 " Then know, my lord, I am authorized 
 by Lady Mary to ask your leave to propose 
 to marry her myself- — having her free 
 consent to wed, if I can win her." 
 
 ^' You ! you l" exclaimed both the 
 delighted parents at once. 
 
 " Yes ; and on the same terms as 
 Lord Lawless offered. I will provide for 
 your three boys ; for I have, you know, 
 infinitely more wealth than he has ; and 
 through my connexions, more interest." 
 
 " Oh, to be sure," cried Lady Vaurien. 
 '' Besides, we know if you make a promise 
 you wall keep it ; and that is more than 
 we can be sure of with Lord Lawless. 
 ^Vell, really, Mary has been very sly : — 
 we saw her bent on refusing Lord Law- 
 less, but we did not suspect the cause 
 was attachment to you." 
 
 *' Attachment to me !" echoed I^
 
 330 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 looking at her with scornful indignation: 
 " No ; — you know it was not. But, my 
 lord, you have not assured me of your 
 consent." 
 
 " I assure you not only of my consent, 
 but of my warmest approbation : and 
 ah! what a comfort it is to think that my 
 necessities will not have compelled the 
 sacrifice of my child ! " 
 
 " My lord," I replied very gravely^ 
 " in accepting wy proposals, you sacrifice 
 your child to your necessities. If I were 
 of a proper age to marry Lady Mary, it 
 would still be a sacrifice, for you know 
 she loves another.' 
 
 ** Dear me !" said both the parents, 
 "we thought — we hoped...." 
 
 " No, Lady Lawless," said I, '' you 
 Jcnotv, that you hiew the contrary ; you 
 knew Lady Mary's heart was still Arthur 
 Merital's, and yet you urged her to 
 marry — and marry such a man too !" 
 
 ^' I certainly much prefer you, Mr.
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 331 
 
 Tr^sgothic, and really cannot allow such 
 a marriage to be a hardship." 
 
 '' Then I am sorry for you, madam. 
 I pity any woman who can think a mar- 
 riage of mere interest is any thing better 
 than legal prostitution. But I must beg 
 your patient attention, while I relate to 
 you what it is necessary for you to know^ 
 in order to excuse the liberty which I am 
 going to take." 
 
 They promised me their attention, 
 and ordered the servants to deny them to 
 every one ; — but there is nothing they 
 would not have promised me at that mo- 
 ment ; for I had many thousands 
 a-year — and I was to be their son-in-law. 
 I am now going to appear, what I have 
 some pretensions to be — a heros de ro- 
 man — and you are now going to hear the 
 history of my life. But I did wish to tell 
 it to more respectable auditors than Lord 
 and Lady Vaurien, and more interested 
 too : — for though the husband did appear
 
 332 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 to hear every word, I soon found that 
 the wife's eyes were riveted on a beau- 
 tiful emerald heart that I wore on my 
 watch-chain, which dangled in my hand, 
 and I had no doubt that she was saying 
 to herself, " I wonder whether he will 
 give that to Mary, and whether Mary 
 would give it to me !".... But I am too 
 prolix — Now then to begin. 
 
 *' Perhaps you already know," said I, 
 ** that my grandmother's immense for- 
 tune — a city fortune — was, according to 
 the marriage-settlement, settled on the 
 second son of my father, being intended, 
 no doubt, to purchase another peerage for 
 the family. You also know that by the 
 death of the first and second son I became 
 the second son and heir to the fortune, 
 of which, alas ! I gained possession when 
 it had ceased to have any charms for me, 
 and when it could excite in me at first no 
 feelings but the bitterness of unavailing 
 regret."
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 333 
 
 " Did you not immediately try to 
 procure a peerage ?" asked Lady Vaurien 
 eagerly. 
 
