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 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
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 TALES 
 
 OF 
 
 MY T I M E. 
 
 AUTHOR OF BLUE-STOCKING HALL. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 WHO IS SHE? 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY 
 NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1829.
 
 3 B. NICHOLS AND SON, 
 25, Parliament Street.
 
 3 
 
 v/,1, 
 
 WHO IS SHE? 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The following story is founded on facts which 
 came within the knowledge of the writer. The 
 precise point at which truth ends, and fiction 
 begins, it is not necessary to divulge ; but in an 
 age when an avidity for ths stimulus of real ad- 
 venture seems in a great degree to have super- 
 seded the love of mere romance, it may not be 
 uninteresting to state that the heroine of the 
 following pages is not altogether a creature of 
 
 b 2
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Oh ! this is trim ! " — Troilus and Cressida. 
 
 At not more than a stone's throw from a neat 
 market town, in a certain shire of England, 
 lived Francis Hartland, Esq. in a well-built 
 square house, which was separated from the 
 King's high road, by a lawn of twenty acres. 
 Round this lawn a double row of handsome elms 
 lined a ring fence, and formed the outer boun- 
 dary, in that part next the house, of a bank 
 covered with all sorts of shrubs, which sloped in 
 a gradually inclined plane, from the shining 
 laurel to the dwarf cistus, and met a broad belt 
 of gravel, hard and smooth as marble, through 
 which no upstart weed ever dared to force its 
 way. This walk was fringed by a border of 
 flowers, in such variety of glowing tints, that
 
 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 lawn and all might be aptly compared to a robe of 
 green velvet, trimmed with a phylactery of broi- 
 dered work, worthy of Sheba's Queen in all her 
 glory, while the whole exhibited such precision 
 and nicety in the keeping, as to suggest the idea 
 that its owner, in league with the fairies, possessed 
 some secret charm against every noxious reptile 
 and devouring fly. 
 
 This Snuggery was not the hereditary right 
 of Mr. Hartland, but was purchased for valu- 
 able consideration, and he came to live in it, 
 nobody knew from whence, or how incited. 
 
 His appearance did not afford rich material 
 for romance ; for he was a sleek, mild, contented 
 looking man of forty odd, with an open coun- 
 tenance. A spacious forehead of pipe-clay 
 whiteness, from which his hair was making an- 
 nual recession, surmounted a nose of latinos- 
 trous projection, eyes of rather the " lack lus- 
 tre" character, and cheeks of roseate hue, or 
 perhaps more truly, though less poetically, of 
 brick-dust dye; while the toitte ensemble re- 
 ceived decoration from a set of teeth which 
 seemed as if they had been newly chiselled from
 
 the finest block of ivory ever imported from the 
 land of Ophir. But curiosity can find brows- 
 ing even where food is most scantily provided : 
 and accordingly nothing could surpass the sen- 
 sation produced by Mr. Hartland's arrival at 
 Henbury Lodge. The industry and zeal set in 
 motion by this event were rewarded at length to 
 a certain extent by information that the new 
 comer was related to a noble house, and pos- 
 sessed a clear independent property of twelve 
 hundred a year. Farther deponent sayeth not : 
 but it usually happens that where truth ends, 
 generous fiction takes up the tale, and a thou- 
 sand stories were soon in circulation. That 
 which excited most interest, and was therefore 
 most frequently repeated, though entirely di- 
 vested of foundation, gave to understand that a 
 matrimonial disappointment had driven him from 
 the scene of mortification, and induced his re- 
 moval to a region in which he might hope to 
 forget its sting. 
 
 Mr. Hartland's manner and appearances un- 
 questionably contradicted this surmise ; but no 
 matter for that. We know that stubborn facts
 
 8 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 are accustomed to bend to theory in cases more 
 impracticable than this; and therefore, though we 
 may object to the idea that features which seemed 
 to be moulded for the seat of a perennial smile, 
 had ever been " sicklied o'er with the pale cast 
 of thought," no such incongruity was perceived 
 in the market-town of which our narrative 
 makes mention ; and not only was Mr. Hartland 
 believed to have suffered all the pangs and pe- 
 nalties of slighted passion ; but by degrees a cer- 
 tain name, locality, height, complexion, and 
 many other particulars, came to be added re- 
 specting the cruel fair one, with such variance 
 as suited the character of each reporter. 
 
 The honest truth of the matter was, that Mr. 
 Hartland came to his present independence late 
 in life, and regulated his mind till then, by the 
 pole-star maxim, which he imbibed with his 
 alphabet, that the worst of all poor things was 
 a poor marriage. His father died before he was 
 born ; and his mother, who understood the art 
 of making one pound perform the work of two 
 in any other hands, had contrived to educate 
 her darling and only child, by exercising the
 
 WHO IS SHE? 9 
 
 closest economy ; but, strange to say, instead of 
 placing him in any profession by which he 
 might support himself, and repay her for the sa- 
 crifices she had made, she preferred keeping him 
 at home, and it was her pride and delight, that 
 whatever were the privations which she endured, 
 her son should know no want. Young Hartland 
 had his horse, while his mother assured him 
 that she chose to walk ; his boots and shoes shone 
 like mirrors, his hat was glossy as a raven's 
 wing, and his whole wardrobe appointed with as 
 much care as if he only waited for his legal majo- 
 rity to step into a good estate. 
 
 But one and twenty years had looked at 
 themselves in the glass of one and twenty more, 
 ere any change occurred ; and then the heirship 
 to a comfortable property put him in possession 
 of easy circumstances only just three months 
 before death deprived him of her with whom he 
 had passed his days. This event rendered his 
 home intolerable, and ability to quit the scene 
 of his loss coinciding with inclination to do so, 
 Mr. Hartland sought in all directions for an 
 eligible residence. Being a man of orderly and 
 b5
 
 10 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 clock-work habits, who had performed a mea- 
 sured round of daily action from the time of his 
 earliest childhood, he felt no desire to alter the 
 manner of his life, but only wished to continue 
 its wonted routine upon a different stage. It 
 never once occurred to his imagination that 
 foreign travel, or even the recreation of a neigh- 
 bouring watering place, might afford diversion 
 to the uneasy thoughts which possessed his 
 mind ; but lighting accidentally upon an adver- 
 tisement, which set forth that Henbury, with its 
 appurtenances, was to be sold, he immediately 
 resolved on being the purchaser. There were 
 just as many acres as constituted his beau ideal 
 of a snug abode, and he lost no time in trans- 
 planting thither every biped and quadruped on 
 which he was accustomed to rest his eyes, inso- 
 much that when first he opened them after 
 sleeping in his new domicile, every thing around 
 was so tranquilly arranged that he would have 
 been scarcely sensible of having quitted his 
 ancient abiding place, had not the painful feel- 
 ing been removed of association with the image 
 of his poor mother, whose arm-chair and work-
 
 Who is she ? 11 
 
 basket no longer rose upon his view, empty and 
 unoccupied in their allotted corner. 
 
 Now it may easily be conceived that Mr. 
 Hartland, such as we have depicted him, though 
 himself unperturbed, caused an active stir in 
 the neighbourhood of his new habitation. The 
 tradespeople all gave testimony to his being 
 " a pure substantial man, who paid for every 
 thing he had like a true gentleman. " The regu- 
 larity of his attendance at church gained him 
 the rector's marked approval ; while the apothe- 
 cary sighed as he contemplated the damask of 
 a cheek which seemed to hold out little hope of 
 requiring aid from the leech's skill, or the rosy 
 conserves of his shop. But the chief commo- 
 tion was among the female part of the commu- 
 nity, who, some for themselves, and others for 
 their daughters, set a longing eye on Henbury's 
 " crisped shades and bowers," where revelled 
 " the spruce and jocund spring." On Sundays 
 a general determination of gay hats and bonnets 
 was observable towards that part of the church 
 which was occupied by Mr. Hartland, where 
 such a stream of floating ribbons might be re-
 
 12 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 marked converging to his pew, as to authorise 
 the belief that a current of the electrid fluid set 
 in that direction, and drew the silken pennants 
 thus to a point. The new comer was visited 
 and invited by all the inhabitants of the neigh- 
 bourhood, and declared to be an acquisition 
 wherever he appeared. " Upon my word, a 
 very sensible steady man is Mr. Hartland," was 
 the usual panegyric pronounced by his hosts, 
 while the old ladies protested that he played a 
 capital game of whist, and the young confessed 
 that though he had passed the first season of 
 youth, he had not seen out its bloom. 
 
 Now it so happened that in the centre of the 
 market-place, and in a house distinguished 
 bv two bay windows so prominent and closely 
 set, that they looked like the eyes of a prawn, 
 and served as spectacles to her who dwelt 
 within, there lived a maiden yclept Jemima 
 Ferret, whose name remarkably coincided with 
 her character and vocation. Nature had origi- 
 nally bestowed upon her features divested of all 
 attraction, and the small-pox had fatally con- 
 firmed the decree which had been issued in her
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 13 
 
 cradle against the chances of a husband. Je- 
 mima had attained the age of fifty without a sin- 
 gle proposal, though her favourite adage, and 
 one which she repeated with such emphasis as 
 to prove that she believed it in her heart, was, 
 that " every Jack has his Jill/' 
 
 When, however, half a century had fairly 
 glided down the stream of time, Miss Ferret 
 transferred with honest zeal all those exertions 
 to the circle which surrounded her, which had 
 hitherto proved inefficacious while applied to 
 her own use ; and as the materials upon which 
 she worked were often widely different from 
 those on which her skill had been originally 
 employed, the success was proportionate ; and 
 Jemima Ferret rose to the highest pinnacle of 
 consideration, as the most adroit and judicious 
 negociator who ever made a match, and brought 
 together two individuals in the holy bands of 
 wedlock. Such was the profound sagacity, such 
 the acknowledged ability and discretion of this 
 hymeneal plenipotentiary, that she was always 
 given carte blanche to proceed according to her 
 own views, and there was a general understand-
 
 14 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 ing that whatever she "brought about," was 
 effected in the very best manner. 
 
 In fact, such was the confidence which she 
 inspired, that her neighbours frequently avoided 
 betraying their wishes in any direct commission, 
 relying upon her tact and penetration for dis- 
 covering the secret purpose of their hearts, and 
 forwarding their wishes if no pre-arrangement 
 of her own militated against them ; in which 
 case it was well known that her manoeuvring 
 so far surpassed any tactics which could be 
 brought in opposition, as to secure the crown of 
 victory, and render vain every effort at competi- 
 tion. 
 
 Not to lead our readers into any false conclu- 
 sions, which a little trouble in the way of expla- 
 nation might prevent, it may be well to state the 
 motives which induced an activity of zeal so 
 very striking and conspicuous. Be it known, 
 then, that Miss Ferret's income was a very small 
 one, and though since she had given up all hope 
 of bettering her fortune by a lucrative barter of 
 such qualifications as she had to exchange for 
 their money price, she had improved her
 
 WHO IS SHE t lO 
 
 means, by sinking her little capital for an an- 
 nuity, it was not so liberal a stipend as to render 
 her by any means indifferent to increase of com- 
 fort ; and she prudently considered that the next 
 best thing to forming a good establishment for 
 herself, which we have hinted had hitherto 
 proved impracticable, would be to secure as 
 many settlements as she could for her friends, 
 amongst whom she might pass from house to 
 house much to the solace of her spirits and the 
 relief of her purse. 
 
 In this office of match-making, then, which 
 she raised to the dignity of a regular trade, or 
 profession, she put forth all the strength of her 
 talents, and prospered exceedingly. She had 
 all sorts, sizes, and descriptions under her pa- 
 tronage ; and her powers were so generally 
 known, that though people did not like to own 
 their obligation to a third person in matters of 
 so delicate a nature, they were nevertheless se- 
 cretly felt to be of such importance, that to con- 
 ciliate Miss Ferret's regards became a point of 
 rivalry in and about the town in which she re- 
 sided.
 
 16 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 Mr. Hartland, without being aware of the 
 honour, was placed at the head of her list for 
 matrimonial preferment as soon as he had come 
 into possession of Henbury ; but for once, Je- 
 mima was puzzled about a help -mate for him, 
 some objection having occurred to three several 
 young ladies, whom she kept constantly in mind, 
 and who were still on the unattached service. 
 When things are least expected, however, they 
 often come to pass, and it so chanced, that while 
 Hymen's charge d'affaires was at fault for her 
 game, Miss Robinson came to pay a visit at 
 Colbrook, the seat of Sir Roger Goodman, an 
 opulent and corpulent Baronet, who lived within 
 the district which Miss Ferret resolved should 
 limit the circuit of her exertions; because 
 to have engaged in distant experiment would 
 have increased difficulties, and diminished the 
 probability of successful result. 
 
 The arrival of this lady, who deserves to be the 
 heroine of a chapter, as she was soon destined 
 to be head of a house, at once furnished a sub- 
 ject to animate the genius of our fair undertaker.
 
 WHO IS she r 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 17 
 
 " The first springs of great events, like those of great rivers, 
 are often mean and little."— Swift. 
 
 Miss Robinson, the heroine of our present 
 chapter, was just five and thirty, tall, thin, and 
 well dressed, with something in her manner 
 smart, clever, cheerful, and offhand, but free 
 from boldness, which rendered her particularly 
 agreeable to shy men, with whom she was ob- 
 served to be a wonderful favourite. Then Miss 
 Robinson had a " pretty fortune" of five thou- 
 sand pounds entirely at her own disposal ; and 
 the only possible maimer of accounting for her 
 protracted " single blessedness," was by the sup- 
 position that either some " disappointment" had 
 occurred in early life, which she was too proud 
 or too independent to turn to advantage, or that 
 she had been "over nice" in making her election, 
 and discovered now that people might be too fas-
 
 18 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 tidious for the rapidity with which youth and 
 bloom wing their cruel flight. 
 
 This at least was the way in which the point 
 was decided by general report, and how the case 
 really stood is not material to our present pur- 
 pose to determine. The reader may perhaps 
 imagine that Miss Ferret was not of such a grade 
 in society, as to admit of her insinuating herself 
 amongst the guests in a baronet's house, and 
 that her ambition, confined to an humbler walk, 
 would scarcely aspire so high as to rule the des- 
 tinies of two such people as Miss Robinson and 
 Mr. Hartland, but the fact was otherwise. A 
 downright country neighbourhood, far removed 
 from metropolitan fastidiousness, admits of oc- 
 casional mixtures unknown to high life in town, 
 and when we consider that the Ferret family, 
 of which Jemima was the last remnant, had 
 lived with credit, and voted steadily for Sir 
 Roger during a course of years, as also that 
 Miss Ferret's central position close to the mar- 
 ket-place, afforded her opportunity of forestall- 
 ing the scanty and uncertain supplies of fish, 
 sweetbreads, and other delicacies which are the
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 19 
 
 pivots on which turns the fame of a dinner en- 
 tertainment in a remote situation, it cannot 
 surely surprise any reasonable person that Miss 
 Ferret should often be invited to mount her 
 pony, and with her dinner dress tied in a hand- 
 kerchief, and suspended from the pummel, soli- 
 cited to partake of the good cheer which her 
 late and early vigilance had provided. She was, 
 besides, a woman of address. If she passed a 
 carriage on the road, she drew her veil over her 
 face, and never rode up to the front door. 
 
 She had likewise a permanent deposit of 
 flowers, feathers, and furbelows, which were left 
 in a bandbox at Colbrook, under the guardian- 
 ship of Lady Goodman's maid, with whom she 
 was a prime favourite ; as, however multifarious 
 the concerns on her hands, she never forgot to 
 slip a volume of the last novel into her bundle 
 for Mrs. Hopkins. If a servant was to be 
 hired, Miss Ferret inquired the character; if a 
 bargain was to be had, Miss Ferret heard of, 
 and recommended it to her friends, and when 
 all her various utilities were performed, the 
 dulce was not neglected. Enriched with a count-
 
 20 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 less fund of on dits, and freighted with charades, 
 epigrams, epithalamiums, and pasquinades, this 
 active member of society defied all the powers 
 of dulness to produce stagnation of tongues, 
 whenever she was one of the company. 
 
 Well, in brisk spirits and iron-sided health, 
 after executing a list of commissions, half a yard 
 in length, for Lady Goodman, off cantered 
 Miss Ferret, in joyous anticipation of a plea- 
 sant week at Colbrook. Her reception was 
 gladdening. " My dear creature, welcome," 
 said Lady Goodman, " you are actually my 
 right hand ; I do not know what in the world I 
 should do without you. Did you remember the 
 wax candles, and the snuff for Sir Roger, and 
 the cards, and my watch which I sent to have a 
 new crystal, and did you pay Farquar's bill ? " 
 
 " I have done, ordered, and paid every 
 thing." 
 
 " Welcome, my dear, a thousand times ! " re- 
 plied Lady Goodman ; " come, and tell me all 
 the news." 
 
 " Ah ! Ferret," exclaimed Sir Roger, who 
 entered at this moment, " I rejoice to see you. 
 Sad weather this ; I have been as dead as ditch
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 21 
 
 water, I can tell you, and am glad that you are 
 come to keep me awake. The glass too is 
 rising ; you bring good luck with you ; but here 
 is Mr. Hartland riding up the avenue ; I must 
 go and meet him." 
 
 " Oh ! I'm glad that you have asked Mr. 
 Hartland; that's a nice man; I've seen a great 
 deal of him lately," said Miss Ferret, as she 
 turned to Lady Goodman; " but hav'nt you got 
 Miss Robinson with vou ? I lon^ to see her : 
 
 J o 
 
 How does she look ? when did she come ? does 
 she stay long ? " 
 
 " She arrived on Wednesday, stays a month, 
 and I never saw her looking better," answ r ered 
 Lady Goodman. 
 
 " A nice thing," said Miss Ferret, " if we 
 could make up a match between Mr. Hartland 
 and Miss Robinson, would'nt it, Lady G. ? " 
 
 " So it would ; " replied her Ladyship; " but 
 though your fame stands high, I think you'll 
 hardly have ingenuity to bring that matter to 
 bear. They say that he 's not at all a marrying 
 man, and if he 's one of the bashful fraternity, 
 there will not be time to get over the horrors of
 
 22 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 presentation to a stranger, before Harriet will 
 leave us to go to her sister in Scotland." 
 
 " We must only not lose time," said Miss 
 Ferret, " but make hay while the sun shines." 
 
 The door opened, and Sir Roger presented 
 Mr. Hartland to the ladies. Though not an 
 elegant man, there was nothing either coarse or 
 revolting in his demeanour. On the contrary, he 
 comported himself extremely well, in a plain 
 and equable manner, without effort or pertur- 
 bation, whatever were the society into which 
 he happened to fall. A phlegmatic tempera- 
 ment, combining with constitutional prudence, 
 and his mother's counsel, had preserved Mr. 
 Hartland in early life from those exciting cir- 
 cumstances which often plunge young people 
 into love entanglements; and incredible as it 
 may seem to those who have been differently 
 situated, it is not the less true, that he had lived 
 so little in mixed society, and had been so little 
 in the way of flirtation, that no rumour of mar- 
 riage had ever been coupled with his name ; and 
 thus at an age when others have handed over 
 their sensibilities to a new generation, this se-
 
 WHO IS SHE f 23 
 
 rene and unaffected man was only commencing 
 his career of life, with all the simplicity of un- 
 tried youth. 
 
 The company assembled ; and such as have 
 experienced the up-hill work of conversation at 
 a country dinner, when the subjects of weather, 
 crops, the moon, and the roads are pumped dry, 
 will easily believe, that if Miss Ferret were not 
 the most polished woman in the world, her ani- 
 mation rendered her, notwithstanding, the most 
 agreeable ingredient upon many occasions, in 
 those assemblies which her presence enlivened. 
 She had the art to shake a drawing-room toge- 
 ther, if we may use such a simile ; and wherever 
 she was she contrived to prevent that stratifica- 
 tion of men and women which madame de Stael 
 has so happily described, as characteristic of an 
 English provincial half hour before dinner. 
 Miss Ferret had seen the last newspaper, or 
 talked with "an intelligent man who had 
 stepped from the coach " in the precise moment 
 of her setting out; or she had heard a paragraph 
 read from a London letter ; or had a conference 
 with the post-master immediately before she
 
 24 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 quitted home; in short she knew something 
 either true or false, which no one else happened 
 to know, of every thing and every body. Thin 
 and active, she glided about the room, and 
 brought people into actual contact who had 
 never interchanged a look till she appeared. 
 Like the grouting of a wall she compacted and 
 cemented what was nothing but a heap of loose 
 disjointed stones, till her vivacious tongue 
 poured in its eloquence amongst them. 
 
 When the glad announcement was sounded, 
 that dinner was served, Miss Ferret, who had 
 laid her plan of operations, commenced them 
 by keeping up such a cross fire of talk, while the 
 company were in the act of descending the 
 stairs, that by the time they reached the dining- 
 parlour, she new marshalled the guests without 
 being perceived by any one, and contrived to 
 slide herself into a chair between Miss Robinson 
 and Mr. Hartland. The more obvious arrange- 
 ment which, by placing the gentleman in the 
 centre, would have given both ladies an equal 
 claim on his attention, mifjht not have been so 
 judicious; but by Miss Ferret's disposition of
 
 WHO IS SHE? 25 
 
 affairs, she constituted herself the " soft inter- 
 mediate" through whom any intercourse held by 
 the extremes must pass; and she was thus 
 enabled to regulate and guide it as was most 
 conducive to her ultimate ends. Before the 
 dessert came upon the table she had ventured 
 to insinuate that there was a wonderful sympa- 
 thy in the tastes of her proteges; and as she con- 
 veyed their sentiments from one to the other 
 upon the comparative merits of roast and boiled, 
 fricassee and fry, hot and cold, town and coun- 
 try, with sundry other interesting opposites 
 which she herself suggested, there certainly did 
 appear to be a harmony of opinion which bid 
 fair for domestic union in that state of life 
 which, we are taught to believe, traces much of 
 the unhappiness by which it is, alasl so fre- 
 quently embittered, to a fatal talent for disputa- 
 tion upon such like topics of daily recurrence. 
 
 The perpetual succession of single drops will 
 wear out a rock, and therefore Miss Ferret 
 seemed to be guided by sound discretion in her 
 admiration of minor harmonies, life being, as 
 she always observed, "made up of little things." 
 
 vol. i. c
 
 26 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 From generals it was natural to descend to par- 
 ticulars, and Hen bury itself was on the tapis ere 
 the ladies withdrew. Miss Ferret asked Miss 
 Robinson, if she, who was so partial to the pur- 
 suit of rural objects, and knew " every thing 
 about plants from the oak to the daisy," had 
 ever seen a cork tree? 
 
 On being answered in the negative, Miss 
 Ferret exclaimed, " Oh I am so glad that we 
 have any thing new to shew you ! By the bye, 
 madcap that 1 am, I am reckoning without my 
 host, and must have Mr. Hartland's leave to per- 
 form my promise, as it is at Henbury that the cu- 
 riosity which I have mentioned is to be found. 
 They say that it was brought over a sapling 
 from Cintra, near Lisbon, fully an hundred 
 years ago, by an officer who gave it to my poor 
 grandfather, who then rented the lands which 
 now belong to Mr. Hartland." 
 
 Mr. Hartland blushed, and his skin being 
 thin and fail*, the suffusion was manifest to a 
 degree which augured well for setting fire to 
 the train which was laid in Miss Ferret's mind, 
 as he replied, " I have horses which cannot be
 
 WHO IS SHE? 27 
 
 employed in a better service, and at any time I 
 shall be happy to engage their best offices in 
 procuring such an honour as you kindly design 
 for their master," 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. Hartland, you are 
 very polite, and much more than I deserve after 
 such a liberty as I have taken ; but I mean to 
 profit by it, I assure you. Miss Robinson ought 
 not to suffer for my inadvertence in forgetting, 
 that with my poor grandfather all my interest in 
 Henbury passed away. We will accept your 
 friendly invitation, though not your horses ; for 
 I am sure, that unless the rheumatism pinched 
 severely, Sir Roger could not refuse his fa- 
 vourite Miss Robinson any thing. You know, 
 my dear, that Sir Roger admires you more than 
 any one ; and I often tell Lady Goodman, that 
 she is the best tempered, amiable creature in 
 the world not to be jealous ; but she dotes upon 
 you quite as much. So you see that I have no 
 chance of breaking the peace at Colbrook, which 
 is mortifying, as it is proverbially, you know, an 
 old maid's province and privilege to make mis- 
 chief wherever she goes." 
 c2
 
 28 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 What with blushing, bantering, laughing, 
 and complimenting, a very fair measure of exe- 
 cution was done before the party re-assembled 
 above stairs, and Miss Ferret, who, like all wise 
 people, was a keen observer of portents, re- 
 marked that Mr. Hard and was the first gentle- 
 man to leave the dining-room ; upon which she 
 gave a significant wink, accompanied by a smile, - 
 the meaning of which was only understood by 
 Miss Robinson, to whom Miss Ferret had just 
 whispered previously that she saw strange things 
 in her tea-cup. 
 
 To talk of fortunes and fortune-tellers might 
 have been too direct a mode of attack. So 
 thought one who was never mistaken in her 
 calculation, and turning rapidly to a little black 
 dog which sat wagging his tail at Lady Good- 
 man's side, Miss Ferret, with masterly presence 
 of mind, said, as if continuing the previous con- 
 versation, " Well, it shall be submitted, as Miss 
 Robinson will have it so, to Mr. Hartland. Oh ! 
 here he is ! Come here, Duke — shew yourself to 
 this gentleman. Mr. Hartland, Miss Robinson 
 and I have had almost a duel about this little
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 29 
 
 animal, which she declares is not of the true 
 Norfolk breed ; while I maintain that it is ; and 
 moreover that the first of the kind was brought 
 here by my poor uncle Jacob Ferret, who got 
 him at Arundel Castle, and carried him, when 
 a puppy, many a weary mile in his bosom. Now 
 I think my information decisive ; Miss Robinson 
 however will not yield; but to settle the dis- 
 pute, she says that you shall be umpire/' 
 
 Mr. Hartland looked evidently highly grati- 
 fied, and proceeded directly to -an examination of 
 Duke's mouth, Lady Goodman laughing a gorge 
 deployee at the ready witted Ferret and the con- 
 fusion of Miss Robinson, who, all astonishment 
 at our diplomatist's facility of invention, was 
 completely nonplused. To have contradicted 
 Miss Ferret's statement, however, would only 
 have made matters worse, and proved still more 
 unequivocally to Mr. Hartland that he had been 
 the subject of discussion ; so quietly acquiescing, 
 she waited in silence for judgment to be pro- 
 nounced. 
 
 " Miss Robinson is quite right," said Mr. 
 Hartland. " Duke is a beautiful creature, but 
 all his ancestors are not from Arundel."
 
 30 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 " Well, well, needs must, and I give up," 
 answered Miss Ferret ; " but it is enough to pro- 
 voke a saint that Miss Robinson is always right, 
 and I am always wrong. I firmly believe that 
 she bribes all our judges." 
 
 Her next coup d'essai was at the card-table. 
 She had accomplished the point of involving 
 Miss Robinson and Mr. Hartland in a descant 
 upon all manner of spaniels, pointers, pugs, and 
 poodles, which ramified into sundry other 
 topics, and she now thought it high time to look 
 after Sir Roger, for whom she soon arranged a 
 rubber of whist; and after manoeuvring for 
 some time, set down the Baronet and an excel- 
 lent player who lived in his neighbourhood, 
 against the pair whom she determined to bring 
 together in a partnership of a more durable 
 continuance. 
 
 " Come, my dear," said she, " Lady Good- 
 man always makes me her aide de camp. I am 
 beating up for recruits. Here are Sir Roger 
 and Mr. Gresham ready : Mr. Hartland will 
 play, I know; but unless you are kind enough 
 to take a hand, we shall be badly off. Do you
 
 WHO IS SHE? 31 
 
 begin, and I will cut in by and by. I know 
 that you are not fond of cards, but you are 
 always fond of obliging." 
 
 So saying, she bustled the people into their 
 places, talking unceasingly — cut for partners 
 herself, to save time she said, and had them all 
 seated and the first deal commenced, before any 
 one was aware how he or she came to be so dis- 
 posed and employed. 
 
 When Miss Ferret had skimmed round the 
 room, setting every body and mind in motion, 
 she returned to a post where she was always 
 welcome, particularly when fortune favoured, 
 namely, at the corner of the card-table, all but 
 in Sir Roger's pocket. From this vantage- 
 ground she viewed the game ; remembering 
 every card, and gave a casting voice on sundry 
 contested questions. From the same situation 
 she likewise dispensed between the deals the 
 pungent jest, the lively sally, or smart repartee; 
 raised the sinking spirits of a vanquished foe, or 
 curbed the too triumphant crowing of success. 
 Here too she sat ready to ply her host with a 
 pinch of snuff, or a judiciously tempered dose of
 
 32 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 flattery, as the case required. No genius ever 
 elicited in the corps diplomatique is on record 
 for a nicer trait of generalship than was exhi- 
 bited on this evening by our female politician, 
 who had calculated to a hair, and now shewed 
 the perfection of her practice by bringing out her 
 scheme with flying colours. Miss Ferret knew 
 that Miss Robinson was no whist player, and 
 though Mr. Hartland was a remarkably good 
 one, the inferior skill of his partner would, she 
 equally knew, so far counteract his sagacity as 
 to prevent any chance of victory over the well- 
 sustained game of two such antagonists as Sir 
 Roger Goodman and Mr. Gresham. It was 
 Miss Ferret's design that the Baronet should 
 win; and in order to explain the rationale of 
 her plan, it may not be amiss to give a brief 
 sketch in this place of this worthy's character. 
 
 Sir Roger was descended from an ancient 
 house, and inherited a fine place, but small for- 
 tune, which occasioned a perpetual strife be- 
 tween family pride and poverty. He had been 
 at school what is called a plover-pated boy, and 
 in fact arrived at manhood's prime with as light
 
 WHO IS SHE? 33 
 
 a burthen of learning as any dunce need ever 
 desire to carry. The sports of the field, 
 however, gave him ample occupation, and he 
 married the daughter of a wealthy trader, whose 
 well lined coffers would have supplied the de- 
 ficiency of his patrimonial inheritance, if an ill 
 timed bankruptcy had not frustrated his hopes. 
 This was a severe stroke ; it was however irreme- 
 diable, and while health and strength continued, 
 matters went on tolerably well. Sir Roger 
 became the most skilful farmer in the whole 
 country, and Lady Goodman, who was a virtuous 
 and prudent woman, managed her department 
 with cleverness and economy. 
 
 But as time revolved, reverses occurred ; 
 two or three infant children dropped off — 
 Colbrook was left without an heir — and a 
 chronic rheumatism succeeded, which called for 
 more temper, resignation, and resource of mind 
 than poor Sir Roger possessed to meet the de- 
 mand. His decline of life, therefore, exhibited 
 the sorry picture of a nervous, growling old 
 man, who revenged every cloud in the sky which 
 produced a sharper twinge, on every body who 
 c 5
 
 34 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 came in his way. His temper was graduated 
 like the barometer, and rose or fell with the 
 elasticity of the atmosphere. 
 
 Amongst the most exasperating trials of his 
 life was loss at cards ; and yet to abstain from 
 playing was a still greater cross to one so en- 
 tirely dependent, as was Sir Roger, on external 
 excitement. He delighted in the company of 
 Miss Ferret, who acted like sal volatile on his 
 spirits, and Lady Goodman was so glad to have 
 her at Col brook, that it mi^ht alwavs have been 
 the residence of this useful personage, if her 
 pride had not revolted at the idea of being 
 called " a companion." 
 
 Such then was the outline of domestic affairs 
 in the family of Goodman, and Miss Ferret knew 
 what she was about, when she resolved that Sir 
 Roger should find his purse much heavier at the 
 end than beginning of the evening. But how 
 did Mr. Hartland feel respecting these arrange- 
 ments of which he appeared to be the victim ? 
 He was amply compensated by the partnership 
 in, which his losses were sustained; and which 
 furnished occasion for several allusions, artfully
 
 WHO IS SHE? 35 
 
 improved by Miss Ferret', to fate — fortune — 
 identity of interests — and sympathy in adversity, 
 which never advancing in direct allusion beyond 
 the literal precincts of the game in hand, 
 suggested, notwithstanding, pleasing thoughts 
 of an undefined nature which were as new to 
 Mr, Hartland as if he had just entered his 
 seventeenth year, and experienced for the first 
 time, the stimulus and delight which is felt by a 
 boy when taken notice of in female society. 
 
 So happy was the progress of affairs, that when 
 the cards were shuffled in the last deal by Miss 
 Robinson, and she summed up in a total the va- 
 rious items of apology which had preceded, by 
 saying, " Well, Mr. Hartland, my bad play has 
 been visited severely on you ; your temper has 
 indeed been tried in the furnace, and you have 
 reason to remember the evil star which con- 
 demned you to such a destiny this evening :" her 
 partner was observed to colour, while he replied, 
 with more animation than could have been an- 
 ticipated in one who had lost every rubber, 
 u Miss Robinson, it is more agreeable to fail in
 
 36 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 some company than succeed elsewhere. I can 
 remember nothing but the pleasures of this day." 
 
 " Why, my dear creature," said Miss Ferret, 
 as she addressed Miss Robinson, " you have been 
 horribly unlucky. I protest you have nothing for 
 it left but selling out of the funds to pay off 
 your debts, and though all you Change-alley 
 people have been turned to coiners by the late 
 rise of stock, it will not do to lift one's capital." 
 
 The table broke up; Mr. Gresham rubbed 
 his hands self complacently, and moving briskly 
 towards a window, said, " Somebody mentioned 
 a star just now, which reminds me to look for 
 some friendly ray to guide me home." 
 
 Mr. Hartland, who was equally interested in 
 the light of the firmament, followed slowly, and 
 was the first to exclaim, " How dark it is ! " 
 
 " It is indeed," answered Miss Ferret. " Look 
 out, Six Roger, it is black as soot. I think you 
 will have to answer to Mrs. Gresham for her 
 husband's life if you let him go home to-night." 
 
 Sir Roger was in the highest state of good 
 humour, and seizing directly on the hospitable
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 37 
 
 hint, declared that neither of his guests should 
 " stir a foot." Lady Goodman, ever ready to 
 second a kind feeling, praised the merits of a 
 well-aired bed to each of the gentlemen. Miss 
 Ferret knew that Mr. Gresham would refuse to 
 stay, which he did, alleging that Mrs. Gresham 
 would be uneasv were he not to return, and she 
 wished, as well as thought, that Mr. Hartland 
 would remain if invited ; in which speculation, 
 accordingly, she was also right, and seeing him 
 hesitate, she ran towards the bell, saying, " I 
 assure you it would be folly to attempt riding 
 home; there is no necessity at least for Mr. 
 Hartland to break his neck." 
 
 " No," said Sir Roger, laughing heartily ; 
 " though Hartland lives at Henbury, there is no 
 henpecker there yet." 
 
 This sally was met by Miss Ferret with " Ex- 
 cellent, upon my honour ! Lady Goodman, is'nt 
 that the best thing you ever heard ? "Well," 
 added our voluble go-between, " I thought that 
 this would be the end of it, when you gentlemen 
 wedged yourselves into that far window before 
 dinner, and prosed about new moons, full moons,
 
 38 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 and harvest moons, till you wearied the moon 
 to sleep, and now you are left without any lamp 
 in the sky." 
 
 To be brief, Mr. Hartland was easily pre- 
 vailed upon. Mr. Gresham took his departure, 
 and the circle at Colbrook, after partaking of a 
 comfortable old fashioned supper, retired to 
 their apartments. If all secrets must be dis- 
 covered when we set about telling a story, we 
 must reveal the fact that two of the party passed 
 a restless night. How it happened may be thus 
 accounted for. 
 
 Whatever may be thought, and however un- 
 natural it may seem, that a man of forty-two 
 should be visited by those agitations which the 
 young imagine to belong exclusively to their 
 fresh sensibilities, and the hacknied do not be- 
 lieve in at all, it will not appear incredible to 
 those who are accustomed to look into the 
 human heart with a philosophic eye, if we assert 
 that Mr. Hartland's spirits were thrown into 
 considerable flutter by the events of the past day. 
 
 Since his accession to an unexpected fortune 
 he had heard many hints thrown out, both at
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 39 
 
 home and abroad, upon the propriety of his 
 " settling in life ;" and any thing often repeated 
 will produce impression. How much more then 
 a matter of such importance as matrimony ! His 
 old nurse used now to shake her head and say, 
 " Ah ! Sir, since my poor Missess is gone you 
 looks quite lonesome." The tenants who came 
 to visit their new landlord, as they drank his 
 health, always tacked a good wife as the climax 
 of their wishes for his prosperity ; and he was 
 assailed by all the old women of the parish, 
 gentle and simple, with some allusion to his 
 single state. The words old bachelor began to 
 fret and gall him in a manner entirely unwonted. 
 It was no wonder then, perhaps, that with a 
 mind thus pre-disposed, the machinations of 
 Miss Ferrett found the soil prepared and ready 
 to aid their purpose. Several circumstances of 
 the evening rose in a sort of pleasing phantas- 
 magoria on Mr. Hartland's recollection. He 
 thought Miss Robinson very agreeable and gen- 
 teel, neither too young nor too old, lively with- 
 out being all on wires, like Miss Ferrett, quiet
 
 40 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 without being dull like some of the young ladies 
 whom he had seen in the neighbourhood. As 
 he continued to commune with his pillow, se- 
 veral obliging sentiments expressed towards him 
 by Miss Robinson recurred to memory, and just 
 as he at length fell off in a doze, the faint remi- 
 niscence of something concerning the funds 
 glided in shadowy vision across his brain. 
 
