r7/t LI B RAR.Y OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS 823 P2a3^ V.I ^ THE GUERRILLA CHIEF. VOL. I. Digitized by tine Internet Arcinive in 2009 witin funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/guerrillachiefno01park THE GUERRILLA CHIEF A NOVEL. IN THREE VOLUMES. BY EMMA PARKER, AUTHOR OF Elfrida, Heiress of Bel grove •"—'' Virginia, or the Peace of Amiens ;''— and *' Arestas," seek thy strand. Romantic Spain! ^Tis but lo while away The lingering hours in Fanc^^'s fairy land, And frame wild fictions of thy latter day. M. n. MITFORDj VOL. I. aonrron : PRINTED FOR WILLIAM LINDSELL, WIMPOI.E STREET J BY J. F. DOVE, ST. JOHN'S SQUARE. 1815. CO «.T) 1 ^^3 THE GUERFvILlLA CHIEF. CHAPTER I. Bleeds not thy heart to see yon noble band, The flower of England's youth, regain her land ; Despoil'd of beauty, vigour— all but fame? All else now bartered for the hero's name ! Pallid and agoniz'd, they now appear The mutilated ghosts of what they were. E. P. ' OTRANGE ! that the mere repetition of what at first appeared so agreeable should be sufficient to deprive it of the power to charm ! Surely monoto- ny and pleasure are irreconcileable !" Mrs. Valency's barouche had thrice VOL. I. B ( 2 ) traversed the Weymouth sands, and her daughters were complaining of the insipidity of daily resorting to the same place, when she replied to them by the above observation.^ — " But," continued she, " you must now ac- knowledge, that this scene is not de- void of variety ; for, look ! there is a boat full of soldiers : it has just put off from the frigate, and I could fan- cy they were some unfortunate wound- ed heroes, just arrived from Portu- gal ; one of them seems to be reclining in the arms of another, and I think there is a person lying at the bottom of the boat." This suggestion had the instanta- neous effect of interesting the young- ladies, and consequently of giving ani- mation to the objects around them. Their eyes became riveted on the boat ; while Mrs. Valency, with the prompt- ness characteristic of an eager dispo- sition, directed her coachman to drive ( 3 ) swiftly towards the spot, where she concluded the men would land : nor was she mistaken. " The crooked keel soon cut the yellow sand ;" and the lady standing' up in the carriage, which had now stopped at the mar- gin of the water, bent anxiouly for- ward, with a look of blended curiosi- ty and compassion. Her daughters be- gan to feel confused ; and Honoria, the youngest, observed, that, sliould there be officers among the group, their com- ments might be excited on perceiving a carriage full of ladies, hastening, as it were, to meet them : her sister added, with an uneasy aspect, " Pray let us move off, mamma !' "My dear girls, don't distress your- selves," returned their mother ; — " these poor men are half dead, and too much engrossed with their own sufferings to bestow a thought upon us." There was some justice in this re- B 2 ( 4 ) ttiark, as well as in the conclusion which led Mrs. Valency to imagine, that the boat was occupied by disabled soldiers — for such they proved to be ; and all were too much engaged in endeavouring to exert themselves, or afford assistance to others, to permit them even to cast a glance towards the barouche. Such objects could not fail to excite the deepest commisse- ration in the breasts of the ladies, who beheld, with painful interest, men, who had sacrificed so much in the (service of their country. Health, beau- ty, and activity were lost ! Maimed and disfigured, scarcely could the un- fortunate (deprived of an arm, his head tied up, and the pallid hue of disease apparent on his hollow cheeks) extend his only remaining hand to lend a feeble assistance to his helpless comrade — not yet supplied with crutches, to aid him under the loss of his leg, of which the recent depri- ( 5 ) vation leaves him dependant as an infant. There, the sturdy sailor sup- ports a sufferer, whose swimming iiead will not permit him to sustain himself; then follows a train of limp- ing, ghastly looking figures, in whom every step seems to excite a spasm. Still there remains one at tiie bottom of the boat, stretched on a mattress, with his face concealed ; one, who appears too near the brink of eternity to retain the slightest consciousness of the passing scene. As he could only be removed by the assistance of as many men as were requisite to transport him, the sailors agreed, (to use their own phrase) that, having once got rid of those they had in tow, they would return for the rest of the cargo. Mrs. Valency's feelings had been fermenting all this time, in proportion as new objects appeared to excite them, and they had now gained an B 3 ( 6 ) ascendancy that rendered them no longer controulable ; and, calling ve- hemently to her footman to let down the step of the carriage, she descended with precipitation, bidding her daugh- ters follow : when she desired that the prostrate sufferer might be trans- ported in the vehicle ; and resigned it, inside and out, to as many of the disabled as could conveniently be placed about it. *' Now," said she to her coachman, " lead the horses gently on to where- ever these poor men are to be convey- ed, and avoid the stones and rough places as much as possible." It appeared that the soldiers were going to the hospital ; but one of the sailors said, he supposed //e who was the worsts (as he termed the person on the mattress) must be taken to an hotel. ** To an hoteir repeated Mrs. Va- lency, '* that poor dying man to an ( 7 ) hotel ! to be distracted with noise, and hurried out of the world for want of attention ; how very shocking." '* I don't suppose, my lady, he would like to die in a common hos- pital," observed the same sailor. Mrs. Valency considered — then turning quickly to one of her daughters, said, " My dear, there is a lodging near our house, they are very civil people, and as we deal at the shop, per- haps -Here, Robert," she con- tinued to her footman, " run as fast as you can, and see if the milliner near our house will accomodate this poor man ; tell her she will be con- ferring a particular obligation upon me." Robert was quickly out of sight, the carriage slowly followed the di- rection he had taken, and Mrs. Va- lency and her daughters hastened forward, having told the sailors to attend till they had deposited their B 4 ( 8 ) charge. ** Aye, my lady," returned one of them, ** we'll heave the Major out whenever you chooses." The ladies all agreed that they had never seen the barouche applied to so good a purpose before, and walked home with alacrity, rejoicing in the idea that they had saved the gallant invalid some few^ pangs of augmented misery. They had the satisfaction of finding the milliner ready to accede to their wishes in favour of the suf- fering stranger ; and, being of a hu- mane disposition, she was eager to pay him every attention his precari- ous state required. No time was lost in procuring medical advice, and the solicitous care he had long been in want of was now most amply sup- plied. ( 9 ) CHAPTER II. On his bold visage, middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage ; Yet had not quench'd the open truth. And fiery vehemence of youth. LADY OF THE LAKE. J\j_Rs. Valency was the widow of a general officer, her income did hot exceed seven hundred a year, inde- pendent of her pension ; but, by liv- ing economically in the retirement of the country for ten months out of the twelve, she could afford to spend the remaining two in a style of fashionable elegance, any where she chose ; and every summer, with her two only chil- dren, she either made a tour, or repair* B 5 ( 10 ) ed to some watering place. Her car- riage she always retained, and had job horses for the time she was from home; but they no sooner returned to their cottage, than they resumed their cus- tomary frugal, though genteel manner of living. Regret for leaving gayer scenes had never yet intruded to blight their domestic comforts; for, educated on the best principles of mental culti- vation, they could command innumer- able resources ; and having had much leisure for reflection, they beheld things in a rational point of view^ and had long since discovered the real source of genuine and permanent en- joyment. Yet with the feelings inci- dent to youth, they delighted in the anticipation of their summer excur- sion, more from a natural propensity to take pleasure in expectation, than from any satiety of their customary employments ; and to prevent their ever becoming wearisome, as well as ( 11 ) from a desire now and then to take a peep at the world, and mix in new scenes, in order the better to relish old ones, Mrs. Valency persevered in this plan. What we have said above may equally apply to the general dispo- sition of both parent and children ; the peculiarities of their individual characters we shall leave to develop themselves, as a more just opinion may be formed of them by their ac- tions and conduct, than from any description that could be given. In regard to their persons, Mrs. Valency was still handsome, active, and vigor- ous — her daughters were both lovely in face and figure ; the eldest about three and twenty, Honoria two years younger. Their cottage home was situated near a village on the coast of Devon- shire, scarce a quarter of a mile from the shore. It was a modern cottage ; ( 12 ) that is, its outward appearance alone gave it a title to that appellation, as the interior presented all the comforts and conveniences of a roomy house ; the apartments being quite large enough to prevent the danger of suf- focation, even when all the doors and windows were shut. A lawn, shrub- bery, gardens, &c. comprised every thing a reasonable creature could de- sire. Mrs. Valency had an uncle, who spent much of his time with her : he was a superanuated admiral, and had no other ties than those which allied him to her family. He always made a point of accompanying her when she repaired to a watering place, and was that year of the party to Wey- mouth : they occupied the same house. The next to it was inhabited by a Mrs. Irby, her daughter, and her two sons, who were also neighbours of Mrs. Valency iu Devonshire, and on ( 13 ) intimate terms with her. The lady was amusing the Admiral with an ac- count of their morning- adventure, when she was interrupted by the en- trance of William, the youngest son of Mrs. Irby, a young man about one and twenty, who was intended for the church. *' Go on, go on, Mrs. Valency, I beg," he exclaimed — " I am all anx- iety to hear a particular relation of this extrordianary affair ; it is the most unprecedented thing I ever heard of.'