 " No, madam : the only woman whom 
 I could ever wish to decorate with a co- 
 ronet was become the wife of another. 
 For her sake I might have sought distinc- 
 tions : — but with my hope my ambition 
 died also. I had loved, passionately 
 loved. Lady Vaurien, and been beloved 
 in return. But I was then only the third 
 son of Lord Oldworth, and my mistress 
 was rich. Accordingly my suit was re- 
 jected : — but I was sure of my own con- 
 stancy, and equally so of my mistress's, 
 and I resolved to await patiently the 
 chances of life, hoping that something 
 might turn up in our favour. But in less 
 than a twelvemonth after I had been re- 
 fused by her father, she married my ri- 
 val, a man of large fortune. I cannot, 
 dare not dwell on the phrensied agonies 
 which this event occasioned me. Yes ;
 
 334 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 let mc think it was phrensy that prompted 
 me to do what I did. I copied out part 
 of the song of * Thou art gone awa' 
 from me, Mary/ shghtly altering the 
 lines to suit my situation : — they are as 
 follows : — 
 
 Until this hour I never thought 
 
 That aught could alter thee, Mary ! 
 
 Thou'rt still the mistress of my heart. 
 Think what thou wilt of me, Mary ! 
 
 Though thou'st been false, yet while 1 live 
 I'll still wish well to thee, Mary ! - 
 
 I can't forget, but I forgive, 
 The wrong thou hast done to me, Mary 1 
 
 " This was a song she used to sing 
 with great feeling, and she often ex- 
 pressed her wonder at the falsehood 
 which occasioned it. Having finished 
 the extract, I watched for her carriage 
 one day in Bond-street ; and as she got 
 out of it I forced it into her hand without 
 speaking. I then gazed my last on her;
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 335 
 
 for she looked so beautiful, though very 
 pale, that I dared not see her again ; and 
 I instantly went abroad : — but not alone; 
 my kind mother went with me ; and to 
 her soothings, and her watchful tender- 
 ness I owed the recovery of my health 
 and of my mind. It was now that I 
 became possessed of my grandmother's 
 fortune : — but it came too late — and I 
 fear that I, at first, received it unthank- 
 fully. 
 
 '^ I remained abroad some years after 
 my mother left me : but on my father's 
 death I thought it right to return to 
 England to try to console her^ as she had 
 consoled me ; and from her I learnt that 
 my faithless Mary's husband had spent 
 all her fortune and his own ; that she was 
 in reduced circumstances ; and that he 
 was living abroad. She then was poor, 
 while I was rich ! — and call it weakness if 
 you please, but I could not endure the 
 idea, ill as she had used me, that she
 
 336 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 should want aught which money could 
 purchase ; and I grieved to think that I 
 could not befriend her. 
 
 *' My. mother, on my father's death, 
 shut herself up at her country-seat, which 
 was withhi ten miles of Clifton ; I there- 
 fore usually rode thither every morning, 
 by way of change of scene. One morn- 
 ing I followed by chance a shabbily 
 dressed invalid, leaning on her maid, who 
 seemed to walk with difficulty ; when as 
 she reached a pastry-cook's shop, she 
 turned her head, saw me, uttered a sort 
 of exclamation, and fainted awa}'. I 
 caught her in my arms, and carried her 
 into the shop. But judge of my feelings 
 when I found that it was my once-loved 
 Mary ! Her insensibility was short : and 
 when she recovered, I remembered no- 
 thing at that moment but that she was 
 ill, and that she had fainted at sight of 
 me. But such meetings and such feel- 
 ings, though they can never be forgotten,
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 337 
 
 had better not be described. Suffice that 
 I insisted on supporting her home — And 
 it was such a home ! — shabby, dark, un- 
 wholesome — and I entreated to be al- 
 lowed to see her the next day. She did 
 not say No, and I fancied that she meant 
 to say Yes. I therefore called, but she 
 refused to see me. I called again — but 
 she was still denied. 
 
 iVt length I heard she was consider- 
 ably worse, and was in the greatest dan- 
 ger ; and I called every day, and almost 
 every hour, to inquire how she did. One 
 day when I called, the servant gave me 
 a letter addressed to me ; and changed 
 as the characters were, with a beating- 
 heart I recognised the precious hand- 
 writing of Mary. 
 
 I instantly flew to my hotel with 
 phrensied impetuosity, and locking my- 
 self into a room, I read — 
 
 ** I feel that I am dying ; and as death 
 VOL. I. a
 
 338 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 they say dissolves all ties and all obliga- 
 tions, but such as affection sanctions and 
 God approves, I trust that I may venture 
 to disclose the secrets of my heart ; and 
 as death endues me with this privilege, I 
 welcome its approach. Know then, that 
 I have always loved, and never loved any 
 other than you. But I was taught to 
 believe that you were false, and engaged 
 to another. Nay, they even caused your 
 marriage to be inserted in the paper. 
 But even that failed — and I declared your 
 faithlessness was no excuse for mine. 
 