 Miss Robinson had waking dreams the while 
 of Mr. Hartland. She was five and thirty ; he 
 was of suitable age; she had five thousand 
 pounds ; a small provision to live upon in the 
 decline of one's days, yet a snug little dower too, 
 if well bestowed and carefully settled. Mr. 
 Hardand's complexion was fine, his teeth su- 
 perb, and his general air that of a very comely 
 person. Altogether, Miss Robinson thought 
 that she had not seen for a long time any one 
 more amiable in appearance. Then he lost his 
 money with such a good grace as promised well 
 for domestic concord, and as she fell asleep the 
 last words which she remembered were those of 
 the not too refined Miss Ferret, when she wished
 
 WHO IS SHE? 41 
 
 good-night at her chamber-door. " Take him, 
 my dear, if you can catch him ; depend upon it 
 you may go farther and fare worse." 
 
 Aurora unbarred the East with her rosy fin- 
 gers, and sent a flood of golden sunshine over 
 the fields. Nothing is so cheering to the heart 
 of man as fine weather, and though Samuel 
 Johnson, of lexicographical memory, doubted 
 the fact, we honestly believe that few inhabitants 
 of this terrestrial ball are altogether uninflu- 
 enced by clear air and a fine day. 
 
 A ride to Henbury was proposed, accepted, 
 and arranged. Mr. Hartland's groom was sent 
 forward to proclaim approach, and a quartetto, 
 composed of the lovers (for such we may venture 
 already to call them), Sir Roger and Miss Fer- 
 ret followed quickly after. A narrow part of 
 the road soon afforded opportunity, of which 
 advantage was taken, and a double tete-a-tete 
 was the order of the cavalcade, till the gates 
 of Henbury flew open to receive the visitors. 
 The cork-tree, and every other tree, plant, 
 herb, and flower, was duly displayed and ap- 
 preciated. The interior was also pronounced
 
 42 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 to be without a fault, and so complacently did 
 the party feel towards each other, that Mr. 
 Hartland, who thought himself bound as a true 
 Knight to escort his fair guests half way back, 
 was induced to go the other half through pure 
 charity towards Sir Roger, who gave so many 
 solid reasons for wishing to enjoy society while 
 rheumatism would permit, that his neighbour, 
 to say nothing of politeness, would have deemed 
 it unchristian to refuse. So at Colbrook he 
 dined again ; again lost at whist, and again, de- 
 serted by the " conscious moon," ruminated on 
 his pillow concerning the charms of Miss Ro- 
 binson's person, mind, and manners. 
 
 Dull people must be told every tittle of a tale ; 
 but a lively reader, for whom alone we would 
 fain weave the storied web, will anticipate re- 
 sults, and spare us the details of a courtship, 
 brief as it was, which had its rise, progress, and 
 conclusion in three short weeks ; terminating a 
 few days before the appointed period of Miss 
 Robinson's visit to Sir Roger and Lady Good- 
 man, in the regular proposals of Mr. Hartland 
 of Henbury Lodge, to that young lady.
 
 WHO IS SHE? 43 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 n I will dance and eat plums at your wedding." 
 
 Shakspeark. 
 
 It is said somewhere in the Spectator, that 
 " a woman seldom asks advice before she buys 
 her wedding clothes." Now Miss Robinson 
 neither asked advice before nor after ; for, being 
 an orphan, and of full age, there was no neces- 
 sity to go through any such ceremony; she 
 therefore decided for herself, that having no 
 aversion in the abstract towards the holy state of 
 wedlock, she could not make a particular sacri- 
 fice of that liberty which she had not, perhaps, 
 found such a panacea for all the evils of life as 
 Poets and Romancers teach, in a better cause 
 than the present. Mr. Hartland was every thing 
 which a reasonable woman could desire in a 
 spouse, and accordingly his suit was not rejected.
 
 44 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 No projected alliance ever gave more general 
 satisfaction ; and not a single dissentient voice 
 was raised against its prosperous completion, 
 except that of Mrs. Bunn, the house-keeper at 
 Henbury, who, in common with all persons hold- 
 ing the same situation under a bachelor's roof, 
 never could abide the bare idea of " the Mas- 
 ter's " marriage, even though it were to a Du- 
 chess in her own right. 
 
 On the first day, when Trotter the groom 
 rode on with orders to have the best of every 
 thing prepared for luncheon, and the gardener 
 was desired to bring in the finest fruit that could 
 be had, Mrs. Bunn augured ill of the message, 
 which she considered symptomatic ; but when it 
 came to her being called upon for a fresh supply 
 of linen, and informed moreover that Mr. Hart- 
 land was going back to Colbrook, her heart, as 
 she expressed it, " died within her ; " and not 
 being able to find the hartshorn-bottle in a mo- 
 ment of such flurry, she is said to have had 
 recourse to brandy, so completely were her 
 spirits subdued by the prospect too fatally re- 
 alized of a finished reign. To abdicate was
 
 WHO IS SHE? 45 
 
 preferable, however, to being deposed; and 
 when Mrs. Bunn's agitation subsided, she came 
 to that conclusion, resolving to avoid the dis- 
 grace of a dismissal, and by resigning the seals 
 of office, while affairs of higher interest occu- 
 pied the mind of our Benedict, prevent too 
 keen a scrutiny into past conduct. Thus ended 
 the dynasty of Bunn ; and we must forgive her 
 for casting " a lingering look behind/* as she 
 quitted the " flesh pots of Henbury, for which 
 she seemed to have as decided a taste as ever 
 Sancho discovered. 
 
 With this single exception, as has been ob- 
 served, all was smooth assent; and great was 
 the sensation produced through town and coun- 
 try, when Miss Ferrett, cantering her poney at 
 a quicker gait than usual, suddenly drew up 
 opposite to the post-office door, and communi- 
 cated to an expectant group of some four or 
 five quidnuncs who were waiting the arrival of 
 the coach, that " every thing was settled." 
 She was in her element ; and in such a state 
 of stimulus that she could scarcely controul the 
 effervescence of her spirits. Finishing her pro-
 
 46 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 clamation with " God save the King," she 
 pushed forward to cry another " O yes ! " at 
 the milliner's and the apothecary's ; after which 
 she hastened home to set in movement sundry 
 preparations in furtherance of the great event, 
 which, with better foundation than is common 
 in general to swelling pretensions, she justly 
 considered as all " her own doing." We are 
 usually partial to whatever owes its existence to 
 ourselves, and therefore Miss Ferret's excite- 
 ment was nothing extraordinary, and may be 
 excused. 
 
 Our readers are by this time sufficiently ac- 
 quainted with the carte du pays of Colbrook 
 within and Colbrook without, to know in what 
 part of the newspaper to look for the registry of 
 a wedding conducted under the auspices of its 
 goodly possessors and their auxiliaries. The 
 sagacious and informed will not expect a de- 
 tached paragraph, exhibiting such a host of 
 Lords and Ladies that the happy pair are 
 scarcely distinguishable in the brilliant mob; 
 and which, were it not for the heading of 
 " Marriage in High Life," might be mistaken
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 47 
 
 for the list of arrivals at a London hotel ; but 
 the announcement of our nuptial rites will be 
 sought, and found in that column, which, at one 
 comprehensive view, presents a picture of hu- 
 man life, and directs the moral eye from the 
 cradle to the grave. 
 
 We must not anticipate, however ; for much 
 is to be done before the printer sets his types 
 to the titles of Francis Hartland, Esq. of Hen- 
 bury-lodge, and Harriet, eldest daughter of a 
 goodly "Squire, John Robinson by name, and 
 gentleman by degree. Lady Goodman wrote 
 to her friend Mrs. Palmer, to send patterns of 
 all sorts from town ; while Sir Roger, who was 
 as much delighted as Miss Ferret with the 
 coming event, set to work with Mr. Points, the 
 Solicitor, who rode off post haste to Colbrook 
 at three several times, as if he was an express ; 
 and when arrived, bustled into the breakfast- 
 parlour (for there was no library, there being 
 no readers at Colbrook,) with such stir and im- 
 portance, and made notes of the intended set- 
 tlement with such pompous solemnity, that an 
 inhabitant of another planet, suddenly intro-
 
 48 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 duced to the scene, might be fully borne out in 
 the supposition, that our "special" was em- 
 ployed in taking depositions against a state pri- 
 soner, chargeable, at the very least, with design 
 to overset the Constitution and compass the 
 death of our beloved Sovereign. 
 
 Let it not be imagined that Miss Ferret's was 
 a sinecure office, during this season of occupa- 
 tion. On the contrary, her dwelling in the 
 market-place might be styled the very centre, 
 heart, or focus, of these interesting proceedings. 
 Her drawing room was the place of congress for 
 dress-makers, stay-makers, shoe- makers, and plain 
 workers, while her bed-chamber was the reposi- 
 tory of boxes and bundles without end or mea- 
 sure, from town and country. These same 
 apartments were likewise the scene of all the 
 putting off, and trying on : the fault-finding and 
 approval; the lively criticism on shapes and 
 colours ; fashionable and unfashionable, be- 
 coming and unbecoming, which naturally be- 
 longs most peculiarly to that period of grand 
 climacteric in a lady's wardrobe, which Miss 
 Robinson's was now to undergo ; not to mention
 
 WHO IS SHE? 49 
 
 that Henbury Lodge, being out of the mail- 
 coach line, Miss Ferret's abode was, moreover, 
 a bank of deposit for innumerable and cumber- 
 some packages from tailors, hatters, hosiers, 
 " et hoc genus" &c. insomuch that the pains- 
 taking partisan, to whose official exertions this 
 chapter is principally indebted for its subject, 
 might be justly compared to the supple animal 
 whose name she bore, when, with all its prying 
 energies elate, and with persevering industry 
 prosecuting its vocation in the bowels of the 
 earth, the light crumbling soil falls in on every 
 side, and incloses the ferret's slender form, over- 
 whelmed in the destruction which itself had 
 worked. But as it is not requisite to the appo- 
 siteness of a simile that the analogy should agree 
 in all its parts, we are happy to think that our 
 Ferret had well grounded prospect of outliving 
 her temporary sepulture, and hailing the bright 
 beam of Hymen's torch to guide her through 
 the lumbering piles of paper parcels by which 
 she was almost suffocated ; though it must on 
 the other hand be confessed that, after she had 
 leisure to reflect in the still hour of retirement 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 on that busy crisis, she has been frequently 
 heard to say, that nothing short of the most 
 devoted friendship could possibly have sus- 
 tained her ; and in after times Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hartland were often reminded of all they owed 
 to her unwearied zeal. 
 
 As Miss Ferret studied the portable in all 
 things, her wisdom was condensed in aphorisms, 
 amongst which, " there is a time for all things," 
 instructed her to choose the period of Christmas 
 more especially for stirring up the memory, and 
 the gratitude of her friends, when a plenitude 
 of game, mince-pies, spiced meats, bottled ale, 
 and other seasonable reflections, furnished fes- 
 tive opportunity of lightening a burthen on the 
 heart, by reciprocating obligations on the sto- 
 mach. " Turn about is fair play," was another 
 maxim which lent its aid on these occasions. 
 
 At length matters appeared to be winding up 
 to a point : Miss Robinson's paraphernalia, after 
 due exhibition, and the sly purloining of many 
 a useful hint, snatched hastily with scissars and 
 brown paper, from collar, cape, and cuffs, was 
 all sent home : and Mr. Points witnessed the
 
 WHO IS SHE? 51 
 
 due execution of the marriage articles at Col- 
 brook, where Sir Roger and Lady Goodman 
 had from the first signified their wishes that the 
 approaching solemnity should be performed. The 
 only hitch which arose, (just enough to prove 
 that every human scheme is less than perfect,) 
 occurred in the impossibility of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Gordon's attendance on the auspicious cere- 
 mony. Mrs. Gordon was younger sister to 
 Miss Robinson, and lived in Aberdeenshire, but 
 indisposition would not permit her to leave home, 
 and her husband would not go without her ; so 
 it was ordained that Sir Roger, in quality of 
 guardian, should perform the father's part, and 
 that the bride and bridegroom should make a 
 visit to their relations in Scotland, before they 
 sat down for life at Henbury Lodge. 
 
 These matters being adjusted, it only re- 
 mained to fix the day and the hour for our 
 espousals, which was accordingly done, and now 
 succeeded cares of no less magnitude. 
 
 It has been hinted that Sir Roger Goodman's 
 mansion was larger than his means of living in 
 it. Space, indeed, was the first idea by which a 
 d 2 
 
 ^ 
 
 ttJU^
 
 52 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 stranger was struck on entering the doors ; for 
 the fact was, that besides the really capacious 
 dimensions of each apartment, there was such 
 a dearth of furniture, that the eye was not in- 
 terrupted in its progress as it travelled over 
 them. Four walls, handsomely pannelled with 
 carved work of green and gold, enclosed an 
 area, which was called the billiard-room, with 
 no other apparent object than that of exciting 
 attention, to remark that not a sign of table, 
 mace, or ball, was to be seen. In like manner 
 the place of a saloon was to be found with 
 nothing in it, and a chapel without provision 
 for prayers. The " state" bed-chambers were 
 reserved for such momentous purposes that they 
 were never used at all, and therefore beds were 
 superfluous ; so they had not any in them. 
 
 From this outline it follows that the disposable 
 forces of hospitality were confined at Colbrook 
 within very straightened limits, notwithstanding 
 the large size of the building ; and an entertain- 
 ment in this mausoleum of ancient grandeur, 
 like a poem which we remember to have seen 
 somewhere or other, in imitation of Ossian,
 
 WHO IS SHE? 53 
 
 might very appropriately be 'yclept a " feast of 
 empty shells." Miss Ferret, however, under- 
 took the arrangements under the controlling di- 
 rection of Lady Goodman, and began her ope- 
 rations with the encouraging cheer, " Faint heart 
 never won fair Lady. We must put our best 
 foot foremost." 
 
 To work she set, and what with rummaging 
 out, scrubbing up, turning, twisting, nailing, 
 scouring, dying, and borrowing, things were 
 put in some sort of order, and accommodation 
 provided for a numerous company at breakfast. 
 It was the custom of Lady Goodman's day, for 
 the bride and bridegroom to sit in full dress 
 during a week, and receive congratulations from 
 all the neighbouring gentry : and sorely did she 
 regret the impossibility of reviving so venerable 
 a pageant on the present happy occasion ; but 
 there was no option, and fortunately the fashion 
 of setting out in a chaise and four, relieved her 
 from the mortification of confessing that the fes- 
 tivities of a hymeneal scene could not be pro- 
 tracted under her roof beyond the cake-cutting 
 hour.
 
 54. TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 The waste suites of unfurnished apartments 
 were decked out with green branches, and 
 flowers disposed in arches and alcoves, so that 
 Miss Ferret converted the whole house into one 
 mighty bower. She rooted out some old moth- 
 eaten banners, which were kept as an heir-loom 
 in the attic story, where, reposing under lock 
 and key, they bore mouldering testimony to the 
 ancestral valour of Sir Roger's blood; also a 
 stand of colours which had been presented to 
 his father, who raised a regiment of Yeomanry ; 
 some Free-Masonry insignia, which glittered 
 with embroidery of tarnished gold and silver; 
 elks' horns, which had been sent as a curiosity ; 
 two American bows ; a pair of snow shoes ; some 
 halberts, and a trumpet which were taken in 
 the rebellion of forty-five, with other articles 
 which had not seen the light for years, but now 
 came forward, however incongruously, to vary 
 the sylvan decorations, and were judiciously 
 commingled with family portraits in massive 
 frames; an ivory ship, which, covered with a 
 glass bell, made a great figure ; a canoe ; two 
 plaster-of-paris cupids ; a leaden fawn ; Harle-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 55 
 
 quin and Columbine; Neptune and Hebe of 
 the same material, and King William on horse- 
 back, well executed in bronze ; so as altogether 
 to produce an imposing and animated effect 
 along a vista of the entire front, including cor- 
 ridors, and enliven the " eternal shade " which 
 would otherwise have resulted from the great 
 quantity of laurel, spruce, fir, and other ever- 
 greens forced into company to fill the void. 
 
 Poor Lady Goodman, who knew better 
 things than this ignorant medley exhibited, 
 sighed as she acquiesced in all Miss Ferret's 
 manifestations of taste, which would have been 
 better suited to the preparations for enacting a 
 puppet-shew in a country barn, than the embel- 
 lishment of a fine feudal palace of the olden 
 time, inhabited by those who boasted armorial 
 bearings and descent from the brave and fair of 
 other days. There was no help for it, however. 
 It was Hobson's choice, and no alternative pre- 
 sented itself, were Miss Ferret's suggestions 
 repressed, except absolute vacuity. Now Lady 
 Goodman loved Miss Robinson affectionately, 
 and could not endure to appear deficient in
 
 56 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 friendship, while her excellent heart overflowed 
 with kindness. She therefore preferred giving 
 free scope to the fantastical vagaries of a merry- 
 andrew, to seeming less than she really was, to 
 Sir Roger's ward, and her own protegee. 
 
 It was in the servant and equipage depart- 
 ment, that the greatest difficulties arose. A so- 
 litary domestic, styled butler, but who exercised 
 no dominion, for the best reason, namely, that 
 he had no subjects, was the sole attendant at 
 Colbrook. Dressed in a suit of snuff-coloured 
 clothes which had once been black, he answered 
 the hall-door bell. In jacket of fustian, with 
 turned up sleeves, he might next be seen, clean- 
 ing knives and forks ; or should 
 
 the earlier season lead 
 
 To the tanned haycock in the mead," 
 
 you might again behold this worthy jack-of-all- 
 trades, armed with rake and pitch-fork, tossing 
 high and wide the meadow's fragrant crop. An 
 old coachman, who performed as many parts in 
 the stable as old Hasty did within the house, 
 completed the male part of the establishment, 
 and his rusty livery and antique wig were in per-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 57 
 
 feet keeping with the heavy machine which it was 
 his lot to guide, and the ancient pair of roan 
 Barbarys which drew it. " What a turn-out for 
 a wedding ! " exclaimed Miss Ferret, as she 
 gazed upon the carriage which was to appear 
 on the following day first in the bridal proces- 
 sion. 
 
 " My dear Lady Goodman, I am ready to 
 sink at the idea of such a tub being drawn up 
 at your door, and really know not what to do. 
 So few servants too ! — it is quite confounding on 
 such an occasion." 
 
 " My dear," replied Lady Goodman, " we 
 must make the best of it. Your genius has done 
 much, but you cannot make our old coach any 
 other than it is. It is vain to fret yourself about 
 what admits of no remedy." 
 
 " I cannot change, but I will manage yet to 
 conceal it," answered Miss Ferret, who flitted 
 off to give her directions and arrange her mea- 
 sures for the morning, which was ushered in by 
 a brilliant dawn. 
 
 No sooner was the sun above the horizon, 
 than our fair field marshal persuaded Sir Roger 
 
 d 5
 
 58 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 that he should go on to church, and be ready- 
 to hand the bride elect from her carriage, add- 
 ing, that she hoped he would not lose a moment 
 in sending back his own to accommodate some 
 of the rest of the party. Though Sir Roger did 
 not see any reason for what he was desired to 
 do, and had no mind to sit by himself in the 
 vestry-room for such a length of time as was 
 contemplated by Miss Ferret, yet she was so 
 urgent, that she gave him no time for delibera- 
 tion, and half pushing, half entreating, had him 
 fairly shut up in the coach and whirled with un- 
 accustomed celerity from the doer, before he had 
 power to recollect that he should inevitably have 
 a fit of the rheumatism in consequence of so 
 long a sitting in a draught of air, much cooler 
 than that of his own house. But David, who 
 was perched up on high upon an immense old- 
 fashioned hammer-cloth, large enough to bear 
 the city arms on every side, like the lord 
 mayor's equipage, received strict orders not to 
 hear if his master called, but proceed, blow high, 
 blow low, to Weston church. Now he argued, 
 that as weddings do not occur every day, and
 
 WHO IS SHE? 59 
 
 Miss Ferret was chief governor on the present 
 occasion, it might be better to obey her impli- 
 citly. Besides he was in the habit of turning a 
 deaf ear to the word " stop, " as having no foot- 
 man except on great emergencies, when Hasty 
 the butler stepped up behind, he knew that his 
 porpoise-like body must be put in movement 
 were he to indulge every whim of halting here 
 and there ; and a descent from the altitude at 
 which David sat was no trifling exertion to a 
 man " so scant of breath " as he was. He grum- 
 bled, indeed, sotto voce, at not "heading the 
 procession," as he said; but Miss Ferret as- 
 sured him that though she had an offer of all 
 the carriages to marshal in whatever manner 
 she thought proper, she would not suffer Sir 
 Roger to be driven in any vehicle but his own, 
 or by any less careful charioteer than his coach- 
 man. She likewise informed David that on 
 account of the honour which she designed him 
 of enacting avant courier on the occasion, she 
 had made his wedding favours twice as large as 
 those of any body else, which was true, for she 
 used three yards of extraordinary white satin
 
 60 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 ribbon with silver edges, in this instance to cover 
 certain defects in David's hat and coat. 
 
 This argument prevailed, insomuch that he 
 took his seat aloft with much self-complacency, 
 and from the prodigious breadth of his chest, 
 and the monstrous size of the star-like platforms 
 which Miss Ferret pinned upon it, quite as 
 large as the sod in a thrush's cage, David looked 
 at a little distance, so like a target, that had the 
 archers been out, he might have received an 
 arrow through the heart, before he could have 
 had time to bless himself. He was next com- 
 missioned to return from Weston by a circuit- 
 ous route, the pretext for which was to deliver 
 a message at the house of a work-woman who 
 had not brought home all Miss Robinson's 
 linen, but the real object of which was to delay 
 the carriage till all the party should have pro- 
 ceeded, and so avoid the display of that unwieldy 
 concern amongst the gay chariots and landaus 
 of the neighbouring gentry, several of whom 
 graced our hymeneals with their presence. Miss 
 Ferret then took occasion, when the company
 
 WHO IS SHE? 61 
 
 were all assembled on the steps just ready for 
 departure, to say aloud to Lady Goodman, 
 " Upon my word, your ladyship has left us 
 this morning without a single servant to do any 
 thing. Two gone on with Sir Roger ; one de- 
 spatched to order post horses, as if a note would 
 not have been sufficient ; and there is Barnett 
 who has already drunk so many healths to this 
 happy event, that he was not able to stand 
 straight, so I have sent him off to bed." 
 
 So saying, she bustled and fidgeted about till 
 by one contrivance or other, she got the whole 
 train in motion, and contrived to bring them 
 all back again, without giving any one leisure to 
 remark how or by which way they returned to 
 Colbrook, where a beautiful breakfast awaited 
 them. 
 
 What with cutting cake, sticking pins, wrap- 
 ping, and directing parcels, with compliments 
 from Mrs. Hartland, and sealing packets of 
 white gloves, while the gentlemen strolled 
 through the beautiful, but neglected demesne of 
 Colbrook, Time flew on more rapid wing than 
 he is used to plume upon a wedding-day in the
 
 62 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 country, till a " trim-built " travelling carriage 
 , with trunks, cap-case, and imperial, drove up to 
 the door. Sir Roger handed in the bride, who 
 was followed by her Caro and a shower of con- 
 gratulations ; and off wheeled the nouveaux 
 Maries towards Drumcairn, the romantic abode 
 in Aberdeenshire of Mr. and Mrs. Gordon. 
 Part of the company left Colbrook immediately 
 after, while a select assembly was retained to 
 dine and drink a bumper toast to the health 
 and happiness of Henbury Lodge. 
 
 Here again Miss Ferret's talents were felt, if 
 not acknowledged, and perhaps her chief ability 
 lay in the circumstance, that while dulness and 
 ceremony, which are the bane of English society 
 vanished before her, she wisely took especial 
 care to seem no more than a useful instrument 
 in the hands of others, though in reality she 
 was the governing principle of all that ease and 
 hilarity which her presence inspired. Miss Fer- 
 ret might be compared to an able mechanic 
 who, discovering the causes of inertion in what- 
 ever piece of workmanship is submitted to his 
 inspection, clears away rust, removes impedi-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 63 
 
 ments, rectifies the balance, oils the joints, and 
 sets every spring into active play, without pre- 
 suming to claim any merit in the contrivance 
 that should interfere with the patentee. Had 
 she not possessed such perfect tact, (which is a 
 quality much more dependent on quick natural 
 perception than the refinements of education,) 
 that she always gave other people that credit 
 which she deserved herself, she would soon have 
 been taught to feel her inferiority; but she 
 never was suspected, and people thought that 
 they were particularly well, cheerful, and agree- 
 able without supposing for an instant that they 
 were indebted to her influence. She was by 
 nature all that Lord Chesterfield vainly en- 
 deavoured to make his son by art, and knew 
 that the whole secret of popularity consists in 
 putting every one into good humour with him- 
 self. 
 
 The dinner was abundant, and its deficiency 
 in setting off was but little observed where all the 
 guests were kindly disposed. In fact that paltry 
 criticism which is the terror and scourge of a 
 country neighbourhood, is much oftener the
 
 64 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 offspring of stupor than malevolence. Keep a 
 company alive, and they will seldom be able to 
 tell whether your damask is of Scotch or Ham- 
 burgh manufacture, your china, Indian or Wor- 
 cester, your glass, cut or plain. People only ask 
 to be happy, and how this is accomplished is 
 never enquired into; but if tongues are not 
 employed eyes will be busy. Miss Ferret was 
 aware of this, and her vigilance was unremitting. 
 The boldest stroke, and one at which Sir Roger's 
 mind at first revolted, succeeded to admiration, 
 and green gooseberry wine in long necked bot- 
 tles passed muster for sparkling champagne. 
 
 The trick had been played at a great race 
 dinner, and Miss Ferret's convincing argument 
 for making an experiment of a like nature at 
 Colbrook, was contained in the following laconi- 
 cism, "what has been, may be." Sir Roger 
 succumbed, and no one detected the fraud. 
 " Depend upon it," said Miss Ferret, " that 
 all the French wines are made at home, and 
 you are no greater cheat than your wine mer- 
 chant." 
 
 The young danced, the elders played whist,
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 65 
 
 carriages were heard rolling in the court, the 
 party dispersed, and as all things must, sooner 
 or later, come to a conclusion, thus ended the 
 wedding-day, and Miss Ferret had laid the plan 
 of another ere the sun was set.
 
 66 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " -What now remains 
 
 But that once more we tempt the wat'ry plains, 
 And wandering homewards, seek our safety hence." 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Amongst the many contested questions which 
 perplex conversation, and seem destined to re- 
 main undecided, is comparison between the sum 
 of happiness derivable by those who are easily 
 pleased, from frequently recurring and com- 
 monly procurable resources, and that resulting 
 from the seldom tasted but vivid raptures of the 
 fastidious, who, too refined for average gratifica- 
 tion, find life a desert, in which, like " angel 
 visits few and long between," the thinly scat- 
 tered spangles of verdure glow with intensity of 
 freshness amid surrounding gloom. We con- 
 fess that our own minds suffered vacillation upon
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 67 
 
 this important topic, till, having witnessed the 
 every-day felicity of Henbury Lodge, we were 
 enabled to cast the make- weight of its beau rivant 
 into the scale of " little things." 
 
 As a flat road, however, admits of quick driv- 
 ing, we shall not detain the reader unmercifully 
 in describing a scene which presented no altera- 
 tions of light and shade, no moral vicissitudes of 
 hill and dale, to vary the landscape ; but satisfy 
 ourselves with a short sketch of connubial con- 
 tentment in a welcome-home to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hartland, who after a brief aberration from their 
 domestic settlement, returned to the delights of 
 clipped hedges, rolled terrace, and trim bowers. 
 
 It may be remembered that our wedded pair 
 had each passed the term when people of both 
 sexes in the presumption of life's springtide, 
 talk of marriage as a common event which 
 " comes to all ; " and toss their fortunes to and 
 fro, with lavish prodigality, altogether unpro- 
 phetic of succeeding dearth. 
 
 This was precisely the case with ci-devant Miss 
 Robinson, who, having rejected a crowd of as- 
 pirants, had begun to feel a chill frost creeping
 
 68 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 over the season of youth, and the joy of seeing 
 herself now prosperously " established" and con- 
 templating a well sized, well furnished mansion, 
 in which she ruled by the style and title of 
 " Mrs. Hartland," produced a degree of self- 
 gratulation proportioned to the fears which had 
 preceded her present elevation. She was a 
 common place, prudent woman, and we must 
 not be too severe on the weaknesses which were 
 we, however, so stupid as not to observe, we 
 should exercise no charity in forgiving. We 
 do confess then, though not in the spirit of ill- 
 nature, that no happiness ever transcended that 
 of our recent matron, when seated in a new 
 post-chaise, the pannels of which were like mir- 
 rors in which you might have shaved yourself, 
 every strap and brace polished to black satin, 
 postilion light and dapper, dressed in a fresh 
 suit of green and silver, horses prancing, sun 
 shining, she took her joyous course along her 
 own smoothly gravelled approach, armed with a 
 ticket-case of carved ivory in her hand, to per- 
 form the first circuit of country visits in return 
 for those which had been unsparingly lavished
 
 WHO IS SHE? 69 
 
 on the late event. Neither did this gladness 
 perish through its vivacity, as is the case with 
 the generality of powerful stimulants, but there 
 was a constantly recurring bliss in the sounds of 
 " My own house, my own carriage, my own ser- 
 vants," &c. which produced new impression at 
 every repetition. 
 
 Mr. Hartland's situation was not less enviable. 
 Having passed all his youthful prime without 
 considering marriage as practicable, he had 
 thought less than any body during early life of 
 changing his condition ; and since he had at- 
 tained competency, and became desirous of 
 uniting himself suitably to a virtuous partner, 
 the difficulties of seeking, finding, choosing, pro- 
 posing, and wedding, rose upon his view like 
 Alps beyond Alps, and presented such a for- 
 midable barrier against hope, that he could not 
 see«how the matter was ever to be undertaken, 
 much less how it would ever come to pass. 
 
 The husband, therefore, was just as much en- 
 chanted as the wife. He felt himself raised in 
 the scale of creation ; he was now a person of 
 more consequence than he had ever been be-
 
 70 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 fore. Then his affections, which had been 
 arrested by his mother's death, and which might 
 be said to have suffered a blockade since that 
 event, were all set flowing again with redoubled 
 tenderness and activity. His former poverty, 
 too, having prevented him from being an object 
 of competition, his vanity had never been ex- 
 cited, and he was a total stranger, in his own 
 person, to those attentions, which, we are sorry 
 to say, are often disgustingly paid to men by the 
 fair sex, when rank or fortune furnishes motive 
 for entrapping them. Mr. Hartland's gratitude, 
 therefore, to Miss Robinson, for having married 
 him, was as sincere as it was unbounded ; and 
 thus this favoured pair were, in the language of 
 the nursery tales of olden time, " as happy as the 
 day is long ;" reminding us of the spider, who 
 spinning her web from her own vitals, "lives along 
 the line" of her own daily occupation ; o* (as 
 we are given to comparison), the Hartlands fre- 
 quently suggested to our memory the Epicurean 
 aspiration of the celebrated Quin, " Oh, that I 
 had a throat half a mile in length, and palate 
 all the way." Now, the moral palate of Hen-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 71 
 
 bury's inhabitants extended to the utmost verge 
 of their possessions ; and they might be said to 
 taste and relish whatever they found in their 
 path. 
 
 They had neither of them seen much of the 
 world, and neither knew any thing of that high 
 and towering intellect, which, like the lofty 
 eagle, quits the level of the plain, and builds its 
 eyrie in an upper world all its own. The Hart- 
 lands had sharp common understandings, good 
 nature, and discretion ; but they rose not above 
 mediocrity, and were of that class whose natural 
 walk is on the earth. They were busy all day 
 long about every thing ; interested alike in the 
 gravest or minutest concerns, and never tortured 
 their brains with any subject of contemplation 
 beyond the reach of sense. Healthful in mind, 
 as well as in body ; gay, and continually em- 
 ployed ; they talked, and walked, and rode, 
 and drove, dined out, and gave dinners at home, 
 and were never weary of themselves, or of the 
 society around them. 
 
 But the cup of existence is never unmixed. 
 If the wormwood leaf float not on its surface, it
 
 72 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 will be found lying at the bottom. Three years 
 glided by. The first was one of such novelty and 
 incessant excitement, that no yawning chasm was 
 seen, felt, or understood ; the second was some- 
 times slightly tinged by anxiety lest the pleasant 
 hedge-rows of Henbury Lodge should one day 
 encircle another race, and stranger feet should 
 press its smiling lawns ; but when a third year 
 closed its barren account with blighted hopes, 
 expectation died away; and though Mr. and 
 Mrs. Hartland were still the envy of the region 
 in which they grew, and were universally de- 
 clared to be worthy of an annual flitch, it was 
 nevertheless remarked, and especially by Miss 
 Ferret, whose penetration stood high in public 
 regard, that " all was not right at Henbury." 
 
 At first her hints conveyed nothing more de- 
 terminate, than was communicated in the adage, 
 " All is not gold that glisters;" but this had the 
 effect of setting those who were less intimate 
 than herself with the friends whose undefined 
 sorrows she zealously published, writhing with 
 curiosity, while her own gained time for such 
 inquisition as should bring her to the true cause
 
 WHO IS SHE? 73 
 
 of that change, the effects of which only her 
 quick eye had as yet discerned. Besides, it was 
 more consonant with Miss Ferret's idea of true 
 friendship to set other wits upon the discovery of 
 any thing disagreeable, should such exist, than 
 directly to proclaim it herself; and therefore 
 every purpose was gained of stimulating the in- 
 dustry of other gossips, while her inuendos, 
 darkly dropped, persuaded the entire vicinage 
 that she knew a great deal more than she chose 
 to reveal, and was only withheld from promul- 
 gating to the full extent of her information, by 
 t; the sincere regard which she entertained for 
 the Hartlands." 
 
 But what is there which a union of talents 
 and diligence will not compass and achieve? 
 Miss Ferret's were soon crowned with success, 
 and happily the cloud that overcast the horizon 
 of H&ibury was of that nature which might be 
 trumpeted to the four corners of the earth (if 
 indeed the round world have such convenient 
 recesses for playing hide and seek), without the 
 violation of those feelings which our busy blab 
 professed for her proteges. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 It was well known throughout the country 
 that both Mr. and Mrs. Hartland were particu- 
 larly partial to children ; so much so, that when- 
 ever they appeared, the fond mothers of the 
 neighbourhood used constantly to ring the nur- 
 sery chimes for their edification or amusement, 
 and many a morning call has been inconve- 
 niently protracted to the visitors, for the pur- 
 pose of "seeing the baby," whose tedious delay 
 after summons issued, and elaborate dress when 
 produced, proved the complete metamorphosis 
 which it had undergone in the interval, before 
 it was considered to be fitly attired for exhibi- 
 tion in the drawing-room. But Miss Ferret, 
 happening to be in company one day when the 
 large family of a neighbouring curate was men- 
 tioned, remarked that Mrs. Hartland, who never 
 gave herself the habit of generalizing in conver- 
 sation, replied rather pensively, "Alaf! how 
 unequally the gifts of Providence are distri- 
 buted !" 
 
 Miss Ferret expressed herself to have felt as 
 if she had been shot when this observation fell 
 from her friend ; and it furnished a clue by
 
 WHO IS SHE? 75 
 
 which the whole labyrinth of her secret thoughts 
 came to be developed. Pursuing the light which 
 now glimmered, Miss Ferret immediately ac- 
 quiesced in the justice of the remark, and pro- 
 ceeded to tell of a gentleman and lady who 
 were the happiest people in the world, " all but 
 having no heirs to their fine estate," and added, 
 " They have been married fully five years, and 
 you may suppose what their feelings are ; for we 
 must acknowledge that it is the most natural 
 thing in the world to wish that one's name 
 should not be cut off; and, as I often say, an 
 extinguisher put over one's grave is enough to 
 lower one's spirits ; for the grave in itself is suf- 
 ficiently gloomy in all conscience, without put- 
 ting an end to the whole stock, who might live a 
 little longer, all at a blow." 
 
 Mrs. Hartland sighed, while a faint colour 
 was observed to glance across her countenance. 
 After a slight pause, she said, as though she had 
 often pondered the subject, " Yes, hope deferred, 
 they say, maketh the heart sick." 
 
 The whole mystery was now unravelled, or 
 as Miss Ferret expressed the same idea in her 
 e 2
 
 76 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 peculiar phraseology, " the cat was out of the 
 bag ;" and it was evident that the Henbury thorn 
 stood revealed, in the childless condition of 
 that house. This point once established, it may 
 be imagined that joy was at its height, on the 
 actual expectation of an event, the delay of 
 which only seemed noiv to the grateful hearts 
 of Mr. and Mrs. Hartland to have been ex- 
 pressly ordained for the purpose of enhancing 
 its value. How readily we acknowledge the 
 providence of divine interposition when we are 
 pleased ! 
 
 But we cannot stop to moralize, it is our duty 
 to recount ; and if we could bring our minds into 
 full sympathy with those whose history we are 
 narrating, there are few subjects of sufficient 
 importance to alienate attention from the theme 
 of our present consideration. The dread of 
 disappointment rendered Mrs. Hartland very 
 cautious in divulging her hopes ; but at length 
 prospects of the most gratifying nature opened 
 to her view, and Miss Ferret received permis- 
 sion to diffuse tidings which appeared to tell the 
 acme of human felicity. Doctors and apothe-
 
 77 
 
 caries, nurses and nurse- tenders, frocks, pinna- 
 fores, cradles, and caps, tops and bottoms, goats' 
 whey, rennet- whey, asses'-milk, cows'-milk, and 
 a thousand other appliances equally interesting 
 of this important season, which was now un- 
 equivocally approaching, absorbed the thoughts, 
 and occupied the conversation at Henbury. Mrs. 
 Hartland reclined upon a sofa, and issued her 
 orders from thence through the faithful Ferret, 
 with as much pomp and ceremony as ever hung 
 upon the Ottoman Divan ; while Mr. Hart- 
 land's anxious office was to forestal the news- 
 papers, seize upon the letter-bag, and prepare 
 every visitor by regular instruction upon the 
 topics of their discourse, lest the slightest im- 
 prudence in communicating the current ru- 
 mours of the clay, might disturb the nervous 
 system of his wife. 
 