* " What do you mean ?" asked Mrs. Valency with an air of surprise. *< Why, about your barouche being seized in that unjustifiable manner, to accommodate the sick soldiers, and your being compelled to walk home." " What are you dreaming of boy !" said the Admiral ;^ — " your imagina- tion has been at work as usual, I sup- pose." *' No, indeed, sir ! but my mother s ( 14 ) has I fancy ; for she told me, that she saw Mrs. Valency's carriage stop at the house opposite, as she was stand- ing at the window ; that it was loaded with invalid soldiers, and that she soon after perceived the ladies walk- ing home. She further told me, that you had been airing on the sands, madam," he continued to Mrs. Valen- cy, *' when these men were put on shore ; and that your carriage, being nearest at the moment, it had been seized by order of the magistrates, to transport the wounded men. fVho w as her informer, she did not tell me; but here she comes to answer for her- self." The party Avas now augmented by the arrival of Mrs. Irby and her daughter : the two Mrs. Valen- cy's entered the room at the same time. " Pray, madam," said William to his mother, the moment she appeared. ( 15 ) *' what was it you was telling me about this lady's barouche ?" Mrs. Irby, disregarding his ques- tion, turned to Mrs. Valency, saying, " 1 am come to hear all about your adventure this morning: do tell us the particulars." " Why, according to your son's ac- count, you are perfectly acquainted with them already," returned Mrs. Valency, laughing. William looked a little angry, and said, somewhat impatiently to his mother, " Did not you tell me, madam, that the carriage had been seized by order of the magistrates ?" *' No, my dear ; I only said; I sup- posed it might be the case, as I have often heard of waggons being pressed for the accommodation of soldiers, when they were on forced marches, or any thing of that kind ; and I could not account for seeing Mrs. Valency's carriage so strangly occupied, and ( 16 ) herself walking another way ; but I did not say it really ivas so, my dear." " I am sure I understood you so," said William, sullenly. Mrs. Valency now simply recount- ed the circumstances of the case; when Mrs. Irby inquired, if she knew any thing more of the stran- ger, to whom she had proved so good a friend ?" *' No," returned Mrs. Valency;— *^ but 1 believe one of the sailors called him Captain." *' Major, mamma," cried one of her daughters. " O, Major, was it? Very likely — 1 really do not recollect." " Yes—Major r said Mrs. Irby ; " and I can tell you something more about him." *^ Indeed! " ** Is he handsome ?" interrupted her daughter, addressing Miss Valency, who replied, ( 17 ) " I cannot possibly tell ; for, in the iirst place, his face M'as concealed ; and, in the next, had he once been beautiful as Adonis, it is not likely he should retain any resemblance to him in his present wretched state." *' O, but I assure you he is very good-looking," cried Mrs. Irby, " at least Doctor B , who came to pay me a friendly visit, as he left him, said he had very good features, only of course lie looks very sallow. But he has not been wounded ; only exces^ sive fatigue brought on a raging fever, which has lasted three months." ** A raging fever last three months !'' drily observed William. '* It has reduced him to death's door," continued Mrs. Irby ; ** his name, I understand, is Brompton." ** Not a very pretty one," said Miss Irby. " But a very genteel one, Eliza : as a proof of it, he is the younger sou ( 18 ) of a noble family ; lie has several brothers and sisters, so his income must be very limited. Doctor B is going to write to his friends, to in- form them of his situation, and no doubt some of them will come down here, and tlien we shall see what sort of people they are." " Where is your eldest son, to- day?" asked Mrs. Valency, tired of the subject of the invalid. '' He left us sooq after breakfast," returned Mrs. Irby, saying he had an appointment with Sir Francis Heath- cote's groom ; I believe he is going to get some lessons of driving. Have you seen Sir Francis this morning?" " No." '' I wonder at that," said Mrs. Ir- by, casting a sly glance at Miss Va- lency, to whom Sir Francis had for some time been paying his serious addresses. ** He will be here by and bye, I'll ( 19 ) answer for it," said the Admiral, with- out raising' his eyes from a newspaper he had taken up on Mrs. Irby's en- trance. — At that moment Sir Francis appeared, when Mrs. Irby and her daughter took their leave ; William still remained. Sir Francis entered with the ani- mated air of a happy lover. His figure was commanding, his counte- nance insinuating, and his whole ap- pearance that of an elegant man of fashion. He had passed his thirtieth year, but his powers of pleasing were in theii* zenith ; long had he beheld Miss Valency with eyes of admiration, and had contrived to throw himself in her way several succeeding sum- mers, and evinced every inclination to attach himself to her ; but she, ap- prehending that he might only be seeking temporary amusement, had rather shunned him, till on his meet- ing her at Weymouth, he had openly ( 20 ) declared himself to her uncle. He was now received at the house on the footing of her intended husband, while preparations were making for their nuptials, which were to take place on their return home. Sir Francis expressed a lively in- terest for the invalid, and said he should pay his respects to him as soon as the physician would permit him to see strangers. William Trby observed, " I dare say this Major is not so ill as he fancies himself!" *' Why do you tbink so?" asked Sir Francis. " Why, because he has been itioped up on board ship with nothing to think of but his ailments, and nothing to tempt him to exert himself." *' Well, but in the act of land- ing," said Miss Valency, " there was a sufficient stimulus to excite exertion, had he been capable of it; and it was evident he was un- ( 21 ) able to assist himself in the slightest degree." *' You don't know that: had he been left in the boat, and every one gone away from him, I dare say he would have contrived to have crawled out in time, though he probably con- ceived it impossible at the moment." *' How strangely you talk," said Honoria, ** sui'ely you would not compel a suffering creature, in almost the last stage of debility, to— — " " O, no no," interrupted William, *' I don't mean that, only I think peo- ple generally fancy themselves much worse than they really are. I always recollect the story of the old woman who had been bed-ridden for ten years, but when the house was on lire was the first to run away ; and, having found her legs, walked very well ever after." *' That old woman seems to be the standard of all your compari- ( 22 ) sons," said Sir Francis, laughing. " The other day when I sprained my ancle, nothing could persuade you that I could not walk on it if I cJiose ; yet when you complained of the tooth ache, and I advised you to bite on it as hard as you could, you called me barbarous!" " O don't talk of it," cried Wil- liam, " the very idea sets all my teeth jarring." " No wonder," said Honoria, " when fancy carries you so far, that you should impute so much to its operations." " Why, that is exactly the case. I find imagination so continually at work to deceive rae, that I am always suspecting others to be equally under its dominion. Now, for example, my mother as much believed what she told me about your barouche, as if she had actually heard it asserted as a fact ; and this merely from the force ( 23 ) of her own conclusions on the sub- ject. So it is in respect to many si- milar mistakes which she falls into. She would no more tell a falsehood than she would rob you of your purse ; yet she is continually repre- senting things in an erroneous light, either from not perfectly comprehend- ing what is related to her, or from the strength of her OAvn suggestions, which give their own colouring to every thing that she relates.' Sir Francis smiled at the accurate delineation of a character he knew to be just ; the ladies thought it would have been better any body else had drawn it,' but William still harboured some slight degree of re- sentment against his mother for hav- ing made his assertions appear doubt- ful, and could not refrain from touch- ing on her ruling foible in order to clear his ow n veracity. ( 24 ) CHAPTER III, And yon thin form ! the hectic red On his pale cheek unequal spread ; The head reclin'd, the loosen d hair, The limbs relax'd, the mournful air/ ROKEBY, _l HE invalid rapidly recovered from the extremity he had been reduced to, but continued still in a precarious state, owing to excessive debility. Sir Francis delayed not to execute his design of calling on him, and was much surprised to recognize in him an old acquaintance ; nor was the party at Mrs. Valency's less astonish- ed on learning from the Baronet the following particulars relative to his visit. ( 25 ) *' You may conceive my amaze- ment," he continued, '* on finding my- self in the presence of my old friend, Major Burlington, who was reclining onasopha; and, tliOugh certainly but the shadow of his former self, I knew him immediately." " Burlington !" repeated Miss Va- lency, " I thought Mrs. Irby said his name was Brompton." " So she did." rejoined Sir Francis, '' and her intelligence on that head was about as accurate as the other parti- culars she informed us of relating to the Major, whom I have known from a boy. In the first place, so far from being one of a numerous family, he has neither father, mother, nor sisters^ one only brother is the sole surviving relative I ever heard him mention. To this brother he is enthusiastically attached ; there is little more than a year between them ; the Major is the youngest, and he must now — let me VOL. I. c ( 26 ) see — he must now, be about five or six and twenty. He was so afraid of distressing this brother, that he would not permit Doctor B to write to inform him of his situation, though you know Mrs. Irby affirmed the con- trary ; and this three months^ fever, which she asserted had reduced him to his present state, andno^ a wound, is also the ofispring of her imagination. His left arm is now useless, owing to a musket ball having lodged in it ; and the blood he lost on that occa- sion, together with several other incon- siderable wounds, occasions his pre- sent weakness." " Poor Mrs. Irby ! she is certainly very unfortunate," said Mrs Valency smiling, " for she never can obtain a correct account of any transaction, let it be ever so trifliing : it must certainly be some defect in her com- prehension, for she is otherwise re- ally a very good sort of woman." ( 27 ) All cast an approving glance oil Mrs. Valency, for they knew the amiable motive that always prompted her to find an excuse for those who appeared censurable ; for however lit- tle we may be inclined to follow «uch an example, we cannot forbear admiring it. *' Well," said Honoria, *' I am afraid you have proved poor Mrs. Irby's fallibility in every point but one : pray has this gentleman any claim to the comeliness of features she as- cribed to him?" " I can only say," returned Sir Francis, *' I never remember his ha- ving any pretensions to good looks, and now I think he is absolutely plain ; his brother is reckoned hand- some, but I can't say I ever thought him so. However, respecting the Major, you may judge for yourselves in the course of a few days ; as he in- tends crawling over, as soon as he can c 2 ( 28 ) move out, to thank you for your at- tention to him." Another week elapsed, when Major Burlington fulfilled his intention of expressing his gratitude to Mrs. Va- lency, for her extreme kindness ; for she had been unremitting in sending him every little delicacy she conceiv- ed essential to an invalid ; and this she had done from the natural good- ness of her heart: to a common soldier, in the same situation, she would have been equally benevolent. Miss Valency was alone when the