 " The next attempt they made was a 
 terrible one ! — My father declared, if I 
 did not marry Mr. Desmond, he must de- 
 stroy himself: that he owed him a great 
 sum of money, which he could discharge 
 no other way than by giving him my 
 hand. I refused to believe this at first ; 
 but he brought me documents to prove 
 it ; and lastly, he produced tlie pistol, 
 and aimed it at his life.
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 339 
 
 " This is no new tale — no new inci- 
 dent — such things have been tried on 
 others. With me the plan succeeded, 
 and I married; — married without one 
 word of apology or excuse to you : and yet 
 I knew myself excusable. Judge then 
 what I felt, when you put those touching 
 generous lines in my hand — lines too 
 which reminded me of former days. My 
 first impulse was to write to you, and 
 exculpate myself: but my second was 
 to repress the culpable, ungenerous, and 
 dangerous design. ' No,' said I tj my- 
 self, ' if he still believes me unworthy, 
 he may forget me and be happy. But 
 if he knows me to be aggrieved, and not 
 guilty, he will love me still, and perhaps 
 seek me still : — and then how can I be 
 sure that I shall be able to resist the 
 pleadings of my own heart!' 
 
 " The first virtue is to avoid tempta- 
 tion ; — and I, acting on this principle, 
 forbore to write to you. O my beloved 
 
 €12
 
 340 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 Tilney ! may I not now rejoice humbly 
 over the consciousness of having done 
 thus — of having distrusted my own 
 strength — since I owe perhaps to that, 
 the support and comfort which I now 
 feel on this, my bed of death ! 
 
 " I have only to add^ that my hus- 
 band, conscious that I never loved him^ 
 and suspecting that I still loved you, 
 treated me with excessive unkindness ; 
 and that I even rejoiced in the utter de- 
 struction of our fortune, because it ridded 
 me of him. I had been gradually dying 
 of what is called a broken heart before he 
 left me — and the struggle is nearly over. 
 
 *' I have now unburthened my heart, 
 and it will be some comfort to me in my 
 last moments, to know that you will love, 
 not hate my memory : — but it is also 
 necessary for my peace, that you should 
 respect my reputation. Alone and un- 
 protected I cannot, must not receive 
 your visits, even if I were able ; and I
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 341 
 
 know you would yourself shrink from be- 
 ing the means of aspersing my hitherto 
 unblemished fame. ^Ve have therefore 
 met for the last time : but I saw by your 
 manner that you had forgiven my fauU, 
 even before you heard my exculpation, 
 and the remembrance will, even to mv 
 last breath, be sweet to my soul. 
 
 " God bless you, dearest of men ! 
 Surely, surely, the hope that we shall 
 meet again, in another world, is not, 
 
 cannot be delusion- 
 
 " Mary." 
 
 Reader, I did not repeat this letter 
 to my noble auditors ; I only told them 
 the heads of it ; that was enough for 
 them : — but I did tell them how I acted 
 in consequence of it. I mounted my 
 horse, and set off instantly to my mo- 
 ther, and put the letter, without speak- 
 ing, into her hand. 
 
 She read it with tears, and said, 
 '* What would you have me do V
 
 .)4Z PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 *' What your heart dictates." 
 
 " I understand you," she rephed. 
 Then v/riting a few hues, she ordered the 
 carriage. 
 
 *' Lord Vaurlen," said I after a pause, 
 ^' you leniemher my mother ?" 
 
 " Remember her! I should be 
 ashamed if I did not remember a woman 
 who was an honour and an ornament to 
 her sex! Oh, how proud have I and 
 other young men feU, when allowed to 
 see her to her carriage ! and we seemed 
 to respect ourselves for being able to feel 
 pleasure in showing our respect to vir- 
 tues like hers." 
 