 To this end, he generally took his station in 
 an anti-room in which a sort of probationary no- 
 viciate was performed, and people, after being 
 examined, admonished, and duly qualified, re- 
 ceived admission tickets to the presence chamber. 
 
 As the fulness of time advanced, several
 
 78 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 weighty consultations were held, which called 
 forth every power of taste and understanding 
 which the Hartlands possessed, to meet the op- 
 posite arguments which were propounded in 
 them. Two debates of longer and more diffi- 
 cult deliberation than all preceding, were how- 
 ever happily adjusted to the entire satisfaction 
 of the parties, and the perfect reconcilement of 
 contending opinions. In one of these it was 
 decreed that if a son were to bless the parent 
 eyes, he should be christened Algernon Robin- 
 son ; and if the soft smiles of a daughter were 
 destined to awaken love, rather than ambition, 
 Melasma was to be her name. Mr. Hartland's 
 father had unfortunately been called Peter, 
 Mrs. Hartland's progenitor Jacob; and the 
 reader will admit that two more impracticable 
 appellations were never unluckily brought to- 
 gether to perplex the counsels of a pair who 
 were looking forward with eager raptures to the 
 baptismal font, and habitually impressed at the 
 same time, with the propriety of sending family 
 echoes to the latest posterity. 
 
 How to harmonize sounds without compro-
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 79 
 
 mising respect was the question, and no small 
 exertion of skill did it require to balance the 
 pros and cons. Many cogent reasons were 
 urged by Sir Roger and Lady Goodman for 
 the regular descent of Peter, Jacob, or both ; 
 while a hint, which gave a climax to perplexity 
 was thrown out by the latter, who said that she 
 should not think the addition of her worthy 
 husband's name an unnatural appendage by way 
 of compliment to him. Mrs. Hartland's rest 
 was broken by this harassing choice of evils. 
 At last she resolved on bursting her fetters, and 
 declared the bold resolve to waive precedent, 
 and not in compliance with an antiquated pre- 
 judice, entail on future generations the quaint 
 appellations, which she determined to sacrifice 
 to what she considered the true interests of her 
 son. 
 
 " The junction of sur-names," said she, " may 
 appease the shades of his dead grandfathers, 
 and Goodman may bring up the rear. Whether 
 boy or girl, the only sounds which need be ut- 
 tered shall delight the ear, and all the rest may
 
 80 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 be smuggled away under initial letters. I am 
 resolved on Algernon or Melasma." 
 
 Mr. Hartland was in the habit of acquiescing 
 in the decrees of his better half: and remem- 
 bered how pleasantly his favourite Sterne has de- 
 clared that a man who might have made a flou- 
 rishing figure in the world as an Alexander 
 misjht be Nicodemus'd into nothing. He there- 
 fore gave his assent and consent to Algernon for 
 the male sex, Melasma for the female, and the 
 debate was at an end. 
 
 The second dispute of magnitude which was 
 settled about the same time, related to sponsors. 
 Mr. Hartland belonged to a noble house, and 
 the Earl of Marchdale, who held a high office 
 under government, was his first cousin. Those 
 who know any thing of the wrnld, are aware 
 that consanguinity to great men, unless in the 
 nearest degrees, is more frequently a disadvan- 
 tage than the contrary. A brother cannot be 
 left in obscurity, and perhaps a nephew may 
 have some chance of preferment, but cousins are 
 generally shaken off and made to know their
 
 WHO IS SHE? 81 
 
 distance. Mr. Hartland's mother had once 
 made an effort to seek for her son the counte- 
 nance and protection of his noble relative, but 
 received such peremptory repulse that a second 
 experiment was never hazarded. 
 
 Times however were changed, and circum- 
 stances altered likewise. It had reached Lord 
 March dale's ears that Mr. Hartland was no 
 longer a poor man ; and curiosity prompted 
 him to ask where the newly acquired property 
 of his kinsman was situated, which led to infor- 
 mation that it lay in a certain county where he 
 wished to increase his influence. Something 
 a kin to shame at the recollection of former 
 rough treatment exerted towards his relation, 
 withheld his Lordship from offering his congra- 
 tulations on an accession of fortune which might 
 immediately suggest a remembrance of his former 
 unkindness ; but he formed the benevolent de- 
 sign of seizing on the first convenient opportu- 
 nity for some token of conciliatory recognition 
 of his cousin. Mr. Hartland 's marriage would 
 have afforded an auspicious occasion, but un- 
 luckily Lord Marchdale was making a tour on 
 e5
 
 82 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 the Continent when that event took place, and 
 to have written an epithalamium after his re- 
 turn, might not have had the desired effect. 
 
 " I should not have thanked any one for 
 wishing me joy on my nuptials, six months after 
 date," thought his Lordship ; and acting in this 
 instance by the rule of doing to others, as he 
 desired others should do towards him, he waited 
 — and waited not in vain. Actuated by the 
 motives to which we have alluded, to make 
 more minute inquisition into the affairs of his 
 uncle's only son than had been his wont, he 
 became acquainted with the bright hopes which, 
 like a morning in Spring, were breaking over 
 the destiny of one whose prosperity promised 
 now to transcend his own, for he was childless. 
 Lord Marchdale therefore lost no more time, 
 but hastened on receiving the intelligence to 
 write the following epistle : 
 
 " Dear Frank, 
 
 " I am not one of those who advocate the 
 perpetuation of family feuds. Your poor father 
 and mine never agreed, but that is no reason
 
 WHO IS SHE? 83 
 
 why you and I should feel any hostility towards 
 each other, though I fear that appearances are 
 against me. My utter inability to serve you, 
 when Mrs. Hartland applied to me in your be- 
 half, having formerly obliged me reluctantly to 
 disappoint her wishes, I learn now, with sin- 
 cere satisfaction, that you no longer stand in 
 need of aid, but are enabled proudly to raise 
 your head amongst England's best protectors, 
 her resident country gentlemen. I hear also 
 the interesting news, that your happiness is 
 likely to experience increase through an unex- 
 pected event ; and am desirous that the young 
 stranger should be a bond of re-union between 
 us. If a boy, I wish that you may name him 
 Algernon ; and represent me at his baptism as 
 godfather. If Mrs. Hartland should present 
 you with a daughter, Lady Marchdale requests 
 me to announce her disposition to stand spon- 
 sor. Believe me, dear Frank, 
 
 " Very truly yours, Marchdale." 
 
 The familiar style of this letter did not im- 
 pose on Mr. Hartland, who saw through the
 
 84 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 kindliness of its contents ; but it was agreed in 
 full conclave, that it would be imprudent in the 
 extreme to repel this advance ; and as the pos- 
 sibility of succeeding to the Marchdale titles 
 and estates had often in secret served as founda- 
 tion for air built castles, which soothed Mrs. 
 Hartland's solitary hours, she had already 
 anticipated a part of her noble connexion's 
 petition, by resolving on giving her child, should 
 it prove a son, the only high sounding name in 
 the family. Nothing could be more flattering 
 to maternal ambition than the coincidence, 
 which resolved all past solicitude into the pleas- 
 ing certainty, that the expected progeny was 
 to be ushered into life with due pretension. If 
 a son, as it was earnestly prayed that the off- 
 spring should prove, Lord Marchdale and Sir 
 Roger Goodman were to be his sureties; if a 
 girl, Lady Marchdale and Lady Goodman were 
 to perforin the like office ; and Miss Ferret, of 
 whose adhesive assiduities it was impossible to 
 get rid, was to be an honorary or supplemental 
 corps of reserve. Nothing would tempt her to 
 abandon the honour of " standing for the child;"
 
 WHO IS SHE? 85 
 
 and, to pacify her, Mrs. Hartland consented to 
 her bearing it to the font, where she hoped that 
 her over-zealous friend might be mistaken for a 
 mere proxy. 
 
 All things being prepared, and the minds of 
 all composed into tranquillity, Mrs. Hartland 
 felt the moment arrived which was to crown her 
 hopes and raise her consequence. But an event 
 of such importance deserves a separate Chapter, 
 and therefore we close this. Muffle the knocker, 
 scatter straw round the house and offices, for- 
 bid all approach of horse or wheel that might 
 disturb the anxious hour, and commit the in- 
 valid, with our blessing, to her medical at- 
 tendants.
 
 86 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 '* He talks to me, who never had a son." — Kikg John. 
 
 We remember to have been shown once upon 
 a time, as a marvellous curiosity, the stump of a 
 large bay-tree, which had been cut down to 
 make way for certain architectural improve- 
 ments, and actually converted into a chopping- 
 block, in which capacity it was employed during 
 several years ; but at length the family, to whom 
 it appertained, quitted their dwelling, and the 
 aforesaid stump, which had not been defunct, 
 but only slumbering, was cast into a heap of 
 earth, where, fertilized by the beams of the sun 
 and the dews of the morning, it struck root 
 amid the garden rubbish, and sent forth branches 
 which flourished proudly, and spread their ver- 
 dant foliage to the wondering skies. What joy- 
 ful surprise would this neglected trunk have ex- 
 pressed had power of speech been granted !
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 87 
 
 and with what grateful pride would it not have 
 called on the admiring universe to behold and 
 glorify its transformation ! 
 
 Some such sentiments as we are supposing to 
 have emanated from our bay tree, glowed in 
 the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Hartland as they 
 gazed in rapture on a boy of uncommon sym- 
 metry and beauty; and, forgetful of the lavish 
 prodigality of that vivifying principle which is 
 employed at every moment in giving life from 
 the palace to the cottage, the cottage to the ken- 
 nel, and the kennel downwards to the lowest 
 grade of organised existence, thanked Heaven 
 with such alacrity of transport as seemed to in- 
 timate that they considered the effort of nature 
 which animated the vital energies of Henbury 
 as astonishing and unexpected as that which 
 caused the chopping-block to put forth leaves 
 and blossoms. 
 
 The innocent vanity which Mrs. Hartland 
 had formerly felt at finding herself a wife, dwin- 
 dled into insignificance in comparison with the 
 elation of her spirits when the dignity of mother 
 was added to her former honours ; and the words
 
 88 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 " son and hei?*" might be read in every look, 
 and traced in every gesture in characters which 
 seemed to say, that none but herself had ever 
 produced this mighty combination. 
 
 We have formerly stated, that literature was 
 not the prevailing taste of the neighbourhood 
 in which Henbury was planted, and as it is a 
 common rule " to do as the Romans do while 
 one is at Rome," Mr. and Mrs. Hartlancl may, 
 for all we can tell to the contrary, have sup- 
 pressed their own inclination to accommodate 
 their manners and habits to the fashion of those 
 amongst whom they dwelt. Certain it is that, 
 from whatever cause it proceeded, there was 
 an abstinence from books at Henbury till the 
 birth of Algernon Robinson Goodman Hart- 
 land, and though his father had gone through 
 school and university, and his mother played 
 well enough for carpet dancers, sang a little, 
 painted birds and flowers on velvet, and worked 
 like a Moravian, neither the one or the other 
 found time, amid the multiplicity of their daily 
 pursuits, for reading. 
 
 The revolution which was effected by the
 
 WHO IS SHE? 89 
 
 little stranger's arrival was therefore the more 
 striking. Every thing now was made subser- 
 vient to the one great leading object. During 
 the first year after this agreeable surprise, Hen- 
 bury appeared a temple dedicated to Lucina, in 
 which all the insignia of a new birth were dis- 
 played in cradle and pillows, saucepans and 
 panada, blankets and wraps. Whichever way 
 the eye were turned, the present deity of the 
 place reigned from the attic to the basement 
 story ; and all distinct purposes, and applica- 
 tions of the several apartments were set aside 
 for a season, to render the dwelling a universal 
 nursery. Then came on the time of go-carts and 
 corals ; and every publication on teething, vac- 
 cination, and each disease to which infant flesh 
 is heir, poured from the press by all the coaches, 
 as if authors and printers were in league to pay 
 their court to Mr. and Mrs. Hartland. 
 
 Three years passed away, and with them the 
 scaffolding which, becoming unnecessary, was 
 now thrown aside. The young Algernon, who, 
 it must be confessed, was beautiful as we are 
 taught to believe the little god of love, happily
 
 90 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 surmounted the host of enemies who take their 
 stand at the entrance-gate of life to oppose the 
 mortal wayfarer, and was the admiration of all 
 beholders, as well as the centre of all joy and 
 pride to his parents. He was a child of extraor- 
 dinary loveliness and most noble bearing ; and 
 fortunately for him his father and mother had 
 often remarked, that the peasant children were 
 a healthier race than the offspring of a higher 
 class, which procured for him the inestimable 
 privilege of breathing fresh air, and exercising 
 his little limbs out of doors. 
 
 The cares of home became gradually so en- 
 grossing as to wean Mr. and Mrs. Hartland 
 from the social circle, of which they had hitherto 
 been the chief pillar and support, in their neigh- 
 bourhood. They were now employed from 
 morning till night in studying plans of educa- 
 tion, mooting the comparative merits and deme- 
 rits of schools, canvassing the question of public 
 and private instruction, discussing the re- 
 spective characters of Oxford and Cambridge, 
 and laying schemes for futurity, as though time 
 were to have no end.
 
 WHO IS SHE? 91 
 
 The natural consequence of these things was 
 a considerable loss of popularity. People began 
 to think both Mr. and Mrs. Hartland, who had 
 been prime and general favourites, grown dull 
 and selfish, forgetting that it was selfishness 
 which passed the rigorous decree in adjudging 
 that disagreeable quality to them. Mrs. Hart- 
 land, who never till now talked of books, soon 
 obtained the opprobious appellation of a Blue, 
 and all Miss Ferret's efforts were unavailing to 
 conciliate those who could not bear to think that 
 the Hartlands were happy enough to do with- 
 out them. 
 
 Jemima, however, though she did her best to 
 obtain forgiveness for her friends, did not fail 
 to warn them in private of their improvidence. 
 " Out of sight out of mind," was an apothegm 
 which she urged with reiterated pathos, to deter 
 the inhabitants of Henbury from renouncing 
 the world, which she assured them " could not be 
 drawn on and off like a glove." Nothing, in fact, 
 could be more hostile to Miss Ferret's views 
 than divisions and schisms, which, by splitting a 
 neighbourhood into parties, diminished its gene-
 
 92 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 ral hospitality; or those withdrawings from 
 society through sickness or sorrow, which less- 
 ened the gregarious tendencies of the people 
 amongst whom she lived. We may therefore 
 give her full credit for not leaving, as she her- 
 self expressed it, "a stone unturned" to bring 
 our pair of recluses to reason, and induce them 
 to seek their felicity where she found her own, 
 namely, in the festive coterie. But Mrs. Hart- 
 land in the course of her new studies had, some 
 how or other, stumbled upon the remarkable 
 sentence which Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, 
 when a boy, wrote with a pencil at the bottom 
 of a map of Riga, demonstrative of those talents 
 which were one day to astonish the world : 
 " Dieu me l'a donnee et le diable ne me l'otera 
 pas," and with maternal energy she replied in 
 these celebrated words, intimating by their ap- 
 propriation to her own case, the same heroic 
 resolutions which inspired the Swede, to pre- 
 serve that which had been granted to her arms. 
 " My dear Jemima," added she, uncon- 
 sciously drawing up her head as she spoke, 
 " there is nothing easier than for people to
 
 talk who are not mothers. I cannot perform 
 by halves, the momentous duty which it has 
 pleased heaven to devolve upon me. The sacred 
 task can only be fulfilled by an entire devotion, 
 and we must give ourselves up to the faithful dis- 
 charge of this awful trust. Lady Goodman, too, 
 has never known what it is to be a mother 
 (raising her head still higher) : and really, mv 
 dear, it is impossible, even for the best inten- 
 tioned of one's friends who are inexperienced^ to 
 enter into the tremendous responsibilities of a 
 parent." 
 
 " Xo, thank heaven," answered Miss Ferret; 
 " I know only by hearsay of the great pangs 
 and perils, through the martyrdom of which 
 you boast your new title : though our curate 
 Mr. Pew, who had been but just appointed 
 before your confinement, seeing me at your side 
 when I accompanied you to the communion- 
 table, stupidly churched me also, and gave me a 
 share in all your thanksgivings for a son and 
 heir. But depend upon it, my dear friend, 
 that you will be tired of all this sort of thing by 
 and by, and wish that you had not affronted
 
 94 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 your neighbours. Remember, after all said and 
 done, that there cannot be any great distinction 
 in bringing a bantling into the world, when 
 every beggar-woman in the parish has a troop 
 at her heels. - Your child will fare the better for 
 not being thought so much of. I always say 
 that ' the watched pot never boils,' and people 
 are constantly disappointed themselves, besides 
 being intolerable to others, when they make too 
 great a fuss about any thing that belongs to 
 them." 
 
 Mrs. Hartland was deeply offended, and thus 
 ended an intercourse which had ceased to please 
 on either side, and the go-beticeen quitted Hen- 
 bury and its inhabitants for ever, enlisting her- 
 self from that moment amongst the most active 
 of the oppositionists, who ridiculed their folly 
 and resented their pretensions. 
 
 Matters proceeded in this train till our once 
 social pair had scarcely a neighbour with whom 
 they interchanged the usual hospitalities. They 
 were, however, so absorbed by their domestic 
 interests, that no void was felt, and the only 
 serious grief which disturbed their happiness
 
 WHO IS SHE? 95 
 
 was the want of a companion about his own age 
 for their idol Algernon, who improved in 
 beauty as he advanced in growth, and gave evi- 
 dence of talents at five years old which might 
 have been deemed uncommon at double that age. 
 As may be imagined, Algernon experienced 
 the very worst effects of the spoiling system. 
 Every possible error in education seemed likely 
 to lend its*aid in making the child selfish, and the 
 man, if he lived to become one, insignificant and 
 disagreeable. Mrs. Haitian d read every trea- 
 tise which had ever been published on her 
 favourite theme, and endeavoured to put every 
 theory in practice. Like all late converts to any 
 thing from its opposite, she was mad upon the 
 subject of reading. Literature, next to the love 
 of young Algernon, became her ruling passion, 
 and the most tiresome pedantry of language suc- 
 ceeded her natural manner of expressing herself. 
 Exercising a limited capacity on topics new to 
 her understanding, and often above its calibre, 
 our good dame's mind became the strangest 
 mass that could be conceived of ill-dio-ested 
 systems, the principles of which she could not
 
 96 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 comprehend, but the practical results of which, 
 however contradictory, she attempted to realize. 
 Algernon was to be a miracle of early know- 
 ledge ; yet his mind was not to be over- 
 wrought. He was to be a prodigy of courage, 
 while every living animal was banished from his 
 presence, lest any injury should reach the child. 
 Of self-denial he was to be a shining example, 
 because Mrs. Hartland found that quality much 
 insisted upon in the works which were now her 
 chief delight ; but at the same time her son's 
 spirit was not to be broken by opposition, nor 
 his temper soured by contradiction. From this 
 specimen it is easy to judge of the whole, and 
 the reader has no need of further insight into 
 the chaos which we have sufficiently described. 
 
 Mr. Hartland, though Greek and Latin had 
 been driven into his cranium, and he was rather 
 proud of his skill in prosody, was a person of 
 still flatter intellect than his wife. Constitu- 
 tional indolence also added lead to the dullness 
 of his faculties. It is therefore not to be won- 
 dered at, that, mistaking his fair partner's acti- 
 vity for genius, and her dictatorial harangues,
 
 WHO IS SHE { 9T 
 
 delivered in words, each of which was as long as 
 a tape-worm, for the profoundest wisdom ; he 
 honestly believed that Minerva herself had 
 stepped down from her niche in the celestial 
 Pantheon, to assume the outward similitude of 
 his better half. 
 
 Now it so happened that, about the period of 
 which we are speaking, a monstrous quarto, with 
 prodigious margins, which professed to impart 
 the newest and most approved method of teach- 
 ing the young idea how to shoot like a vine 
 along the march of modern intellect, arrived at 
 Henbury-lodge. Mrs. Hartland flew at the 
 prize, and disinterring the volume from the 
 superincumbent mass of brown paper and twine 
 by which it was environed, hastened to her sanc- 
 tum, and opening at random, after the manner 
 of the Virgilian lots, she chanced to light upon 
 the following paragraph, which struck upon her 
 eye and understanding as especially directed to 
 her peculiar case : 
 
 " Nothing is more essential to the healthful 
 " developement of infant mind, than congenial 
 " society. A child should associate with his 
 
 VOL. I. f
 
 98 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 "fellows, and while the bodily organs are kept 
 " in wholesome exercise, the mental energies 
 " are thus directed to the natural objects of 
 " childish pursuit. To this end children should 
 " be allowed to consort together, and exhibit 
 i( the true bearings of individual character, un- 
 " controlled by the bias which is given to youth 
 " by a constant and injurious companionship 
 " with adults. In fine, a child should always 
 " be provided with at least one playmate of his 
 " own age." 
 
 This paragraph rested on the mother's mind, 
 and was the Mordecai of her peace. Her inter- 
 course with the neighbouring gentry was re- 
 duced to an occasional exchange of morning 
 visits, which afforded no opportunity of intro- 
 ducing her boy to the children of her acquaint- 
 ance, and there seemed to be no probability of 
 his having brother or sister with whom to asso- 
 ciate at home. In this dilemma Mrs. Hartland 
 often turned in her mind the temporary adop- 
 tion of a peasant-child, w r ho might serve the 
 desired purpose ; but as frequently rejected the 
 idea, through dread of vulgar habits and low
 
 WHO IS SHE? 99 
 
 thoughts coming in contact with the mind of 
 her son. 
 
 While anxiously ruminating on what was best 
 to be done, it happened that Mr. Ackland, a 
 gentleman who lived a few miles distant from 
 Henbury, called to enquire for the family, and in 
 the course of conversation of that miscellaneous 
 kind which morning visits usually supply, turned 
 to Mrs. Hartland, and asked whether she had 
 been to Hazle-moor? 
 
 " Why to that desolate heath ? n replied she. 
 " I should not prefer a drive to Hazle-moor for 
 any beauty which that part of the country can 
 boast." 
 
 "No," said Mr. Ackland, "the landscape is 
 certainly not very alluring; but you have heard 
 of the lovely little Spaniard. Have you not ? " 
 
 " I have not the least idea of what you allude 
 to," answered Mrs. Hartland. u What Spa- 
 niard do you speak of? " 
 
 "Oh!" replied Mr. Ackland, "I thought 
 
 that every one within a circuit of twenty miles 
 
 at least had heard of our beautiful infant 
 
 stranger. It is upwards of a week since a troop 
 
 y2
 
 100 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 of gipsies appeared upon Hazle-moor, and there 
 they might have held their station ever since 
 without exciting particular attention, were it 
 not for the extraordinary perfections of a child, 
 who has in some mysterious manner fallen into 
 their hands. Two or three portrait- painters 
 have already come to take likenesses of the fasci- 
 nating little creature; and the wild community 
 to which she belongs having discovered the 
 profit which may be realized through her means, 
 are daily making money by exhibiting the sym- 
 metry of her baby-form to all who are prompted 
 by curiosity to visit this tiny enchan tress." 
 
 " Who is she ? " said Mrs. Hartland. 
 
 " That is precisely the question which every 
 body asks, and none can answer," replied Mr. 
 Ackland. " If her owners are acquainted with 
 her parentage, they do not choose to tell more 
 than that they purchased her from a soldier's wife, 
 who seemed a worthless sort of person. Her 
 little mantle, hat, and plume, together with her 
 country's dialect, proclaim the land which gave 
 her birth. She speaks fluently, though with 
 lisping tongue, and calls herself Zoe, as the
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 101 
 
 nearest approximation which she can make to 
 the more difficult pronunciation of Zorilda, 
 which is the name she bears." 
 
 " Dear babe ! " exclaimed Mrs. Hartland, 
 " what will become of her? " 
 
 * Alas ! " said Mr. Ackland, " the parents 
 who have been robbed of such a child are 
 objects of one's tenderest commiseration; and 
 as to the little one herself, it is but too easy to 
 foretell that her course cannot prosper. She is 
 now only three years old or thereabouts ; and 
 for a short time to come may not imbibe the 
 poison of personal flattery, but a race of vanity 
 will terminate in destruction. Were I not the 
 father of a family, and fearful of introducing 
 perhaps the murderer of future repose amongst 
 my children by bringing a dangerous non-de- 
 script under my roof, I would certainly pur- 
 chase Zorilda from her present possessors, and 
 take her home to Xewlands, in the hope of 
 being able to restore her some day or other to 
 her relations. Yet, on the other hand, she may 
 be the property of people who are not desirous 
 to reclaim her, and might entail a weighty re-
 
 102 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 sponsbility on my head. Such a romantic im- 
 portation into my household could not fail of 
 working mischief in the fulness of time, and 
 therefore I have resolved silencing all the yearn- 
 ings of impulse ; but I recommend both you and 
 Mr. Hartland to go and see her, as the wander- 
 ing group who are intent on showing her to all 
 who will pay them for the sight, will speedily 
 pack up in all probability for some other scene/' 
 A sudden thought, which she refrained from 
 promulging, darted across the mind of Mrs. 
 Hartland, and she pondered intently on what 
 had fallen from Mr. Ackland till the following 
 day, when, ordering her carriage immediately 
 after breakfast, she set out, accompanied by her 
 husband, young Algernon, and his nurse, for 
 Hazle-moor.
 
 WHO IS SHE? 103 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Beauty provoketh Thieves sooner than Gold." 
 
 As YOU LIKE IT. 
 
 The day was fine, and Algernon in high 
 sprightliness and bloom, while his delighted 
 mother, stimulated by the opportunity of com- 
 parison which now presented itself, secretly 
 doubted in the pride of her heart that any 
 " mortal mixture of Earth's mould " could fur- 
 nish such a specimen of infant grace, as feasted 
 her raptured eyes whenever they rested on her 
 darling, who had now attained the fifth anni- 
 versary of his birth. Arrived at the Gipsey 
 encampment, the party from Henbury de- 
 scended from their carriage and approached a 
 crazy tent, the back of which was turned 
 towards the road by which our visitors had ar- 
 rived at Hazle-moor. Mrs. Hartland, snatching 
 her boy's hand, pressed eagerly forward, seeking
 
 104 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 with all her eyes, in every direction, for the 
 little Zorilda. A group of rustic looking chil- 
 dren were at play in front of the tent, and Mrs. 
 Hartland darted into the midst of the circle, 
 but not seeing any thing attractive in the coarse 
 physiognomy of these youthful boors, she was 
 seized with sudden alarm lest the object of her 
 curiosity had been borne away by some fortunate 
 rival, in the very scheme which she was herself 
 meditating at that moment. 
 
 While she paused, not perceiving any grown 
 person to whom she could direct an enquiry, a 
 woman came running from a little distance and 
 called out, " the Spanish child is here, Ma'am, 
 please to walk this way." So saying, she con- 
 ducted the party to the distance of a few hundred 
 yards, till they reached a great mound of peat 
 which had been piled together by the peasants 
 of the country for firing, and formed a main 
 source of incitement to the gipsies in selecting 
 this spot for their temporary encampment. 
 
 The woman preceded, followed by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Hartland, Algernon, and his nurse, and 
 as they turned round the corner of the peat-rick,
 
 WHO IS SHE? 105 
 
 they were arrested with astonishment at sight of 
 the perfection of human loveliness which burst 
 upon their impatient view. Nothing, which was 
 ever fashioned in the laboratory of Nature in 
 her most plastic mood, could surpass the ex- 
 quisite beauty of the cherub who lay fast asleep 
 upon a cushion of newly gathered heath, the 
 rich purple blossoms of which, mingling with 
 curls of glossy jet, seemed to breathe their per- 
 fumes in token of grateful pleasure, as the 
 mountain breeze playing amongst the tender 
 branches wafted their delicate sprays across the 
 infant's polished brow, as if to guard the little 
 angel from the sun's too fervid beams. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hartland gazed in silent rap- 
 ture, but Algernon's transports were not so 
 easily repressed; and Zorilda was wakened by 
 the inconsiderate demonstration of his joy at 
 sight of her. The pretty creature started from 
 her fragrant pillow, and, frightened by the pre- 
 sence of strangers, opened wide the most splen- 
 did dark eyes, which till then had been repo- 
 sing within their silken curtains, and, looking 
 wildly round, stretched her dimpled arms 
 f 5
 
 106 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 towards the gipsey woman, to whose features 
 she was accustomed ; but ere the movement was 
 finished, her attention was caught by the little 
 boy, and springing forward to him, these 
 charming children were in an instant locked in 
 each other's embraces. 
 
 Mrs. Hartland's tears bespoke the feelings of 
 her heart, and the gipsey woman, desirous to 
 heighten the effect of the scene by flattery, as- 
 sured her that the little Spaniard had never be- 
 fore exhibited such sensibility to a stranger. 
 
 The children played together with a kid 
 which had attached itself to Zorilda, and lay 
 cropping the stray sprigs of her flowery couch 
 while she slept. As Mrs. Hartland retired back 
 a few paces to indulge her emotion, the young 
 Spaniard fancied that, she was going away, and 
 seizing her hand, pointed to Algernon with a 
 look of deep anxiety, crying, in the sweetest 
 possible accent, " Lady, no, no go." The spell 
 was now firmly bound around the mother's 
 affection, and she resolved, that if money could 
 purchase the child, she would not return home 
 without Zorilda. Mr. Hartland was in the
 
 WHO IS SHE? 107 
 
 habit, as has been stated, of yielding to every 
 suggestion of his wife, whose prudence he re- 
 spected as much as he admired her wisdom ; and 
 as he doted on his son, in common with her, 
 and was as much delighted with Zorilda as Mrs. 
 Hartland could possibly be, he entered warmly 
 into the idea of securing such a treasure of com- 
 panionship for Algernon, and set about negotia- 
 ting the purchase with all the zeal of one who 
 wished to succeed. 
 
 The husband of the gipsey woman returned 
 ere long, and much time did not elapse before 
 a bargain was concluded, the terms of which 
 were, that the child should accompany the party 
 to Henbury, leaving the best part of her little 
 wardrobe behind, and fifty guineas were to be 
 exchanged for her in cash. The gipsies were in 
 reality very anxious to sell the infant, as, though 
 the avidity of gain rendered them desirous to 
 exhibit her for profit, they suffered continual 
 uneasiness from the dread of her being claimed. 
 They had, it is true, stolen her in a distant part 
 of the kingdom, and reached Hazle-moor by 
 forced marches and by intricate bye ways ; but
 
 108 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 much farther concealment could not be hoped 
 for, and the mere loss of their booty was not the 
 worst which these lawless plunderers appre- 
 hended. They would be punished for the fla- 
 grant violation of the laws which they had com- 
 mitted, and therefore gladly availed themselves 
 of the first offer to take the little girl off their 
 hands for a pecuniary price. 
 
 The business was arranged, and Zorilda, who 
 clung with the greatest solicitude to her new 
 acquaintance, as if she felt it more natural as 
 well as agreeable to associate with them than 
 her late masters, was put into the carriage. 
 Algernon followed, and Mrs. Hartland was just 
 raising her foot to the step, when Zorilda's kid 
 made a spring, and took precedence most un- 
 gallantly of the lady. The children were 
 charmed with nanny-goat's agility, clasped it in 
 their arms, and begged that it might be left with 
 them. Half a guinea settled this second sale, 
 and the happy family drove away; Mr. Hart- 
 land having stipulated to redeem his promissory 
 note on the next market-day at the Tholsel, 
 and an engagement having been agreed to by
 
 WHO IS SHE? 109 
 
 the wandering horde, that no enquiries should 
 ever be made by any of them again concerning 
 the Spanish foundling. 
 
 " Who can this little darling be ? " said Mrs. 
 Hartland. It was in vain that she catechised 
 the child. " Zoe," was the only reply to the 
 question, however frequently repeated, of "what 
 is your name ? " 
 
 The little stranger speedily adopted the 
 sounds of " papa and mamma," the happy chil- 
 dren lived in each other's smiles, unconscious 
 that a time might ever come when joy should 
 be exchanged for grief; and what is more ex- 
 traordinary, such is the contraction of a selfish 
 spirit, parents who ought to have been able 
 to take a wider survey of causes and effects, 
 were satisfied with present expediency, and re- 
 solved that futurity should shift for itself. 
 
 Time rolled on ; the same lessons, the same 
 amusements, occupied the opening minds of 
 Algernon and Zorilda ; yet in reality how dis- 
 similar was the education which they received ! 
 Admired, and even cherished as was the latter, 
 she was in point of fact a purchased slave, while
 
 110 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 the former was the hope, the promise, the prop, 
 and pillar of his father's house. As we have 
 never obtained a phrenological survey of these 
 childrens' heads, we shall not say any thing of 
 original configuration with reference to faculties 
 and positions, nor fraudulently entrap our read- 
 ers into a new edition of Locke on the human 
 understanding, when they expect to find a nar- 
 rative relating to individuals and events. It 
 suffices us as faithful biographers to state that, 
 while Algernon was theoretically informed, Zo- 
 rilda was practically instructed; and as early 
 impressions are generally conceived to possess 
 considerable influence on subsequent character, 
 we hope to be pardoned for briefly describing 
 the opposite results of two systems essentially 
 different from each other. Were the children 
 at their meals? Algernon was told that good 
 boys were never greedy, but he was always 
 helped first. Were the little friends at play ? 
 Algernon often heard that the eldest, who had 
 most sense, should always give up, and "the 
 young gentleman yield to the young lady." 
 Yet Algernon who was selfish, contended, con*
 
 WHO IS SHE? Ill 
 
 quered, and was never reprimanded. He was 
 recommended to be polite, but the little Zorilda 
 was commanded to bring him whatever he 
 wanted. Matters in short were so managed, or 
 rather mismanaged, that ivords were employed 
 with one, and actions with the other; shadoics 
 were the portion of Algernon, while all the sub- 
 stance of discipline was bestowed on Zorilda. 
 
 As the children advanced they read the same 
 books, they were taught by the same masters, 
 they learned the same accomplishments, but 
 literary or ornamental acquirement is only the 
 surface of education. The foundation of charac- 
 ter, such as forms the real distinction between 
 individuals of the human species, must be laid 
 in the heart, and whether a man is the blessing 
 or the curse of that society in which he possesses 
 influence in after life, generally depends upon 
 the practical nature of those views by which his 
 natural propensities are regulated, his vicious 
 tendencies repressed, and every noble, virtuous 
 indication strengthened and encouraged. Pro- 
 fession is not principle ; saying is not doing ; and 
 the fruits will correspond with the methods
 
 112 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 pursued in training the youthful mind. Alger- 
 non and Zorilda doted on each other, but the 
 former loved himself better than his little com- 
 panion. He could not endure her absence, but 
 it was because her sweet temper, cheerful acqui- 
 escence and inventive talents, increased the mea- 
 sure of his enjoyment by constant study to 
 please, and perpetual variety in the means of 
 amusement. Zorilda's affection on the contrary 
 was unadulterated by the alloy of selfishness. 
 She could not imagine pleasure separate from 
 the happiness of those who were dear to her 
 little heart. Though her childish sports lost all 
 their charm when Algernon did not share them, 
 she would at any moment endeavour to promote 
 his gratification by the sacrifice of her own ; and 
 employed her irresistible eloquence in further- 
 ing the indulgence of a ride upon the favourite 
 pony at Mr. Hartland's side, which would de- 
 prive her of all she valued till the return of her 
 beloved play-fellow from his excursion. 
 
 At length arrived the important hour of de- 
 cision upon the long agitated question of a pub- 
 lic school or a private tutor ; and the latter was
 
 WHO IS SHE? 113 
 
 agreed upon. Mr. Playfair's credentials were 
 unexceptionable, and he commenced his course 
 with every prospect of mutual liking. He was 
 a middle-aged man, of pleasing manners, and 
 an excellent scholar ; but as he was given to un- 
 derstand that no moral instruction was required 
 at his hands, he soon learned to desist from in- 
 terfering with a department placed beyond the 
 bounds of his jurisdiction. 
 
 u I would not allow any mortal," said Mrs. 
 Hartland, " to supersede me in the pleasing task 
 of forming the mind and manners of my son ; " 
 and we have already seen how she was qualified 
 for the work which she determined on executing 
 without substitute or auxiliary. 
 
 Algernon wept over the Latin Grammar, and 
 chiefly, because he did not see any one else con- 
 demned to the labours which were inflicted on 
 him. 
 
 " Why does not Mr. Play fair make Zoe as 
 unhappy as I am, and give her this hard lesson 
 to get by heart ? " said the boy, as he sobbed 
 upon his mother's breast. 
 
 Zoe was also drowned in tears; but it was be-
 
 114- TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 cause Algernon was afflicted, and her question, 
 urged in the softest tenderest accent, was, " Oh, 
 why may not I learn his lesson? I will then 
 teach it to him." 
 
 These two short and simple queries furnish 
 the clue by which to follow the entire labyrinth 
 of these childrens' course. Mr. Playfair, who 
 was charmed with Zorilda's beauty and docility, 
 readily undertook to aid her generous purpose, 
 by becoming her tutor, to which Mrs. Hartland 
 willingly consented; " not that Greek and La- 
 tin," said she, " are necessary for a young lady, 
 but as dear Zoe, who in point of fact is nobody, 
 much as we love her, may turn all that we can 
 do for her to future account, she may now be 
 made useful to Algernon as well as herself, by 
 sharing all his labours." 
 
 This fiat, though pronounced in an under 
 voice, struck on Zorilda's ear and attention. 
 She was now only six years old, but the remark- 
 able acuteness of her sensibility, as well as un- 
 derstanding, rendered a thousand appeals to 
 both, which were beyond the reach of much 
 older children, comprehensible to her young
 
 WHO IS SHE? 115 
 
 mind; and the word nobody suffused her ex- 
 pressive countenance with a blush of deepest 
 die. She had often heard the question asked, 
 " Who is she ?" " Zoe," was her only reply, 
 and she had never tarried to hear another 
 answer. This nobody perplexed her little heart, 
 and, running into the arms of Mrs. Hart- 
 land, she buried her glowing face in the bosom 
 of her protectress. 
 