Major was announced. She surveyed him with some degree of surprise ; for, from what Sir Francis had said, she expected to have seen a very different sort of person. Major Burlington was rather above the middle height, his figure well-pro- portioned, his features finely turned, and the whole expression of his coun- tenance not less interesting for its pallid hue, than for its mild, genteel, ( 29 ) prepossessing aspect. The pleasing modulation of his voice exactly har- monized with the gentle elegance of his movements, and the pensive lustre of an eye '* That wept the tale of woe. Yet could with sudden rapture glow ; That timid feared to give offence. Yet beamed with bright intelligence."' '&'^ His arm still continued in a sling*, and he required the assistance of a stick to aid his steps. He seated him- self with a sigh of weariness, and seemed to want breath to express his acknowledgments for th^ friendliness that had been shewn him, yet evinced his deep sense of it with much emo- tion. In a few minutes he recovered himself sufficiently to converse ; and, on his making some allusion to his brother, Miss Valency observed, how * De Salkeld. Rev. George Warington- c 3 ( 30 ) much that brother must regret not having been with him at such a time. ** Yes," returned the Major, " I know he will be angry with me, when he learns how long I have been in Eng- land; but I would on no account interrupt his pleasures, and be tlie means of confining him to a sick room, when there is, in fact, not the least occasion for it. I know his disposition so well, that I am covinced, was he aware of my situation, he would fly to me, and never quit my side, till I could again enjoy myself as well as ever : I shall join him as soon as I am able, and shall have the pleasure of think- ing I have spared him much uneasi- ness," Miss Valency made some observa- tion on the amiable motive that made him so considerate, when he continued with much energy — " We are every thing to each other; we lost our parents in our infancy, ( 31 ) and have not a single relation sur- viving, who has any claim on our affec- tions. The difference in our ages is so trifling, that we were children and ineu together ; educated at the same semi- naries, and never separated, till a pre- dilection for a military life induced me to select the army as my profes- sion. Soon after my brother took pos- session of his hereditary property, which is too considerable to require that he should pursue any profession as a matter of necessity, he was travel- ing abroad for two or three years, but the renewal of hostilities obliged him to return." Miss Valency perceived that Ma- jor Burlington purposely dwelt on the subject of his connexions, in or- der to convince her of his respectabi- lity, and that the civility he had re- ceived, had not been lavished on a person, who might not with safety be admitted as an acquaintance. To prove c 4 ( ^2 ) that she had received a good report of him from high authority, she ob- served, that Sir Francis Heathcote had expressed his satisfaction, in having met in him an old and inti- mate friend. The Major, with an as- pect of indifference, returned, that he had been acquainted with Sir. Fran- cis several years, but he could boast of no intimacy with him at present. Miss Valency looked sur- prised, and rather hurt; and the anxiety that discovered itself in her countenance, together with the in- quiring glance she cast on him, con- vinced the Major she expected an ex- planation of his words, and he went 6n. " My knowledge of Sir Francis Heathcote originated in such pecu- Kar circumstances, as made an undeli- ble impression on my then youthful mind." — : — He hesitated, when Miss Valency, with increased uneasiness ( 33 ) apparent in her looks, said, '' Are they such as you are forbidden to ex- plain?" " No," he returned calmly, *' I do not feel myself bound by considera- tion for Sir Francis to suppress the particvdars of a detail, he has long ceased to remember as he ought. I was about eighteen, when my brother and I returned to spend one of the vacations at the house of our guard- ian, in the vicinity of which there re- sided a very respectable widow lady, who had an only daughter. We had been in the habit of visiting at the house, and were about to repair there as usual, when we learnt that the young lady (you will excuse my men- tioning names) was so dangerously ill, that no company could be admitted. She had been declining for some time, and was then supposed to be in a confirmed consumption. She was a most amiable, as well as beautiful C 5 ( 34 ) girl ; and we were conversing with deep regret on the subject, when her mother suddenly burst into the apart- ment, where we were sitting with our guardian. Her appearance evinced the most violent agitation and grief; and, in the presence of both my bro- ther and self, she explained the whole source of her wretchedness to our guardian, whose advice she came to implore. " My child is dying," she exclaimed, " and Sir Francis Heath- cote is her murderer !" Miss Valency turned pale ; but Ma- jor Burlington, without appearing to observe it, went on. '* By the unhappy mother's expla- nation, we learnt that Sir Francis had, by his own request, been introduced lo her daughter at a ball, about a year prior to that period, and from that time had paid her the most marked atten- tion, and it was soon universally re- ported that they were to be married ( 35 ) immediately ; but still he delayed to declare himself either to the mother or daughter, nor could they gain re- solution to forbid him the house, while he remained silent on the nature of his pretensions. At length he volun- tarily relaxed his visits, left the place, and they neither heard nor saw any thing of him for several months. The unfortunate young lady, who had placed all her hopes of happiness on a union with this unworthy man, who had deceived her into a persuasion that he fervently loved her, but that some cause, unknown to her, prevent- ed his being explicit, gradually droop- ed beneath the weight of her disap- pointment, and her health daily more imi3aired, she was at length reduced to the most alarming state. She had just recovered from a fainting fit, when her mother, in all the anguisli of despair, ilew to our guardian, and appealed to him as an old friend, con- ( 36 ) jiired him to write to Sir Francis, and inform him of her daughter's situa- tion ; a^d, in the terror and anxiety of the moment, forgot every thing, but what she conceived the only means of prolonging her child's existence. My guardian complied with her re- quest, and addressed a Tetter to Sir Francis, containing a representation, which none but a perfect savage could have contemplated unmoved. It had the effect expected : as soon as it was possible Sir Francis arrived. He was so strongly impressed with the dread, that if not actually no more, the young lady was at the point of death, that he dared not venture to the house, and the first time I saw him was when he entered the presence of my guardian ; his countenance marked by horror, and his whole ap- pearance indicative of agony and re- morse. My guardian relieved him by saying she was better, and pre- ( 37 ) pared to expect him; when, findmg the interview could no longer be de- layed, Sir Francis, in violent trepida- tion, rushed out of the house. The lady's gradual recovery was the con- sequence of his return ; and, while she continued in a precarious state, his attention to her was unremitting', and her mother informed us that he had explained himself to her entire satis- faction ; but, that his affairs at that time were so involved, as to forbid his marrying; but, whenever it was possible, her daughter was to be his wife : meantime they were regularly engaged, my guardian interfered no farther ; he knew Sir Francis was reputed wealthy, but whatever were his suspicions, he kept them to him- self; for the mother and daughter vi^ere again so completely infatuated, that they would not have attended to them. It is now six years since this affair took place, and this nominal en- ( 38 ) gagement existed till last winter. The lady had frequent relapses of indisposition, at which times Sir Fran- cis never failed to hasten to her; in the intervening period, it is noto- rious, he never was in a place without attaching himself to some young lady of beauty or distinction ; but when a serious explanation appeared to be expected, the plea of his engagement offered a ready excuse : this, how^ever, can now no longer avail him, for I am happy to say the young lady's reason has at length triumphed over her ill- placed passion, and she has gained resolution to break off the connexion ; a measure Sir Francis, by his indif- ference and nejglect, premeditatedly provoked her to adopt, in order that he might avoid the imputation of hav- ing deserted her, and the reflection that might fall on him, should any fatal consequences ensue." The Ma- jor paused, when Miss Valency, in a ( 39 ) low tone, asked if he had ever heard more of the lady? To which he replied, he had not gained any intelligence re- specting her for some time, and added, *' I saw her, about a year ago, just before I quitted England ; she was then merely the shadow of her former self, though she is still youthful ; for she was only seventeen when Sir Fran- cis first saw her ; but so greatly is her beauty impaired, that she appears con- siderably older than she is," Major Burlington again paused, in expectation of Miss Valency's ani- madversions, but she remained silent, and he continued. *' After what I have now related, it cannot be supposed that I could en- tertain any great degree of veneration for Sir Francis Heathcote, nor any wish to rank him among my friends ; we have frequently met since our. first encounter, and always as acquaint- ances, and in his heart Sir Francis ( 40 ) likes me no better than I do him ; and though he honoured me Vvith the ap- pellation of his old friend, I am per- fectly aware that, but for a mistake which he mentioned relative to my name, he would not have taken the trouble to find me out." Miss Valency faintly smiled, but spoke not. The entrance of her mo- ther and sister proved a most sea- 4S0nable relief to her, and she soon found a pretext for leaving the room when an indifferent subject was started. Mrs. Irby came in to pay her morn- ing visit, and no sooner perceived the Mujor, than guessing who he was, she, without waiting for an in- troduction, addressed him most cordi- ally saying, *' Major Brompton I am rejoiced to see you so much recovered." ** Burlington," whispered Honoria. " I beg your pardon, Major Turling- ton, I am sorry to see your arm in a ( 41 ) sling ; I hope you have not met with any accident since you arrived." The Major replied in the negative, and expressed himself obliged by her solicitude for his welfare. ** Indeed," she continued, '* the stairs at your lodgings are extremely bad ; I mounted them one day to look at the finery in the milliner s show room ; I should not wonder at any body fall- ing down, and breaking their neck instead of their arm." . ** An accident certainly might hap- pen in descending them, but a very little caution-^ — ' *' Accident !" inter upted Mrs. Irby, only catching that word from the low key in which the Major spoke. "I have no doubt many have