 " I thank you, my lord," replied I with 
 deep emotion at this just and well-felt 
 tribute to the worth of my incomparable 
 mother. ." We\] then. Lord ^^nurien, 
 this spotless and generally revered being 
 undertook the care of my poor Marv ; 
 juid as soon as we reached Clifton, she 
 sent up the note which she had written to
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 343 
 
 her, to prepare her for a visit from her. 
 Mary, gratified beyond measure at this, 
 the greatest proof which I could give her 
 of my pardon and my respect, received 
 her according to our utmost wishes, and 
 comphed with all my mother desired. 
 
 That evening, wrapped up in blan- 
 kets, and supported by pillows, she was 
 conveyed to the best lodging in the place, 
 and one very near the Well. There my 
 mother remained with her, taking on her 
 the office of head nurse ; and as it was 
 impossible that calumny itself could cen- 
 sure the woman protected by Lady Old- 
 worth, Mary consented to see me once 
 or twice a week in my mother's presence; 
 and she was evidently improved in 
 strength, when the news reached us that 
 her husband was dead. 
 
 " What prospects of happiness now- 
 opened upon me ! How rapidly did 
 Mary's health seem to return with hope 
 and happiness ! while my beloved mother
 
 344 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 enjoyed the bright prospects of her dear 
 charge and of her son. 
 
 '^ But one day, wlien Mary had seemed 
 unusually well^ difficulty of breathing 
 suddenly returned, and even while she 
 was echoing my words, * How happy we 
 shall be after all our sufferings T she sud- 
 denly became chilled and convulsed, and 
 died without a groan." 
 
 Here I went into the inner apartment 
 for a moment, to indulge unseen an 
 emotion, which I believed was wholly un- 
 shared. But I suspect I wronged Lord 
 Vaurien, as he had betrayed once or twice 
 some corresponding feelings ; and I was 
 very apt to believe he sympathized with 
 me, and had never loved Lady Vaurien. 
 
 ** Now, my lord," said I, when I re- 
 turned, " Lam come to that part of my 
 story which will explain and account for 
 my having troubled you with these long 
 details. 
 
 " Perhaps I felt this blow more, be-
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 345 
 
 cause I had learnt to hope : but I had so 
 long despaired, and made up my mind 
 to the utter blight of my affections, that 
 I was not depressed as much as might 
 have been expected. Besides, I had the 
 consolation of knowing that my wealth 
 had contributed alt that wealth could do 
 to the comfort of the beloved being whom 
 I had lost ; — that my own mother had 
 been her nurse, her support, and her 
 soother in her last illness and last mo- 
 ments : and above all, I knew those last 
 moments were such as to give me every 
 security that she was now happy. Still I 
 had all my wonted fantasticality of feeling 
 and plans when distressed, and my mo- 
 ther wisely indulged me in it. — But I see 
 Lady Vaurien looks weary and impatient." 
 
 " Oh dear, no : I am quite interested. 
 Pray go on as long as you please " 
 
 *' One of these plans was this : — In 
 order to save one if not more virtuous 
 couple from being sacrificed in future to 
 a 5
 
 34() PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 the selfish designs of parents on then* 
 children ; to prevent such misery as my 
 heloved Mary had experienced from a 
 marriage in which the heart had no share, 
 I laid by fi certain sum of money, which 
 I resolved to give to the first young couple 
 who should be unable, from poverty, to 
 marrv for inclination ; and who should 
 also be exposed, by the avarice of their 
 parents, to the danger of forming an 
 union odious to themselves, and hateful 
 in the sight of God. 
 
 ^* The sum has now been appropriated, 
 but not called for during so many years, 
 that it is now a very considerable one, and 
 large enough to portion off more than 
 one bride ; and I consider the money de- 
 posited for that purpose, as my best tri- 
 bute to the memory and the misfortunes 
 of my only love. Hear me then, Lord 
 and Lady Vaurien : I repeat to you my 
 solemn promise to provide for three of 
 your boys : but I do not aspire to be the
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 347 
 
 liusband of Lady Mary. No, my lord, 
 let her marry the man of her choice, and 
 I will give her a sufficient dower." 
 
 *' With ail my heart !" cried Lord 
 Vaurien eagerly. 
 
 But Lady Vaurien said, *' But, sir, 
 Mr. Merital has nothing !" 
 