 " What do you mean, dear Mamma ? sure 
 Algernon is somebody; and though I am 
 younger, is not Zoe somebody too ? we are both 
 your children." 
 
 Mrs. Hartland sighed, and, caressing the 
 child, disengaged herself from the tender pres- 
 sure, while a " Yes, my love," hastily uttered as 
 she left the room, had the effect of brushing away 
 the tear which, at Zoe's age, " is dried as soon 
 as shed." 
 
 Mr. Playfair was a man of distinguished 
 learning, but he possessed qualities of much 
 rarer character than scholarship. He was a 
 man of strong sense and deep feeling. 
 
 Mrs. Hartland on quitting the room had
 
 116 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 given him a look of intelligence, which he un- 
 derstood, and following her to another apart- 
 ment, he listened, for the first time, to the his- 
 tory of Zorilda's introduction at Henbury. 
 
 When the story was finished, Mr. Playfair 
 ventured to suggest a hint of future inconveni- 
 ence from this lovely child's domestication in 
 the family. 
 
 " A day will come," added he, " in which 
 the truth must be revealed, and I foresee at 
 least the possibility of great misery and embar- 
 rassment." 
 
 Selfish people seldom take long views even 
 for themselves, but happily for the rest of man- 
 kind, are generally so uncompromising and pre- 
 cipitate in endeavouring to compass their ends, 
 as to put others on their defence, and enable 
 them sometimes to counteract, always to antici- 
 pate the bearing of an illiberal spirit, intent on 
 its own exclusive gratification. 
 
 Mr. Playfair possessed discrimination, and 
 took in at a glance the entire carte du pays. 
 Though the little Zorilda was affectionately 
 treated at Henbury, he clearly perceived that
 
 WHO IS SHE? 11? 
 
 she would be unrelentingly sacrificed to the in- 
 terests of ambition, and shaken off without any 
 attention to her feelings whenever a period ar- 
 rived in which it might be deemed prudent to 
 get rid of her; but she was an unfriended or- 
 phan, and to snatch her from present positive 
 good in order to avoid future contingent evil, 
 might perhaps have been scarcely justifiable, 
 even though ability to do so had seconded in- 
 clination. In Mr. Playfair's case it was impos- 
 sible. He had no resources, and was a single 
 man. All that his situation permitted, he de- 
 termined on contributing for the benefit of his 
 interesting charge, and never were exertions 
 more fully repaid. Zorilda's talents were of the 
 first order, and what is not usual, the solidity of 
 her understanding equalled its extraordinary 
 quickness. She learned with surprising facility, 
 and discovered such a thirst for knowledge, 
 that, never satisfied with superficial glimmer- 
 ings, she loved to probe the depths of every sub- 
 ject which lay open to her pursuit. 
 
 Algernon's sloth bore strict proportion to Zo- 
 rilda's industry, of which he knew how to reap
 
 118 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 the profit in a manner most congenial to his taste. 
 Certain of having his exercise written, and his 
 translation parsed by the companion of his stu- 
 dies, before she looked at her own task, he gave 
 himself as little trouble as possible ; but, aware 
 that the measure of his idleness must continually 
 depend on that of Zoe's diligence and applica- 
 tion, he encouraged in her what he neglected in 
 his own instance, and thus was instrumental in 
 assisting Mr. Playfair's benevolent design of 
 storing the mind of the young unknown against 
 the hour of adversity. Whatever was the sub- 
 ject of instruction, Zorilda's intuitive clearness of 
 perception anticipated the labours of her tutor, 
 and she actually learned faster than he could 
 teach ; yet vanity was a stranger to her young 
 heart. Conscious of ignorance, while she sought 
 information, it appeared to her nothing extra- 
 ordinary that she should understand what the 
 wisdom of others supplied : she transferred all 
 honour to her instructor, and as Mr. Playfair 
 had too sincere an interest in the welfare of his 
 pupil to flatter her, our little heroine passed her 
 early spring of life without guessing that her ta-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 119 
 
 lents exceeded the common faculties of her fel- 
 low-creatures. Algernon breathed, on the con- 
 trary, an atmosphere of continual praise, with 
 which his injudicious mother endeavoured to 
 stimulate his progress. The two children might 
 be compared to plants, the one of which put 
 forth its sickly bloom in the artificial soil of a 
 hot-bed ; while the other, fanned by the breezes, 
 and fertilized by the dews of heaven, flourished 
 in full luxuriance of natural strength and beauty ; 
 but as the gardener, who digs, prunes, trains, 
 and waters, is the only person interested in the 
 gradual unfolding of those "leafy honours," which 
 it is enough for the casual visitor to see fully de- 
 veloped, we shall now draw a curtain over 
 the scene of budding hopes ; or, if we may be 
 allowed to conclude our present Chapter with 
 another simile, we will dive like the wild sea bird 
 into the ocean of time, on the surface of which 
 we have been slowly sailing, and hiding beneath 
 the billows for a season, start up anew after a 
 temporary submersion.
 
 120 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 We were as twinned lambs that did frisk i' the sun 
 
 And bleat the one at the other : what we changed 
 
 Was innocence for innocence. We knew not 
 
 The doctrine of ill-doing. No, nor dreamed 
 
 That any did. Winter's Tale. 
 
 As we are not shackled by those inconvenient 
 unities which fetter the discursive propensities 
 of the dramatist, binding him to time and place, 
 we have been permitted to take a ramble or a 
 doze as our inclinations prompted, and re-assem- 
 ble at Henbury, after an interval of some years. 
 
 On our return, we are naturally struck with 
 the changes which such a lapse has effected. 
 Many alterations have taken place amongst our 
 old friends in the Hartland family since our last 
 domestication amongst them. On our return 
 we found, it is true, the same dramatis persona? ; 
 but the aspect of things was changed. The mas- 
 ter of the mansion was the first to appear as we
 
 WHO IS SHE? 121 
 
 approached his dwelling; and though men of 
 his temperament are remarkable for wearing 
 well, the perennial smile which used to illumine 
 his features with the dead-light of a peat-coal 
 fire, was darkened by a cloud, if not of contem- 
 plation, certainly of care, which had destroyed 
 the only redeeming expression of a mindless 
 countenance. He was riding over his farm, with 
 his eyes fixed on vacancy, while he went at a 
 snail's pace, and his horse's bridle lay floating on 
 the pummel of the saddle. We next discovered 
 that Mrs. Hartland was not far off, as we heard 
 her speak before we had the pleasure of seeing 
 her, and learned, on inquiry, that we were not 
 mistaken in our recollection of her voice, though 
 it was now employed in scolding, which was a 
 novelty to our ears. 
 
 " Ay," said the gardener, with whom we held 
 some conversation before we were enabled to 
 judge for ourselves, " Missess has taken latterly 
 to thrift, and her eye is every where. We say 
 that, like what is remarked of the Bristol men, 
 she sleeps with one eye open, for nothing es- 
 capes her. She is all for the lucre of gain. The 
 
 vol. I. g
 
 122 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 family is kept as bare as can be, and she sends 
 off the best of every thing to market. Miss- 
 Ferret now supplies the whole country round 
 with Henbury pork, and Henbury fowls, and 
 Henbury cheese, vegetables, fruit, and flowers. 
 Nothing will go down that doesn't come from 
 Henbury; and it is lamentable to see a lady 
 scuffling about early and late, in her thick shoes 
 and rug cloak ; battling with every body, and 
 grinding people to powder with her tongue ; and 
 all this to puff up pride, by heaping up treasure 
 for him who will not have the heart to spend it 
 as he ought. If it wasn't for that angel, Miss 
 Zoe, who keeps the young Squire in check, he 
 would be just as great a skin-flint as his mother." 
 Accuracy of observation is not to be measured 
 by refinement of phrase ; and though this rough 
 sketch was delivered in coarse language, it was 
 a correct delineation. Mr. Hartland's strictness 
 of economy had grown out of circumstances, the 
 chief amongst which was a decline in the health 
 of Lady Marchdale. Should she die, there was 
 danger that Lord Marchdale w r ould marry again, 
 and thus the remotest chance might be cut off
 
 WHO IS SHE? 123 
 
 of Algernon's succession to the title and estates 
 of his noble relative. As matters stood, though 
 hope fluttered her golden pinion, and sometimes 
 dazzled the mother's eye, expectation could not 
 be said to live in her breast, for she knew that 
 Lord Marchdale had levied fines, and could 
 alienate his property if he pleased ; but he was 
 fond of his name, and her son bore not only that 
 of the family, but the Earl's Christian name in 
 addition ; besides, the relation of godfather was 
 something, and the best look-out of all was, that 
 a nobleman so situated might delay making his 
 will ; in which case, were he to die intestate, 
 Algernon was next heir after his own father. 
 These were strong points, but not sufficient 
 ground to rest upon, and therefore Mrs. Hart- 
 land prudently resolved to act as if the hedge- 
 rows of Henbury formed the extremest horizon 
 of her view. Having taken the lead in her son's 
 education for several years, and perhaps believ- 
 ing that he was quite faultless, she gradually re- 
 laxed the severity of her studies, and, ranging the 
 ponderous volumes over which she had pored 
 during many a day upon the shelf, she devoted 
 g2
 
 124 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 herself to active concerns, and became so ex- 
 pert in buying and selling, farming and feeding, 
 that every year found a new deposit in the 
 hands of Mr. Fairly, the stock-broker. 
 
 "My dear," said Mrs. Hartland to her hus- 
 band, " we must not depend on accidents. Our 
 duty is to lay up for our child. If he comes to 
 the family title and fortune, well and good ; no 
 harm is done, and a nest-egg in the funds is 
 never amiss. If, on the other hand, we are dis- 
 appointed, Algernon may still hold up his head 
 amongst our neighbours, if we scrape together 
 our pence, and live as we ought to do." 
 
 Mr. Hartland nodded assent, and the screw- 
 ing system commenced, not, however, without 
 a keen eye to appearances, which were to be 
 observed so as to maintain a show of gentility 
 suited to prospective contingencies. The warm, 
 broad, laughing fire was exchanged for the 
 sullen brasier or the sulphurous stove ; and 
 though Mr. Playfair more than once reminded 
 Mrs. Hartland of the anecdote of Alexander and 
 Diogenes, she contrived to exclude the bright- 
 ness of the sun, along with the caloric of his
 
 WHO IS SHE? ]25 
 
 beams, from affording compensation for the de- 
 ficiency of coals, by blocking up half the win- 
 dows in the house, to avoid the tax upon day- 
 light. The form of two courses certainly graced 
 the table ; but in the first, the smoking joint had 
 given way to scraps and messes dished up no- 
 body knew how, or from what material, while 
 never-ending Jerusalem artichokes, skerrets, and 
 celery, played an unfailing part in furnishing 
 the second. We were assured that Mrs. Hart- 
 land's parsimony had even descended to mixing 
 the wines with water, before they were put down 
 after dinner. 
 
 But where were the young people, and how 
 had time dealt with them ? The old lord of the 
 scythe and hour-glass had performed the pro- 
 mise which, during their infancy, he made to each. 
 Algernon, who had reached his nineteenth year, 
 was strikingly handsome. Nearly six feet in 
 height, he had nothing of the awkwardness 
 which usually marks that age; but presented 
 the appearance of full-grown five-and- twenty. 
 Algernon was, however, still the same indolent
 
 126 
 
 TALES OF MY TIME, 
 
 and selfish being of our former acquaintance. 
 He had imbibed just enough of knowledge and 
 acquirement to shew how much more he might 
 have attained, and possessed abilities capable of 
 far higher cultivation than he could be prevailed 
 upon to employ ; but self was the deity of his 
 worship, and we need say no more of him. 
 
 Of Zorilda — what words can be found to con- 
 vey an adequate idea of her perfections ? She 
 had numbered nearly seventeen years, and in 
 face and figure exhibited a model of female love- 
 liness. The exquisite beauty of her form, the 
 natural grace of every movement, and the pe- 
 netrating sensibility of her countenance, would 
 have rivetted all beholders, even though her 
 features had wanted that symmetry which is re- 
 quisite to charm the artist's eye; but Zorilda 
 might have defied the painter's skill to find a 
 fault in the proportions of her face, and that 
 face bespoke the soul which dwelt within, and 
 was worthy of such a casket to contain such a 
 2rem. Never did imagination create a more de- 
 lightful fiction than was realized in the person
 
 WHO IS SHE? 127 
 
 of the youthful Spaniard. Was it wonderful, 
 then, that all who looked upon her, saw and 
 loved ? 
 
 For two young people to have lived from in- 
 fancy together without having ascertained that 
 they were not related to each other by even the 
 remotest tie of consanguinity, would be ridicu- 
 lous to suppose, and was not the fact, though 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hartland had been silent, and 
 ordered their household to abstain from any 
 communication which might destroy the illusion 
 of brother and sister, which, if established into 
 habitual belief, might never be questioned, and 
 prevent the growth of those sentiments which 
 the anxious parents at last dreaded to antici- 
 pate. Blinded by her wishes, as well as natural 
 presumption, Mrs. Hartland had long refused 
 to open her eyes to the possible consequences of 
 her imprudent conduct, in domesticating her 
 only son with the most attractive of her sex, 
 unless she desired a union between them. She 
 saw nothing but the accomplishment of her own 
 views in any arrangement; and even after the 
 warning voice of Mr. Playfair had put her on
 
 128 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 her guard, thought it only necessary to employ 
 an increased reserve upon the topic of Zoe's 
 origin, to secure against an unfortunate result, 
 and continue to Algernon the happiness of com- 
 panionship, without endangering his future 
 repose. 
 
 " Should a time ever arrive, " said the coarse- 
 grained Mrs. Hartland, " when it may become 
 requisite to take stronger measures, it is only 
 necessary to tell Algernon the truth. My son 
 will never disgrace himself by alliance with a 
 gipsey. We can remove Zoe at any time, as I 
 say, Mr. Playfair. I appeal to you, rather than 
 Mr. Hartland, on this point, because he is ab- 
 surdly fond of the girl, and 1 often tell him that 
 I am certain he loves that enfant trouve better 
 than his own flesh and blood." 
 
 " If he did not love his ward," replied Mr. 
 Playfair, " he would be less than human. Every 
 body loves her, and when she is called hence 
 amongst her kindred of the skies, the angels will 
 greet her, not as a stranger, but beloved com- 
 panion, who had been detached from the 
 heavenly ranks for a season, to teach earth
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 129 
 
 better things than mortals could have learned 
 without her. Madam, you know my opinion ; 
 I have often told you that the young people are 
 bound in cords of affection for each other, which 
 it will be a heart-break to dissever. Your son 
 may not suffer much ; the world lies before him; 
 he will soon go to the University, and find new 
 friends as well as amusements ; but not so the 
 gentle, the tender Zorilda, of whose happiness 
 you seem to make small account. May I ask 
 what are your intentions respecting her ? She is 
 already a woman in growth, and her acquire- 
 ments would do honour to any age ; believe me, 
 the danger increases daily, and an indissoluble 
 engagement may bind your son in chains, which 
 having forged yourself, vou could not desire him 
 to break ; you would not have him act disho- 
 nourably, and sully his name for ever in the 
 eyes of virtue and delicacy." 
 
 « Nonsense ! Mr. Playfair," said Mrs. Hart- 
 land, with vehemence, " virtue and delicacy in- 
 deed ! There would be much of these fine qua- 
 lities required to make me keep my temper, if I 
 feared the fulfilment of your prediction. I 
 must say that, after so many years passed in my 
 g 5
 
 130 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 family, I might naturally expect that you would 
 enter a little more into the feelings of a mother, 
 and the interests of our house ; but truly, gra- 
 titude is a rare return now-a-days for the most 
 valuable friendship. I cannot conceive why 
 you should not see the impossibility of a mar- 
 riage between Algernon, the stay, the support, 
 I may surely add, the heir apparent, of a noble 
 house, and an orphan out-cast. Who is Zo- 
 rilda?" 
 
 Mr. Play fair's cheek burned with honest in- 
 dignation, but he determined to control him- 
 self, and calmly replied : — 
 
 " The period of our separation. Madam, is 
 drawing near, and I do not wish to embitter 
 the last moments of sojournment under your 
 roof by useless inquiries into the measure of 
 my gratitude. For kindness I am always ac- 
 knowledging, but if you allude to my pecuniary 
 obligations, which if I mistake not, take the 
 lead in your estimate of favours conferred, I 
 must beg leave to observe that I have dearly 
 earned my salary as tutor to your son, and may 
 perhaps be presumptuous enough to think that,
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 131 
 
 on casting up the amount of mutual benefit, the 
 balance of debt may lie against you. But we 
 were talking of a worthier theme ; you inquire 
 of me, Who is Zorilda? I am sure if you 
 who introduced her here are ignorant of her 
 birth and parentage, it would be difficult for me 
 to have discovered them. I can only say that 
 whoever her parents may be, they are enviable 
 as having given being to such a creature, and 
 pitiable for having lost her. The only particle 
 of rebellion in her whole soul against the wis- 
 dom of that Providence to which she bows in all 
 things else with meek submission, may be traced 
 in the anguish which she endures on the score 
 of her mysterious history. Her suspicions have 
 been long confirmed. She knows that she is 
 not your child, and is likewise aware of the ob- 
 scure destiny from which she was redeemed, 
 through a money price paid by you. 6 Alas ! ' 
 she often exclaims to me, ' what have I done to 
 deserve this cruel punishment ? Am I one ol 
 those who fall under condemnation for the sins 
 of their forefathers ? Why am I a cast-av. 
 Is it like the abundant mercy of a gracious God,
 
 132 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 who sendeth rain on the just and the unjust 
 with prodigal bounty, thus to visit a guildess 
 being so severely ? Death would be preferable 
 to this brand of disgrace. It is like the mark 
 set upon Cain, and shame overwhelms me when 
 I think of my lot. Yes, dear Mr. Playfair, 
 there is a worm which dieth not, gnawing in- 
 cessantly at my heart's core.' 
 
 " In this way, Madam, does Zorilda pour 
 out her grief to me. You know nothing of it, 
 for she thinks it her duty not to broach a sub- 
 ject which you have never touched upon with 
 her. She is wretched as she is lovely and vir- 
 tuous ! Spare her, I conjure you, and let not 
 her feelings be wounded ; you may have to an- 
 swer for her life. When I leave Henbury, I 
 may be able to devise some scheme for the fu- 
 ture. I have a sister who lives in Switzerland, 
 and I will—" 
 
 Just as Mr. Playfair uttered these words, the 
 door opened, and Zorilda entered the room, ra- 
 diant with bloom, such as the breath of morn 
 dapples on the velvet cheek of youth. Her long 
 dark eye-lashes were moistened by a tear, and
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 133 
 
 looked like the silky grass which waves on the 
 streamlet's verge before the sun has smiled 
 away the dew-drop which glitters through its 
 graceful fringes, while with light and gentle step 
 she pressed forward to Mrs. Hartland, holding 
 in her hand a bunch of half-blown roses. 
 
 u Here is my first offering from the little tree 
 which Algernon brought me last year, from 
 Marchdale Court ; I have kept it secret to sur- 
 prise dear Mamma." 
 
 It was an unlucky moment, and the associa- 
 tion of ideas produced by the few words which 
 Zorilda had spoken, was at that instant pecu- 
 liarly unfortunate. Mrs. Hartland forced a re- 
 luctant smile, accompanying a frigid " Thank 
 you," which chilled Zoe to the heart. 
 
 " What is the matter, dearest Mamma ? are 
 you ill ? or has any thing happened to displease 
 you?" 
 
 " Do not tease me, Zoe ; I was speaking on 
 business of importance with Mr. Playfair ; and, 
 my dear, you are growing too old to say Mam- 
 ma. I wish that you would begin to call me 
 Mrs. Hartland."
 
 134 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 Zorilda had an intuitive delicacy of character 
 which gave her sufficient command over her 
 feelings to prevent a scene. Mrs. Hartland was 
 too unlike her in almost every respect to have 
 ever been the friend of her choice ; but she was 
 the only one who had occupied the place of 
 Mother to her, and her whole soul was formed 
 to gratitude and affection ; but she had now for 
 the first time experienced repulse, and minds of 
 sensibility do not require to be told what misery 
 may be inflicted on a confiding spirit, by the 
 rejection of its tender sympathies. Zorilda was 
 stung to the quick, but restraining every ex- 
 pression of excitement, she glided hastily from 
 the apartment, carrying with her the unwelcome 
 flowers, which she perceived afforded no grati- 
 fication. 
 
 Without stopping to be informed whether 
 Algernon had returned from his ride, Zorilda 
 flew to an arbour of acacias at some distance 
 from he house, and throwing herself upon a 
 rustic seat, beneath its shade, gave vent to a full 
 tide of sorrow. When the oppression of her 
 bosom was in some measure relieved, she knelt
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 135 
 
 down, and clasping her hands with uplifted 
 energy of supplication, prayed for fortitude to 
 bear the ills which seemed impending. The 
 Divine Bid is never asked in vain, and Zorilda 
 rose strengthened by the fervency of her peti- 
 tion. Her soul was soothed and tranquillized, 
 and she thanked the Almighty for a friend who 
 had in some degree prepared her for events 
 which she now perceived in prospect. 
 
 " Yes ! Mr. Playfair has sometimes almost 
 appeared unkind, in dwelling on my misfor- 
 tunes, and prophecying this evil hour, when I 
 should no longer be loved by the protectors of 
 my youth. How should they love a purchased 
 stranger? The sad truth is now revealed. While 
 yet children, our infant sports caused no un- 
 easiness, and we enjoyed happiness unmixed 
 with care. We are children no longer, and I 
 am not wanted here. The unknown Zorilda, 
 the wandering gipsey, the dependent orphan, 
 is not considered meet companion for Algernon, 
 advanced to manhood. W T hat shall I do ? I 
 must quit the asylum of my youth, the loved 
 partner of my playful hours, the venerable
 
 136 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 instructor of my early days, and remove this 
 weight of anxiety from the breast of my bene- 
 factress." 
 
 " Never ! " exclaimed Algernon, who, rushing 
 impetuously into the arbour, caught Zorilda in 
 his arms. " What means this emotion ? Zoe, 
 you must be my wife, and then you shall stay 
 here as in your natural home. In the mean 
 time leave it all to me. You know my influence 
 with my mother ; I will come to the bottom of 
 these whims, and you shall hear no more of 
 them. ,, 
 
 " Speak not disrespectfully of your mother, 
 Algernon ; she is right, we should either of us 
 perhaps pursue the same course were we in her 
 situation. She once said that I was " nobody." 
 All ask " Who is she ? to which painful question 
 there is no answer to be given ; and why should 
 I delude myself any more. I thought the world 
 was kind because every one caressed me, but 
 when they did so I was a mere plaything. Those 
 who once cherished are now ashamed of me, 
 and this is what I can never bear. Mr. Playfair 
 has taught me many things, and your mother
 
 WHO IS SHE? 137 
 
 (oh ! must I never again call her mine) has 
 not neglected to make me useful. I will earn 
 my bread, and be a willing sacrifice if my de- 
 parture can restore the peace which I have dis- 
 turbed." 
 
 Algernon, though spoiled by indulgence, and 
 rendered vain by flattery, was as yet uncor- 
 rupted by the cold maxims of worldly wisdom, 
 and loved Zorilda with all the devotion of which 
 a narrow soul was capable. She was the confi- 
 dant of all his pains and pleasures. In her so- 
 ciety the former were always mitigated, the 
 latter constantly enhanced. He had gazed upon 
 her beautiful countenance, which reflected every 
 ray that cheered or cloud that darkened his own 
 from infancy to youth ; and he could not realize 
 to his mind the possibility of a separation from 
 a being so habitually necessary to his comfort. 
 
 " I will threaten my mother to shoot myself 
 if she plagues you any more," vociferated Al- 
 gernon ; and before the gentle Zoe could reply, 
 he darted from the arbour and ran to seek his 
 agitated parent; while Zorilda bent her steps 
 towards a walk where she thought it likely that
 
 138 
 
 TALES OF MY TIMF. 
 
 she should meet Mr. Playfair, in which hope 
 she was not disappointed. A conversation with 
 him was always sure to give her comfort ; and 
 never had she so much needed the balm of kind- 
 ness as on the present occasion. Zorilda wept 
 with bitterness as she expressed her grief and 
 surprize at the altered tone of Mrs. Hartland, 
 and an impatient desire to sacrifice every con- 
 sideration to that of removing a source of dis- 
 quietude from her breast. 
 
 " Softly, my dear child," said Mr. Playfair, 
 as he kindly pressed the hand of his pupil. 
 M We must not allow ourselves to act on mere 
 impulses, however amiable. There are pic- 
 turesque sorrows which must not be allowed to 
 tempt us out of the broad high way of a sober 
 march. We must not talk of victims and sa- 
 crifices, altars and shrines. Though I know 
 your heart, and how sincere are your wishes to 
 promote the happiness of others, even to the 
 forgetfulness of your own, I cannot permit you 
 to be romantic. There is a vanity in heroic 
 deeds which dims the purity of action. My 
 dear Zoc will act, I trust, in all things with a
 
 WHO IS SHE? 139 
 
 single purpose, and that purpose is to endea- 
 vour at the performance of duty, the most diffi- 
 cult part of which, in morals as in the field of 
 war, is to forbear. Your path is sown with 
 thorns, but I have often warned you against re- 
 pining. Believe and trust, pray to Him who 
 alone appoints the issue of events, for patience 
 to submit. You cannot see why you are thus 
 grieved — you do not understand why you are 
 a nameless, solitary, insulated being, unknown, 
 unclaimed, unconnected; while all whom you 
 see around are encircled in the social bands of 
 fond relationship. You do not behold the end. 
 A day may come in which you shall be suffered 
 to comprehend the mysteries which now obscure 
 your sight ; or, should it not please God to send 
 a lamp to your feet, you may learn to bless the 
 darkness by which you are enveloped, and re- 
 joice in that uncertainty which you now con- 
 sider your greatest misfortune. You must not 
 leave Henbury. Mrs. Hartland is bound to 
 protect you, and will do so. You will corre- 
 spond with me, and I will watch your interests 
 with an anxious eye."
 
 140 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 The ingenuous Zorilda confessed that some 
 pride and impetuosity were perhaps mingled 
 with better feelings, in her hasty resolution to 
 quit the friends of her youth ; and promising 
 implicit acquiescence in her Mentor's advice, 
 prepared to return to the house. In her way 
 thither she met Algernon, who hastened to in- 
 form her that he had settled every thing with 
 his mother. " I told her fairly that I would 
 never marry any one but you ; and that unless 
 she chose to quarrel with me, she must behave 
 as she used to do in former times towards you. 
 You know that I can do any thing with my 
 mother, and therefore you need not fret yourself 
 any more. Do dry your eyes, for I hate to see 
 you in this deplorable state. Come and feed 
 the pheasants, I have not been to visit them to 
 day." 
 
 The disinterestedness of a noble mind attri- 
 butes its own qualities to every other, and Zo- 
 rilda could perceive no motive in Algernon's 
 conduct at any time which would not have ac- 
 tuated her own in a similar situation. She 
 thanked him affectionately, but, gently rebuking
 
 WHO IS SHE? 141 
 
 him for not speaking more kindly of his mother, 
 added, 
 
 :; You vex her I am sure by talking of mar- 
 rying. You and I are very young ; we cannot 
 see into futurity. I do not like engagements 
 that bind one to do what perhaps the free heart 
 might reject at an after-time. You are going 
 away, and will find new pleasures in the world, 
 and of which you never dreamed before. You will 
 not, it may be, always think of poor Zoe as you 
 do now, and I could not be satisfied with the 
 cold performance of a vow. I shall never love 
 any beside Algernon, but you must be free." 
 
 Zorilda's tears gushed afresh as she uttered 
 these words; to which her youthful lover impa- 
 tiently replied, 
 
 u You know, Zoe, that I have no taste for this 
 larmoyante mood ; I love the laughing philoso- 
 phers; they are the only true ones after all. 
 Tottham, our bailiff, told me lately that my 
 godfather cannot live long. When he dies my 
 father succeeds to a certainty. Then I shall be 
 Lord Hautonville, with the higher title of March- 
 dale in prospect; and may do what I please.
 
 142 
 
 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 Now I please to marry you, and let me hear 
 what is to prevent me from following my in- 
 clination." 
 
 Zoe sighed. " Dear Algernon, I do not love 
 to build a life of happiness upon the death of 
 friends. I love you as you are, and do not like 
 the titles in your family half so well as your own 
 pretty name. Besides, I am sure from what 
 Mr. Play fair says of the world, that I should 
 never enjoy its gay pageants. I would rather 
 feed our gold and silver pheasants than see my- 
 self decorated with all the jewels winch you 
 often tell me shall one day be mine." 
 
 " You will not always think so," replied Al- 
 gernon ; " and I should be sorry if you did. 
 Nothing, it is said, is more annoying to a man of 
 fashion than a rustic wife who does not know 
 her situation." 
 
 " Alas ! " said the artless Zoe, " I do not like 
 the only specimen of high life that I have seen 
 amongst young men, and ever since you and the 
 Marquess of Turnstock have taken so many 
 rides together, you have picked up several new 
 notions unlike vour former self. I wish that his
 
 WHO IS SHE? 143 
 
 Lordship would go away, and leave our sober 
 conn try." 
 
 " That he will not do till the shooting season 
 is over," answered Algernon; "and I can tell 
 vou, that our acquaintance is only in the bud. 
 He is an Oxford man, and I expect that we shall 
 be much together. Here comes my mother. 
 She has made me promise not to call you my 
 wife, nor talk any more of our marriage in her 
 presence. So upon the principle of ' any thing 
 for a quiet life,' I shall indulge her during my 
 short remaining stay, and she will be all civility 
 and good-humour with you. Are you not much 
 obliged to me?" 
 
 Zorilda sighed again. Mrs. Hartland came 
 up ; took her son's arm ; discovered that some 
 overhanging branches required lopping, and 
 sent Zorilda off with affected unconstraint to call 
 the gardener, and see the job executed. 
 
 Mrs. Hartland now felt that her innocent 
 ward was a grievous encumbrance, but she re- 
 joiced to see her son attach himself con amore 
 to the society of the young nobleman of whom 
 we have made mention, and who had lately come
 
 144 TALES OF MY TJME. 
 
 to pay a visit in the neighbourhood of Hen- 
 bury. 
 
 " Mr. Playfair is right," said she to herself, 
 as she soliloquized on this subject, which now 
 absorbed all her thoughts : " I ought not to take 
 this thing to heart. Opposition only rivets faster 
 whatever we resist in a young mind, and matters 
 which are often spoiled by our interference, 
 would rectify themselves if we let them alone. 
 Algernon will be cured of his first love by the 
 sight of newer faces, and I am resolved to give 
 a hint to Lord Turnstock, to serve as a cue 
 hereafter, for ridiculing low matches, in the pre- 
 sence of my dear boy, who will grow wise in 
 time. Poor Zoe is useful to me, and I should 
 certainly lose a great deal by giving her up, be- 
 sides appearing cruel and capricious. No, no ; 
 all will come about in the end, and a little flir- 
 tation in early life never leaves lasting impres- 
 sion, now that the days of romance have vanish- 
 ed. My sister Gordon too, is a valuable corps 
 de reserve. She will come to visit me ere long, 
 and will dote on Zorilda, who is just formed in
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 145 
 
 the very mould for her. I will not torment my- 
 self: < All's well that ends well.' " 
 
 With the help of these reflections Mrs. Hart- 
 land allayed the ferment of her temper, and 
 went to give orders that due preparation should 
 be made for the Marquess, who was invited to 
 dine at Henbury, by way of securing his future 
 friendship for the Oxonian elect. How comi- 
 cally do people in middling life deceive them- 
 selves respecting the nature of an occasional in- 
 tercourse with the great ! A hum-drum pair, 
 in a remote situation, ransack the entire district 
 to get up a dull dinner at enormous cost, and 
 the noble stranger, for whom this unusual ex- 
 pense is incurred, does penance for a banquet 
 which is supposed to be as fine a thing in his 
 eyes as in those of his unpractised entertainers, 
 and to create a sense of obligation never to be 
 forgotten. The Marquess of Turnstock was 
 precisely one of those young men of fashion who 
 consider their presence ample requital for a 
 lavish expenditure of the best viands, and the 
 choicest wines ; and as the country afforded little 
 variety, an invitation from the Hartlands arrived 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 seasonably enough in aid of killing a day. A 
 cook was sent for to the county town ; and fish, 
 flesh, and fowls, in accredited rotation, were 
 provided from all quarters. The Marquess 
 brought three or four gentlemen, who were, he 
 said, " brother sportsmen," along with him ; and 
 Mrs. Hartland expressed herself as particularly 
 gratified with this indication of his desire to cul- 
 tivate an intimacy with her son. " It was such 
 an easy friendly act, and shewed how completely 
 his Lordship felt at home" that she augured 
 every thing from such a beginning. 
 
 Zorilda entreated leave to absent herself from 
 the dinner table, to which Mrs. Hartland at first 
 objected, from a secret hope that some one of 
 the strangers might be captivated by her beauty, 
 but was prevailed upon to acquiesce, from an ir- 
 resistible argument, that the eye of her protegee 
 might be advantageously employed behind the 
 scenes, in marshalling the servants, and regulat- 
 ing affairs in a house unaccustomed, generally 
 speaking, to any other than a plain family dinner. 
 
 Few motives are altogether unmixed. Zoril- 
 da's private incentive on the present occasion
 
 WHO IS SHE? 147 
 
 was to evade the awkwardness, which till of late 
 had never been practically distressing to her 
 feelings, of having no name. " The little gipsey," 
 " The Spanish girl," passed lightly over her ear 
 at an early period, but now planted a dagger in 
 her heart; and she courted solitude, flying from 
 the presence of even a casual guest. Mrs. Hart- 
 land, however, would not dispense with Zoe's 
 company at the tea-table, at which she was 
 obliged to preside ; but as the gentlemen were 
 not aware that any metal more attractive than 
 the society of Mrs. Hartland awaited them in 
 the drawing-room, they were slow in making 
 their appearance ; and when they did leave the 
 dining parlour, some of the party were certainly 
 not the best society themselves. Elate with 
 wine, they talked and laughed on their way up 
 stairs, in full demonstration of having sacrificed 
 too devoutly at the shrine of the rosy god ; but 
 when the drawing-room door was opened, and 
 Zorilda, glowing with modest loveliness, met 
 their astonished view, their boisterous mirth re- 
 ceived a sudden check, and they all seemed to 
 feel simultaneously, " how awful beauty is." 
 h 2
 
 148 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 The Marquess and his satellite wassail rs, 
 were struck with amazement at sight of the 
 vision which now presented itself to their eyes, 
 and appeared instinctively to avoid the tea-table 
 at which she sat. A sort of general introduc- 
 tion took place, in which no name, except that 
 of the Marquess, was distinctly heard ; while 
 Mr. Playfair, who had protracted his sitting be- 
 low stairs, in order to act, as far as hospitality 
 would permit, as a buff-stop on the festive gaiety 
 of his pupil, took his station on one side of Zo- 
 rilda, and Mr. Hartland took possession of a 
 chair on the other. Well pleased to find her- 
 self thus guarded, the timid Zoe smiled sweetly 
 on her supporters, and proceeded to perform 
 the mysteries of tea and coffee as priestess of 
 the rites. 
 
 The reader is not to understand that our 
 guests were inebriated. That expression con- 
 veys too strong a meaning. " Flushed with the 
 Tuscan grape," they were still compos, and after 
 a short pause the rumble of conversation, like 
 that of a mill-wheel, was heard again to succeed 
 a temporary suspension.
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 149 
 
 " My friend Forbes, Mrs. Hartland," said 
 Lord Turnstock, "is an Irishman, and we have 
 been bantering him on his country. I was just 
 making these gentlemen laugh with the story of 
 an old woman who came to me some time ago 
 requesting my interference to prevent her grand- 
 son, who had enlisted, from being sent to the 
 Island of Saints with his regiment. ' Oh my 
 Lord,' said she, i I shall never see my poor boy 
 again. They says as how that the Romans are 
 all romancing so furious in Hireland.' Was'nt 
 it excellent?" 
 
 Mrs. Hartland laughed heartily, and Mr. 
 Forbes, a very handsome fine young man, stepped 
 forward, still addressing her as Chairman of 
 the Committee in defence of his native Erin : 
 
 u I can allow them to amuse themselves, Mrs. 
 Hartland," said the young Hibernian. " I 
 grant that amongst vulgar people the peculiar 
 tone of my country, which you may have heard 
 called brogue, is not harmonious, but I would 
 fight it against your Somersetshire, Lancashire, 
 or Cornish dialects, any day in the year ; and as 
 for Irish character, it stands too high to need ray
 
 150 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 championship. Whether I turn my eyes to the 
 cabinet or the field, whether I contemplate scho- 
 larship or divinity, powers of penmanship or 
 conversation, I find myself standing on such 
 exalted ground that I can endure the merri- 
 ment of his Lordship with the calm dignity of 
 a lion, round whose head the harmless fly is 
 humming. He shall divert himself as much as 
 he likes with the Anglo-Irish, provided he sets 
 his hand and seal to the truth of my statement." 
 
 " You are too strong to need his Lordship's 
 vote," said Mr. Play fair ; " you have no occa- 
 sion to solicit, you may command assent ; at 
 least this is not the age for triumph over you. 
 Whichever way we turn Irishmen meet our 
 eyes in the first situations of the state ; and as 
 to the fair daughters of your Emerald Isle " 
 
 " In this company I withdraw their claim," 
 answered Mr. Forbes ; "at least I am forced to 
 be modest in asserting it." 
 
 Zorilda coloured violently; and the Marquess, 
 apparently apprehensive of not being considered 
 first actor in the scene, looked at his watch, 
 and ringing the bell, ordered his carriage, which
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 151 
 
 was in fact already at the door; then apolo- 
 gizing for the lateness of the hour to which he 
 had been detained by agreeable society, a ge- 
 neral leave taking succeeded, and the guests 
 departed without having exchanged three words 
 with her who had excited all their curiosity. 
 