hap- pened there before — but I hope Ma- jor Turlington you have not neglect- ed it !" Honor ia again rectified the error in the name, while the Major, rather op- ( 42 ) pressed by this vociferous attack, took the opportunity of bowing off. Mrs. Irby continued talking of him till she tired all her auditors, and fail- ed not, when she returned home, to inform her family, that poor Major Birmingham had fallen down those abominable stairs, at the milliner's, and broken his arm. ( 43 ) CHAPTER IV. I will not complain, and though chill'd is affec- tion, With me no corroding resentment shall live ; My bosom is calm'd by the simple reflection. That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive. LOKD BYRON. Xhe sensations Miss Valency ex- perienced, after her interview with Major Burlington, were of the most painful description : not that she en- tertained any doubts of Sir Francis's intentions in regard to herself, for he had been perfectly unreserved in his explanation to the Admiral, and was the very next day going to London, in order to expedite the settlements ; ( 44 ) but, the lack of principle, honour, and feeling', which his conduct had be- trayed, made her tremble for her fu- ture happiness in a union with him. When, too, she reflected what wretch- edness it might occasion the unfor- tunate lady he had treated so cruelly, and perhaps many others, whose very existence she was ignorant of — she felt inclined to resign all thoughts of a connexion that must be built upon the misery of others. Major Burling- ton's communication had a cast of authenticity that could not be disr puted ; and, in support of it, she could not fail to recollect how often, at dif- ferent places where she had met the Baronet, she had heard it reported, that he was attached to such or such a lady. It was that which had first put her on her guard against him, and caused her to shun him. But since he had so openly avowed him- self her lover, and her heart had em- ( 45 ) braced his cause, she had persuaded herself that his former temporary pre- possessions, had only been affected to provoke her jealousy, and with a view of making her betray a partiality for him which he had so long endeavour- ed to excite, even, as it now appeared, at the very time that he was engaged to another. One only idea presented itself to sooth her feelings ; which was, that she certainly must have inspired Sir Francis with a very strong attach- ment, before he could have resolved on giving up that liberty he had hither- to been so averse to resigning. '' Yet," thought she, " had my af- fections been attained with less diffi- culty, I too should doubtless have been of the number of his victims; but opposition has stimulated his pas- sion, till it has gained ascendancy^ even over his vanity." Such was in some measure the ( 46 case; but Sir Francis's vanity be- gan to be satiated with the multitude of sacrifices he had devoted to it; and, having attained his thirty-fifth year, he conceived it time seriously to think of matrimony ; and self being ever the primary object in his estima- tion, he considered, that a barren and deserted old age held out no very alluring prospect; but that, on the con- trary, a beautiful young wife, and a rising offspring, offered a much more pleasing contemplation. Under the influence of these reflections, he de- termined to espouse Miss Valency, in whom he saw combined every requi- site to give charms to domestic life. Fortune was no object to him, and her connexions were genteel and highly respectable. Miss Valency had so long withheld her heart from yielding to the Baro- net's solicitations, that when at length she did surrender it, it was not with ( 47 ) that entire devotediiess, with which she would have resigned it to one whom she had never mistrusted. She was not romantically in love, but felt a very sincere regard for him, or ra- ther for the person she imagined him to be. She thought with pleasure of becoming his wife, and knew no one with whom she believed she could be so happy. He was very agreeable, handsome in person, entertaining in conversation, and the most assiduous lover in the world ; so much so, that no one could be in company with liim without discovering to whom he was devoted. The fact was, that Sir Francis had been so constantly in the habit of se- lecting some fair object to particular- ize, and pay exclusive attention to, wherever he was in the company of females, that it was quite a matter of course to him, and he would not have felt satisfied had he not been ( 48 ) persuaded, that all the gentleiiieli present were envying him the mono- poly of the loveliest woman in the room. Major Burlington was so perfectly acquainted with the Baronet's propen- sity, that he ro sooner gathered from his conversation, that he was intimate in Mrs. Valency's family, than he was convinced one of the young la- dies was the object of attraction ; and his conclusions were confirmed by hearing, through the people where he lodged, a report to the same effect. He thought he could not do a more friendly act, in return for the kindness that had been shewn him, than to ap- prize his friends, for such they had proved themselves, of what sort of cha- racter they were admitting on an inti- macy. Sir Francis had breathed no hint of his approaching nuptials, in the Major's presence, or the latter would have been silent on the sub- ( 49 ) ject of the Baronet's past conduct; but he entertained not a doubt, that he ^vas merely seeking food for his vani- ty, and he felt impatient for an oppor- tunity of puttingthefamilyonits guard ; and, so favourable an occasion occur- ring at his first visit, he at once re- solved to avail himself of it. By the emotion Miss Valency be- trayed, he inferred that it wa^ to her Sir Francis had attached himself, and that he had succeeded in exciting an interest in her heart ; and that induced Major Burlington to enter more into particulars than he would otherwise have done. He felt deeply for tlie pain he feared he was inflicting, l^ut con- soled himself with the thought that it would be the means of preventing future and protracted misery. As Miss Valency reflected on tlio author of her present unhappiness (as she at the moment considered VOL. I. D ( 50 ) Major Burlington), she felt a degree of resentment against him for the inter- ruption he had offered to her agreeable prospects ; but the sensation was short- lived, and she became sensible that she ought to be obliged to him, as his mo- tive was apparent. But it suddenly struck her that he might have some private cause of enmity against Sir Francis, and that the exaggerated light in which he had represented the circumstances he had related, had eiven to them so strong: a colouring. She recalled what he had alledo-ed of the Baronet's dislike of him, but but then she recollected what Sir Fran- cis had said of Major Burlington's person ; and, with a pang, she admit- ted it was unjust, and betrayed ei- ther envy or aversion. She was glad he was going to Lon- don the next day ; for, under the im- pression that now affected her mind, she felt that she could not behave to ( 51 ) him as usual. During his absence she should have leisure to reflect on what she had heard, consult her friends, and determine on how she ought to act. Slie resolved not to mention a word of what had transpired till he was gone, and to endeavour as far as was in her power to conceal that any thing had occurred to distress her, for she feared the Baronet (who would of course hear of Major Burlington's visit) might suspect the ti'uth. Sti- mulated by this apprehension, she ex- erted herself to banish all semblance of uneasiness, nor did Sir Francis, in the course of the evening, perceive any thing in her demeanour calculated to excite his suspicions. He asked her how she liked Major Burlington ? She replied that she could not pretend to form an opinion of a person in one interview, but that he appeared mild and amiable. Sir Francis dissented D 2 ( 52 ) by his looks, but said nothing. Ho- noria cried, *' But how could you say he was not good looking ? he is the most in- teresting man I have seen a long time, indeed I think him quite handsome.'' " Handsome !" echoed Sir Francis, in atone of amazement, — " poor, sal- low, miserable looking animal ! — no, jX)or Burlington has certainly no pre- tensions to " " You must permit us to decide on that,'' interrupted Honoria; " we will allow you to be the arbiter of female beauty, but I am quite sure there are few women, who would not admit Major Burlington to be handsome.'' "That may be," said the Baronet with some asperity, "but /cannot admit the correctness of the female taste in all instances. For example, there is Spen- cer Burlington, the Major's brother, be is in my eyes, little less than down- right tfgli/, and the most insufferable ( 53 ) coxcomb breathing; yet he is cried up, and made such a fuss about, all the women running after him, till his head is absolutely turned. It is sickening to see such puppies encouraged to make fools of themselves. I really think the ladies do it merely to amuse themselves ; I can account for it no otherwise." " Is he like his brother ?" asked Honoria ; *' if he is that will account for it sufficiently !" Sir Francis affected not to hear the latter part of this speech, but replied to the former interrogation. ** No, not at all ; he is a dancing, grinning, capering Mr. Merryman, who always seems as if he was striving to convince people how little he cared for them, and how perfectly well satisfied he was with himself: in short, he is exactly what he promised to be when a boy ; all that disgusting self-conceit about him, that betrays a D 3 { 54 ) fancied superiority ; I could trace it in his looks the very first time I ever saw him''' " How did your aquaintance ori- ginate?" Demanded Miss Valency, with a throbbing heart, but in a tone of indifference. Sir Francis, for a moment [appeared at a loss ; he stammered, and then said he really had forgotten : but suddenly seeming to recollect himself, he added : ** O ! I remember now ; I w as ac- quainted with Oiie of their guardians, at whose house I encountered both the Burlingtons ; and, to please the old gentleman, I took notice of them. Since then we have often met, but Spencer Burlington is to me so ex- tremely disagreeable, that I never see him when I can help it; though he generally contrives to force himself on the notice of whatever company he may be in. His brother is less offensive, because he presumes less ; but I really ( 55 ) believe Speneer Burlington thinks every woman he speaks to is in love with him ; at all events, he wishes to make them so/' " Two of a trade never agree,' said the Admii'al, laying down a pe- riodical work, in which, heedless of the conversation that was passing, he had been reading a severe philippic on another production ; while Ilono- ria was laughing aside, at the appo- siteness of his remark to the discourse they had been engaged in, the Admi- ral continued intent on his subject. " It is astonisliing how these au- thors delight in cutting up each other ! The moment a person has appeared in print, no matter under how insigni- ficant a form, they think themselves entitled to criticise, without mercy, whatever comes under their eyes." " That an author should read with the eye of a