 '' He has Lady Mary's heart, madam ; 
 and I am told that he has virtues and 
 talents." 
 
 '' Yes, sir, but people cannot live on 
 them ; and Mary has been expensively 
 brought up." 
 
 '' Well, madam, Mr. Mental will, to 
 my certain knowledge, be inducted in a 
 few days to a living worth at least from 
 twelve to fifteen hundred pounds per an- 
 num. Will that satisfy you .^" 
 
 " O yes ! — -and if you will not really 
 marry Mary yourself....!" 
 
 *' I marry her, madam, after what I 
 know ! Do you think me a villain ? O 
 fie ! Lfidy Vaurien, I blush for you."
 
 348 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 " And so do I," said her lord ; *' and 
 I rejoice most heartily in the dear girFs 
 happy prospects. And how, sir, shall we 
 show our gratitude to you ?'' 
 
 " By not naming it. Yes, you can 
 oblige me by simply telling Lady Mary 
 I have made my proposals, and that they 
 are accepted ; and leave me to disclose 
 the truth to her." 
 
 They promised : and as Lady Mary's 
 accepted lover I was to return to din- 
 ner. 
 
 Certainly this was the happiest day in 
 my life. I was sure of having been the 
 means to crown the wishes of two faith- 
 ful and fond hearts ; and I felt that I had 
 not lived in vain. 
 
 My next step was to call on Mr. 
 Merita! : but, lest I should not find him 
 at home, I wrote him a letter, explaining 
 all that had passed, and engaging him 
 to come that evening to Lord Vaurien's, 
 and send for me out. But I found him
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 349 
 
 at home. However, as I now found an 
 unusual lack of words come over me, I 
 went in with the letter in my hand. I 
 dare say my look was very extraordinary ; 
 for he seemed not only surprised, but 
 agitated at this expected visit. And he 
 was so alarmed and confused that he did 
 not even ask me to sit down. 
 
 " Well, sir," said I, rendered awkward 
 by a situation so new and so embarrassing ; 
 *^ so you told me you were not going to 
 be married ; but I thought you were mis- 
 taken." 
 
 " How, sir ! do you doubt my word ?'' 
 cried he, looking so fierce that I believe 
 he forgot he had taken orders. 
 
 ** No, sir ; not at all : still I am sure 
 you are on the point of marriage." 
 
 " Absurd ! I thought, sir, you must 
 know — you must suspect...." 
 
 " I do know, and I do suspect ; but I 
 also know beyond suspicion, that you are
 
 350 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 going to be married, — and to Lady Mary 
 
 Lovely." 
 
 "Sir!" cried Merital, turning pale; 
 
 " this cruel insult — this mockery — this 
 
 trilling with my feelings, is what I did 
 
 not expect from vou, sir." 
 i ■J ' 
 
 " You are right," cried I ; "it does 
 seem like mockery, and I am an old fool ; 
 — but on my word, I cannot act more 
 coherently now, I am so overjoyed ; — but 
 read that, and then perhaps you will for- 
 give me." 
 
 So saying, I put the letter which I had 
 written into his hand. Happy young 
 man ! how I envied him his feelings, and 
 how fondly I remembered, how bitterly 
 I regretted mv poor JMary ! 
 
 Before he had read to the end, he ex- 
 claimed, — "^ This is too much, O sir ! " 
 And rushing into the other room, he 
 closed the door on him ; and it was some 
 minutes before he returned, and seizins;
 
 PROPOSALS or xMAPvRIAGE. 351 
 
 my hand, said, *'What can I say to 
 you, sir ? How can I express my grati- 
 tude ?" 
 
 *' You o'vve me none. I have given 
 Lady Mary to you, only to get rid of lier 
 myself." 
 
 *'How, sir.^" 
 
 " It is very true ; she vvoaid have in- 
 sisted on my marrying her, if you had 
 not. She absohitely offered herself to 
 me, to get rid of Lord Lawless ; therefore 
 in self-defence I contrived to secure her 
 marriage with you." 
 
 *' You are joking, sir." 
 
 *' No, I am not; I am in earnest. 
 She thought you faithless ; and wishing 
 to marr>;, to avoid persecution and get 
 from home, she wished to marry me 
 instead of Lord Lawless." 
 