 " Who is that magnificent girl, Hartland?" 
 said the Marquess, as he reached the hall door, 
 and got rid of the civilities of his elder host, who 
 stuck closely to his side all the way down stairs. 
 
 " Where was she during dinner-time ? " in- 
 quired Mr. Forbes. 
 
 " Why did you not apprize us of this rural 
 divinity?" asked young Cecil; "I should gladly 
 have paid her an earlier homage.'' 
 
 As these questions were put all in a breath, 
 Algernon contrived to evade them ; and in the 
 bustle of calling for hats, gloves, &c. they were 
 never answered. " She can hardly be a sister of 
 Hartland's, she is so unlike the family," said 
 Lord Turnstock. " I wonder you none of you 
 asked her name." " One would imagine that 
 she has not any name," replied one of his com- 
 panions; " probably the truth is, that this coun-
 
 152 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 try belle is affianced to the heir apparent of 
 Henbury, and the youth is an Othello. I saw 
 him frown like Jupiter while we gazed at his 
 beloved; and I am sure that the fellow will 
 dream to-night of rope-ladders, post chaises and 
 four, elopements, and the blacksmith of Gretna 
 Green." 
 
 The Marquess laughed, and fell asleep. Some 
 of his associates followed his example, and thought 
 no more of Zorilda till they reached Thornton 
 Abbey ; but Cecil and Forbes were not of the 
 number. 
 
 " Did you hear the servants say who that 
 young lady is whom I saw at Mr. Hartland's? " 
 said his Lordship to his valet when he retired 
 to his bed-chamber. 
 
 " No, my Lord, I took no notice, except that 
 I recollect somebody said that a Virginia nightin- 
 gale, which I saw in a cage, belonged to Miss 
 Zoe, or some such name ; perhaps she may be 
 the young lady that your Lordship means." 
 
 " Aye i' faith, she is worthy of a Grecian 
 appellation," muttered the Marquess, as his 
 servant went out of the room. " This fair in-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 153 
 
 cognita is certainly an exotic, and the banks of 
 the Ilissus may have given her birth. She 
 would make a noise in London, there is no 
 doubt of that." With this sentence the young 
 Nobleman concluded his meditations ; and hav- 
 ing desired to be called betimes to go upon a 
 shooting expedition, consigned himself to re- 
 pose. The morning brought its own pursuits, 
 and Zorilda was either effaced from memory, or 
 so little was elicited respecting her that inquiry 
 ceased, and the party at Thornton Abbey dis- 
 persed in all directions. 
 
 The present age is one of too much refine- 
 ment for trouble of any kind; and we have 
 long been spared the slavish toil of thinking for 
 ourselves. We talk indeed of/ree-thinkers, and 
 make an unusual stir about liberty of opinion ; 
 but that is a facon de parler which satisfies, 
 while in reality we are more completely led 
 than at any former period of the world. " What- 
 ever facilitates weakens." The human mind is 
 strengthened by labour ; and now that we have 
 grown too polished to work, we cannot lock for 
 strong judgment ; consequently individuality is 
 h5
 
 154 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 not the character of our time, and we are accus- 
 tomed to praise or abuse en masse. Zorilda 
 with a title would have set the capital on fire, 
 and filled every eye and tongue ; but Zorilda, 
 untrumpeted, unknown, was soon forgotten. 
 Name is everything ; whether of player or 
 preacher, beauty or book, a fashionable paper 
 or review sounds the key note, and the chorus 
 is universal. 
 
 Preparations were now advancing at Hen- 
 bury for Algernon's departure to Oxford; and 
 the desolation of Zoe's heart may be more 
 easily imagined than described. To lose the 
 beloved companion of her life, her more than 
 self, seemed wretchedness enough for mortal lot ; 
 but in parting with Mr. Playfair too, she was 
 deprived of the only solace which might have 
 remained in her affliction, namely, that of talk- 
 ing over the subject of it with a true friend. 
 Mr. Hartland was good-natured, and had always 
 been affectionate in his bearing; but there was 
 11 no speculation in his eye," no intelligence in 
 his mind. He was a mere recipient, and too 
 dull even to reflect with vividness the thoughts
 
 WHO IS SHE? 155 
 
 of another. With Mrs. Hartland, Zorilda had 
 ceased to communicate, except on household 
 affairs. 
 
 Young and shrinking sensibility, like the open- 
 ing rose, will only diffuse its fragrance while we 
 refrain from rudely touching its delicate fabric ; 
 once decompose the tender structure by unhal- 
 lowed finger, and no skill of chemic art can 
 restore its organization. 
 
 The dread hour arrived, and Zorilda, con- 
 vulsed with grief, saw the gate close upon all 
 that she best loved on earth.
 
 156 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 r,- 
 
 That he approves the common iiar, Fame, 
 
 Who speaks him thus at Rome." Shakspeare. 
 
 How wisely, how mercifully is the future 
 hidden from our view ! Who could bear to 
 look into the book of fate, and see the blighted 
 hopes, the unfulfilled expectations, which await 
 all human dreamers ? But though ever ready 
 with sufficient vain glory to refer each prosper- 
 ous issue to our own prudence and sagacity, we 
 cautiously avoid to charge ourselves with the 
 least co-operation in unfortunate results. Suc- 
 cess constitutes the hero, and it is with the tri- 
 umphant only that we desire to identify our- 
 selves. 
 
 Algernon was now sent forth to make his 
 debut in society, and we shall see how strictly
 
 157 
 
 his progress coincides with the previous train- 
 ing of his mind. 
 
 He loved Zorilda with as much fervour as 
 his nature would permit, and therefore his 
 tears flowed in copious stream as he bid her 
 farewell. Poor Mrs. Hartland ascribed the 
 grief of her son to his separation from her ma- 
 ternal arms. She loved him with entireness 
 of senseless devotion, and fondly flattered her- 
 self that she was in return the principal object 
 of his affections. " Dear boy, he will in vain 
 look round for his indulgent mother/' sobbed 
 the afflicted parent; but even the love of Zorilda, 
 which was by far the most powerful impression 
 on Algernon's heart, did not long exclude the 
 joy which gained upon his short-lived sorrow 
 with every mile of increasing distance from 
 Henbury. He was going to be his own master 
 in a wider sense than he had ever experienced. 
 He might do as he pleased. Mr. Playfair's vi- 
 gilant eye would no longer watch every move- 
 ment, and he should meet again with the asso- 
 ciates whose short sojournment in the neigh- 
 bourhood of his father's house had given him
 
 158 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 so much pleasure, besides forming many other 
 similar acquaintances. It was not Algernon's 
 design from the first to distinguish himself in 
 any kind of scholarship. The assiduity of his 
 tutor had done something, but even the best 
 talents will not achieve learning unaccompanied 
 by application. Young Hartland intended to 
 render his college course as little irksome as 
 possible, and possessed the means of realizing 
 his views. There is no description of person, 
 generally speaking, so well supplied with money 
 as an only son of a private family, in whom, as 
 the sole object of pride and solicitude, all paren- 
 tal effort is concentrated. 
 
 While the young nobleman issues forth de- 
 pending on his title, and frequently on that 
 alone for consideration; the child, it may be, 
 of a half ruined house, hemmed in on every side 
 by mortgages and bonds, and relying on Jewish 
 facilities of accommodation for keeping up the 
 present ball, to the destruction of future com- 
 petency ; the son and heir of middle life sets out 
 with purse well lined. He has no " lordship " 
 with which to gild poverty, but must pay his
 
 159 
 
 way, and transfer to his pocket the popularity 
 which he is not provided with any other secret 
 for securing to his person. Algernon was plen- 
 tifully supplied, and as soon as he found him- 
 self unrestrained by the expostulations of Mr. 
 Playfair, he began to spend so lavishly that his 
 rooms were soon the favourite lounge, and he 
 found his acquaintance universally courted. 
 His vanity was flattered, and he never suspected 
 the reality of the case, but gave into the delu- 
 sive belief that he was sought after for his agree- 
 able qualifications. He wrote letters to his 
 mother which delighted her. They spoke of 
 viscounts, earls, and marquesses, as the familiar 
 companions of his hours; and generally con- 
 cluded with reminding her that such excellent 
 society as it was his good fortune to have got 
 into, had only one counteracting evil attending 
 on its pleasures, which was expense. 
 
 " How considerate is our dear fellow ! " said 
 Mrs. Hartland ; " but he must not be fettered 
 by too rigid an economy in the opening scene. 
 Frugality, if necessary, may come hereafter; but 
 first impressions are of the highest importance,
 
 160 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 and the most useful connections are often made 
 in school and college days. A private educa- 
 tion has hitherto deprived my son of this advan- 
 tage, and it is therefore doubly requisite to 
 stretch a point at present, and supply him libe- 
 rally. I have foreseen all this, and laid by a 
 little preserve. We may pinch at home, and 
 ought to do so, that we may not be said to burn 
 our candle at both ends; but our boy must be en- 
 abled to hold up his head amongst the best of 
 them." 
 
 Mr. Hartland groaned assent, and the amia- 
 ble Zoe rejoiced in an opportunity of contri- 
 buting her mite to Algernon's comfort at Ox- 
 ford, by courting all sorts of privation at Hen- 
 bury during his absence. 
 
 It is not surprising that an outfit regulated 
 by these principles, inspired a belief of riches, 
 and obtained for the freshman such a reputation 
 for affluence that he was surrounded at once as 
 a honey-pot is by flies ; while credulity supports 
 the illusion from one generation to another, 
 that a titled herd collected by such means, are 
 to be the props of after life, compensating by
 
 WHO IS SHE? 161 
 
 future patronage for the loss of independence 
 incurred in the pursuit of their friendship. 
 The bubble bursts, the gull is undeceived, but 
 as experience seldom rectifies the confidence of 
 hope, a few exceptions are always sufficient to 
 make men reject the general rule, and expect 
 to find themselves added to the " glorious mi- 
 nority" of fortune's favoured exceptions. Alas ! 
 the prizes are few, and the blanks are many in 
 the lottery of life, and those are the wisest who 
 speculate the least on lucky chances. 
 
 Algernon was quickly initiated, and became 
 the soul and centre of every scheme which had 
 pleasure for its aim and object. He gave the 
 best champagne, pulled the best oar, rode the 
 best horse, was always ready to take up a bet, 
 or accept a boxing challenge, and wasted twice 
 as much money as any one else thought of ex- 
 pending, in whatever was the amusement of the 
 day ; seeming to render compensation to him- 
 self for the long fast which he had undergone, 
 by devouring pleasure not only with a knife and 
 fork, but a spoon to boot. He wrote frequently
 
 162 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 to Zorilda, and received letters from her in re- 
 turn. 
 
 Mrs. Hartland fretted at the correspondence, 
 but had encouraged her son in the habit of as- 
 suming authority to such a degree, that she 
 feared to resist his will : and was obliged to to- 
 lerate what she had lost all power to control. 
 
 Algernon's letters were at first filled with 
 wishes and laments ; the pain of parting ; the 
 joy of re-union ; interspersed with animated ac- 
 counts of new scenes and associates. After a 
 time he became less punctual, and proposed 
 that Zoe should not balance too strictly the 
 debtor and creditor sides of their correspon- 
 dence, but write without waiting for replies, 
 alleging occupation at his studies as a cause for 
 the request. Whatever Algernon suggested 
 was right in Zoe's opinion, and as she was only 
 called on to renounce a self-indulgence, though 
 the greatest which she could enjoy while sepa- 
 rated from her friend, she acquiesced without 
 a murmur, though not without a sigh. 
 
 A longer silence than usual occurred, and
 
 WHO IS SHE? 163 
 
 Zoe could not sleep from agitation, fearing that 
 indisposition might occasion the delay. At last 
 the often- wished-for packet arrived ; but though 
 well filled, and giving details of what Algernon 
 called "pleasant parties," it was the least sa- 
 tisfactory which Zorilda had ever received. She 
 read it over and over, yet was less pleased at 
 each re-perusal. We shall give our readers an 
 opportunity of trying how far they sympathize 
 with poor Zoe's feelings, by transcribing this 
 letter as a specimen of our young Oxonian's im- 
 provement since he quitted home : 
 " Dearest Zoe, 
 " I am guilty of a long pause, and you are 
 very angry ; but you little know how my time 
 is taken up. We have had several rowing 
 matches, and I have been taking lessons from 
 some of the fcmcy. Every day confirms the dis- 
 agreeable conviction that I am half a century 
 behind my contemporaries. What a cursed 
 folly it is not to send boys to a public school ! 
 If I had been despatched to Eton instead of 
 having been tied to my mother's apron-string 
 all my days, I should not have every thing to
 
 164 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 learn, as is my case at present. However, they 
 say I am an apt scholar, and I do not despair 
 of being soon up with the best of them here. 
 
 " The little Marquess did not return till ten 
 days ago. He received me quite like a brother, 
 and we are a great deal together. He says he 
 should not know me again, I have lost so much 
 of the i country bumpkin* already. By the bye, 
 we had a very pleasant party at his rooms the 
 other night, but you cannot imagine how foolish 
 I was made to look, about you. 
 
 " I wish to heaven you had a name, for it is 
 quite confounding to be asked at every turn, 
 4 Who is she ? ' without being able to cret rid 
 of farther inquiry, by such a simple answer as 
 can be given of every body except yourself from 
 the royal family down to one's washerwoman. 
 If I knew the name of the gipsey from whom my 
 good papa and mamma ran away with you, I 
 would call you after her ; but I assure you that 
 rather than encounter another such attack as I 
 have endured in your service, I shall christen 
 you, so prepare for being called Miss Hazle- 
 moor, or Moor, if vou like the monosyllable
 
 WHO IS SHE? 165 
 
 better, on the principle of the old song which 
 Rachael sings, with a line in it something like 
 this following : 
 
 " For the least said, the sooner amended ;" 
 
 and amended it will all be one of these days, 
 when I marry you. It will little signify when 
 you are my wife — perchance a titled one — 
 what name you were known by before. Do not 
 be cast down, my pretty Zo. I have premised, 
 you know, to raise you from your present ob- 
 scurity, and I can tell you, it is no small proof 
 of my love, that I do not mean to forget my 
 engagement ; but I must tell you how they fell 
 upon me the other night. 
 
 " Turnstock gave champagne, and some five 
 or six assembled by appointment at his rooms. 
 We were going on very gaily, when my evil 
 genius put it into the Marquess's head to turn 
 shortly round, and say to me, ' Hartland, who 
 the devil is that fair enchantress whom your mo- 
 ther has got cooped up at Henbury ; not your 
 sister, I presume, eh ? ' 
 
 ' ; Unprepared for the question, I was com- 
 pletely at a nonplus, and losing all presence of
 
 ]66 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 mind, I hummed, and hawed, and stammered 
 out — Zorilda. 
 
 " * A fine romantic appellation truly,' said 
 his Lordship ; 6 Donna Zorilda ! but to what 
 noble house does she belong ? ' 
 
 " < I cannot tell,' answered I. ( To tell you 
 the truth, a mystery hangs over her birth which 
 I am not permitted to unravel.' 
 
 " { Oh ! I cry you mercy,' replied the Mar- 
 quess ; ' I shall not make farther inquisition ; I 
 see how it is, s A rose by any other name would 
 smell as sweet;' so says the poet. A little 
 mystery, they say is never amiss. Now it is 
 a Miss, and nobody knows who, upon the pre- 
 sent occasion; but n'importe; Zorilda is a lovely 
 girl ; and Zoe, as your servants call her, is bet- 
 ter still, associated, as are those three letters, 
 with all the nectar and ambrosia of Grecian 
 son<>\ We will place the Amaranth wreath on 
 Zoe's brow, and drink to her health in a bumper 
 of champagne. Come, Hartknd, fill your 
 o-lass. You shall not undergo any farther ca- 
 techism. You are too wise a man to marry an 
 4 inexpressive she : ' and as for a little of the
 
 167 
 
 doubtful in any other relation of life, there is no 
 need of taking it to heart.' 
 
 c; Now I know that all this sort of thing will 
 fret and vex you, but never mind, we will talk 
 of other matters. Turnstock is uncommonly 
 clever, and I can assure you that we have often 
 very deep conversation. He brought a young 
 man with him from town who received his edu- 
 cation here, but as he wants money and has 
 plenty of brains, he has taken to writing for the 
 Reviews. The little Marquess talks of getting 
 up a periodical here under his own inspection. 
 It is to be called ' The Freeman ; ' so if you see it 
 advertised you will know whence it springs. 
 We had a sort of rehearsal last night, when 
 some contributions were brought in. A friend 
 of mine had a hit against his Lordship which 
 made me laugh. The former brought an Essay 
 on the Paradise Lost, which was read, but the 
 Marquiss condemned it. < No. Caulfield, that 
 will not do/ said he. ( I do not patronize your 
 sentiments on Milton. You must try vour pen 
 at something else/ 
 
 " ' I thought, my Lord/ answered Caulfield,
 
 168 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 'that we were to write for the Freeman, but 
 I find that it is for the Bondsman.' 
 
 " 'Free or Bond, I shall not insert your Essay, 
 my good fellow,' answered his Lordship. < I 
 mean to have this my own way. I set my face 
 against all prosing; not a word of any poet 
 older than Byron of immortal fame ; and I will 
 give a prize of his works, bound in russia, to 
 whoever brings me the best satire on our mo- 
 dern novels, which are growing so decidedly 
 moral, metaphysical, and soporific, that I would 
 as lief sit down to Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity 
 as open a volume of any of the last half dozen 
 which have issued from the press. I think I 
 shall write a novel myself, and call it ' Re-ac- 
 tion ; or, the Extinguisher. 5 
 
 " You would not like any of my friends I am 
 afraid, who are certainly not religious men. The 
 Marquess cavils at holy writ : 1 was going to 
 stand up its advocate, but found it better to 
 hold my tongue. There are many good people 
 here, but Turnstock calls them Spoonies, and I 
 do not feel any ambition to be ridiculed as one 
 of the fraternity. Remember that I am only
 
 169 
 
 talking of my own set ; so my father need not 
 take alarm, and accuse me of a libel on his 
 favourite Oxford. Things, however, are changed 
 every where since his day. The Marquess de- 
 clares that religion is only a political consi- 
 deration now with strong neads. The march 
 of mind, he says, has outstripped superstition 
 and all her train. I do not say that he is right, 
 for I am not much versed as yet in matters of 
 this nature. The miserable error of bringing 
 me up at home has prevented me, amongst many 
 other things, from knowing what general opinion 
 really is. In fact, Turnstock, who gives me 
 more insight into these subjects than any one 
 else, and who ought to be good authority, is elo- 
 quent in decrying all narrow limitations of sect 
 or nation. He says that all mankind should be 
 considered as a great family, claiming equal 
 rights, and entitled to equal privileges ; that all 
 qualifications which exclude any individual from 
 the attainment of power are infractions of na- 
 tural justice ; and all religious establishments 
 are the offspring of persecution. He speaks 
 l>eautifully, and uses very convincing arguments. 
 vol. i. i
 
 170 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 For instance, he says, that to be born and to 
 die are common to the whole created species, 
 and no favour or partiality distinguishes one man 
 from another in these two extreme events. The 
 same pangs usher every mortal into existence — 
 helpless, naked, and like his fellows in all things. 
 Death again sweeps away irrespectively the beg- 
 gar and the king, who both lie down in the 
 grave where all their thoughts perish, and both 
 are resolved alike into dust. 'What right then,' 
 reasons Turnstock, c has man to play such antic 
 tricks before high heaven, and parcel out the in- 
 termediate term so unequally in his generation, 
 that some shall lord it triumphantly, while 
 others starve ? Some rule with tyrannous sway, 
 while thousands cringe in chains, and are forced 
 to obey the few who usurp dominion over them?' 
 I wish that you could hear him declaim upon 
 these topics. Caulfield, who is always ready with 
 some vexatious question or remark, but who 
 had listened, as I thought, with as much satis- 
 faction as I did myself to the whole harangue 
 vesterday evening, asked rudely enough at its 
 close, < And pray, good my Lord, why are you
 
 WHO IS SHE? 171 
 
 the Marquess of Turnstock ? Your guardians 
 went through a tedious litigation to procure the 
 title for you which another claimed, and 
 fiercely contested. Though not called, like 
 Cincinnatus, exactly from the plough, your 
 Lordship's situation now is very different from 
 what it was. Yet you do not object to these 
 inequalities in your own case ! ' 
 
 " Turnstock looked contemptuously round, and 
 silenced the inquirer in a summary manner, 
 c Pooh, pooh, Caulfield. You are like a fly, for 
 ever buzzing in one's ears. It is a pity you do 
 not enter at Cambridge, ad eundem ; you are a 
 Wrangler without the trouble of learning, and 
 all competitors will make way for you.' 
 
 " There was a great laugh against Caulfield, 
 and so ended the dispute. I have enlisted under 
 Turnstock 's banner. I like his Epicurean phi- 
 losophy, and think that his doctrines would tend 
 to render mankind a far happier race than they 
 are. Remember what I told you about writing 
 with lemon-juice, and be sure to hold all my 
 letters to the fire after you have read them 
 through. Like Janus we must wear two faces, 
 i2
 
 172 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 you know, while we are watched, A day will 
 come when we may defy all vigilance, and in- 
 terchange our thoughts in ink of any colour. 
 Farewell, my Zoe, how I long to see you ! " &c. 
 
 Zorilda vainly attempted to counteract the 
 influences which she found increasing reason to 
 perceive were exercised over Algernon's mind 
 to the injury of his character. Her young heart 
 poured forth its entreating eloquence, but the 
 poison had begun to work, and she had not suf- 
 ficient power to arrest its deadly progress. In 
 vain did she appeal to the memory of happier 
 days in strains like the following, which we ex- 
 tract from one of her letters: 
 
 " Oh, my Algernon ! is it for this that I have 
 submitted to the mean device of dissimulation, 
 and joined in a plot to deceive your mother by 
 writing that which she is not to see ? When I 
 complied with your proposal to adopt this mode 
 of frustrating her penetration, it was that I 
 might spare her pain, and exert the power 
 which I fondly imagined I possessed over your 
 mind to your advantage, by constantly remind-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 173 
 
 ing you of the lessons which our dear and valued 
 preceptor left us as a parting legacy. Algernon, 
 I am punished for forgetting that we must not 
 do evil in hope of future good. Yet after once 
 o'erstepping the barrier which separates truth 
 from falshood, the noble ingenuousness of virtue 
 for the mean accommodations of artifice, how 
 difficult to regain the track of probity and 
 honour ! I feel with bitterness, how greatly I 
 have erred ; yet before I for ever abjure this 
 dishonest method of conveying to you my secret 
 thoughts, I will for once express the anguish of 
 my heart, as I trace in your altered language a 
 different Algernon from him who was the bro- 
 ther of my infant years, the beloved friend of 
 riper age. Have you, too, become ashamed of 
 the nameless Zorilda? and do you ask ' Who is 
 she ? ' with scornful reproach ? Then indeed 
 is my cup of affliction filled to overflowing. 
 Talk no more of a day to come, when raised to 
 the dignity of your wife. That question, which 
 has been the blight of my Spring — the spectre 
 of my solitude — the besetting demon of a cease- 
 Jess persecution ; shall no longer scare me with
 
 1?4 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 humiliation and debasement. Zorilda will never 
 purchase repose at Algernon's cost. How can 
 such things be ? Does not true affection iden- 
 tify itself with the object on which it rests? 
 Would not < Who was she?' be a death knell 
 of my happiness still more appalling to my heart 
 than the inquiry which now condemns me alone 
 to obscurity and shame ! Never will I repay 
 by base ingratitude the kindness which fostered 
 a houseless child of want. I will fulfil my sad 
 destiny, and pray for courage to meet the sting 
 which awaits me. I shall be assisted from above, 
 and Mr. Playfair's counsel will support my tot- 
 tering steps. The path of duty is often one of 
 difficulty and fatigue, but it is safe. There are 
 no precipices along the way. 
 
 " Algernon, my heart is breaking, and my sel- 
 fish pen lingers amongst its sorrows, instead of 
 exercising what little energy remains in the en- 
 deavour to recal you from a road which will 
 lead to destruction if you continue to pursue its 
 course. You have fallen amongst evil advisers, 
 who are beginning their work by shaking those 
 principles which Mr. Playfair says are our only
 
 WHO IS SHE? 175 
 
 pillars of strength — our only rock and refuge 
 in the hour of temptation. Your self-denying 
 parents intend to sacrifice the joy of holding 
 you in their arms this summer, that you may 
 profit by Lord Turnstock's invitation to accom- 
 pany him on the Continent — profit did I say ? 
 Alas ! how foreign from my thoughts is the 
 idea which that word conveys. No, dear Alger- 
 non, you will never gain by his example, and I 
 weep as I contemplate your growing attach- 
 ment to his society. 1 find in all your letters 
 now something that spoils the pleasure which I 
 used to feel in talking to you. Why is this, 
 unless because the sympathy which was wont to 
 knit our pursuits is fading away ? 
 
 " You tell me, too, that I must change ; you 
 say that I am a rustic — that I am not skilled in 
 music — that I am too independent, and want 
 that softness (perhaps from your description I 
 should rather call it langour), which you tell me 
 is the most attractive feature of female charac- 
 ter. Alas ! that I am very imperfect and very 
 ignorant, a very cursory glance into my own 
 heart too fatally convinces me every day ; but
 
 176 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 my self reproach does not fall where you would 
 point it. Why should I desire to be no longer 
 a rustic ? Is not the retirement in which I live 
 better suited to the unhappy — the nameless or- 
 phan, than those scenes in which i Who is 
 she ? ' would be the brand of degradation ? Is 
 not my simple song, to which you once loved to 
 sit and listen, adapted to my lowly lot, and the 
 natural language of a sorrowing heart ? Why 
 should I regret that I am not versed in the me- 
 chanism of instrumental music. What have I 
 to do with an admiring audience ? 
 
 " Yet do not believe me insensible to the 
 charms of melody. I am young, and might im- 
 prove with opportunity. To make the harp 
 respond to the sadness which dwells within, 
 would be a delightful companionship, but it is 
 denied to me, and I must not repine. Oh no, 
 there is but one murmur in my breast, but one 
 murmur on my tongue, and from my pen. 
 
 " Why am I thus forsaken? Why this home- 
 less, houseless, friendless thing? This is the 
 rankling thorn — the sharp arrow which festers 
 and corrodes my vitals — which haunts me in
 
 177 
 
 visions of the night, and paralizes every energy 
 of soul by day. All other ills I can bear ; and 
 believe that they are good for me. You tell me 
 that the pretty folly, the imploring weakness, 
 the passive non-resistance of Lord Turnstock*s 
 sister, are fascinating ; and you want me to copy 
 without having seen the original. Much as I 
 love to try and please you, and grateful as I feel 
 for your wish to render me more capable of 
 doing so, I cannot promise docility in this re- 
 spect. Dear Mr. Playfair's words are engraven 
 on my memory, and his very last letter repeats 
 them. He bids me follow nature, and avoid 
 every species of affectation. He reminds me 
 that there are. two glossaries which interpret the 
 same words by different methods ; that the timid 
 supplication, the credulous innocence, the ner- 
 vous sensibility, so captivating in a young beauty, 
 are explained by far other terms in wives, sis- 
 ters, daughters, and known in them by the 
 harsher epithets of troublesome helplessness, ig- 
 norance, and fatiguing egotism, when the va- 
 pouring dreams of a youthful gallant are so- 
 i 5
 
 178 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 bered into the honest but too often uncourteous 
 phrase of husband, father, brother. 
 
 " This advice may seem to have no application 
 to one who is a stranger to all the endearing 
 relations of life, who has never known the bless- 
 ing of those tender ties which bind the heart 
 in sweet, yet wholesome, bondage ; but truth is 
 always the same. Let me pursue my homely 
 track unseen. It will lead me to the quiet grave, 
 where all my sorrows will have an end, but oh ! 
 my dearest Algernon, beware of the vortex into 
 which you are gliding; your parents can not sup- 
 ply your increasing demands upon their re- 
 sources. They already feel your extravagance. 
 Fly temptation, while it is still in your power to 
 break the spell. You are undone if you ac- 
 company the Marquess. Oh ! do not plunge us 
 in despair. Mr. Playfair has the worst opinion 
 of your associates, and I believe has written a 
 warning letter to your father, suggested by his 
 knowledge of Lord Turnstock's general cha- 
 racter ; I write in secret, and this will reach you 
 by a private hand ; farewell," Sec.
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 179 
 
 Zoe's voice would once have roused Alger- 
 non to any enterprize, or deterred him from any 
 undertaking; but though he loved her better 
 than all things else, she was distant, pleasure 
 present. Her melancholy forebodings cast a 
 gloom over his mind, and at length grew so dis- 
 tasteful, that he resolved to adopt a new lan- 
 guage in his correspondence with her ; pretend- 
 ing to be influenced by her advice, he promised 
 to be on his guard against the allurements which 
 she dreaded, assuring her that, sensible of the 
 errors into which young men might be led, he 
 designed to be very particular in his selection 
 of acquaintance, should he feel himself so far 
 engaged to accompany his friends to the Conti- 
 nent, that he could not break through the ar- 
 rangement. The heart is of easy faith, when 
 it wishes to believe, and the innocent Zorilda, 
 who knew nothing of the world, except what 
 she had heard of its snares from the instructor 
 of her youth, seized with joy on the happy 
 omen ; and the roses of health again bloomed 
 on her pallid cheek, with all the freshness of
 
 180 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 " Beloved Algernon," she would exclaim, 
 while training the jessamine which was taught 
 to decorate his favourite seat, or visiting with 
 thoughtful tenderness the animals committed to 
 her care, " you will never be led away from 
 these pure delights. The blandishments of vice 
 shall vainly attempt to dazzle, and its wicked 
 artifices to entangle, my Algernon, who will re- 
 turn unpolluted by the influence of bad exam- 
 ple. These sweet flowers will have new charms 
 for him, and I shall proudly deliver up my trust 
 when I show him these birds of brilliant wing, 
 his dogs, and all his play- fellows so grown, so 
 beautified, under my guardianship." 
 
 Zorilda's hours now glided swiftly as the wea- 
 ver's shuttle. She was full of employment, and 
 Algernon was the inspiring object of all she did 
 or imagined ; improving daily in loveliness of 
 face and form, and glowing with animation, she 
 seemed by her presence to cheer creation, and, 
 like the blessed sun, to dispel every cloud that 
 gathered en the horizon. 
 
 While Algernon was away from home, his 
 mother, who never reflected much on any thing,
 
 WHO IS SHE? 181 
 
 the immediate pressure of which on her exter- 
 nal senses did not force itself upon her mind, 
 resumed her cheerfulness, and finding in Zo- 
 rilda all that the sweetest filial duty could be- 
 stow, treated her once more with as much affec- 
 tion as her selfish nature could feel. Mr. Hart- 
 Jand loved her as a daughter, and amongst the 
 dependents of every degree she was considered 
 as an angel of light who had descended from 
 Heaven, to shower mercy and consolation on 
 the poor, the sick, and the afflicted. As Zorilda 
 avoided strangers with the greatest anxiety, she 
 was seldom seen, and as she never left Henbury, 
 except to go to the parish church, in which a 
 curtain round the pew where she sat, and a veil 
 on her bonnet, afforded all the privacy which 
 she sought, it is not surprising that the fame 
 of her beauty had not gone much abroad. 
 
 While Algernon was absent too, the motive 
 for seeing company being removed, the family 
 assumed more than their usual habits of eco- 
 nomy, to enable Mrs. Hartland to indulge her 
 vanity, in providing for the excesses of her son, 
 whose constantlv increasing demands were found-
 
 182 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 ed on false pretences ; and his parents were im- 
 posed upon, by a belief that they were aiding 
 his advancement in life, while in reality they 
 ministered to every species of extravagance. 
 Zorilda was the presiding genius, who by her 
 skill and activity achieved all Mrs. Hartland's 
 purposes without compromising a single duty ; 
 and though every expense was regulated with 
 the strictest attention, the interests of those 
 whose claims on benevolence had ever been 
 accredited, were not forgotten ; and this ad- 
 mirable girl contrived to transfer to her friends 
 the praises which were due to herself alone. 
 The cultivation of her mind was her sole recre- 
 ation : a fine talent for drawing, diversified her 
 amusements, and had it not been for the thorn 
 at the heart, which busy occupation sometimes 
 concealed, but which no effort could extract, her 
 life might have presented as near a resemblance 
 to what may be imagined of higher spirits, whose 
 existence is compounded of love and know- 
 ledge, as had ever been witnessed on earth. 
 
 Algernon went abroad with his friend the 
 Marquess without returning home to take leave;
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 183 
 
 and Mrs. Hartland revelled in all the novelty 
 of an heroic act of self-denial, which would 
 bring about the accomplishment of her object 
 in the natural death, as she prognosticated, of 
 that attachment which was the bane of her am- 
 bition. 
 
 It was many years since Mrs. Gordon, the 
 younger sister of Mrs. Hartland, had visited 
 her friends in England ; and low spirits occa- 
 sioned by her son's departure having been 
 urged by his mother as an additional plea in 
 her present invitation, it obtained a favourable 
 answer; and the pleasure of a family meeting 
 in prospect in some degree compensated for the 
 privation to which she had condemned herself; 
 while Zorilda, whose eye governed every depart- 
 ment, found in making preparation for the 
 coming guests a source of added employment 
 which helped to banish painfid thoughts. She 
 had heard much of Mrs. Gordon from Mr. 
 Playfair, and longed, with eager curiosity, to 
 see with her own eyes one of whom he spoke 
 with such enthusiastic admiration, and of whom 
 she could only remember how kind she was to
 
 184 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 a gipsey child. At that time Zorilda was a pro- 
 digal of friendship, because she did not want 
 any larger store than Henbmy supplied ; but 
 she felt now, that if indeed Mrs. Gordon were 
 to prove such a being as she had been repre- 
 sented, her society would be a jewel above all 
 price. 
 
 The Gordons arrived, and Mr. Playfair's por- 
 trait was not exaggerated. Much has been said 
 against those sudden and sentimental attach- 
 ments, to which the female sex is accused of be- 
 ing especially addicted : and we are not desirous 
 of weakening the force of ridicule, which is justly 
 ascribable to vows of eternal friendship made at 
 sight ; but there is a sympathy between kindred 
 souls, which, as it will always exist in nature, we 
 may be permitted to hope will escape condem- 
 nation, and never be confounded with the tran- 
 sitory illusions of romance. Such a sympathy 
 almost immediately drew Mrs. Gordon and Zo- 
 rilda to each other, and every day's experience 
 confirmed the mutual attraction. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Gordon inspired the idea of having been shut 
 up in an ark with a chosen band, and " all
 
 WHO IS SHE f 
 
 185 
 
 appliances and means to boot," for preserving 
 ever}' intellectual and social energy in constant 
 play, untainted by the vices or the follies of a 
 surrounding world. 
 
 It may be imagined by some, who hold a 
 widely extended intercourse with mankind to 
 be requisite to liberal views and enlightened un- 
 derstandings, that such a description must neces- 
 sarily imply narrow minds, and limited informa- 
 tion ; but nothing could be more mistaken than 
 such a conclusion. In our present state of civi- 
 lization, dark and secluded must be that recess 
 into which books and opinions do not find their 
 way, and perhaps it may be truly said of various 
 kinds of knowledge, that it is not unusually 
 found in an inverse proportion with the distance 
 from its source. Whatever may be the truth, 
 as a general remark, the fact was, that in the 
 particular instance with which we are concerned 
 at present, the Scotch visitors who now added to 
 the family circle at Henbury, appeared to Zo- 
 rilda to be no other than the genii of some more 
 favoured planet, invested with the keys of all 
 those sacred stores from which the best posses-
 
 186 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 sions of mankind are derived. Her clear intel- 
 ligence and brilliant fancy, which had never be- 
 fore " sparkled in collision," now expanded in a 
 congenial atmosphere, and the innocent Zoe was 
 surprised by the powers of comprehension awak- 
 ened in her mind by the talisman of such society 
 as she enjoyed for the first time in her short life. 
 Mr. Playfair had been a mine of intellect, 
 but the parental interest which he felt for his 
 pupil, induced caution in the encouragement of 
 those quick sensibilities which he foresaw would 
 prove the bane of her happiness. He had there- 
 fore always led her to such studies as exercised 
 her reason more than her imagination ; and had 
 endeavoured to repress every tendency to excite- 
 ment in a character of such refined texture and 
 vivid glow, that he dreaded its future contact 
 with a world in which so little would be found 
 in sympathy with its delicate structure. What 
 rapture, was it not natural to think, did Zorilda 
 now experience in meeting with her beau ideal 
 of female friendship in Mrs. Gordon, of whom 
 she became almost a worshipper ! 
 
 No human beings, born in the Antipodes of
 
 187 
 
 each other, could be more entirely unlike than 
 Mis. Hartland and her sister. The latter, who 
 was by some years the younger of the two, had 
 lived from her childhood with an uncle who re- 
 sided in Edinburgh, and held a high place 
 amongst the literati of his time. Under the 
 auspices of this relation, who was equally distin- 
 guished by his learning and worth, Eugenia 
 Robinson had enjoyed advantages which few 
 young females possess, and of which still fewer 
 at the present day, are inclined to avail them- 
 selves when offered. Mingling continually in 
 company with men whose conversation bore tes- 
 timony to their genius and pursuits, she had 
 opportunity for indulging a thirst after all man- 
 ner of solidly valuable acquisition, without, hap- 
 pily for herself, incurring any of those stupid 
 taunts with which ignorance so frequently and 
 successfully frightens away a spirit of inquiry, 
 or on the other hand attracting that sickly ap- 
 plause, which, by flattering human weakness, 
 often substitutes a contemptible vanity for the 
 genuine desire of improvement in mental culti- 
 vation.
 