critic," observed Mrs. Valency, " I think not only natural, D 4 ( 56 ) but proper, in order to avoid the faults he may discern in the works of others." '' Certainly; but why should he publish the fruits of his discernment to the world ?" *' Simply to prove that he has dis- cernment." "* Then I should be much better pleased if he would make use of it to discover that the bickerings of au- thors are very uninteresting to readers in general ; and, that the less they find fault with others, the more clemency they will meet with themselves. What do you think of this work Sir Fran- cis?" continued the Admiral — but Sir Francis was so busy whispering to Miss Valency, that he heard him not ; and with a smile the old gentle- man resumed his book, which he sel- dom found himself called on to re- linquish, when the Baronet was the only guest. ( 57 ) CHAPTER V. On his dark face a scorching clime. And toil, had done the work of time ; Roughen'd the brow, the temples bar'd. And sable hairs with silver shar'd ; Yet left what age alone could tame. The lip of pride, the eye of flame. ROKEBY Jyliss Valency passed a sleepless night ; the manner m which Sir Fran- cis had spoken of Major Burlington, and his brother, plainly evinced the disposition of his heart towards them, and seemed to corroborate all that the Major had asserted ; betraying that uncharitable sentiment people are too apt to harbour against those whom D 5 ( 58 ) they know to be acquainted with their foibles. She no longer delayed imparting to her mother and sister the substance of Major Burlington's communica- tion. They most fully participated in her uneasiness, nor could dispute the justice of her determination when she declared, that were she but con- vinced, that the young lady in ques- tion was still (notwithstanding the effort she had made to resign him) attached to Sir Francis, she should not hesitate a moment in dissolving her engagement with him. But how could that be ascertained ? Major Burlington had neither mentioned her name, nor that of his guardian. Miss Valency suddenly recollected some letters that Sir Francis had once shewn her as models of style and hand writing. At his request she had perused them, when she could not question their being the effusions f 59 ) of a refined and fervent attachment to himself. Somewhat disgusted at the vanity which had impelled him to display them to her, she returned them, coldly observing, that the fair writer of those epistles had certainly never intended that they should meet any eyes but his, and little thought they would be the means of deterring another of her own sex from ever venturing to correspond with him. Sir Francis looked much discontent- ed, but assured her, that had not the hand which had traced them been long since mingled with the dust, no consideration should have induced him to shew them. Miss Valency had believed him at the time, but she now began to question his veracity. She remembered the signature was " Elizabeth Melville," and she strong- ly suspected that this was the very person Major Burlington had alluded to. To ascertain that point she ( 60 ) thought would not be difficult ; and, should her conclusions prove just, she should have a clue to enable her to discover the actual situation of the young lady. She expressed all her thoughts to her mother and sister ; and the former suggested the proprie- ty of consulting the Admiral, to which her daughter readily assented. He was accordingly intrusted with the whole afiair ; but they found his ideas on the subject widely differed from theirs. He was extremely angry wdth Major Burlington for his officious interference, (as he termed it) and continued with great warmth — *' What have you to do with Sir Fran- cis's former flirtations ? He prefers you to every body else, and is not that sufficient? Would you lose the chance of such a capital match for a nonsen- sical idea about a love-sick girl ; who, after all, probably does not care a far- thing for him now, and may have I ( 61 ) broken off the engagement because she liked somebody else better. It is the most ridiculous thinsr I ever heard of in my life ; any one would suppose you M^anted a pretext for getting off, or in other words jilting him !" " I am sorry it appears in a ridicu- lous point of view to you, Sir," re- turned Miss Valency, " for I consider it of the first consequence, and would rather live single all my life than prove accessary to the mi!^ery of ano- ther ; nay, I am certain, I should but insure my own by a connexion formed under such auspices ; and, independ- ent of any consideration for this un- fortunate young lady, I question if I should not be committing an act of the rashest imprudence, in allying myself to a man who could act as he is al- ledged to have acted ; and I declare, could I ascertain, beyond a doubt, that this account has not been exag- ( 62 ) gerated, I would resolve on giving^ him up." " You provoke me beyond mea- sure," cried* the Admiral ^ extremely irritated, " I can't understand how you for a moment can harbour such a sus- picion of a man whom you affect to love. I should be much less sur- prised if your wrath was kindled against a stranger who dared to tra- duce him." Mrs. Valency now spoke. — " I see no motive Major Burlington could have for traducing Sir Francis ; in- deed, I should rather think he was instigated by the most friendly inten- tion. I certainly should feel the live- liest regret at dissolving a connexion I conceived so very desirable ; and, if Sir Francis's former predilections had been coniined to mere flirtations, I should have thought little of it ; but if the life of an amiable young woman has been at stake through his caprice ( 63 ) and neglect, it alters the case entirely, and I should grieve to see my child united to a man so devoid of feeling and principle." ** Poph, poph, poph — all stuft' and romantic nonsense : you have only heard one side of the story ; and, as for you, Ella, I cannot help questioning the strength of your affection, when I see you so ready to give up your lover." " I am ready to give him up. Sir," returned Miss Valency, with difficulty suppressing her tears, " though I own it would cost me a most painful effort; yet I am ready, and will give him up, if my suspicions are verified." The subject was continued some time longer, while the Admiral per- severed in supporting Sir Francis in the most strenuous manner. He had set his heart on the match, and took some credit to himself for having (as he imagined) brought the Baronet to ( 64 ) the pomt by a little judicious man- oeuvring, to which he entirely imputed Sir Francis's candid declaration. His object was to secure wealthy men of rank for his grand nieces, whom he loved as his children, and he believed he had adopted the most effectual means of promoting their felicity. He would have shrunk wdth horror from the idea of their forming a connexion with a man, whose character was sul- lied by any of those stains which the world pronounces to be indelible ; but inconstancy in his ow7h sex he thought a vei^ pardonable offence, though in a woman a crime never to be forgiven. He had suffered much in his youth from the indecision of a distinguished beauty, who, after keepmg him some time in suspence, had thought fit to prefer his rival. From that period he had abjured the tender passion, and made ambition his idol, and he never failed to experience a sensation of ( 65 ) pleasure, when he heard of an instance of perjured love, in which the lady was the sufferer. Not that he was of a cruel, or revengeful disposition, hut his temper was inclined to morose- ness, and he never could reflect upon an injury that had been committed against him, with that perfect charity which results from entire forgiveness, tliough he professed not to harljoiir resentment. He prided himself on avoiding all the peculiarities indica- tive of his profession, and he hated every thing tliat put him in mind of it. He had pursued it as the road to fame and wealth, and had attained them at the expense of temper and good looks ; the latter were of little consequence at his age, but the for- mer would have been a source of never-ending comfort to him ; but the absolute and despotic sway exercised over a ship's crew, had given a cast to his disposition it could never recover, ( 66 ) any more than his promment features could the influence of climates aud seasons. His stature, which was of gigantic height, was contracted to the standard of common sized men, by the strong incHnation of his body ; in other respects, though bordering on seventy, he betrayed few of the infir- mities of age. His dress was par- ticular, and never varied. Over a brown bob wig, he wore a perfectly circular hat with a wide rim, and broad black ribbon tied in a large bo\y in front; a very thin cravat, from which his long neck protruded some inches ; a low collared light green frock coat, united by gilt buttons down the front, reaching to the tops of an enormous pair of jack boots ; he was always decorated with a bou- quet; and, if he could get nothing bet- ter, he would stick a piece of thyme or rosemary in his button hole ; on no occasion was he ever known to . ( 67 ) wear a great coat. Thus apparelled he woukl stride over the country for miles, in hopes of keepmg off his in- veterate enemy the gout, which often interrupted his rambles, and laid him up for months together, tlis eccen- tric appearance excited the curiosity of all who beheld him, but that rather gratified him, for he was proud of his rank, and liked people to inquire who he was; and, with this view, he pro- bably persevered in a mode of dress peculiar to himself. Having said thus much of the Admiral, we must not quit him without observing, that he had his agreeable^^^, and while every body gave way to him, and appealed to him as an oracle, he was often ex- tremely pleasant ; but, when he was crossed by opposition, though he did not always denote rage, he would re- main silent and sullen for hours, and sometimes days together. But he could be wrought upon, for he was ( 68 ) not destitute of feeling ; his affections centred wholly in Mrs. Valency's family, and he agreed with them bet- ter than he could have been expected; for their tempers were amiable, though we by no means intend to imply that they were of that meek, tame, passive disposition we have so often read of, but never yet had the good fortune to encounter. ( 69 ) CHAPTER \ J A heart too soft from early life. To hold with fortune needful strife. ROKEBY. JNjLiss Valency was anxious to be again in Major Burlington's company, hoping an opportunity might occur to cliscorer if Melville was the name of the lady he alluded to. She knew he would be cautious not to suffer it to transpire if he was aware of her de- sign, but she trusted by a little finesse to counteiact his prudence. Her mo- ther, participating in all her feehngs, invited the Major to spend an evening with them ; and, as he was now rapidly recovering, he with pleasure availed ( 70 ) liimself of her hospitality. A letter Miss Valency that morning received from Sir Francis, replete with the fondest expressions of confiding love, made her still more desirous of ob- taining the information, she knew it was in the Major s power to impart, Mrs. Irby's family, and some other, were assembled to meet him, and at