 " That I do not wonder at, sir ; but 
 I had rather she had married Lord Law- 
 less, because ^oa she might have learnt 
 to love."
 
 352 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 Here was a compliment ! And bow 
 well, in a few v/ords, had this young 
 man acquitted all his obligations to 
 me! 
 
 *' I thank you," said I ; '' but I must 
 not stay here, — come to me to-night, at 
 Lord Vaurien's, — and leave the rest to 
 me." 
 
 I then drove home; tried to recruit in 
 solitude, and meditation, my disordered 
 spirits ; and having dressed, I repaired to 
 Lord Vaurien's to dinner. 
 
 But what a chill to my warm feelings 
 awaited me there ! Lady Alary seemed 
 now as averse to me, as to Lord Lawless, 
 and to shrink as mucli from a union with 
 me. I felt I had not deserved this, and 
 was angry at it ; and to punish her a lit- 
 tle, and prepare her at the same time, I 
 said, as I handed her down stairs, — 
 " So, Mr. Merital is not going to be 
 married ?'' 
 
 *' So my sister tells me," she replied;
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 353 
 
 And then, poor thing, her coldness was 
 accounted for. 
 
 Still I did not think Lady Mary used 
 me well, as I did not provoke such cold- 
 ness from her by any undue exhibition of 
 fondness ; and I blamed her perhaps too 
 severely. Nor would I after this at all 
 shorten the period of her trial and her 
 suffering. 
 
 At . nine I was told that a gentlem.an 
 desired to see me ; and going up to Lady 
 Mary, I told her that as Lord and Lady 
 Vaurien had agreed to my proposals, 
 they and I both thought that the mar- 
 riage had better take place as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 Lady Mary now turned very pale, and 
 replied in faltering accents, ** that she saw 
 no occasion for such haste ; that some 
 months hence indeed...." 
 
 '' Some months ! Unkind Lady Mary ! 
 Do you consider my age ? But perhaps
 
 354 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 you wish to take the chances of what a 
 few months may do for me." 
 
 Lady Mary was shocked; and coriscioiis 
 she was acting ungratefully, replied, 
 scarcely able to refrain from tears, ^'Well, 
 sir, in a few weeks be it then." 
 
 " I hoped you would say days," replied 
 I ; and so said her father and mother : 
 .but Lady Mary was firm. I then said, a 
 gentleman was waiting below whom I 
 wished to introduce that evening, because 
 I had resolved that he should perform 
 the marriage ceremony; and that he 
 should not be to present when the day 
 came ; and I added smiling, that if he 
 was not allowed to be one of the princi- 
 pal people on the occasion, there should 
 not, with my consent, be a marriage at 
 all. 
 
 Lord and Lady Vaurien smiled, and 
 understood me ; but Lady Mary Vv^as too 
 unhappy to notice much what I said. All
 
 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 355 
 
 she heard was, that I was going to intro- 
 duce the gentleman who was to perform 
 the marriage ceremony ; and the idea of 
 that was insupportable. 
 
 I now quitted the room, and returned 
 with Merita! . At sight of her lover 
 Lady Mary screamed, started forward, 
 and then fainted in her father's arms ; 
 and I began to be sensible I had behaved 
 very foolishly, and sported with feelings 
 that deserved more consideration. But 
 Lady Mary soon recovered, and recover- 
 ed to an almost insupportable sense of 
 happiness ; for all was soon explained to 
 her ; and the sight of the happiness vdiich 
 I had occasioned was balm of the most 
 precious kind to my widowed heart. 
 
 To be brief. Lady Mary in 'AJ'eiv days 
 agreed to marry Merital, though she re- 
 fused to marry me earlier than a few 
 lueeks ; and thus she utterly knocked 
 down the fabric of vanit}- in me which 
 she had built up ; and she continues to
 
 356 PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 look, and to be so happy in her marriage, 
 that I have in vain expected her to smooth 
 down the ruffled phunes of my self- 
 love, by saying, — "^ Oh ! Mr.Tr^sgothic, 
 that you would but have married me 
 yourself !" 
 
 T. T. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 R. and A. Taijhr, Pnnltrs, London.