 188 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 Eugenia Robinson was not set up as a pro- 
 digy, nor was there the slightest parade in her 
 education ; but she lived in a capital where it is 
 still the fashion to wear heads and hearts, and 
 where she therefore found that she might think 
 without being called a Blue, and feel without 
 being styled a romancer. In the midst of that 
 society which her uncle brought together at his 
 house, Eugenia met Mr. Gordon, and after a 
 time, marriage cemented a union which had long 
 been acknowledged by reciprocal preference, 
 before it was confirmed at the altar. Never did 
 Hymen's torch light home a happier pair, and 
 the flame is not extinguished, but burns more 
 purely and brightly in the tranquil atmosphere 
 of domestic life, than while it was hurried to 
 and fro, along the varying currents of hope and 
 fear. 
 
 The wise man's prayer, "give me neither 
 poverty nor riches," was granted to them, and 
 retiring to Drumcairn, a pleasant spot in Aber- 
 deenshire, they realized all that poets dream of 
 conjugal felicity. They had no children, but 
 this was not a source of repining, first because
 
 WHO IS SHE? 189 
 
 they firmly believed that every dispensation of 
 Heaven is ordered by unerring judgment, while 
 that of mortal man is fallible and short sighted ; 
 and secondly, because they were happy in each 
 other, and there was no craving void for vain 
 wishes to occupy. Their days were passed in 
 the exercise of practical benevolence, not wasted 
 in the busy idleness of fashionable life ; and their 
 amusements were inspired by rural objects, 
 music, in which Mrs. Gordon was a proficient, 
 and an excellent library, which was constantly 
 augmenting its stores, by the addition of every 
 new book worthy of a place upon its shelves. 
 - Contentment, activity, and independence 
 brought forth all their fruit at Drumcairn, and 
 Zorilda, who had felt through secret instinct 
 that such things might be, though she had never 
 seen them, opened her whole soul to the genial 
 influence of her new associates, as the butterfly 
 unfolds its radiant wing to the sunbeam. 
 
 Mrs. Gordon understood her thoughts before 
 they found expression, and entered into all 
 her feelings while vet she believed them hidden 
 in her own breast; sympathizing or repress-
 
 190 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 ing, correcting or informing, as acquaintance in- 
 creased, and occasion suggested ; but the grate- 
 ful heart of our gentle Zoe was not estranged 
 from its early ties by the novelty of that en- 
 chantment which an ardent mind experiences 
 in gazing, for the first time, on its own image 
 in the bosom of a friend ; like that of Eve re- 
 flected from the clear waters of Paradise, when 
 newly awakened from sleep, she approached 
 with timid step, now advancing, now retiring, 
 to grasp the lovely form which gave a second 
 self to view. Zorilda, in the retirement of her 
 chamber, often breathed the silent murmur, 
 " Oh why do sisters differ thus ? " but her heart 
 replied, that Mrs. Hartland deserved her grati- 
 tude, and she was Algernon's mother. Her in- 
 nocent prayers were then sent up to Heaven for 
 strength to perform her course in the path of 
 duty, and she would fall into a rosy slumber, 
 dreaming of happy virtuous love and devoted 
 friendship. 
 
 The character of Mr. Gordon resembled that 
 of her friend and tutor, which quickly secured 
 him a place in her affections. She was charmed
 
 WHO IS SHE? 191 
 
 with the clearness of his views, and the straight 
 forward integrity of his practice ; but the more 
 Zorilda was captivated by society thus congenial, 
 the more sedulously did she endeavour, by re- 
 doubled attention, to avoid exhibiting to her 
 benefactors how much they lost by comparison 
 with their guests. Every moment which could 
 be snatched from these cares which Zorilda never 
 neglected, was employed in cultivating the pre- 
 sent opportunity of enjoyment; and Mrs. Hart- 
 land secretly triumphed in the fulfilment of her 
 project. She saw, in the mutual attachment 
 of her sister and her ward, the future feasibility 
 of sending the latter off to Scotland, should 
 Algernon's travels not have effaced all dan- 
 gerous recollections; and in this view she had 
 for the first time an appearance of unselfishness 
 bv promoting a companionship which afforded 
 ^ratification to those around her. Pride pre- 
 vented her from divulging her fears. 
 
 u If," said she to herself, " my son is cured 
 of his childish folly, there is no use in exposing 
 it. If, on the other hand, he should relapse 
 into anv nonsense, it will be time enough to act.
 
 192 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 ' Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof.' I 
 might restrain my sister's affection for Zoe were 
 I to clog it with future demands, so I will let 
 things work their own way, and take advantage 
 of results as occasion may require." 
 
 This was Mrs. Hartland's policy; Zorildahad 
 other motives for her silence, and a tremulous 
 delicacy of feeling prevented her from reposing 
 in the bosom of her dearest friend those hopes 
 and fears which disturbed the serenity of her 
 own; but Mrs. Gordon knew human nature, 
 and her sister's individual character. The first 
 taught her to believe it very possible that her 
 nephew might not be proof against such attrac- 
 tions as those of her young friend, while the 
 latter assured her that nothing could be less 
 consonant with the wishes of his mother than 
 that Zorilda should exercise any influence over 
 his affections. These abstract surmises were 
 brought to clearer testimony by a conversation 
 after dinner one day, which turned on genealogy. 
 
 " There is nothing like a good family," said 
 Mrs. Hartland; "even money is not of so much 
 consequence ; and for my part I would rather
 
 193 
 
 see my only child dead at my feet than that he 
 should bring disgrace upon himself and all be- 
 longing to him by marrying any one of low 
 birth." 
 
 Though Zorilda had resolved to command 
 her actions, she had no power to control her 
 looks ; and the sudden transition from a crim- 
 son blush to deadly pale, expressed more than 
 she wished to communicate, and revealed senti- 
 ments which no force of language could con- 
 tradict. 
 
 " My love," said Mrs. Gordon, as she rose 
 hastilv from her chair, and went towards Zo- 
 rilda, " I told you that you had walked too far. 
 I saw that you were greatly fatigued. You are 
 quite overcome now by the heat of this room, 
 and must come with me directly into the fresh 
 air." Zoe pressed the hand which was extended 
 towards her, and accompanied her kind con- 
 ductress. 
 
 When relieved from the restraint of observa- 
 tion on the part of those who knew all her little 
 history, she burst into tears: and when the 
 soothing caresses of Mrs. Gordon had tranquil - 
 
 VOL. I. k
 
 194 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 lized her spirits sufficiently to permit of utter- 
 ance, her first anxiety was to explain her emo- 
 tion without touching on its principal spring. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Zorilda, " what a mis- 
 fortune, is it not? to be thus a prey to the most 
 agonizing sensations upon a subject altogether 
 beyond the scope of my power to elucidate or 
 control ! I am ashamed of my weakness, of my 
 rebellion against that Almighty Being who de- 
 crees my trials, who my bible teaches me to be- 
 lieve, i loveth whom He chasteneth, andscourgeth 
 the son whom he would save.' Is it a crime to 
 be thus forlorn; the sport of every wind, or 
 like the wreck of some sea-foundered skiff, a 
 severed fragment floating on the ocean of life, 
 unknown, unclaimed, unacknowledged ? Alas ! 
 I have tried to school my warring soul, and 
 bend it to its burthen. I have prayed to Him 
 who can alone strengthen our frail nature, but 
 I have prayed in vain; I am not heeded. I 
 am an outcast in Heaven as on earth/' 
 
 " Beloved child," replied the tender friend, 
 who now sought to pour balsam on a wounded 
 spirit, " you pray not : yet in fulness of trust;
 
 WHO IS SHE I 195 
 
 you importune, but you do not confide. It is 
 sometimes permitted us to understand the dis- 
 cipline inflicted by Him who desireth not the 
 death of a sinner, who will never allow us to be 
 tempted beyond our power to endure. In Hea- 
 ven there are no pedigrees; God will have your 
 whole heart, give it freely to Him who gives you 
 all. Bless Him for the dangers which you have 
 escaped ; His mercy has snatched you from the 
 perils which encompassed your infant head, and 
 
 a day may come " 
 
 " Never ! never ! " answered Zorilda, "it is 
 a vain hope. Perhaps I shewed less presence 
 of mind to day than I might have summoned 
 to my aid on another occasion, because that 
 long walk, which you, dearest Mrs. Gordon, 
 chid me for adventuring, was undertaken this 
 morning in quest of some information respect- 
 ing my hapless tale. While resting yesterday 
 beneath the hawthorn hedge, I overheard a la- 
 bourer telling our gardener that a young man 
 had latelv come into the neighbourhood to 
 marry one of our farmers' daughters, and pro- 
 fessed to have seen me in former days, as well 
 k 2
 
 196 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 as to know how I fell into the hands of a gipsey 
 horde. Breathless and agitated I listened with 
 the deepest attention, but the men were walking 
 forward, and I caught no more of their conver- 
 sation. On my return to the house I consulted 
 with Rachael, that faithful creature who was 
 placed by the kindness of Mrs. Hard and to 
 watch over my tender years. She loves me 
 dearly, and her affection has often been a re- 
 fuge for my sorrows. She knew at once, by 
 my account, who the person was to whom the 
 labourer alluded, and promised to make minute 
 inquiry; but my impatience would not brook 
 delay, and after a sleepless night, I set on , ac- 
 companied by her, at early dawn to see and 
 speak myself to the stranger. Buoyed up at 
 one moment by hope; at another, trembling 
 with fear, I flew along, regardless of distance, 
 and reached the cottage were he was to be 
 found ; I sav/ 9 and conversed with him. My 
 curiosity has been punished. Alas ! the littl e 
 lie could tell, has only served to add bitterness 
 to my former ignorance. He told me that he 
 pursued the gipsey group, to which I afterwards
 
 WHO IS SHE? 197 
 
 belonged, for the purpose of obtaining payment 
 for a horse from the very man who purchased 
 me, and who was the greatest rogue of the 
 whole party, as also their chief. At length my 
 informer found these wild people encamped upon 
 the southern coast, and while he remained to 
 transact his own business, he witnessed a nego- 
 ciation, which put the lawless band in possession 
 of the miserable Zoe. A woman, dressed in 
 mean attire, and having the appearance of a 
 soldier's wife, offered me for sale. The bargain 
 was made. The man who bought me inquired 
 my name, and the unfeeling wretch who could 
 so barter her weeping infant for a sum of mo- 
 ney, replied, 'You may call her Zorilda. I 
 have just landed with her from Spain, and the 
 sooner you change your quarters the better.' 
 The gipsey chief next inquired of the woman 
 whether she had a husband, fearing that the 
 father might follow, to reclaim his child. S No, 
 no,' answered the she wolf, whom, I am now tor- 
 tured by supposing to have been my mother ; 
 4 he is laid low enough. He was killed, and will 
 not rise from the grave to trouble you. 1 must
 
 198 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 not linger here. Hide the child till you arrive 
 in another part of the country, and set off with 
 your prize as fast as you can/ 
 
 " This is the sum and substance of all the in- 
 formation I could glean. The woman who 
 made traffic of her offspring, would not tell the 
 gipsies to what regiment her husband belonged, 
 nor mention his name. I have, therefore, not 
 the slightest clue by which to make further scru- 
 tiny, and the only knowledge which I have 
 gained, deprives me of the humble consolation 
 which I before enjoyed, of dreaming that I was 
 once folded in the arms of an adoring parent, 
 who, however lowly her lot of life, still loved 
 and pressed me to a mother's bosom. The 
 keenness of this disappointment, and the cer- 
 tainty that the moral qualities of her who gave 
 me birth were as debased as her station, pecu- 
 liarly unfitted me to bear with calmness the 
 sentence which Mrs. Hartland pronounced to- 
 day upon a vulgar origin. 
 
 " Oh, why are my feelings so acute ? Sprung 
 from the lowest abyss, the very dregs of my 
 species, why are my thoughts so proud ? Why
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 199 
 
 is my will thus rebellious ? If, like the humble 
 hind who tills the earth, I could be satisfied 
 with the rank assigned by Providence, I could be 
 happy ; I could raise my hands to heaven, and 
 bless my creator in the temple of nature ; bend 
 to my rustic toil, and repose in peace; but 
 there is a war within, which murders rest. I 
 feel as if I had been formed for another destiny, 
 and my spirit cannot submit in meekness to this 
 degradation." 
 
 " My Zorilda," answered Mrs. Gordon, " you 
 have not reduced religion to practice, and your 
 trials have been sufficient to render the task of 
 obedience severe ; but it must be learned. The 
 morbid sensibility which you encourage blinds 
 your understanding, and you draw false conclu- 
 sions. The inference which / derive from your 
 dialogue with the stranger this morning is di- 
 rectly opposite to that which you deduce. The 
 soldier's wife was not your mother. Nay, I 
 should decide against her having even been 
 your nurse. The strong instincts of nature are 
 seldom violated, and amid all the depravity of 
 human kind there are few instances of such un-
 
 200 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 natural character as you take for granted in the 
 present case. Zorilda is not a name by which 
 an English soldier's wife would have been likely 
 to call her daughter; neither would a woman 
 who sold her own child, and whose husband was 
 no longer living to upbraid her, or seek its re- 
 covery, have had any apparent motive for the 
 concealment which she desired, in the speedy 
 decampment of the gipsies. Be assured that 
 you are rather the offspring of Spanish parents, 
 probably of rank and consideration. Silk and 
 velvet, of which materials your dress was made 
 when first my sister saw you, are not the com- 
 mon manufactures which clothe inferior people. 
 Who has had the misfortune to lose you, is a 
 mystery which I wish we were enabled to solve, 
 but all that I do know convinces me that you 
 are not the child of her who sold you to the 
 gipsey gang." 
 
 " Dear and kind friend," exclaimed Zorilda, 
 " how grateful am I for the tender feeling with 
 which you try to mitigate my pain. I will not 
 repel your efforts — I will adopt your creed — it 
 shall be mine, and I will endeavour to believe
 
 WHO IS SHE? 201 
 
 that I was indeed stolen from my home by the 
 cruel being who passed me again into stranger 
 hands. But what a fate is mine, when such a 
 surmise is the best consolation which can be ot- 
 tered. Had I been left in my native land, 
 though torn from all I loved, I might have been 
 brought up in the religion of my ancestors, and 
 found an asylum in some friendly convent. You 
 have no such refuge here for the unhappy." 
 
 " All England is the refuge of the destitute," 
 replied Mrs. Gordon ; " her bounteous shores 
 have been pressed by royal fugitives, and this 
 glorious land, this favoured soil, has sheltered 
 kings as well as slaves from the tyranny of 
 other climes. Shall my Zoe repine at having 
 imbibed the doctrines of a purer faith than that 
 of Spain ? The heart may freely dedicate it- 
 self to God without the call of matin or of ves- 
 per bell. We have altars every where, and do 
 not want the convent's gloomy pile to enshrine 
 our prayers. Those sad receptacles are fre- 
 quently the scene of guilt, and the prison walls 
 of the religious recluse, too often contain devo- 
 tion of every kind but that to Heaven." 
 k5
 
 202 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 " Oh forgive my impetuosity ; I stand con- 
 victed of my error. Be my counsellor ; speak 
 peace to a wounded spirit, and you shall find in 
 Zorilda a docile as well as a grateful heart," said 
 the lovely Spaniard, with an expression of coun- 
 tenance so contrite, so imploring, as to touch 
 Mrs. Gordon to the soul ; but afraid of indulg- 
 ing affection which would be soon interrupted 
 by her own departure from Henbury, she re- 
 pressed the tear which rose to her eye, and 
 looking at her young and beautiful companion 
 with an air of encouraging kindness, she kissed, 
 raised her gently from the seat on which they 
 had been conversing, and leading her towards 
 the house, emphatically uttered those inspired 
 words of the royal Psalmist, " Whom have I in 
 Heaven but thee; and whom do I desire on 
 earth beside thee?" adding, " When we can 
 answer this passionate and affecting inquiry with 
 sincerity, and feel that there is no idol dividing 
 the empire of our hearts with that being who 
 will not reign over a disputed kingdom, then, 
 and not till then, shall the distracted bosom find 
 repose,"
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 203 
 
 Zorilda started, coloured violently, and looked 
 as if her heart would burst its prison without 
 permission from her will, but just as her lips 
 were going to obey its impulse, she checked the 
 accents as they were escaping, and after a mo- 
 mentary pause, during which a short but dread- 
 ful conflict seemed to convulse her frame, she 
 caught the arm of her friend, and calling up all 
 the fortitude of virtuous resolution to her aid, 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " Yes ! be it so ; God is the orphan's portion. 
 He is the defender of the fatherless. You have 
 touched a hidden chord. The world is of Pro- 
 teus form ; and even in such seclusion as this, 
 its roses or its thorns can occupy the imagina- 
 tion, and divert the soul from its devotion to the 
 Supreme. I will bind your words upon my 
 heart ! I will remember that within my own 
 breast there is an altar of dedication to receive 
 my vows. The offering only is wanting to com- 
 plete the sacrifice, and you have furnished the 
 test by which I am to seek the victim." 
 
 " Make no vows, my child," said Mrs. Gor- 
 don; "freedom is with noble minds the straitest
 
 204 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 bondage. Endure your trials; kiss the rod. 
 Believe that affliction comes not from the dust; 
 it is sent from on high to purify and exalt. The 
 murmur of irritability, and the gloomy silence 
 of a sullen temper, are alike remote from that 
 submission which your God requires to fit you 
 for the glorious society of angels. Should an 
 earthly friend be wanted by my Zoe, while I 
 live, remember Drumcairn, and fly to its peace- 
 ful retreat." 
 
 These words sank too deeply for reply. The 
 Gordons returned to Scotland ; and in an hour 
 after they drove from the door. While Zc- 
 rilda was plunged in the deepest grief and 
 lamentation, a letter arrived to announce the 
 approach of Algernon.
 
 WHO IS SHE? 205 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where 
 most it promised." Shakspeare. 
 
 The difference between hope and fruition is a 
 hacknied theme, and there are few pleasures 
 belonging to man, of which it may not be said, 
 with Congreve, that 
 
 " 'Tis expectation makes the blessing dear." 
 
 Scarcely had Zorilda bid adieu to the friends 
 whose society had afforded that fulness and va- 
 riety of enjoyment which constitute the longest 
 as well as most delightful measure of remem- 
 bered time, when in an hour of such desolation 
 as a heart like hers, alive to the strongest im- 
 pressions, could alone experience; the current 
 of her grief was disturbed, as is the rivulet's 
 gentle flow, when a fragment from the moun-
 
 206 TAXES OF MY TIME. 
 
 tain side dashes into the midst of the stream, 
 breaking its silent waters into a thousand trou- 
 bled eddies. 
 
 A letter from Algernon came to announce his 
 intended return, and one brief fortnight would 
 now give him back to the eyes and heart of her 
 whose agitated spirits bore speaking testimony to 
 the powerful hold which he possessed on her 
 affections. 
 
 Two years had intervened since our hero left 
 Henbury for Oxford. He had contrived, on vari- 
 ous pretences, to lengthen his stay at Paris, till 
 the University appeared to be altogether aban- 
 doned. Mrs. Hartland felt her son's absence 
 severely, but it was some consolation to believe 
 that he was extending his connections advan- 
 tageously amongst people whose rank and con- 
 sequence were conformable to the future dignity 
 of his prospects. She likewise trusted, that 
 present sacrifice of his society would be repaid 
 by the perfect cure of his first love. 
 
 Algernon never failed to flatter the weakness 
 of his parents, and while time and money were 
 wasted in profligacy, a list of distinguished
 
 WHO IS SHE? 207 
 
 names deceived them, gratified their vanity, and 
 cheated them, through a series of vaunting lies, 
 into the fond assurance, that their darling was 
 the principal ornament of the Court of France. 
 He had quarrelled with the Marquess of Turn- 
 stock, but concealed his separation from him, 
 and the true motive of his present design to 
 re-visit home at this moment, was in order to 
 anticipate conjecture which might naturally 
 arise when his Lordship's arrival in England 
 unaccompanied by him, would lead to inquiry 
 why they had parted from each other after being 
 the " Castor and Pollux" of Oxford. 
 
 Zorilda had indeed often wondered at the 
 frigid nature of that affection which could im- 
 pose upon itself the pangs and penalties of such 
 lengthened absence. She had often asked her- 
 self what spell had the power to charm the 
 wanderer, and would then chide her heart for 
 its jealous doubts. The intervals between 
 Algernon's letters were much increased since he 
 commenced his foreign travel, but Zorilda could 
 account for this. " He knows that I have no 
 money, and would spare me his mother's re-
 
 208 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 proaches for the cost of frequent postage," said 
 the innocent Zoe, who judged of others by her- 
 self. Every letter, too, when tried by the test 
 which revealed its hidden sentiments, contained 
 assurance of undying love which kindred flames 
 developed, when, spite of her prohibition, in- 
 spired by 
 
 " Hope, kind cheat, fair fallacy," 
 
 she held the paper to the fire, " pardoning the 
 treason for the traitor's sake." 
 
 Zorilda's quick penetration had also remarked 
 sundry abbreviations and blots in Algernon's 
 late despatches, which might be truly so called in 
 every sense of the word, and sighed as she re- 
 collected that a celebrated Madame de Staal, 
 who lived in the age of Louis Quinze, had dis- 
 covered the refrigeration of a lover's affection, 
 in his voluntary choice of a short road when he 
 used to conduct her home to her convent, after 
 passing the day with her friends in Paris. Two 
 sides of the triangle which formed the court of 
 the convent would have afforded a longer tete-a- 
 tete than the diagonal ; yet the lover abridged 
 opportunity by preferring the diagonal, and the
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 209 
 
 young Frenchwoman at once decided that he 
 had ceased to be one, and would see him no 
 more. 
 
 She was right, but though Zorilda felt the 
 shortened words as much as Madame de Staal 
 in her youth had felt the shortened way, she 
 pleaded unavoidable haste, to excuse all appa- 
 rent negligence or contempt, though the acute- 
 ness of her sensibility made her alive to the 
 slightest change of temperature in affection. 
 Even had her reasoning been more severe, it 
 would not have stood proof against the first 
 sound of the carriage wheels which announced 
 Algernon's arrival within the gates of Henbury. 
 The most subtile arguments are but feeble wea- 
 pons when opposed to true love, when the latter 
 is re-inforced by presence of the beloved object. 
 One look is sufficient to put to flight a world 
 of reasoning, and Zorilda did not wait to see 
 her truant, before her beating heart proclaimed 
 full pardon of every omission or commission of 
 which he had ever been guilty. Algernon's 
 letter inclosed an open note, which his mother 
 as usual read before she suffered it to leave her
 
 210 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 hands. To her eyes it only contained a few 
 careless words, calculated to lull every appre- 
 hension of repose. She could find nothing more 
 than — 
 
 " Dear Zo, I am coming and am in too great 
 a bustle to say more than a few words. I am 
 longing to see all my four-footed favourites. 
 Send to Norton for my greyhound and setters, 
 which I left with him ; and tell him that I ex- 
 pect their education to be finished by the time I 
 see them again. I long also to re-visit my 
 hawks and pheasants, which you have been nurs- 
 ing for me ; and I long to see you too, and tell 
 you of all my adventures. Your's truly, dear 
 Zo, in fire haste, A. H." 
 
 Mrs. Hartland contrasted this meagre de- 
 monstration with the "dearest mother" and 
 " most affectionate son," addressed to herself, 
 and presented this blotted billet to the blushing 
 girl with an air of triumph. 
 
 Zorilda read it without making any comment, 
 but longed to be alone to try whether " fire 
 haste " might not extract something more from 
 the paper which she held in her trembling hand.
 
 WHO IS SHE? 211 
 
 The intelligent reader has, no question, often 
 remarked, that people whose tempers are not 
 governed by any other director than their pas- 
 sions, are kind or unkind to others as they 
 happen to be pleased or displeased themselves. 
 This was Mrs. Hartland's habit, and Zorilda's 
 patience was often put to severe trial ; but the 
 mother's spirits were now elated, and all around 
 shared their couleur de rose. She folded up her 
 packet, and smiling benignantly on her young 
 friend, desired her to go, and give the necessary 
 orders to prepare for her son's return. 
 
 " Algernon will be of age on the 25th," said 
 Mrs. Hartland, " and this is an event of import- 
 ance in my family. If he comes before his birth- 
 day, we shall have a double joy to celebrate. 
 Childish things must henceforth be put away, 
 and my son must now assume the manly cha- 
 racter in which he is called from this time to act 
 a new part upon the stage of life ; aye, and I 
 trust also a distinguished one. The boyish 
 follies of Algernon's early youth are no longer 
 to be remembered, and one-and-twenty is an
 
 212 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 The young Spaniard's eloquent cheek and 
 eye were beginning to betray a painful consci- 
 ousness of the secret meaning which these words 
 were designed to convey. She understood, with 
 rapid comprehension, the full tenour of this 
 commencing oration; but the entrance of a 
 servant, who came to say that a messenger 
 had just arrived on horseback at full speed, 
 bringing a letter which he had orders not to 
 confide to any other hands than those of Mr. 
 or Mrs. Hartland, offered an opportunity which 
 Zorilda instantaneously seized to glide out of 
 the room, and snatching up her straw hat as 
 she passed quickly through the hall, she flew 
 into the open air to give free vent to feelings 
 too agonizing to be suppressed, too proud to be 
 revealed, to her who had excited them. 
 
 " Break not yet, poor heart," said Zorilda 
 aloud, as she gained her favourite solitude; " such 
 tumult of the soul can find no place in Heaven, 
 whither all my thoughts should bend. There 
 all is peace, celestial peace ! Oh, she is a skil- 
 ful archer ; every arrow is securely aimed, every 
 poisoned shaft is winged unerringly. Did she
 
 WHO IS SHE? 213 
 
 not say that "childish things are to be laid 
 aside?" and what so childish as love for the 
 nameless, friendless, orphan-gipsey ? I under- 
 stand it all too well, yet why too well ? Un- 
 grateful that I am ! Shall I repine that I am 
 enabled to perceive the dangers which beset my 
 path ? and do I call myself unfriended while the 
 spirit of her who so lately blessed me with 
 almost a mother's tenderness, still hovers here? 
 Yes, in this spot used we to hold sweet counsel. 
 Here did I listen to the soothing voice of com- 
 fort, here taste the balm of sacred wisdom as 
 from her lips distilled the pure stream of divine 
 instruction, which poured daily on my ear. 
 Though absent, she shall teach me still, and I 
 will pray in the silence of this fragrant breeze, 
 to that Being who is never deaf to the suppli- 
 cant's cry." 
 
 What breast un vitiated by the artificial world 
 is not alive to the soft influence of nature, and 
 what soul ever sought its God in sincerity and 
 humiliation without finding relief? Zorilda 
 rose from the mossy shrine, strengthened, re- 
 freshed, consoled, and sitting down where she
 
 214 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 had knelt before, exclaimed with fervour, " Re- 
 member Drumcairn ! " " Those were her part- 
 ing words as she folded me to her bosom. 
 Yes, I will remember, and with thankfulness, 
 that there is yet an earthly asylum for Zorilda." 
 A slight rustling amongst the branches which 
 formed a screen behind where she sat, and 
 threw their protective shade over her head, dis- 
 turbed her meditations; and starting up she 
 looked around, but could only discover by an 
 increased movement of the leaves, that some- 
 thing had brushed through them. 
 
 " What a fool I am ! " said she ; " shall I fear 
 my old and faithful companions, and start at a 
 bird ? But hah ! what is here ? a letter, and 
 for me ! " She seized the paper with trembling 
 haste, and casting a timid glance around, hur- 
 ried breathlessly back to the shrubbery from 
 which she had strayed, and closed its gate be- 
 fore she dared venture to break the seal, and 
 read the following lines : 
 "Zorilda, 
 "There is one at least in the world who 
 asks not ' Who is she ? ' but who knows you to
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 215 
 
 be virtuous, lovely, and unhappy ; one who 
 can behold in you the pedigree of a noble soul, 
 whencesoever it be derived ; who has gazed 
 more than once unseen upon your streaming 
 eyes uplifted in prayer to Heaven ; and listened 
 to those sighs which rend your heart, yet with- 
 out intrusion on your sorrows. The friend who 
 now addresses you, has not taken advantage of 
 his situation to possess himself of your secrets, if 
 you have any which you desire should be unre- 
 vealed, and his motive in thus alarming, is to 
 warn you against dangers which threaten your 
 peace. Walk no more beyond the enclosure 
 of your shrubbery, till you bear from your un- 
 known guardian that you are safe in doing so ; 
 and rely on the fidelity of one, who cannot tell 
 you more at present than that he is devoted to 
 your interests, over which he watches with con- 
 stant vigilance. Beware of wandering by moon- 
 light, and alone." 
 
 Zorilda was nearly overcome with terror and 
 astonishment. Unused to consider herself an 
 object of interest to any one, the liveliest grati- 
 tude would have possessed her unsuspecting
 
 216 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 heart, if the dread of some impending ill did not 
 predominate over every calmer feeling. From 
 whence came the warning which she had just 
 received ? It was not the hand-writing of Mr. 
 Playfair, and if it were, why should he be thus 
 mysterious ? He would have pointed explicitly 
 to the approaching danger, and as openly ad- 
 vised the best means of avoiding it. This 
 anonymous intimation was perhaps itself a snare; 
 yet it prescribed caution, and seemed to be dic- 
 tated by truth and kindness. 
 
 " What shall I do ? Oh whither shall I turn 
 for counsel?" said Zorilda. "If I tell Mr. 
 Hartland, what profit will accrue ? He cannot 
 lock rne up, nor place a guard in attendance on 
 my steps. Mrs. Hartland would call me a 
 heroine of romance, and I should be derided, 
 ridiculed, insulted. What a time is this to have 
 lost the true friends who would have been my 
 pilots ! But God is every where, He will di- 
 rect me, if with a single heart, I implore His 
 heavenly guidance." 
 
 The sound of hasty footsteps put an end to 
 Zorilda's reflections. She folded the paper
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 217 
 
 quickly, over which she had been musing, and 
 had scarcely time to conceal it, when Rachel, 
 a faithful domestic already introduced to the 
 reader, ran towards her, out of breath — 
 
 " Miss Zoe, Miss Zoe, make no delay ; my 
 mistress is calling for you, and angry that you 
 cannot be found. Master is from home too ; 
 not expected till dinner, which is ordered an 
 hour later than usual, and we have been put into 
 a great flutterment by news at the house ; but I 
 am not to tell you any thing about it, only to 
 find, and send you in, without loss of time." 
 
 Zorilda trembled so exceedingly, that she 
 could hardly obey the summons, and immedi- 
 ately concluded, that whatever circumstances 
 had occurred in her absence, bore some refer- 
 ence to the mysterious communication which 
 had been made to her. Bewildered by the va- 
 riety of alarms which thronged upon her mind, 
 she advanced with breathless agitation, and hav- 
 ing reached the house, heard Mrs. Hartland's 
 voice loudly employed in giving directions to 
 have a horse saddled, and a servant in readiness 
 to set off in quest of her husband, who had gone 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 that morning to attend a board of magistrates 
 at some distance from Henbury. 
 
 Zorilda, pale as death, gained the apartment 
 from whence she heard these orders issuing, and 
 felt sinking with apprehension and exhaustion, 
 when she was met by a countenance in which 
 exultation, impatience, resentment, and solici- 
 tude struggled for mastery. 
 
 " Where is it that you hide yourself in this 
 unfeeling manner ? " said Mrs. Hartland, with 
 impetuous eagerness. " Is it not too provoking 
 that I should be left alone, and that nobody can 
 be found in a moment of such agitation as the 
 present. Lord Marchdale lies at the point of 
 death. He has had a paralytic stroke, and is 
 speechless. Mb. Humphries, the head steward, 
 who has long been in our interests, has sent off 
 an express to give secret intelligence of the 
 event ; and here, by the most unlucky chance 
 imaginable, my son is far away, and I know not 
 how to direct to him. Mr. Hartland, who 
 hardly ever leaves home, is absent ; and even 
 you too are moping idly in some hole or corner, 
 and can nowhere be found. You have no per-
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 219 
 
 sonal interest, it is true, in the matter, but it is 
 intolerable that you should be out of the way 
 when my hand shakes so that I cannot hold a 
 pen." 
 
 The harshness, as well as unreasonableness, of 
 this attack, repelled the softer sympathies of 
 Zorilda's heart, which were ever ready at the 
 call of affection ; and summoning as much firm- 
 ness as she could command, she calmly replied, 
 
 " Madam, as you had no cause to anticipate 
 this event, you would have been the first to cen- 
 sure Mr. Hardand's indolence, had he neglected 
 the business which engages him this morning ; 
 and as to me, I am not aware of disobeying 
 your commands in taking a walk at no great 
 distance from the house. I am ready now> 
 though my hand is not very steady, to write as 
 you shall dictate." 
 
 " I shall remember your insolent coldness," 
 said Mrs. Hartland ; " write directly to Mr. 
 Humphries, thank him in my name for the zeal 
 which he has shewn in our affairs, desire him to 
 keep a strict eye over the property, and to re- 
 fuse admittance to all interlopers, and — " 
 l2
 
 220 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 " Oh," interrupted Zorilda, " do not accuse 
 me of that which is foreign from my nature. 
 Can any good or evil happen at Henbury in 
 which I do not share ? Are you not my bene- 
 factors ? But you reject my sympathy with dis- 
 dain, and then reproach me for the want of it. 
 Let me prove how much I feel upon the present 
 occasion by conjuring you not to commit your- 
 self by writing such a letter as you propose to 
 the steward. If, as I have heard you say, Mr. 
 Hartland is heir to the estates, as well as to the 
 title of Marchdale, you will owe nothing to the 
 omciousn ess of this Humphries ; but should 
 Lord Marchdale have had power over his for- 
 tune, and exercised it to your disadvantage, 
 how will this precipitancy advance your claims, 
 or redress the evil ? Again, a paralytic stroke 
 is not always fatal. Lord Marchdale may re- 
 cover, and then you are at the mercy of a syco- 
 phant who may turn your impatience to account 
 with his master, and represent you in unfavour- 
 able colours, to your future ruin. Let me return 
 vour acknowledgments for a letter which you
 
 WHO IS SHE? 221 
 
 have opened in the absence of Mr. Hartland, 
 and enter no farther into the subject of it." 
 
 " You are right, Zoe ; I forgive you," an- 
 swered Mrs. Hartland ; " make haste, give a 
 guinea to the messenger, see that he is properly 
 taken care of, and despatch him without delay." 
 
 Zorilda executed the task which her own good 
 sense and delicacy had suggested ; but who can 
 describe the state of her mind, when, having 
 performed her commission, she had time to re- 
 flect on her own situation, rendered doubly pre- 
 carious and painful, by the increased distance 
 which she perceived the near prospect of rank 
 and fortune would place between her and all 
 she loved ? 
 
 Mr. Hartland returned, and even his phleg- 
 matic temperament was excited by the news 
 which awaited him. Visions of future greatness 
 now absorbed the attention of him and his wife, 
 though they took various hues, according with 
 the difference of their characters. Mr. Hart- 
 land shewed no impatience, but, assuming a sort 
 of sullen pomp, seemed to feel himself already 
 in possession of the distinction which he antici*
 
 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 pated ; while Mrs. Hartland, in an agony of 
 u hope deferred," endured a perpetual fever of 
 mind from the restlessness and impotent activity 
 of her disposition. Day after day passed with- 
 out bringing farther tidings., and the final ac- 
 count from Marchdale-court was necessary to 
 allay those apprehensions which embittered her 
 golden dreams. 
 
 There is one character still more irritating 
 than that of an eat post facto prophet, and that 
 is a person who. not waiting for events, begins, 
 while they are yet pending, to foresee disastrous 
 issues in the interval between causes and effects, 
 without casting a shadow of blame upon them- 
 selves for having acquiesced in that very con- 
 duct, on the failure of which their angry saga- 
 city is afterwards employed too late to prevent 
 whatever may be its result. Mrs. Hartland was 
 of this description. The mob principle, that 
 everv one must be wrong who does not glide 
 with full sails before the wind, influenced all her 
 decisions of every kind ; and though in the pre- 
 sent case it was obvious, that while Lord March- 
 dale lived she could not receive the joyful infor-
 
 WHO IS SHEr 223 
 
 mation of his death, she could not impute the 
 silence of Mr. Humphries to any other source 
 than offence at the frigid style of Zorilda's reply 
 to his letter. " I saw plainly how it would be. 
 I knew that Mr. Humphries would be affronted. 
 We have evidently lost a friend who would have 
 watched over our interests, and all because I 
 was too much agitated to write myself. I should 
 have conciliated this worthy man, and flattered 
 his vanity with assurance of my entire reliance 
 on his zeal and discretion ; but people who 
 know nothing of the world will put in a word 
 of advice, and woe to all who give ear to their 
 stupid counsels." 
 
 To these, and such like taunts, Zorilda had 
 to listen, whenever her evil genius brought her 
 within hearing of Mrs. Hartland's unceasing 
 complaints ; which were now received with less 
 submission by her husband, as he began to feel 
 himself rising in the scale of human dignity, 
 and remembered that it was through him that 
 the expected honours were to come. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake," he would sometimes 
 say, " let my relation die in peace, my dear.
 
 924 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 Would you have Mr. Humphries administer a 
 dose of poison to hasten your victim out of the 
 world, in order to accommodate your ambi- 
 tion?" 
 
 " Mr. Hartland you are becoming insuffer- 
 able. Your torpor is more exasperating than 
 the rage of a lion. I am sure, were it not for 
 the sake of posterity, I wish that your relation 
 may recover, and keep you out of an earldom 
 which you are not fit for, and have too little 
 feeling to value. My son, however, will one day 
 grace a coronet of which his father is little 
 worthy. " 
 
 " I suppose that you would kill me also, to 
 make way for your idol," retorted Mr. Hart- 
 land ; " but we may all prove too tough for 
 your wishes. Mind, I tell you that a paralytic 
 stroke is not always a stroke unto death : and 
 you may be punished yet for committing mur- 
 -Jer in your heart, if not with your hands. Take 
 my advice, good lady, and keep yourself cool ; 
 or in vulgar phrase, do not reckon your chickens 
 before they are hatched." 
 