the same time afforded Ella an oppor- tunity of conversing with him more conveniently than she could, had only a few been present, when the conver- sation must have been general. It was easy to seat herself next him without any apparent contrivance ; and, as the rest of the party were formed into couples and trios, it re- mained for these two to entertain each other. But Ella found it was not so easy a task as she had imagined, to lead the conversation to the subject she wished, and which so engrossed her mind, as to render her absent and ( 71 ) inattentive to every thing the Major said. At length she abruptly asked him if he were acquainted with Lord Melville ? " No," returned the Major; " is he at Weymouth ?" *' O no, I believe not," said Ella.' *' Is his Lordship a particular friend of yours ?" inquired Major Burlington, concluding she had of course some motive for the sudden mention of this noble personage. " No," she replied, slightly colour- ing. '' I am not acquainted with a single person of that name ; it is rather un- common, is not it?" " No, I think not, I have met with it frequently." *' In females?" was on the lips of Ella, but caution stopped her, and the Major added, " It is by no means un- common in the army." This seemed to imply an illusion to ( 72 ) some military acquaintance, and Ella was as much in the dark as ever. A walk on the esplanade was proposed by some of the party, which was as- sented to by the majority of the com- pany. Mrs. Valency approached the Major, saying, she hoped he would not attempt Avhat might fatigue him, but attach himself to the home divi- sion ; but he was averse to remaining behind the younger part, and said lie thought a turn or two would be of service to him. Again he found him- self next to Miss Valency, without being aware that he had any thing but chance to thank for the honour of a place by her side. He was unable to keep up with the rest of the party, so that they were soon at a distance, and he apologized to Ella for detain- ing her; but, she said she preferred walking slow, and would not permit him to attempt hurrying himself; ob- serving, that when their friends turn- ed, they should re-unite. ( T3 ) Major Burlington could not im- pute her behaviour to any motive flattering to his vanity, as her abstract- ed air, and vague answers convinced liim he engaged very little of her at- tention ; and he concluded that com- passion alone induced her to suit her pace to his. She was still lost in a maze of perplexity, in which she vainly endeavoured to discover the means of accomplishing her design, when she was startled by an exclamation of pleasure and surprise from her companion, who suddenly hastened forward with extended hand, towards an elderly gentleman, who was ad- vancing with two ladies. Mutual expressions of pleasure, de- noting an unex|>ected meeting, were littered by both parties; the ladies too shook hands with Major Burlington, and each seemed equally rejoiced at the rencontre, Ella concluded by their ^ippearance that the elder lady and VOL. I. E ( 74 ) gentleman were the parents of the younger female, who had a pleasing countenance, but whose looks mdicated ill health : her smile was languid, and she spoke in the low voice of depression , though evidently pleased at beholding Major Burlington. That gentleman found himself rather in an awkward predicament ; he was extremely averse to quitting his old friends, almost at the moment they had met, but wished to join them for a short time, to say all that seems struggling for utterance at the sight of friends, from whom we have been long separated. But to quit Miss Valency, and leave her alone, (for her party was at the furthest end of the esplanade) was out of the ques- tion ; so, to compromise the matter, he begged leave to introduce her to one of his oldest friends, as he presented Mr. Grantly ; then added, turning to the ladies, " Mrs. and Miss Melville." Ella felt the blood rush to her heart, ( 75 ) wliich beat violently for some mo- ments, as (having joined the stran- gers,) .slie endeavoured to overcome the agitation she experienced from the idea, which instantly suggested itself, that this Mr. Grantly was the gentle- man the Major had alluded to as his guardian, and the two females the ve- ry persons, whose injuries had so ex- asperated him against Sir Francis Heathcote. She was unable for some minutes to attempt joining in convert sation, but every word that was spoken confirmed her suspicions. Mrs. Melville, a goodnatured, loqua- cious, but by no means sensible wo- man, informed Major Burlington, that the precarious state of her daughter's health had occasioned their repairing to Weymouth, in order to try the efficacy of sea bathing, and that Mr Grantly had been so kind as to volunteer escorting them, and promised to be their beau while there. X 2 ( 76 ) '' Elizabeth is better ah-eady I think," continued Mrs Melville ; *' her cough is less violent, and she has not complained of her old pain in the side since we set out" *' Elizabeth!" mentally replied Ella; ^'Elizabeth Melville. Good heavens! there is no longer any room for doubt! unfortunate interesting creature ! rather would I die than inflict another pang on that heart which has endured so much." Miss Melville, faintly smiling, said, "she did indeed feel considerably bet- ter, and had no doubt she should soon be quite well." — She suppressed a sigh as she terminated these words. Ella could not look at her ; she was con- vinced if she did, she should burst into tears ; she even vvished she could shut her ears to a voice that seemed to her as the low moanings of a broken heart, and the gentle though solemn demon- stration that proclamed Sir Francis a inurderer. She rejoiced to perceive ( 77 ) her party approaching, when, wishing the strangers a hurried good even- ing, she hastened from them, leaving both them and the Major impressed with an idea that she was displeased at the introduction, and that her si- lence and reserve proceeded from pride. As she quitted them, Major Bur- lington said, he should return very speedily to Mrs. Valency, which he accordingly did, after having remain- ed a short time longer in conversa- tion with his friends. The walking party had re-entered, but Miss Valen- cy had retired on the plea of a tri- fling indisposition. Her mother and sister partly guessed the cause, and on Honoria's following her, Ella con- fessed to her that all her suspicions w^ere verified ; in her then state of mind she wished to be alone, but would inform her of every particular at the next opportunity. E 3 ( 78 ) Honoria, with a heavy heart rejoin- ed the party in the drawing room. Music was proposed : both Miss Irby and Honoria were performers, and also sung together; but had it not been for the profound attention Major BurHngton and William Irby paid to their harmony, and the pleasure they appeared to derive from it, the young ladies would speedily have ceased their exertions ; for Mrs. Irby and her eldest son were doing their utmost to support, what they called conversa- tioji, with some persons at the further end of the room. Mrs. Valency could not be so rude as to impose silence on them, or force them to attend to what it was evident gave them no amusement. As to the Admiral, he was suffering the horrors of a sullen fit. He was very much displeased at Major Burlington's being invited to the house ; and, though he did not choose to say any thing about it, his ( 79 ) feelings on the occasion were very apparent to those who understood their operations. He had withdrawn to the most retired corner of the room, and affected to be reading, though he probably was only pondering on the canse of his discontent. His age was an excuse for the peculiarity of his manner, and no one present thought of resenting what in a young person would have been considered as an affront to the company. Jonathan Irby'g ir.CllOtonous and incessant dratvl, was much more an- noying than the Admiral's total silence. Jonathan was never tired of hearing his own voice, and was the only per- son in the world that could out-talk his mother. He aimed at being a man of ton ; and, in order to succeed in his design, endeavoured to copy the manners of his groom as nearly as possible. But even in that hum- ble attempt he failed ; for he was one E 4 ( 80 ) of those unfortunate persons, who could never learn any thing; and though he had effectually contrived to throw off every vestige of the real gentleman, he had not been able to catch the real downright fashionable cant, but which he was continually attempting ; rendering himself as much an object of ridicule to those he wished to imi- tate, as to those who beheld with disgust the prevalence of a mode, which must daily gain ground, be- cause it supercedes the necessity of either sense, manners, or education. Vulgarity and folly w ill never want votaries ; for they require nothing but obedience to their dictates. Mr. Irby was one of their most willing slaves. He was possessed of consider- able property, and from an early age had been entirely his own master ; for his mother never attempted to con- troul him. Before the rage for becom- ing a man of fashion had seized him. ( 81 ) he had fancied himself violently in love with Honoria, and had made her an offer of his hand, which she had de- clined without hesitation. This he had never forgiven, nor ever lost an oppor- tunity of saying any thing he thought would annoy her : but he was an ob- ject so totally insignificant in her eyes, that his efforts to make himself of con- sequence were generally lost on her, and only excited her mirth. His bro- ther was a person of a very different description; he was very amiable, and generally entertaining ; invariably rea- dy to oblige, and sound in heart and principle. He was romantic, and attempted to poetize, but was fonder of quoting others ; and bad shreds of poetry at command, which he often in- troduced with apposite and ready wit. He was quite as much inclined as his brother had been to acknowledge Honoria s power, but her total indiffe- rence, and the ridicule with which E 5 ( 82 ) she treated the slightest hint of his sentiments, prevented their attainmg strength enough to make him very unhappy. Miss Irby was an e very-day Miss in her teens, just beginning to look out for an establishment; rather pretty, and an indefatigable manufacturer of card-racks, boxes, screens, &c. to the formation of which she devoted the greatest portion of her time. She had been rather displeased, and much sur- prised at Miss Valency's monopoly of Major Burlington, during the former part of the evening ; but as he after- wards paid her some compliment on her singing, sat next to her at supper, and never once expressed any solici- tude as to the cause of Miss Valen- cy's absence, she forgave the latter, and declared the Major to be a very charming man. Nor would she give any credit to her mother's asseveration on their return home, that Miss Valen- ( 83 ) cy and Major Burlington had certainly had a quarrel, which was the reasoa she had left the company in that odd sort of way, and she (Mrs Irby) had no doubt that the Major wanted Miss Valency to give up Sir Francis, and accept of him as a lover : indeed she was quite certain of it, from the observation she had made that evening. To give up Sir Francis was now