 This was a new style of dialogue at Henbury,
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 225 
 
 and exceedingly shocked the gentle Zorilda; 
 who, endeavouring to forget her own anxieties 
 as much as possible, tried every effort in her 
 power to soften these asperities and mediate be- 
 tween the belligerent parties, who never had 
 quarrelled till now, when they seemed upon the 
 eve of attaining the grand object of their com- 
 mon wishes. 
 
 " How strange the effect of what the world 
 calls prosperity ! " exclaimed this child of na- 
 ture, when relieved from the irksome society of 
 those with whom it was her lot to drag the 
 heavy hours. " Who would desire to possess a 
 few ideal distinctions, brief as shadowy, at the 
 expense of all that is dear to the heart ? " 
 
 Zorilda was debarred the luxury, not denied 
 to many in this age, of communicating her 
 thoughts to a distant friend. The power of pur- 
 chasing this gratification was more than she 
 could command, so entire was her dependence . 
 and even if it had been permitted her to cor- 
 respond with Mrs. Gordon, the necessity of 
 shewing every line which she either wrote or 
 received, would have neutralized the privilege. 
 l 5
 
 226 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 " Let me thank God," said she, " that I 
 have still the power of thought ; still the blessed 
 boon of self-communion left ; and, oh may I 
 use the gift to profit ! examine my heart, probe 
 its most secret recesses, and cultivate resigna- 
 tion to the will of Him who sees it good that I 
 should be thus severely tried ! " 
 
 When aspirations such as these would escape 
 her lips, a bright gleam of hope sometimes suc- 
 ceeded, and painted Algernon in all the bloom 
 of youthful joy, returning to the home of his 
 happy childhood ; called thither to embellish 
 a higher sphere, elate with glad prospects, and 
 placed in possession of power to shed happiness 
 in every smile. Spite of every effort to repress 
 the fond dreams of imagination, they would 
 sometimes, too, indulge in weaving a golden fu- 
 ture for herself. If Algernon had ceased to 
 love, why did his letters still breathe the honied 
 accents of a sentiment which he might pretend 
 to forget ? Was it generous to doubt his truth 
 because his words were few ? Was it reasonable 
 to expect more lavish demonstration of an at- 
 tachment so constrained by circumstances ? Ar-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 227 
 
 rived at full age, and raised to dignity and in- 
 dependence, might he not prevail with his pa- 
 rents to enter into his views ? 
 
 Thoughts such as these were too welcome 
 not to force their way, and if Zorilda had in- 
 clination, she wanted strengh to banish them 
 always from her mind. A secret feeling would 
 even picture the pleased surprise with which 
 Algernon would hear her voice, already flexible 
 and melodious, now improved by science and 
 cultivation, and accompanied by the " mellow 
 minstrelsy " of a Spanish guitar, on which Mrs. 
 Gordon's tasteful tuition had rendered her a 
 proficient. 
 
 How lovely was the expression of that elo- 
 quent eye ! How touching the sounds which 
 flowed from those ruby lips when hope's de- 
 lightful inspirations came o'er her mind, 
 
 " Like the sweet south 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 Stealing and giving odour." 
 
 At length the time arrived which was to 
 realize or blast the timid promises of faithful 
 love ; and on the same day, the evening of
 
 228 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 which was to be blessed by Algernon's return, 
 the dawn was ushered in by an express to an- 
 nounce the death of Lord Marchdale. 
 
 Suspense and irritation had brought Mrs. 
 Hartland's mind to a state of quiescence through 
 exhaustion, without effecting any improvement 
 of temper. On the contrary, the spirit of bick- 
 ering against her husband was ready as before, 
 on the present occasion, and broke out into the 
 following fretful complaint : 
 
 " Ay ! when one is worn out with expecting, 
 here comes this empty title at last; but not 
 a word about the estates. As to the coronet, 
 that was a thing of course, and no gratitude is 
 due on that score ; but if the property is left 
 away, it would be much better that the title had 
 gone along with it. You have always neglected 
 my advice, Mr. Hartland, or we should not be 
 indebted now to back-stairs informers for what 
 we ought to know ourselves. It is ten to one but 
 you have ruined the fortunes of your son by 
 your indolent supineness." 
 
 " Can you not wait till the dead are buried :" 
 answered the exasperated husband. " Did any
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 2*29 
 
 mortal, but yourself, ever hear of prying into a 
 will before the body is laid in the grave ? even 
 the commonest decencies of life are violated by 
 your rapacity." 
 
 " Pretty language, indeed" replied the ruf- 
 fled dame; c; but you may find, bye and bye, that 
 my ' r opacity J or prudence, or whatever else 
 you may please to call it, may have saved you 
 from a jail." 
 
 Each party quitted the room by opposite 
 doors in no very harmonious frame of mind ; 
 yet, spite of ill humour with each other, they 
 were irresistibly excited by the intelligence just 
 received. Men are said to be but " children of 
 a larger growth," and certain it is that we 
 should often be ashamed to confess to the world 
 how a bauble can charm our imaginations. 
 
 Mr. Hartland was met, on quitting the apart- 
 ment, by eager faces of attempted condolence 
 and congratulation, mingled with the slavish 
 wonder and submissiveness generated in vulgar 
 minds by sudden accession of rank. The ser- 
 vants and dependants were peeping on tip-toe, 
 shoving each other backwards and forwards to
 
 230 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 catch the first glimpse of their master, and see 
 whether he looked differently from his former 
 self, since he had become a great lord ; but the 
 dread of discovering how much he was pleased 
 with his new dignity, as also a certain fear of 
 upstart claims which might at least be vexatious, 
 and delay its attainment, induced him to refrain 
 from his usual ride, and issue orders that no one 
 should address him by any other than the ordi- 
 nary appellation, till his return from March- 
 dale-court, for which place it would be neces- 
 sary that he and his son should set out on the 
 following day. 
 
 Mrs. Hartland gratified the people and her- 
 self by going out into the shrubbery, garden, 
 farm-yard, etcetera; and wherever she could 
 find a human being to greet her with the de- 
 lightful sounds of " my Lady," and " your 
 ladyship," she condescended to expatiate on the 
 lofty acquirements which had descended on her 
 house. One old woman, in the effervesence of 
 her zeal and ignorance, styled her " your Ma- 
 jesty," which flattered so bewitchingly, that the 
 salutation scarcely seemed ridiculous.
 
 WHO IS SHE? 231 
 
 The express of the morning produced a very 
 different effect on Zorilda, whose agitation was 
 sufficient for her delicate frame, without this 
 increase. These new honours had no charm 
 for her, but seemed to raise a barrier in her 
 path. Algernon was no longer Algernon ; she 
 was to meet Lord Hautonville, and a chill came 
 over her heart as she tried to practise the un- 
 wonted and unwished-for sounds. Then the 
 object of her soul's dearest attachment was to 
 be snatched from her eyes, almost in the mo- 
 ment of meeting them : and though the recol- 
 lection of her own danger was the last consi- 
 deration to present itself, yet when remembrance 
 of the letter which she had in her possession 
 forced upon her mind a consciousness of the 
 defenceless condition in which a few hours would 
 leave her, she shuddered with terror of she 
 knew not what, but felt such instinctive repug- 
 nance to proclaim her fears, and the cause of 
 them, that she resolved, under accumulating dif- 
 ficulty, still to place her sole trust in that mer- 
 ciful assistance, the support of which her heart
 
 232 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 began to acknowledge experimentally in mo- 
 ments of trial. 
 
 " Oh ! will not one look repay me for all this 
 uneasiness, if it beams with the affection of dear 
 old times; and why do I admit these mean 
 doubts to overwhelm me? I will cast them from 
 me, and sit musing here no longer ! " 
 
 So saying, Zorilda started from her reverie, 
 and ran to put the last finish to her little pre- 
 parations, by dressing every part of the house 
 with fresh gathered flowers. After which she 
 culled a bunch of 
 
 Valley Lilies, whiter 
 
 " Than Lecla's love ;" 
 
 with which to decorate her marble brow, and 
 had scarcely ended her simple toilette, when 
 carriage wheels were heard. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hartland, followed by the servants, hastened to 
 the hall. Zorilda, with beating heart, blanched 
 cheek, and trembling knees, lingered on the 
 stairs, unable to move, but the first accents of 
 the well-known voice were, " Where is Zoe ? " 
 The vital glow re-animated her countenance.
 
 WHO IS SHE? 233 
 
 and in a few short seconds she was folded in die 
 arms of Algernon. 
 
 Never was the meeting of two lovers more 
 rapturous. Zorilda's innocent and confiding 
 nature tasted such blessed assurance in this joy- 
 ful instant, as repaid an age of keenest anguish, 
 while Algernon's astonished gaze, seemed to 
 declare that no such loveliness had ever burst 
 upon his senses, as met his eyes in the modest, 
 yet dazzling beauty of her on whom they now 
 were rivetted. 
 
 Zorilda drew back, surprised in her turn by 
 the changes which time had wrought, Algernon 
 was a perfect model of manly grace, and all the 
 easy elegance and polish of fashionable society 
 were added to the native symmetry which dis- 
 tinguished his appearance. A reproachful call 
 from Mrs. Hartland, quickly interrupted this 
 short-lived transport of uncertain bliss. Alas ! 
 it was never to return. Zorilda loved, and was 
 beloved ; but, she knew not why, she had not 
 the same pleasure which she formerly felt in 
 Algernon's company. There was a fire in his 
 manner of looking at her, and a bold familiarity
 
 234 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 in his mode of address, which discomposed her, 
 and made her desire to shrink into herself, with- 
 out being able to explain to her own breast the 
 reason why she did so. While he was sum- 
 moned to hear the story of his altered fortunes, 
 she threw herself, exhausted by the variety of 
 her emotions, into a chair near a window, that 
 opened on a trellised alcove, which she had 
 carefully entwined with every sweet climber that 
 perfumes the garden, to breathe a welcome for 
 him she loved. Bursting into an agony of tears, 
 she looked upon her work and exclaimed : 
 
 " Flowers ! you have lost your fragrance. 
 The simple joys of nature are no longer here. 
 They are become ' dim recollected feelings of 
 the days of youth and early love/ Dreamer ! 
 thy doom is sealed ! What has Zorilda in 
 common with the world's attractions? Alger- 
 non is lost to me ! Yes, these are not the looks 
 of Algernon ! Why do I turn abashed from 
 the companion of my childhood ? " 
 
 Zorilda's meditations were interrupted by a 
 summons from Mr. Hartland, who informed 
 her that he must leave Henbury early on the
 
 WHO IS SHE? 235 
 
 following day, and desired to commit several 
 matters of importance to her care during his 
 absence. Dinner succeeded, and the evening 
 was chiefly occupied in preparations of one kind 
 or other for the ensuing journey ; but notwith- 
 standing the vigilance of Mrs. Hartland, and 
 her constant endeavour to monopolize her son, 
 he found opportunity from time to time, to say 
 a few words in secret to Zorilda. 
 
 " Keep up your spirits, Zoe ; you shall be 
 Lady Hautonville one of these days ! I am 
 resolved upon it, so do not be frightened ; but 
 we have much to do, and you have much to 
 learn. You must be schooled for the new order 
 of society which you are about to enter. No- 
 thing can be more unlike the world than your 
 present style of manners, dress, appearance. 
 My wife can never be such a country lassie as 
 you are ; but I will have you put in the right 
 way. I know a charming person, La Baronne 
 de Torsi, who will be happy to do me a kind- 
 ness. She will have pleasure in forming you 
 to the standard of good taste. The materials, 
 my Zoe, are perfect, but you want the air, the
 
 236 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 fashion, the indispensable tone of society, which 
 you could not attain in this wretched place. 
 What a pair are these poor old souls, my father 
 and mother ! They seem to have the year o?ie, 
 printed in large letters on every look, word, and 
 gesture. We must bury them in the woods at 
 March dale-court, while you and I figure away 
 on the theatres of glorious France and Italy. I 
 am sick of Old England's roast beef, and find 
 nothing good or agreeable off the Continent. 
 Good night, my lovely Zo ; we will make all our 
 arrangements on my return from this horrible 
 funeral." 
 
 Algernon wished to seal these words, which 
 were but jarring sounds to Zorilda's ear, by a 
 kiss, but she turned, and hastily disengaging 
 her hand from his, flew to the sanctuary of her 
 chamber, there to reflect, through a sleepless 
 night, upon the miseries of her destiny. 
 
 " La Baronne de Torsi ! a stranger, a fo- 
 reigner ; she to form my mind, my manners, my 
 tastes anew, to the frivolous and artificial ? I will 
 have no such monitress. Is this the language of 
 true love? I know it not by these signs.
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 237 
 
 There is no prison, however dreary, no wilder- 
 ness however wild, into which Zorilda would not 
 accompany the being whom she loved, to suffer 
 pain and privation, and if not permitted her to 
 shield, yet still to share each pang, would be her 
 bosom's joy; but thus scorned, thus disdained, 
 it must not, cannot be." 
 
 Morning came, and found the poor mourner 
 still a prey to the tortures of wounded sensi- 
 bility. Mr. Hartland and his son were to set 
 out so early, that she was spared the humiliation 
 of shewing how much power Algernon possessed 
 over her affections. As he went down stairs he 
 knocked at Zorilda's door, and slipped a bit of 
 paper underneath, on which were hastily writ- 
 ten, with a pencil, the following words : 
 
 " In the tumult of yesterday's meeting, I for- 
 got to warn you against receiving any communi- 
 calion, either by letter or visit, from any one till 
 my return. Addio, carissima, Algernon." 
 
 " Hah ! " thought Zorilda, " Can this be the 
 explanation ? Is Algernon the unseen guardian 
 who has been watching over me, and to whose 
 friendly care 1 have been indebted for avoiding
 
 238 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 danger, though I know not of what nature? 
 But no : the letter which I received is not in 
 his hand-writing, and the sentiments which it 
 expresses, so full of delicate consideration for the 
 unhappy Zorilda, are alas ! little in unison with 
 the language of yesterday evening, which still 
 echoes through my heart. Nothing but mystery 
 appears to surround me whichever way my eyes 
 are directed." 
 
 On meeting Mrs. Hartland in the breakfast- 
 parlour, Zorilda's looks too plainly bespoke the 
 state of her mind to leave a doubt of what she 
 endured. A few constrained questions and an- 
 swers broke the rigid silence which would other- 
 wise have marked this unsocial meeting. 
 
 Mrs. Hartland rang the bell, and ordering 
 the tea things to be taken away, desired her 
 young companion to wait her return; and 
 quitting the room, left Zorilda in new perplexity 
 at what was next to happen. 
 
 Mrs. Hartland re-appeared in a few minutes, 
 bringing an ink-stand and paper in her hand. 
 Shutting the door, and laying these upon a 
 table, she ordered Zorilda, in a stern voice, to
 
 WHO IS SHE? 239 
 
 sit down opposite to her, with which the latter 
 having complied, she proceeded to unfold her 
 object. 
 
 " It is no longer possible," said Mrs. Hart- 
 land, " to be silent. The time is come when it is 
 necessary to explain my views, and come to an 
 open understanding with you. Your attach- 
 ment to my son cannot be mistaken, and I must 
 tell you plainly, that it highly displeases Mr. 
 Hartland and me. You should recollect our 
 relative positions : you, an unknown orphan, 
 discovered, accidentally, in a gipsey camp, with- 
 out name, family, or pretensions ; redeemed 
 from the infamy of associating with a lawless 
 horde by the charity which brought you here, 
 are finely repaying the protectors of your child- 
 hood ! Can you suppose, for a moment, that 
 because you were permitted during infancy to 
 be the companion of my son, and allowed, in 
 after life to share the instructions which were 
 bestowed on him by Mr. Playfair ; can you, I 
 repeat, imagine for a single instant that you 
 were ever designed to be his wife ? Do you 
 think that a pretty face is sufficient qualification
 
 240 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 for the future Countess of Marchdale, or that 
 Lord Hautonville's parents would ever look 
 upon him again, were the wiles of an artful girl to 
 betray his honourable mind into a remembrance 
 of the boyish vows which children make to 
 each other before they comprehend the nature 
 of a promise ? There is only one act by which 
 you can ease my mind, and restore yourself to 
 that place in my regards from which, I confess 
 with regret, that you have fallen. Here are 
 paper, pen, and ink ; I have never found you 
 untrue, and shall depend with confidence upon 
 your written assurance, regularly signed, for my 
 full satisfaction, that from this moment, you not 
 only renounce all pretension to an alliance with 
 my family ; but should a romantic spirit of chi- 
 valry induce Algernon to forget what he owes 
 to himself, and his father and mother, by offer- 
 ing his hand to you, that you here pledge your- 
 self solemnly to repel such proposals, and reject 
 every advance on the part of one whose death 
 would be preferable, in my eyes to a marriage 
 inconsistent with his rank in society. I have 
 now spoken without reserve. You know my
 
 WHO IS SHE? 241 
 
 feelings, and if you are disposed to gratify me 
 by the sacrifice which I require, there is nothing 
 which I will leave undone to forward your in- 
 terests. I will prevail on my son to settle some- 
 thing handsome upon you. I will write to my 
 friends, and obtain some situation for you as 
 soon as possible, in which your talents may se- 
 cure your future independence ; or it may be, 
 that when you are seen and known out of this 
 deep retirement, some suitable match may pre- 
 sent itself, and — — " 
 
 Zorilda had resolved to hear out Mrs. Hart- 
 land's harangue in patient silence, and restrain 
 every emotion which it might excite; but though 
 she had prepared for want of kindness, she did 
 not anticipate the coarseness by which she had 
 just been assailed. Notwithstanding every ef- 
 fort, or rather, perhaps, because she exerted 
 herself beyond her powers, her eyes grew dim, 
 her head became giddy, and she fell back sense- 
 less in her chair. 
 
 When she revived from the state of insensi- 
 bility into which she had been thrown by the 
 indelicacy of Mrs. Hartland's proceedings, she 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 found herself alone with Rachel, whose tender 
 assiduity restored her faculties once more. She 
 had been removed to her apartment, and was 
 laid on her bed, from which she now rose in 
 haste, and, dismissing her faithful attendant with 
 thanks, she summoned up all the resolution of 
 her character, entered Mrs. Hartland's dressing- 
 room, where she found that lady seated at her 
 table, writing with perfect sang froid, and calmly 
 addressed her : 
 
 " Madam," said Zorilda, in a gentle but un- 
 faltering voice, " I come to give you an answer, 
 which the accident of sudden indisposition has 
 delayed. I thank you for your care of my in- 
 fant years. I am grateful also for the asylum 
 which I have since found under your roof. 
 These acknowledgments are all that I have to 
 bestow, and I confess that they are a poor re- 
 muneration for the favours which you have con- 
 ferred upon a hapless stranger." 
 
 " My dear girl," said Mrs. Hartland, inter* 
 rupting the lovely but unfortunate Zorilda, 
 " you can make a return -which will more than 
 repay me. Certainly I have been every thing to
 
 WHO IS SHE? 243 
 
 you, and I am glad that you appreciate as you 
 ought to do that kindness which snatched you 
 from periJs worse than death, and has cherished 
 you ever since in the enjoyment of every com- 
 fort. You have sense enough to be conscious 
 that you have not been a costless charge ; but I 
 only mention your entire destitution, your de- 
 pendence for every morsel of bread, every arti- 
 cle of clothing, protection, tenderness, education, 
 companionship, only, I say, to show how greatly I 
 shall estimate the act by which you, who are aware 
 of the extent of your obligations, are enabled at 
 one stroke of your pen to cancel them all. Here, 
 my love, I have drawn up the promissory note, 
 as I may call it, which wipes off all scores be- 
 tween us. Here, my dear, though you have no 
 sirname, nor for the matter of that, perhaps, 
 Christian either, for you may have been born 
 amongst the Turks or the Jews, and never bap- 
 tized at all, for any thing that we can tell to the 
 contrary ; sign the three syllables, Zorilda, whe- 
 ther given to you at the font or in the gipsey's 
 camp, it is all the same to me. Write your 
 m 2
 
 244 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 name in a fair hand, opposite to this seal ; de- 
 clare it to be your act and deed ; I will call Ra- 
 chel to witness the transaction, and our business 
 is done ; I demand no legal forms, as my confi- 
 dence in your truth " 
 
 " Must be your only guarantee, Madam," 
 replied Zorilda. " I will not sign any docu- 
 ment to resign possessions to which I lay no 
 claim. Whatever kindness may be manifested 
 towards me during my pilgrimage on earth, 
 must be freely given and as freely received; 
 but you need not dread me ; I will not requite 
 ungratefully the obligations which I owe. If 
 you really confide in my truth, prove it by re- 
 lying on what I say ; and as to my future fate, 
 discharge your mind, I pray you, of all anxiety 
 upon that account. Grant me but a short time 
 to make some trifling arrangements for my de- 
 parture, and you shall be satisfied in all things. 
 I can never be too thankful for the instructions 
 which you permitted me to derive from that 
 much valued friend, Mr. Playfair, and upon 
 these I shall depend for being no longer a tax 
 upon your bounty. The God in whom I trust,
 
 WHO IS SHE i 245 
 
 will hear the orphan's prayer, and bless my 
 humble exertions." 
 
 " Then, Madam," answered Mrs. Hartland, 
 " am I to understand, that you refuse to sign 
 the paper which I hold in my hand ? " 
 
 M It is most reluctantly that I refuse to com- 
 ply with any requisition of yours," said Zorilda ; 
 " but I am determined not to sign that paper. 
 Possessing no rights, making no demand, I will 
 not assume the merit of renouncing that to 
 which I do not assert a title. Were I bound by 
 an engagement such as terrifies you to antici- 
 pate, I should be unworthy of the choice, unde- 
 serving of the affection with which I could 
 basely trifle, and of which I could thus make a 
 cruel, cold, and heartless surrender " 
 
 M Quit my presence this instant, artful and 
 unnatural girl," retorted Mrs. Hartland : " If 
 you are resolved not to comply with my reason- 
 able desire, I am equally so, that you shall not 
 reap any harvest from your obstinacy and dis- 
 obedience. Quit me, I say, this moment, and 
 do not presume to leave your apartment. I give 
 you one week to consider of your conduct ; if at
 
 246 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 the end of that time you repent of your beha- 
 viour to me, and declare yourself ready to sub- 
 mit, all shall be forgotten ; but if you persevere 
 in your present shameful resistance to my will 
 and pleasure, prepare to depart. I shall take 
 measures in the interim for your removal, and 
 shall not consult your convenience as to the 
 time or manner of it." 
 
 Zorilda withdrew, and having gained her 
 prison-chamber, laid her aching head upon the 
 pillow, revolving in her mind this crisis of her 
 present circumstances. The cup of sorrow 
 seemed now filled to the brim ; one drop more, 
 and it would overflow ; and death, the last friend 
 of despair, would come, she thought, to her aid, 
 and terminate her trials. It was not the rigorous 
 treatment which she had just experienced — it 
 was not confinement — that she deplored ; on the 
 contrary, solitude and repose were as soothing 
 as they were become necessary to her harassed 
 spirits ; but the gentle, the affectionate Zorilda, 
 had never till now rebelled against the autho- 
 rity of her whom she still reflected on as her 
 benefactress ; and she reproached herself with
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 247 
 
 having inflicted pain. Unaccustomed to resist, 
 she wondered how she could have denied a re- 
 quest of Mrs. Hartland's. Yet to yield was as 
 repugnant to every sentiment of love and deli- 
 cacy as to every principle of truth and honour. 
 Here, then, was the final dissolution of all her 
 airy dreams. Here was the extinguishment of 
 hope, the end of wishes, the last blow to expec- 
 tation. 
 
 " How merciful the ' blindness kindly given ' 
 which prevents us penetrating the dark veil of 
 future events ! " exclaimed the meek sufferer: 
 " but the time is come. How little did I ima- 
 gine it so close at hand when the friendship of 
 my beloved Mrs. Gordon is to be tried ! Her 
 friendship will not fail me in the hour of need ! " 
 
 Zorilda was at a loss whether or not to ap- 
 prise the family at Drumcairn of her intentions 
 by a letter which should precede her arrival in 
 Scotland, but after a short consideration deter- 
 mind against doing so. Her departure, she 
 felt, had become too necessary to leave any 
 option, and it was better not to hazard the pos - 
 sibility of Mrs. Gordon's recommending her to
 
 248 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 postpone so adventurous an undertaking. Be- 
 sides, if her elopement were to excite a desire in 
 those she left behind to trace her retreat, in- 
 quiry would naturally be directed, in the first 
 instance, to the only quarter from which it 
 might be supposed that authentic information 
 respecting her movements and designs might be 
 obtained. She therefore resolved on prosecuting 
 her journey without giving Mrs. Gordon any 
 reason to expect her, certain as she felt of the 
 welcome that awaited her coming at all times in 
 the breast of that true friend. 
 
 Those only whose hearts are capable of such 
 attachment as dwelt within Zorilda's bosom can 
 form any idea of the overwhelming grief with 
 which she contemplated bidding farewell to the 
 scenes of her childhood, and with them to every 
 object round which her strong, but tender affec- 
 tion, had entwined itself from earliest infancy ; 
 yet as misfortune had begun to teach her 
 the happy art which can draw good from ap- 
 parent evil, as the bee extracts honey from the 
 vilest weeds, she felt glad that the prohibition 
 which forbade her usual exercise preserved her
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 249 
 
 from the pain of dwelling in detail on every 
 leaf and flower associated with fondest memory. 
 " Mrs. Hartland's decree is a kind one," said 
 she. " I shall break my bonds at once, and not 
 weaken resolution by re-visiting those objects, 
 which to gaze upon again would but enfeeble its 
 powers. Algernon — once beloved — oh still be- 
 loved, must I tear you from this heart ? There is 
 the sting ; but the sacrifice shall be finished.''' 
 
 Some days elapsed ; Zorilda made an effort to 
 occupy herself in preparation for her intended 
 flight. Rachel's watchful care ministered all the 
 consolation which kindness could impart, and 
 through her activity and address, the manner of 
 the journey was planned with so much circum- 
 spection, that nothing further remained to im- 
 pede its commencement. The approaching 
 alterations in the establishment at Henbury 
 afforded Rachel an opportunity of disengaging 
 herself from further services as a domestic with- 
 out exciting suspicion respecting her future in- 
 tentions ; and having given notice to Mrs. Hart- 
 land that she meant to leave her, she deter- 
 m 5
 
 250 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 mined on accompanying Zorilda wherever her 
 fortunes might lead the way. At the end of a 
 week, just as the time was drawing near when 
 some account might be expected from March- 
 dale-court, Rachel, gliding softly into Zorilda's 
 apartment with a packet in her hand, 
 
 " This is for you, my dear young lady ; but 
 it is not the letter which you were hoping for 
 from the North." 
 
 Zorilda started, and remembering the caution 
 which she had received from Algernon at part- 
 ing, concluded this to be the communication 
 against which he had warned her in the slip of 
 paper which he thrust under her door just before 
 he left Henbury. She seized the packet with 
 tremulous eagerness. It was of large dimensions, 
 and contained some hard substance. Whence 
 could it come ? what could it be ? were questions 
 which might well interest a girl of eighteen. 
 Perhaps, if truth were told, there are few of 
 either sex or any age exempt from such a mea- 
 sure of curiosity as would tempt to break the 
 seal in such a case; but in Zorilda's circum-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 251 
 
 stances every trifle was raised into importance : 
 even the parcel which she held in her hand 
 might elucidate her history and influence her 
 fate. Yet Algernon had bid her beware of re- 
 ceiving any thing of this nature. He therefore 
 knew whence it came, and if advantageous to 
 her, would he have advised her to return it un- 
 opened ? Certainly not, and he should find, 
 that however he might conduct himself in the 
 end towards her, she would not begin by doubt- 
 ing either his truth or kindness. After a mo- 
 ment's pause, she gave back the packet to 
 Rachel, who stood gaping with expectation, and 
 longing for the unfolding of its contents. 
 
 " Here, Rachel, I am afraid to open this. I 
 know nothing of it, and think that there is some 
 mistake. It may be a parcel of Mrs. Hartland's ; 
 it cannot be for me ; at least I will inquire who 
 sent it, before I take off the packing." 
 
 " Lord ha' mercy, my dear child," answered 
 Rachel, " did I not tell you that it comes 
 from vour old and fast friend Mr. Plavfair ? 
 I'm sure if I did not, it was the joy I felt in 
 bringing it to you, that made me neglect to
 
 252 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 name him. I thought you would know all 
 about it the minute you set your two eyes upon 
 the cover, and wondered to see you so slow in 
 coming at the inside." 
 
 " Thank heaven ! " ejaculated Zorilda. "Here 
 is assistance in the hour of need. Here at least 
 is sympathy, when my dejected spirit is cast 
 down." 
 
 Tearing off the wrapping paper with eager- 
 ness, she found a letter, directed to " My dear 
 Pupil," in the well known hand of her tutor, 
 accompanied by a large packet without any ad- 
 dress. 
 
 " This will explain the other," said Zorilda, 
 " and comes, I know, from one in whom I may 
 confide. I will read his letter first. Now, dear 
 Rachel, leave me, and if I have any good news 
 to communicate you may be sure of hearing it. 
 You are the only being here who will care to 
 listen to aught that affects me, and you shall 
 not be kept long in ignorance." 
 
 Rachel quitted the room while Zorilda un- 
 folded the letter, and to her astonishment read 
 as follows ;
 
 WHO IS SHE? 253 
 
 " I have, my dear child, always endeavoured 
 to impress upon your young heart a practical 
 belief in the God who watches over His people. 
 Your quick sensibility has been more inclined 
 to murmuring than thankfulness, and the appa- 
 rent hardness of that dispensation which left you 
 like a fallen star, dropped from the clouds upon 
 earth without home or parents or worldly pro- 
 vision of any kind, seemed to furnish excuse for 
 the tardiness of your submission ; but, inasmuch 
 as you have felt inclined to doubt the care of an 
 Almighty ruler, as relating to yourself, in such 
 proportion will you now assuredly pour out the 
 incense of gratitude and wonder, when you hear 
 the tale which I have to unfold, and ponder on 
 those remarkable coincidences which render me 
 the medium of an accompanying packet, which 
 I have taken means to convey by a safe hand 
 through which it will find its way to yours, 
 without the knowledge of any one at Henbury 
 except the faithful Rachel. May this interest- 
 ing document, which I now send you, prove the 
 forerunner of future good, and may you expe-
 
 254 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 rience as much satisfaction in receiving as I feel 
 in imparting it ! 
 
 " I am yet to tell you how this packet most 
 unexpectedly fell into the possession of your old 
 and affectionate friend. On my way to Paris 
 I lingered at Abbeville, with intention of re- 
 visiting those haunts endeared to memory by 
 our favourite Petrarch. While staying at the 
 inn a message was brought to me, saying that a 
 dying gentleman, who lived at no great distance, 
 was desirous to speak with me, and requested 
 my immediate attention to his request. At a 
 loss to account for such an invitation, yet fearful 
 of giving pain to a fellow-creature in extremity, 
 if I waited to make further inquiry, I followed 
 a servant who led the way, and in a few minutes 
 was introduced to the bedside of Colonel Dal- 
 ton. He had a manly and noble countenance, 
 but appeared in the last stage of decline. Fix- 
 ing his fine expressive eyes, which were lighted 
 by that meteor gleam which burns brightest on 
 the confines of the tomb, upon my face, as if to 
 read my character there — he extended his ema- 
 ciated hand, and said, with a feeble voice,
 
 WHO IS SHE? 255 
 
 " i I thank you Sir. This is an act of kind- 
 ness which will relieve my mind, and soothe the 
 last moments of a departing spirit. Since I 
 have been sensible that my hour is at hand, and 
 that I shall never leave this place, the packet 
 which I am now going to give into your care, 
 has been subject of deep solicitude to me. I 
 lately sent a faithful servant, on whose integrity 
 I could have relied for its safe delivery — to pre- 
 pare my sister, who lives in Sussex, for my ar- 
 rival — but Heaven has ordered otherwise. I 
 readied Abbeville a few days ago, attended only 
 by my groom, whom I have not known long 
 enough to depend upon. This packet contains 
 some property of value, and a narrative which 
 I drew up years ago. These are of the deepest 
 interest to a young and lovely Spaniard who re- 
 sides somewhere in England, with a familv of 
 the name of Hartland. The only name I know 
 for her is Zorilda, but I do not mean to trouble 
 you with seeking her out. Convey this, together 
 with a box which I shall commit to your keep- 
 ing, to my sister, Lady Carleton, whose address 
 I will give you. She will do the rest, if you
 
 256 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 explain my wishes now expressed to you. You 
 will greatly oblige me by this act of benevolence. 
 Strength fails me. Your countenance inspires 
 belief that you will fulfil the sacred trust which 
 I repose in you. I am a soldier, and honour is 
 the soldier's bond.' 
 
 " He grew faint. I gave him some reviving 
 drops, which were at hand, and, after promising 
 to execute his commission with my best zeal, 
 proceeded at intervals, as he could listen to the 
 recital, to inform him of the extraordinary pro- 
 vidence which had thrown in his way the very 
 person of all others most suited to his purpose. 
 He was much struck with the detail which I 
 gave him, and during three succeeding days en- 
 tirely devoted to him, I had the satisfaction of 
 holding such conversation, as, with the blessing 
 of Heaven upon its motive, I have good reason 
 to believe deprived death of its sting. I took 
 charge of his will, and other papers of val ue, for 
 his family. He expired without a struggle, and 
 having stayed to attend his mortal remains to 
 the tomb, I travelled back to perform my vow. 
 Having seen Ladv Carleton, I have discharged
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 257 
 
 my mission as far as regards her ; but send your 
 parcel, of which I made no mention to her la- 
 dyship, by a sure conveyance to your own hands. 
 On my return to England (for I am once more 
 setting out for the Continent) I hope to see you. 
 Having now fortified your mind, I trust, by the 
 proof which I send you of your Heavenly Fa- 
 ther's care, I feel it my duty to put that faith 
 and confidence, which such assurance ought to 
 inspire, to a severe test, by communicating in- 
 telligence of another kind ; but I should not be 
 your true friend were I to suppress what has 
 come to my knowledge ; and through a coward- 
 ly dread of inflicting a present pang, incur the 
 danger of contributing, by my silence, to your 
 far greater suffering at a future day. 
 
 " I am too well acquainted, my dear Zorilda, 
 with the human heart, and the signs by which 
 its feelings are naturally expressed, to be igno- 
 rant of the attachment which sprang up under 
 my own observation between Algernon and you. 
 I beheld its rise and progress, and lamented 
 what I was unable to prevent. I knew the dis- 
 similarity of your characters, and the difference
 
 258 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 of those motives by which you were severally 
 actuated. Algernon, selfish and domineering 
 from his birth, regarded no object except inas- 
 much as it increased the sum of his own gratifi- 
 cation. You were ever generous, affectionate, 
 and disinterested. Such disparity I was well 
 aware could never produce a happy union ; but 
 I had no means of averting the perils which I 
 foresaw. Events have confirmed my presages, 
 and Algernon's career since he left home has 
 been marked by an utter dereliction of every 
 principle with which I vainly sought to imbue 
 his mind. It is with grief I inform you that his 
 extravagance and dissipation have arrived at a 
 fearful height, and the last account which I have 
 heard of him, is the worst. Overwhelmed with 
 debt, for the payment of which his future pros- 
 pects are pledged beyond, it is said, what the 
 estates of Marchdale, if bequeathed to him, can 
 liquidate, burthened as they are already; he 
 has supplied present necessities by borrowing at 
 usurious interest, till, on the failure of even this 
 ruinous resource, he has condescended to receive 
 pecuniary assistance from an opera singer, to
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 259 
 
 whom many people believe that he is married, 
 and in whose company he is gone to England. 
 
 " Whatever be the nature of the tie which 
 binds Algernon to such society, it is your part, 
 my child, to wean your affections from a man 
 who is unworthy of them. The effort will be 
 painful, but it is necessary to your peace. 
 
 " Farewell, my dear young friend, may you 
 be sustained through every trial of life, by the 
 divine protection," &c. &c. &c. 
 
 Zorilda's emotions as she concluded Mr. 
 Play fair's letter, may be imagined but cannot 
 be described. Surprise, curiosity, grief, and 
 indignation took alternate possession of her 
 mind. The packet accompanying the letter was 
 still unopened. What mysterious interference 
 of Providence in her behalf could it contain, 
 and coming too from a stranger's hand, that 
 should call forth her gratitude to God ? She 
 broke the seals and found an agate box with a 
 roll of paper inscribed, 
 
 "a true narrative." 
 
 Laying the former aside, she read as follows :
 
 260 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 This is indeed a tiding ! " 
 
 That fellow is a precious casket to us 
 
 Enclosing weighty things." Wallensteih. 
 
 « On a fine evening of autumn, I arrived at 
 Grenada. Fatigued after a toilsome journey, 
 I determined to halt for the night in this an- 
 cient city, and strolling into one of its magnifi- 
 cent churches, from which the congregation 
 had just issued, I wandered up and down the 
 spacious aisles, indulging in silent solitude my 
 admiration for the grand obscure of their noble 
 architecture. 
 
 "As I moved slowly forward, musing on a 
 scene which peculiarly harmonised with my love 
 for the sublime, a female figure, habited like a 
 nun, and whose features were studiously concealed 
 by a long veil, glided swiftly from behind one
 
 WHO IS SHE? 261 
 
 of the enormous pillars which supported the 
 building, laid her hand hastily upon my arm, 
 and in a low tone, addressed the following words 
 to me in the Spanish language : 
 
 " l I have marked your countenance ; it be- 
 speaks intrepidity and benevolence ; if you pos- 
 sess these qualities, meet me to-night precisely 
 at twelve o'clock without fail, at the western 
 gate of the ancient palace of the Moors.' 
 