indeed Miss Valency's first wish, and the hours which she spent in solitude she devoted to the consideration of how she could best effect a step she was determined on. She must ac- quaint him with the real motive of the change in her resolution; and she dreaded exciting his suspicions that Major Burlington was her informer ; and thereby, exciting him, perhaps to demand an explanation of the Major. But were she to tell him v iss Mel- ville was at Weymouth, that she had been introduced to her, and remind ( 84 ) • him of the name he had shewn her, he might infer that her own con- clusions had pretty w^ell acquainted her with the truth. After pondering on the subject for some time, she sat down to w rite to Sir Francis, but had finished only the first side, when her mother and sister joined her; the latter slept in the same apartment with her, and Mrs. Valency came in great anxiety to learn the cause of her increased uneasiness. This she was soon made acquainted with, and agreed with her eldest daughter, that no alternative remained but to dissolve the connexion with Sir Francis ; for Ella sincerely be- lieved that his marriage with another would accelerate Miss Melville's death, which she dreaded w^as fast approaching ; and nothing could have induced her to espouse a man, the living sacrifice of whose villany she had beheld in so interestins: a form. ( 85 ) Mrs. Valency was anxious to make her own observations on Miss Mel- ville's appearance ; it was no difficult matter to form an acquaintance with her mother ; they were strangers at Weymouth, and would probably be glad to meet with any body disposed to shew them attention. Mrs. Valen- cy said, she would the next day in- quire of Major Burlington,if he thought society would be agreeable to his friends, and he most likely would escort her to. their abode. She advised Ella not to finish her letter till the next day, which the latter agreed to, recollecting that after her mother had visited Mrs. Melville, she might acquaint Sir Francis that they had formed an acquaintance with that lady. He might thus be deterred from hastening back to Weymouth, which she apprehended he would do on the receipt of an epistle, of a tenor so wholly unexpected. To see Sir ( 86 ) Francis nncler such circumstances was what she luost particularly wished to a\oid : she could not think of the man she had for some time considered as her future husband, without a se- vere pang : she felt in relinquishing him a painful void in her heart; and, though she did not hesitate in her duty, she was conscious that she must be unhappy, till reason and reflection had reconciled her to what she knew to be right. ( 87 ) CHAPTER VII. O'er whose pale lip the vital breath Comes faint and chill, like the damp of death* MISS HOLFORD, Xhe next morning, at breakfast, Mrs. Valency informed the Admiral of all that had transpired on the pre- ceding evening, and provoked him to utter something more than a mono- syllable, to which he had obstinately confined himself, from the time lie had heard of the invitation to Major Burlington. He now again inveighed in violent terms against the Major, as being the author of all the present perplexity. He declared it was the ( 88 ) very height of absurdity, to set it down as a fact, that Miss Melville "was dying for Sir Francis, because she happened to be unwell, and come to Weymouth for her health ; and that if Ella wrote a dismissal to Sir Fran- cis on so trifling a pretext, she would incur his severest and permanent dis- pleasure. On being reminded of Sir Francis's duplicity, in having asserted that the lady, whose letters he had shewn Ella, was no more, the Admiral said, he had no doubt Sir Francis had spoken the truth, and that this was some other Miss Melville: however, he offered no objection to Mrs. Valency calling on Mrs. Melville; but, on the contrary, rather approved of it, and said he was determined to accompany her himself, and trust to his own observation ; and not be imposed on by a dismal story about the wretchedness apparent in Miss Melville's looks, voice, and man- ( 89 ) iier, M liich the force of their imagina- tions would persuade them they dis- cerned. Accordingly, he, with Mrs. Valen- cy and Honoria, escorted by Major Burlington, repaired to Mrs. Mel- ville's lodgings. She was at home, and her daughter also was visible, nor did the latter seem averse to conver- sation, but displayed much courtesy towards the guests ; and, by her gen- teel and conciliating manner, increased the prepossession her interesting, though no longer lovely, person in- spired. Mrs. Melville was merely her daughter's echo ; she appealed to her on all occasions, saw with her eyes, heard with her ears, and under- stood with her understanding; and, was so completely wrapped up in her, that when she was out of sight, she could speak of no other object. Mrs. Valency was glad to perceive that Miss Melville's appearance was ( 90 ) less indicative of wretchedness than Ella had represented it, though she certainly looked extremely out of health ; for her cheeks were colourless, and her eyes sunken. The Admiral scanned her with an inquisitive gaze; he could not help admitting that she looked il], and sometimes checked a sigh, but thought that otherwise her spirits seemed to- lerably good. However, he resolved to make a formidable effort to dis- cover her real feelings ; and, as they were discoursing on various trifling subjects connected with the place, as the walks, public places, &c. he sud- denly observed, that the ladies had lost their chief beau in the absence of Sir Francis Heathcote, but that he woidd speedily return. A dead pause succeeded this ob- servation : it lasted but a few mo- ments; for Major Burlington, by some common place remark, endeavoured ( 91 ) to aid the embarrassment that seemed extended over the party, and which ]iad its source in the expression of Mrs. Melville's countenance ; w^hicli was literally aghast, as her eyes fell upon her daughter, and she seemed entirely to have forgotten that any one elae was present. Miss Melville's fea- tures did not immediately betray any particular emotion, and the Admiral watched in vain for themantling blood, which he expected would have suf- fused it. But the whole form at that moment looked absolutely bloodless ; her mouth opened a little, and she breathed with difficulty for the space of a minute, when an universal trem- bling seized her ; and, rising precipi- tately, she tottered out of the room, faintly articulating, " A little giddi- ness — ^ — ■ excuse me olten thus." Her mother, without waiting to apo- logize, hurried after her. Mrs. Va- lency immediately arose;. and, with ( 92 ) some severity in her voice, said to the Admiral — ** Noiv, Sir, I suppose you are rea- dy to 2:0." He made no reply, but followed her out of the house ; and, on their way home, lingered behind with the Major, whom he now addressed with great cordiality. They were out of hearing, and Mrs. Valency, Avith an unequal voice, said to Honoria, " That poor girl ! — ^just as she was conversing so cheerfully too, and had exerted herself to overcome her feelings — to have them so suddenly, so painfully assailed — to be told that the unwor- thy man, whose name I doubt not struck a panic to her heart, would speedily be in the same place with her— O ! it was barbarous ! I cannot forgive the Admiral." Honoria brushed her hand hastily across her eyes, but she did not speak ; for she was so much affected at the ( 95 ) thoughts of the unhappy young lady's sufterings, that her heart was quite full. The Major wished them good morning at the door of their house, and in silence they all ascended to the drawing room, where Ella was most anxiously awaiting their return, but had hardly expected to see them so soon. The moment they entered, she was convinced something particular had occurred, and she interrogated them with her eyes, though she spoke not. But though all understood her, no one seemed inclined to answer, and all but the Admiral seated themselves in profound silence, while a species of dismay hung on the features of each individual. Mrs. Valency could not, at that moment, so far overcome the resentment she experienced against the Admiral, as to relate what had happened, in terms that would have been agreeable to his ears ; therefore, while he continued present, she bri- ( 94 ) died her tongue. He seemed inclined to put her self-command to the test ; for he betrayed no intention of quitting the apartment, which he was travers- ing with rapid strides, and making the most hideous faces, by which he al- ways indicated when his mind was agitated, as well as by turning quickly round before he had reached the ex- tremity of the room, as if he fancied himself confined to the limits of a quarter deck, where some obstruction interrupted his progress beyond a cer- tain distance. Honoria, who thought the scene did not appear likely to ter- minate, made a sign to her sister to leave the room with her, in order to put a period to her suspense ; but, at that moment, the Admiral stopped be- fore Ella ; and, after various frightful contortions of his features he said, in a voice that seemed impelled by a de- gree of strength, gathered by long suppression, ( 95 ) ** Sir Francis Heathcote is a scoun- drel! go, finish your letter to him, and let it be the last you ever write to a man who is a disgrace to his sex." The ladies quitted the room toge- ther, and the Admiral continued a so- liloquy, which amounted to something very like a funeral oration over his friendship for Sir Francis. His heart was not proof against the sight of Miss Melville's disorder, so evident- ly excited by the allusion to the Ba- ronet ; the old gentleman was really terrified at the consequence of what he had said, and reproached himself severely for having wantonly wounded the afliicted heart, which he no longer doubted was devoted to Sir Francis. His feelings once thoroughly aroused, he became open to conviction, and gave implicit credit to every thing Ma- jor Burlington had asserted ; he was angry with himself, and felt that atone- ( 96 ) nieut was due somewhere, and com- menced the task of reparation, by sei- zing the first opportunity of concilia- ting the Major, to whom his polite- ness was so much in arrears. Having insisted on his dining w ith him, he felt in better humour with himself, and he returned home meditating, with some embarrassment on how he should at once acknowledge the total change of his sentiments in regard to Sir Francis; and, after a violent struggle between reluctance to own, even by implication, that he had been wrong, and a desire to confess that Le yielded to conviction, he at length avowed his opinion in the very forcible language in which he ad- dressed Ella. She w as soon informed of the un- pleasant cause which had so abruptly terminated their visit to Mrs. Melville, and extremely regretted what the Ad- miral had said ; as, independent of the effect it had on Miss Melville, she ( 97 ) feared that the apprehension of Sir Francis's return won Id lead her to quit Weymouth precipitately; thus she would be deprived of the benefit she might perhaps have derived from a residence there; and the hurry and agitation of her departure, under such circumstances, might even prove fatal to her ; while, after all, Sir Francis would probably