 " The vision vanished, but the solemnity of 
 voice and manner in which these words were 
 pronounced, convinced me that the adventure 
 had something extraordinary in its nature. It 
 might be a case of imprisonment or distress. 
 Conjecture was vain, but there was an earnest- 
 ness in the nun's manner which was irresistible. 
 I resolved on going armed, and taking a friend 
 along with me to guard against a surprise. 
 Exactly at the appointed hour I reached the 
 western inlet to that once splendid residence, 
 now superb vestige of former days, which had 
 been named as the place of rendezvous. At the 
 moment of my arrival, the same veiled figure 
 whom I had seen in the church, appeared with
 
 262 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 a small lamp in her hand. Looking fearfully 
 around, she inquired whether I was alone. I 
 answered in the affirmative, having left my com- 
 panion at a sufficient distance to prevent our 
 being overheard. 
 
 "'Then,' said my conductress, 'fear nothing; 
 and follow me, if you are prepared to undertake 
 a commission which requires secrecy and kind- 
 ness to execute it efficiently.' 
 
 " I hesitated, and drew back; but instantly 
 perceiving the doubt which crossed my mind, 
 the Nun added, with eagerness, ( Fear not ; I 
 will detain you but a few minutes. The only 
 trial to which your courage will be exposed is 
 surmounted in the moment of your entrance 
 here. You suspect my truth, and the dark 
 labyrinth through which I am going to lead the 
 way, may well appal a stranger; but trust me, 
 and I will not deceive you.' 
 
 " Ashamed to express any further unwilling- 
 ness, and impressed by the mild dignity of her 
 manner, I suffered myself to be drawn inside a 
 small door which led down a flight of narrow 
 stone stairs to a long winding subterranean pas-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 263 
 
 sage. My guide went swiftly forward, encou- 
 raging me to follow. We made many turnings, 
 and passed several doors on the right and left, 
 which seemed to lead to other passages ; but all 
 was still and silent as the grave, except when the 
 large heavy drops, that lined the vaulted roofs, 
 fell to the ground with loud and sullen splash. 
 My sword was slight defence, if ambush lurked 
 within these walls; but it was too late to recede. 
 The faint cry of an infant at length struck upon 
 my ear, and sent a sudden thrill through my 
 frame. 
 
 " ' Hush, beloved babe ! ' said my companion, 
 as she pushed back a bolt, and we entered a 
 small vaulted chamber, at the extremity of which 
 a little silver lamp streamed its feeble rays upon 
 a spectacle of woe — the lifeless corpse of a young 
 and exquisitely beautiful woman, who seemed 
 but that moment to have breathed her last, lay 
 extended on the ground; from the chill damps 
 of which, her delicate limbs appeared to have 
 been only protected by a pallet of straw, over 
 which was thrown, by way of coverlet, a rich 
 mantle of scarlet cloth lined with ermine. The
 
 264> TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 Nun, raising this splendid pall, discovered to 
 my view a new-born infant within its folds. 
 The little creature had just awakened from 
 sleep; and my conductress taking the mantle 
 from the dead body, wrapped it carefully round 
 the child, which, after pressing affectionately to 
 her bosom, she delivered into my arms. Then 
 arranging the garments of the deceased, which 
 resembled her own costume, with pious care, 
 next placing an ebony cross, or prie Dien, on 
 the breast, and winding a string of beads round 
 the alabaster arms, which she folded across the 
 bosom, the friendly Nun threw back her veil, 
 and with a heavenly expression of devotional 
 tenderness, knelt down at the side of the corpse, 
 and with uplifted hands and eyes, briefly, but 
 fervently, implored a blessing on the departed 
 spirit, committing that which had but just left 
 its earthly tabernacle to the Eternal Guardian 
 of souls. Then printing a fond kiss on the cold 
 lips which were unconscious of the tender fare- 
 well, she seized a packet which lay near the head 
 of the dead lady, and disposing it within her 
 cloak, snatched up the lamp which had guided
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 265 
 
 our steps to this abode of death, leaving the 
 other to become fainter and fainter, and then 
 expire over the dead. She pointed towards the 
 door, which having passed, she bolted, and we 
 again pursued our way through the same pas- 
 sages by which we entered the vaults, till, turn- 
 ing short by the foot of a staircase which I had 
 not seen before, she led me to a different portal 
 from that at which I met her : stopping there 
 before she proceeded to unlock the outside door, 
 and uncovering her face, she desired me to attend 
 to her instructions. She appeared about five 
 and thirty, of a fine figure, and her countenance 
 was remarkable for its expression of serenity 
 and sweetness. 
 
 " ' Preserve this precious infant,' said she, 
 < with fidelity and affection. Take her to your 
 own country; and in this packet, which I con- 
 sign to your honourable trust, you will find 
 resources for giving her the best education. 
 Her father is an English nobleman, her mother 
 was lovely and virtuous, but deceived. She left 
 the convent in which I dwell to join her hus- 
 band ; but a fictitious marriage, which she be- 
 
 VOL. I. n
 
 266 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 lieved to have been performed according to the 
 most sacred rites of your Church, left him who 
 had basely practised on her confidence free to 
 desert his victim, who died of grief after giving 
 birth to this dear babe. She resumed her Nun's 
 habit ere she laid her down in death ; and made 
 me vow to send her daughter to England, but 
 not to the guardianship of her father. You will 
 not disappoint my hopes; I feel assured that 
 you will watch this little treasure with fostering 
 kindness. Adieu ! May the God of the or- 
 phan be with you ! Depart in peace ! ' 
 
 " So saying, she waved her hand ; and giving 
 me no time for more than a sincere but hasty 
 promise, urged me gently forward, and closing 
 the entrance, she retraced her steps, returning 
 into the building, while I proceeded to grope 
 along at random in quest of my friend, who suf- 
 fered the greatest anxiety, fearing that I had 
 fallen a prey to my imprudence and foolish 
 thirst for romance. Apprehensive of my fate, 
 he continued wandering round and round the 
 Moorish palace, seeking me in every direction. 
 We met at length. I related my adventure,
 
 WHO IS SHE? 267 
 
 and shall procure the signature of my friend to 
 this account of it, that she to whom it is most 
 interesting may hereafter find the best proof 
 which I can give her of its accuracy. 
 
 " It was but a slight deviation from the truth 
 to proclaim, on my return to quarters, that I had 
 found the infant. Having procured an excel- 
 lent nurse, I placed my little charge in her care. 
 The child grew in strength and beauty, and be- 
 came as dear to me as if it had been my own. 
 My duty obliged me frequently to change place 
 and encounter peril, which, to spare my young 
 ward, I settled her and her nurse in a delightful 
 and wholesome situation in the province of Cas- 
 tille, resolving not to disturb them till I could 
 convey the child to an English school. During 
 my absence the nurse died. I was not informed 
 of the event. Zorilda fell into the hands of an 
 unprincipled wretch, the wife of a soldier, who 
 immediately perceived that she could turn her 
 theft to lucrative profit. This woman carefully 
 concealed the child, wandering from place to 
 place to elude pursuit, and a t length, having 
 . n 2
 
 26 S TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 crossed the sea with her booty, disposed of the 
 little girl to a band of gipsies. 
 
 " It was a long time before I gained any in- 
 telligence respecting Zorilda's fate, and when at 
 last my mind was relieved from its solicitude, I 
 was far away in India, and it appeared to me 
 that I could do nothing better for my young 
 charge, than leave her quietly in the safe asy- 
 lum which the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Hart- 
 land had provided for her. My appearing to 
 prefer my claim could not, I thought, benefit 
 the condition of Zorilda. I was neither enabled 
 to clear up the mystery of her birth, nor offer 
 any clue to the discovery of her father. Inter- 
 ference on my part might lessen the interest con- 
 ceived towards her by those benefactors who 
 imagined their rights to be undisputed, while 
 her noble parent, whoever he might be, coming 
 to the knowledge of circumstances which were 
 not intended to be divulged, and perhaps 
 alarmed in consequence for his own reputation, 
 might employ some artful means to obtain pos- 
 session of his daughter. This reasoning satisfied
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 269 
 
 me that the wisest plan was to lie by, and make 
 no stir in the matter ; but suffering things for 
 the present to take their course, wait patiently 
 till the full age, or marriage of Zorilda, should 
 furnish occasion for the final relinquishment of 
 my guardianship. 
 
 " The sum originally deposited with me by 
 the Nun has increased to five thousand pounds 
 British, for which amount, a check upon my 
 banker in London will be found sealed up in a 
 packet containing a diamond cross, a bracelet of 
 hair, and a miniature portrait. 
 
 " I had presumed to hope that I might one 
 day deliver these articles of value with my own 
 hands to their interesting possessor, and taste 
 the pleasure of recalling to her remembrance 
 the welcome with which she used to receive me 
 at her nurse Rueda's house, when I went laden 
 with fruit and flowers to visit my charming little 
 play-fellow. Providence has ordained it other- 
 wise, and death arrests my progress. 
 
 " The mantle of scarlet cloth, lined with er- 
 mine, which I wished to preserve and restore 
 with the rest, was stolen from me. I commit all
 
 210 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 that remains to the care of Mr. Playfair, that 
 excellent, may I venture to call him, friend, to 
 whose goodness I am deeply indebted " 
 
 The concluding lines of this memoir were 
 scarcely legible, and traced with a pencil in cha- 
 racters so unlike the writing which preceded, as 
 to prove that an effort of expiring strength had 
 added them by way of supplement to the narra- 
 tive. A certificate was appended to it, sealed 
 and signed with the name of Charles Russell, 
 who confirmed the statement which it set forth ; 
 and Zorilda having with breathless impatience 
 devoured the entire, fell upon her knees, to 
 adore that Power which thus signally interposed 
 to sustain her in the darkest hour of adversity. 
 
 After a passionate thanksgiving offered with 
 instinctive glow from her inmost soul, the cruel 
 thought of Algernon returned with all its force. 
 Oh ! had these tidings arrived to crown his vir- 
 tuous, constant love, how blest had been Zoril- 
 da ! But, like a lamp suddenly introduced into 
 the depths of a dungeon, the light which had 
 just fallen on her history only seemed to mark 
 more clearly the desolation of her lot. She read
 
 WHO IS SHE? 271 
 
 Mr. Playfair's letter again and again, and re- 
 turned as often to die narrative of Colonel Dal- 
 ton, so absorbed in anxious scrutiny of their 
 contents, that for a long time she totally forgot 
 another inclosure which still remained unex- 
 amined. 
 
 Catching it hastily, with the eagerness of one 
 desirous to repair an ungrateful omission by in- 
 creased activity, she unfolded the other parcel, 
 and opening a box of transparent agate, drew 
 forth a splendid Maltese cross of the richest 
 brilliants, then a miniature, and lastly, a brace- 
 let of the finest soft dark hair, to which was 
 fastened a ticket, addressed " To my beloved 
 
 ZORILDA, FROM HER MOTHER." 
 
 The word Mother, that magic word, con- 
 taining within itself all that the human heart 
 intuitively acknowledges of tender and protec- 
 tive, struck at this moment on Zorilda's heart 
 with all the power of nature and novelty, while 
 her emotions almost seemed to threaten ex- 
 istence. 
 
 " Oh, my mother, my adored mother ! must I 
 lose and find you in the same instant of time ?
 
 272 TALES OF MY TJME. 
 
 Zorilda's arms would grow around that neck, 
 and shield that heavenly bosom from every grief, 
 but she is dead ! cold and dead ! This beaming 
 eye is sealed, the soft glow of this beautiful 
 cheek has faded, this angelic smile no longer 
 plays upon these coral lips which it has de- 
 serted, and for ever ! " 
 
 So raved Zorilda, as she pressed to her 
 bosom the miniature of her mother, and gazed, 
 in an agony of grief, on the portrait of her whose 
 presence, could it be restored to her fond em- 
 brace, would now, she thought, fill every void 
 in her heart, and leave no room for any other 
 love. 
 
 When the feelings are strained to their ut- 
 most, the mind falls into calm, as the raging 
 billows of the ocean subside into repose after a 
 storm of elemental strife, while resignation sits 
 above, and watches the moment to whisper 
 peace. Zorilda became gradually more com- 
 posed, and the torturing sense of her own loss 
 began to yield to less selfish considerations. 
 
 " This lovely being," said she aloud, " was 
 unhappy ; she is now inhabiting the mansions of
 
 WHO IS SHE? 273 
 
 eternal rest. Here, in this cold and cruel - 
 world, contumely and reproach might have 
 pierced her soul ; in Heaven are no tears. 
 There, in celestial communion with kindred spi- 
 rits of the just made perfect, clothed in white 
 robes, and crowned with imperishable glory, 
 amongst the highly favoured, who have drank 
 at the bitter waters of affliction, and risen puri- 
 fied by tribulation, my blessed mother stands 
 before the throne, joining her voice in the melo- 
 dious concert of everlasting hallelujahs: and 
 shall I wish her back again in this scene of sor- 
 row ? No ! But Heaven will hear my prayer, 
 and take me to her. That is all my desire, 
 all for which my longing soul now pants." 
 
 " Lord love my dear Miss Zoe, what fine 
 things are here !" exclaimed Rachel, who at 
 this moment entered the room with some re- 
 freshment which she set down on a tray before 
 Zorilda. The latter started from her seat, and 
 threw her arms round the neck of this affec- 
 tionate creature ; then, pointing to the papers, 
 told her, that they contained much interesting 
 n 5
 
 274 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 matter which should be explained at some future 
 time when she felt more equal to the task. 
 
 " Heaven be praised," said Rachel, " that you 
 have good news from any quarter to comfort 
 you, for you have little to spare, and there will 
 be even less than we enjoy already, if I do not 
 mistake, as my lady is desperately chop-fallen, 
 by reason of news which she has received 
 through this day's post ; and you and I can both 
 tell how her temper is likely to be affected. 
 Master writes her word, that he and Mr. Alger- 
 non (Lord Hautonville, I should say,) are to be 
 here the latter end of next week, and there is a 
 terrible falling off by what I can learn, in the 
 property part of the story. It seems that my 
 Lord Marchdale had power to will away all the 
 estates except one, which must go with the 
 title ; and sure enough he did not leave Master 
 a rap that he could keep from him. All the 
 bulk of his fortune is gone, they say, to a set of 
 people who have for a long time been eating 
 him out of house and home ; and I hear, more- 
 over, that what is left to the present lord is not
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 275 
 
 enough to keep up any state or style suitable 
 for a nobleman. Indeed I wish that we were 
 well out of this before the meeting of the family 
 again, for I am full certain, that we shall find 
 ourselves in troubled waters. ,, 
 
 Zorilda appeared lost in reverie during the 
 greater part of Rachel's harangue ; but, suddenly 
 awakened hy its cessation, she answered, 
 
 " Yes, dear nurse, it is time to be gone. 1 
 will not wait the return of Lord Marchdale, but 
 I have neither head nor heart to make any pre- 
 paration for departure. On your skill and ma- 
 nagement I rest for so ordering matters, that the 
 strictest secresy shall attend upon our move- 
 ments. I have the means of re-paying any 
 money necessary for our journey, but you must 
 contrive to borrow for the present. I have 
 much to say, but am exhausted, and cannot talk 
 to you more till to-morrow." 
 
 " Do not fatigue yourself, my child," replied 
 Rachel. " Blessed and praised for all things be 
 that Providence which brings round the most 
 wonderful changes in its own good time. I had 
 so many dreams about you, and my sleep of late
 
 276 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 was so uneasy, that it was foreshewn to me how 
 you would come to riches and honour, and find 
 out all about your birth and parentage, and 
 learn who you are, and " 
 
 " Oh ! stop, Rachel, stop, no more of this ;" 
 said Zorilda, whose memory was touched upon a 
 sensitive chord by these allusions to a part of 
 her history, which remained as much as ever 
 wrapped in clouds. " Go," added she, " and 
 think how we shall get away in such a manner 
 that we may avoid the possibility of being 
 traced. My mind is so agitated and confused, 
 that you must give me time to recover. Mo- 
 ments are precious. Go, dear Rachel ; lose no 
 time; but consider how we shall leave this with- 
 out suspicion. No one must be involved in any 
 difficulty or hazard on my account, and there- 
 lore our purpose must be. secret as well as its 
 execution." 
 
 " I will do every thing you desire," answered 
 Rachel ; " and moreover the whole plan is 
 already in my head. Every body knows that I 
 was going myself, and therefore no questions will 
 be asked about my trunks, in which there is
 
 277 
 
 room for your clothes as well as mine. My bro- 
 ther lives near, and will lend me whatever I 
 want. All is smooth as a bowling-green, since 
 von know who you are, and where you are 
 going." 
 
 So saying, Rachel quitted the room, and her 
 voung mistress was left to collect her scattered 
 senses. " Her last words strike upon my heart. 
 Alas ! I know as little as ever, and ' Who is 
 she?' remains unanswered," sighed poor Zo- 
 rilda, who had now leisure to reflect, and per- 
 ceive that the discovery which she had made 
 was one that left her in all her original igno- 
 rance. " But," added she, as she still mused 
 on this strange event, " it no longer avails, that 
 I have neither name, nor house, nor pretensions. 
 More knowledge than I possess, what would it 
 do for me ? Would it not only lead to hatred of 
 a father who could act so wickedly as mine has 
 done ? Why should I wish to know the man 
 who was in fact the murderer of this angelic 
 being ? It is better as it is. Oh ! if all our 
 vain wishes were heard, what wretchedness 
 should we add to our afflictions ! The councils
 
 278 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 of heaven are wiser than those of earth. We 
 know not what we ask." 
 
 Rachel returned after some interval of time, 
 elated with her contrivance, in which Zorilda 
 could find nothing to improve. It was arranged, 
 that as soon as possible Rachel was to ask for 
 her dismissal, which Mrs. Hartland was prepared 
 to give her. Her wages were paid, and the re- 
 moval of her luggage appeared a matter of 
 course. 
 
 " We will leave the house so early in the 
 morning," said Rachel, " that there will be no 
 witnesses of our departure. I will tell Mary 
 not to mind going till late into your room, and 
 not to take notice of your absence from it, as you 
 must walk for your health, and cannot submit 
 to such close imprisonment as that to which you 
 are condemned. The servants will all be glad to 
 think that you are taking the air. Mistress will 
 ask no questions, for she cares little about you, 
 and her mind is taken up with her own affairs. 
 I have already borrowed a covered cart of my 
 brother's, who will meet us at a little distance 
 from his house. You shall throw a large cloak
 
 WHO IS SHE ? 279 
 
 of mine over your dress, which will disguise you 
 completely. Even the man who drives us shall 
 not know that you are with me, and we will 
 leave our vehicle before we arrive at the next 
 village ; so that there will be no clue whatsoever 
 to our retreat. Let me manage every thing, and 
 it shall be well done, I promise you. Where are 
 you going?" 
 
 " I am going to Scotland," answered Zo- 
 rilda. " I leave all to your sagacity. Take me 
 to my dear Mrs. Gordon in Aberdeenshire, and 
 I ask no more. I will consult the map, and 
 tell you the route by which we are to travel. 
 Let your care only be to guard against disco- 
 very and pursuit." 
 
 " Mrs. Hartland will not give herself any 
 trouble about you, but will be very glad to hear 
 that you are out of her way ; and as to the gen- 
 tlemen, who might not indeed take the matter 
 so easily, they will not be here till we are 
 many a mile away from Henbury," answered 
 Rachel. " I am now going to send t>n° my 
 trunks, with a line, to my brother, to let him 
 know that I must go directly after one who owes
 
 280 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 me some money. He is aware that I am 
 frightened about this debt, and will have his 
 cart ready for me at the orchard-gate, where I 
 have appointed it to attend me, a quarter of a 
 mile beyond his own house at five o'clock to- 
 morrow morning. I am come now to take the 
 last of your things : every article except these 
 books is put up." 
 
 " I will leave these books behind," said Zo- 
 rilda, bursting into tears ; " and this packet — 
 this precious packet, shall never be separated 
 from me for an instant. I will take charge of 
 it myself." 
 
 Rachel hastened to finish her preparations, 
 and Zorilda, once more left alone, gathered to- 
 gether a few volumes and some trifling orna- 
 ments, which had been given her from time to 
 time by Algernon, and after gazing upon, and 
 kissing fondly each memorial of early affection, 
 which brought distant circumstances and tender 
 recollections to her mind, she sealed up a parcel, 
 containing all the little gifts which she had ever 
 received, and felt as if she had now closed the 
 grave over the last dear remains of blighted
 
 WHO IS SHE? 281 
 
 love and murdered hope. Her next act was to 
 write the following note, addressed to Mrs. 
 Hartland : 
 
 "There was a time when Zorilda believed 
 herself an object of affectionate interest in the 
 breast of that kind benefactress who first offered 
 an asylum to the destitute being, now going to 
 requite a deed of charity by one of gratitude. 
 That time, alas ! is past, and with it all Zo- 
 rilda's earthly happiness. Circumstances have 
 occurred which render decision necessary, and 
 these few lines are only left to say, that they are 
 accompanied by a parcel, and the most earnest 
 prayers for every good, from the heart of her 
 who now leaves Henbury for ever, and bids 
 Lady Marchdale a last adieu." 
 
 All being now ready, Zorilda lay down to 
 rest, but not to sleep. " Fast coming thoughts" 
 troubled repose, and busy memory would not 
 be still. Weary of her uneasy couch, she rose 
 before day, and lo ed from her window by the 
 clear starlight, on that scene to which in a 
 little hour she was to bid an eternal farewell. 
 
 " Beloved spot ! I leave you, and for ever —
 
 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 yes, for ever ! Nor time nor change can alter 
 my resolves. Algernon is dead to me, and my 
 heart shall prove a faithful widow to its first, its 
 only love. These stars shall witness my vows ; 
 these shrubs and flowers form the altar on which 
 they are dedicated." 
 
 As Zorilda meditated on the landscape, the 
 eastern clouds began to glow, and the birds 
 awaked to the first beam of morning. Rachel's 
 approach interrupted the mournful soliloquy of 
 her young mistress, w r ho was soon dressed, and, 
 wrapping Rachel's large cloak around her, diey 
 both quitted the apartment, and with light step 
 passed down stairs, through hall and passages 
 unseen, and gained the pleasure-grounds with- 
 out any obstacle to their progress. Zorilda 
 made a sudden stop as she reached the arbour, 
 which she had wreathed with fragrant climbers 
 to meet Algernon's return. The sweet breath 
 of new-born day wafted the perfume towards 
 her, and she clasped her hands in anguish. 
 Rachel's presence repressed utterance ; but here 
 was the bower, she thought, in which her de- 
 lighted ear should listen to the tales of foreign
 
 WHO IS SHE? 283 
 
 travel, and hear once more the accents of un- 
 changing affection. 
 
 " Come, my dear," said Rachel, taking Zo- 
 rilda by the arm, and gently urging her forward, 
 " you must not make yourself melancholy by 
 lingering here. If we are to go, we should not 
 stand shilly shally. Remember that you wish 
 to avoid discovery, and the only way to secure 
 privacy is to use despatch." 
 
 Zorilda suffered herself to be driven on, and 
 was presently in the open fields, not daring to 
 look round upon the home of her happy child- 
 hood. 
 
 As they advanced towards the orchard, near 
 which they were to be met by Farmer Wilson's 
 cart, Rachel spied this rude equipage at a dis- 
 tance, and concealing Zorilda behind some 
 bushes, while she spoke to the driver, and saw 
 that her luggage was safely stowed within, she 
 beckoned our trembling heroine, and having 
 contrived to place her in the vehicle, stepped 
 in herself, and ordered the lad to proceed in 
 the direction which she described to him. Zo- 
 rilda observed a mournful silence, which her com-
 
 281 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 panion, though not given to taciturnity, had no 
 inclination to disturb, her own mind being so 
 intent on the practical concern of executing 
 her present task with ability, that she was not 
 sorry for the leisure to ponder her schemes, 
 which Zorilda's deep depression of spirits af- 
 forded her. 
 
 At the distance of nearly ten miles from 
 Henbury, our travellers approached the car- 
 rier's station, at which it was Rachel's design to 
 stop, but to avoid being seen in company with 
 her young mistress, she had the address to de- 
 sire her charioteer to alight, and make inquiry 
 in a cottage by the way-side, whether Mrs. 
 Nixon, an imaginary friend of hers was to be 
 found in the neighbourhood. While Tom made 
 this inquiry, Rachel watched her opportunity, 
 and opening the door at the back of the cart, 
 made Zorilda descend, and walk forward to- 
 wards the public-house, which was near at hand. 
 
 This was so dexterously managed, that when 
 the carter returned with his answer, that no 
 such person as Mr. Nixon was known, Rachel 
 sat in solitary possession of the lowly convey-
 
 "WHO IS SHE 
 
 285 
 
 ance which all along the road had been shared 
 by another. 
 
 Arrived at the end of her appointed stage, 
 she had the good luck to find a caravan just 
 ready to start from the door. Zorilda had di- 
 rections from her duenna to sit by the road 
 side, under a spreading tree, till this new vehicle 
 was in motion, while Rachel bustled about, ap- 
 peared busy in recognising her acquaintances at 
 the inn, and was attended to her carriage by the 
 landlord and his wife, who wished her a pleasant 
 journey, as she drove away from the porch at 
 which they performed the parting honours. 
 
 Bidding adieu to the group who always as- 
 semble on such occasions to witness a departure, 
 Rachel set off, and a sudden turn in the road, 
 bore the caravan, though not moving at a very 
 brisk rate, out of sight in a moment. 
 
 Zorilda was seated under the appointed tree, 
 at a little distance, but so completely absorbed 
 in her own thoughts, that she would have suf- 
 fered the machine to pass unnoticed, if Rachel 
 had not vociferated, i Driver, driver ; don't you
 
 286 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 hear that gentlewoman calling to you; wont 
 you stop for a passenger ? ' 
 
 The caravan stood still ; Zorilda was roused 
 from her melancholy reverie, and appearing 
 with her little basket on her arm, Rachel shuf- 
 fled from side to side with officious civility, as- 
 suring the stranger that there was " plenty of 
 room," and so there was, for though like a snow- 
 ball, they were destined to gather as they rolled, 
 there were but two other persons already occu- 
 pying seats, and these were a brace of sturdy 
 farmers, who were so intent on comparing sam- 
 ples of corn, which each drew from his pocket, 
 that Rachel had full opportunity to inform her 
 fellow traveller, whose courage seemed to flag, 
 that all farther devices to cover her flight would 
 be unnecessary in a few hours. 
 
 " If they come in search of us, it will be first 
 to my brother's ; then to the inn which we have 
 just quitted, and where, likewise, they will be 
 foiled. After this stage, we may take our ease, 
 and travel in a proper manner, like Christians. 
 A little caution for one or two stages more, and 
 we shall then be at liberty."
 
 WHO IS SHE? 287 
 
 Zorilda sighed assent, and we will leave her 
 and her attendant to their repose in a quiet 
 country inn, while we return to Henbury. 
 
 Some hours elapsed before it was perceived 
 that the fugitives were actually missing. Mrs. 
 Hartland, or, as we must not forget hencefor- 
 ward to entitle her, Lady Marchdale, heard the 
 intelligence with perfect sang froid, only re- 
 marking that it was very extraordinary that her 
 orders should be disobeyed, and desiring that on 
 Zorilda's return to her chamber, she should be 
 informed of the circumstance. The servants 
 had no more suspicion than their Lady of a lon- 
 ger absence than till evening, and fully believed 
 that Rachel, fearful lest want of customary ex- 
 ercise might injure " Miss Zoe's health," had 
 prevailed on her to make a short excursion for 
 change of air. 
 
 Evening came on, however, and no sign of 
 return. The parcel, with Zorilda's note, which 
 had escaped observation, was now brought to 
 Lady Marchdale, who was much surprised, but 
 though she summoned all the household, she 
 could learn no tidings whatsoever of the tra-
 
 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 vellers. Curiosity was in fact the only motive 
 for her inquiries, as the event of Zorilda ; s vo- 
 luntary flight gave her inexpressible delight. 
 All care and responsibility were now at an end. 
 She had taken her affairs into her own hands, 
 and Lady Marchdale not only felt relieved from 
 all anxiety how to dispose of her, but might 
 expatiate on the various surmises which she 
 chose to indulge, so unfavourable to female mo- 
 desty, youthful timidity, natural affection, gra- 
 titude, and the like, as to strengthen her ar- 
 guments upon the impropriety of Lord Hau- 
 tonville's wasting another thought upon such a 
 graceless adventurer. " And Rachel too ; no 
 doubt she is in the secret. A pretty piece of 
 work, truly, but they are gone upon their own 
 inventions, which I am afraid are not of the best, 
 and so I can do no more than leave them to 
 their fate." 
 
 The old butler, to whom these words were 
 principally addressed, shook his head, and re- 
 plied : " My lady, I could bear any thing but 
 to hear Miss Zoe suspected of evil doings. She 
 is an angel on earth, wherever she is gone, and
 
 WHO IS SHE? 
 
 if all the world were as good as she, there would 
 be no need of any other heaven." 
 
 " Shut the door," answered Lady Marchdale' 
 " I did not ask your opinion." 
 
 Bernard retired, and all the servants mingled 
 tears and wailing for the loss of their favourite, 
 while every effort to trace Zorilda was fruitless. 
 The dairy-maid, who was very superstitious, al- 
 most persuaded the rest at length, that the 
 fairies who she knew to a certainty were often 
 busy in conveying cows secretly from their pas- 
 tures, had some hand in the elopement of Miss 
 Zoe. " Any way, she is gone upon nothing 
 harmful," was the unanimous decision below 
 stairs. As to Rachel, every body knew that 
 she was to leave the service, and no one was 
 puzzled at her disappearance. 
 
 Several days were spent in discussions and 
 controversy before the earl and his son returned 
 to Henbury. Lord Hautonville had scarcely 
 seen his mother before he flew off to Zorilda's 
 apartment. The door was open. He went in, 
 and called. From thence he ran down stairs, 
 
 vol. i. o
 
 290 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 and out into the shrubberies, not waiting to ask 
 a question of any one; but seeking her through 
 all the places which were familiar to remem- 
 brance, and not a little indignant at her absence 
 in the moment of his arrival. 
 
 The gardener at last appeared, and stunned 
 him by the intelligence that Zorilda had been 
 missing for several days. 
 
 " Missing ! gone ! — Where — when — how — 
 with whom ? Did she receive any letters ? Did 
 any gentleman visit here ? Tell me every thing 
 this moment. Order fresh horses directly. I 
 will largely reward whoever brings me intelli- 
 gence of their route, and be the death of any 
 man who conceals information. Be quick; — 
 fly ! — but tell me before you go all about her 
 departure." 
 
 Such were the incoherencies which burst al] 
 in a breath from Lord Hautonville, who seemed 
 so completely bereft of his senses as scarcely to 
 possess the faculty of listening ; while Bernard, to 
 to whom they were addressed, endeavoured to 
 reply. 
 
 " My lord, nobody here can throw any light
 
 WHO IS SHE? 291 
 
 upon the matter. Miss Zoe did receive a packet, 
 but we heard that it came from Mr. Play fair. " 
 
 " Accursed treachery; foul contrivance all. 
 I know who sent the letter. How did it come ; 
 by post or messenger? Who brought it here, 
 and when did she receive it ? " 
 
 M Two days before her departure, my lord, " 
 answered Bernard ; "a sallow-looking man, 
 well mounted, a stranger here, rode to the 
 lodge in the dusk of the evening, and inquired 
 for Rachel, who went to know his commands, 
 and thought it some message from Marchdale- 
 court. When she returned to the house we 
 inquired what she had seen or heard ; but she 
 put us off with saying that it was only a friend 
 of Mr. Playfair's who desired him to call as he 
 passed, and ask after the family. This seemed 
 plausible enough, but since all this stir, and 
 questioning, it has come out that little Ben Tyr- 
 rel, who held the gate while the gentleman 
 stopped at it, saw him give Rachel a large 
 packet." 
 
 " Death and fury ! I see the whole train. I 
 know it all. The messenger was a dark devil of 
 o 2
 
 292 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 an Italian. His own man, whose heart's blood 
 shall answer for this. Call Rachel; let me 
 see her instantly. But stay — not so fast. How 
 did she receive it? Did she appear agitated, or 
 seemed pleased ? What did she do ? How did 
 she look ? " 
 
 " We do not know, my Lord, for my Lady had 
 ordered Miss Zoe not to quit her apartment for 
 many days. It seems they had some words in 
 my Lady's dressing-room, and Rachel was the 
 only one who took any refreshment to our dear 
 and good young lady ; and every time that she 
 came from her room, she used to be in tears 
 herself, and said that it would melt a heart of 
 stone to see how Miss Zoe would walk all day 
 backwards and forwards, with her hands clasped, 
 and her eyes streaming. It was a pitiful sight. 
 Well, when she went, it was so softly and so se- 
 cretly, that no mortal man or woman about the 
 place, saw her go out. The very dogs never 
 barked, and that is no wonder, for they were so 
 fond of her, that they would follow her to Ja- 
 maica, if she was going there." 
 
 " Curse your folly ! " exclaimed Lord Hau-
 
 WHO IS SHE? 293 
 
 tonville. " Never mind the dogs. Was it a 
 chaise and four ? Where did it meet her ? " 
 
 " My Lord, sure I am telling your Lordship 
 as plain as I can speak, that there was no sign 
 of man, or horse, or carriage, or any thing else, 
 even to the value of a wheel-barrow, to leave 
 track or trace in the finest gravel round all 
 Henbury. There wasn't a sign even of her 
 light footsteps, so much as would crush down a 
 daisy's head, across the fields, to tell us which 
 way she went ; and, as the ignorant people say, 
 it was as much like Fairies' work as any thing 
 that ever came to pass. The only one thing 
 that with all our spelling and putting together, 
 we could remark was, that latterly she grew 
 timoursome about taking long walks, as she used 
 to do ; and Matthew the gardener observed one 
 day that she came hastily into the shrubbery gate, 
 looking pale, as if she was frightened ; but that 
 was long ago before your lordship returned, 
 and we concluded that the cattle might have 
 startled her, though she said nothing, only did 
 not go out of the grounds again." 
 
 " Call Rachel, call Rachel. Bring Ben Tyr-
 
 294 TALES OF -MY TIME. 
 
 rell. Where is my mother ? I will question 
 every one ; make haste." 
 
 " My Lord, Rachel is no longer here; she 
 quitted the service on the very day that Miss 
 Zoe left the house, and went to farmer Wil- 
 son's, her brother; and here is my Lady herself 
 coming to look for you." 
 
 Lady Marchdale entered the room with a 
 reproachful air, and upbraided her son with his 
 want of affection. " I have," said she, " been 
 calling you every where. Is this the way in 
 which you meet me after such an absence ? " 
 
 " What have you done with Zorilda?" an- 
 swered Lord Hautonville, with a savage coun- 
 tenance, as he looked sternly at his mother. 
 
 " I know nothing of the ungrateful girl," 
 replied Lady Marchdale; " she has taken her- 
 self out of my protection, and proved herself 
 unworthy of my regard." 
 
 " Madam," answered her son, " we part this 
 moment, and for ever, if you conceal a single 
 tittle of all you know. Why did you imprison 
 her ? Where is she gone ? She is mine, and I 
 will follow her. Nothing shall prevail upon me
 
 WHO IS SHE? 295 
 
 to give her up ; and you will not accomplish any 
 end by keeping me in the dark. Tell me all, I 
 beg; I demand that you do not deceive me. 
 The most fatal consequences may result from 
 this affair ; consequences which you little anti- 
 cipate." 
 
 Terrified out of her senses, Lady March dale 
 now began to repent the cruel part which she 
 had acted; and told her son, without reserve, 
 all that she had to tell. Her proposal to Zo- 
 rilda to reject his suit, and bind herself by a 
 written promise never to ally herself with the 
 family of Hartland ; Zorilda's refusal — her sub- 
 sequent imprisonment — farewell note, and mys- 
 terious departure, were all detailed with an effort 
 at amplification, which seemed as if designed to 
 bury the recollection of past unkindness and 
 neglect towards an amiable orphan, in the im- 
 portance and display of the present statement. 
 
 Algernon's impetuous temper broke out into 
 unmeasured reproaches against his mother, 
 whom he charged, without any regard to de- 
 cency, with selfishness, pride, and barbarity. In 
 the expression, " Circumstances have occurred,"
 
 296 TALES OF MY TIME. 
 
 contained in Zorilda's note, he found ample 
 confirmation of his suspicions, which were no 
 other than that the Marquess of Turnstock, 
 having first unsuccessfully urged his suit, and 
 terrified her by an unexpected appearance at 
 Henbury, had afterwards adopted the artifice of 
 assuming the name of Mr. Playfair, to practise 
 on her credulity, and decoy her from her friends. 
 Rushing like a lunatic from the house, Lord 
 Hautonville's first essay was at farmer Wilson's. 
 There he summoned the boy who had driven 
 Rachel to the carrier's inn, but could learn no 
 more than that he had performed his mission ; 
 that the good woman travelled alone, and was 
 safely lodged at her destination. His next re- 
 solve was to mount a horse, and go off to this 
 place, where he obtained no farther satisfaction. 
 Rachel was gone; and the people of the inn 
 were not sure, but thought they could recollect 
 that she spoke of being on her way to London, 
 seeking after a bad debt. Here the clue was 
 lost. To look for Rachel in the metropolis 
 would have been like searching for a grain of 
 mustard seed in the sands of the sea.
 
 297 
 
 In vain Lord Marchdale represented to his 
 son the folly of his conduct, and the necessity of 
 remaining at home to meet several persons who 
 were appointed to assemble at Henbury on legal 
 business. It was in vain that Lady Marchdale 
 alternately stormed and beseeched. Arguments, 
 threats, and caresses were alike ineffectual. 
 Post horses were ordered; and before the morn- 
 ing's dawn, on the following day, Lord Hau- 
 tonville and his valet were on the high road to 
 London. But we return, to attend on the steps 
 of our female travellers. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 J. B. Nichols and Son, 25, Parliament-street.
 
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