not again repair to Weymouth. Ella's first wish, now, was to console, and impart comfort to Miss Melville, and she thought if she could succeed in so doing, it would be the most effectual means of banish- ing the impression of her own disap- pointment. But how to remove the barrier which caution and reserve places between new acquaintances, or at once attain that degree of familiar intercourse, by which alone Miss Melville could derive any pleasure from her society, was difficult to de- termine. VOL. I. F ( 98 ) Mrs. Valency represented Mrs. Melville as a character ajiparently very easy of access; and Ella and her mother agreed that they would, in the course of the evening, call at Mrs. Melville's door to inquire after her daughter, when they might perhaps be admitted, and circumstances turn out so as to produce a rapid intimacy, which the lively anxiety they expe- rienced, respecting Miss Melville, ren- dered probable. In the meantime Ella completed the following letter to Sir Francis, without having blotted it with her tears, though many a pain- ful sigh heaved her breast, and the gloomy cast of disappointment shaded her features. LETTER. " To address you in the man- ner I am compelled to is truly repug- nant to my feelings, more particularly because I am aware that the tenor of ( 99 ) my letter will be so wholly unexpect- ed, as to give additional asperity to eveiy sentence. Disappointment, so unlooked for, at the very time ^\hen hope and anticipation are at their height, is in itself one of the severest punishments that can be inflicted, I candidly own, if it can be any conso- lation to you, that I participate in those sensations ; but I bless heaven they are not aggravated by the consciousness of being merited; but I could no longer make that boast, were I (in order to evade present uneasiness) volunta- rily to turn from the only path^ which with propriety I can now pursue. I will no longer keep you in suspence; but, trusting I have in a measure pre- pared you for the subsequent commu- nication, I shall enter on it without farther preface. Perhaps I need only tell you that we have formed an ac- quaintance with a Mrs. and Miss Melyille, (who arrived here the day F 2 ( 100 ) after yon left us) to excite a suspicion of all that I ^vould say ! The name of Elizabeth Melville; which I per- fectly recollected as the signature of some letters you somewhat impru- dently submitted to my inspection, instantly struck me, and the emotion she betrayed on hearing Sir Francis Heathcote mentioned, proved but too plainly she did not think of him as he deserved. I will not dwell on this delicate subject; it will be sufficient to say Miss Melville appears to me to be in a dying state. I may be mistaken ; but I know I would rather die my- self than be a party in any act that might accelerate her fate. But herein I am by no means disinterested ; for I should think I well deserved all the misery that would doubtless ensue, could I be tempted to intrust my peace to the charge of one who had proved so wholly regardless of that happiness which was dependent upon ( 101 ) him, I have not scrupled often to confess to yon, that I entertained no very favourable opinion of yon in the early stages of our acquaintance, from the character of vanity and incon- stancy, which I had heard imputed to you. But the unquestionable man- ner in which you conducted yourself, in regard to the alliance you sought with my family, induced me to disre- gard the former reports to your dis- advantage, and to conclude that the imprudence or forwardness of some of my own sex, had afforded a good excuse for the indulgence of your vanity at their expense. How differ- ently should I have considered the subject — how differently should I have acted, could I for a moment have im- agined you to be one of those sellish, unfeeling, unprincipled men, whom I liave ever held in such peculiar ab- horrence : who seek the affections of the young and inexperienced, only to F 3 ( 102 ) abuse them, and endeavour to excite the tenderest emotions of the heart, only to torture them as the sacrifice to vanity. I know not how you can soften the picture so as to contem- plate it with complacency, but I know that in my estimation, there are very few crimes of a deeper dye than that I am alluding to ; nay, that many which are punished in obedience to the laws by exile, ignominy, and even death, are productive of less evil conse- quences, a^d instigated by much more pardonable motives. My language may be strong, but I assure you it is merely expressive of my feelings. At that early age, when the softer sensations arje romantically alive, and fix with enthusiasm on an object cal- culated to excite them, and who eager- ly seeks to awaken them — hope, anti- cipation; confidence, unchecked by experience, nurses and encourages love, till it it may be said to engross ( 103 ) the whole soul. Reason, almost in a state of infancy, has gained no as- cendancy, nor offers a single check to the unbounded sway of the master passion. Then, more than at any other period of existence, does disap- pointment inflict the severest wound, and treachery sling with the sharpest acuteness. What does that man de- serve who premeditatedly engenders this misery by a series of studied ef- forts to render himself beloved ? Af- fairs of the heart, in the language of the world, are lightly treated, laughed at, and generally considered as of little consequence, and transient in their effects ; but ask the person who has arrived at old age, and who in their youth experienced a disappoint- ment in their affections, if ever, at any subsequent period, under all the va- riety of trials they may have endured in the course of a long life, they suf- fered wretchedness so severe, so uu- F 4 ( 104 ) qualified, so hopeless, as that they sustained from the abuse of their first affections ; when they had no mental strength to oppose to overwhelming misery, but rather gloried in encou- raging than combating it. *' The gay hilarity of youth, and the pleasurable sensations peculiar to their age, sunk in the tide of anguish every minutiae, which in more ad- vanced life we should scorn to recal, dwelt on to agony, till all those years in which we experience the most vi- vid, though not the most solid enjoy- ment of existence, are consumed in endless repinings, that cast a gloom on every future scene. You would talk with horror of the tyrant who could inflict tortures on the body, which are comparatively brief in their duration, and speedily terminate with life ; yet you — yes you, could impose months, and years, of protracted tor- ture, both of body and mind, pro- ( 105 ) dnctive pf a lingering death, and pro- gressive decay of nature, unable to sustain so strong a conflict. " Thank heaven, I have now attained the age when reason has the mastery ; at four and twenty we know how to struggle with our feelings, and compel them to take a right course. Had my present perplexity, nay I will admit, disappointment, fallen on me at six- teen or seventeen, the age at which I conclude Miss M — 's acquaintance with you commenced, I should have felt very differently, and perhaps sunk, like her, under my misfortune ; though certainly not to be compared in mag- nitude to her's. May heaven restore her health, and spare you the com- punction her death must inflict; she shall henceforth be my chosen friend, and if I can prevail, my frequent com- panion. After w hat I have now said, and which I devoutly hope m.ay in- fluence your future conduct In regard F 5 ( 106 ) to my sex, it is needless to repeat a resolution I solemnly affirm to be ir- revocable — we never meet again but as distant acquaintances. Do not attempt to seek me, for I will not subject myself to the distress of an interview ; your presence or expostu- lations will never alter my determina- tion ; and all I request of you is to spare me any importunity, as my sin- cere wish is never either to see or hear from you again. Do not accuse me of cruelty, or want of feeling, but let every pang you may experience on this occasion, remind you that you have inflicted far superior misery joer- Jiaps on a variety of persons, and that one you have afilicted, *' even unto deaths I have only to add, that my friends entirely approve of the step 1 have taken," Ella felt a weight removed from her mind when she had finished this letter, though still her heart was far ( 107 ) from light ; and had she yielded to the sensation that oppressed her, she would liave resigned herself to sorrow and regret. But every murmur that arose she checked by the recollection that there was in reality nothing to lament in the loss of such a man as Sir Francis Heath cote ; and could she but bring herself to consider the subject in its true light, she would only find a cause of rejoicing in the disso- lution of such a connexion. She was not sorry that Major Bur- lington was expected to dine with them, as the presence of a guest would greatly tend to dissipate the gloom that was likely to pervade the family party, under the present circumstan- ces ; and she felt herself particularly stimulated to overcome any semblance of dejection, which she believed the Major would not hesitate to lay to the charge of Sir Francis. Ella appeared at dinner with a serene ( 108 ) though not a sniilmg countenance; her mother and sister, instead of en- couraging the unhappiness, they knew she must experience, by any display of sympathy, exerted themselves to support a cheerful aspect, and thus greatly aided her in the performance of the task she had undertaken. The Admiral, too, seemed eager to con- vince the Major he could he agreeable, and was also anxious to do away the lurking disapprobation he perceived in Mrs. Valency's manner towards him. Major Burlington was habitual' ly pleasant, and he had no occasion to make any effort^ in order to conform his demeanour to the cast of the com- pany. In alluding to their kindness to him during his illness, he said that \\% was now almost inclined to quarrel with theto for making him well so soon, as he had no longer an excuse for remaining at Weymouth, which he should leave with great re- ( 109 ) gret. Mrs. Valency advised him not to think of travelling for some time ; to which he replied, he believed he should yet remain a few days, unless indeed she should banish him her house, when he doubted not he should find himself strong enough to set off immediately. The Admiral observed, they should do wisely in adopting such a measure, as they should then be less sensible of the loss they should sustain, when the Major should leave them after having been for some time longer a member of their society. This mutual politesse was produc- tive of mutual complacency, which rendered the parties every moment better pleased with each other. The ladies retired with regret, but the Admiral rejoiced when their absence gave him an opportunity of entering on a subject he was very anxious to introduce. He entertained strong ap- prehensions that the Major imagined ( no ) Sir Francis had (as the Admiral ex- pressed it) been playing the fool with one or other of his nieces. This, the old gentleman conceived, would reflect great disgrace on him, who considered himself their protector; and who, old as he was, would not liave hesitated to liave compelled any one who he thought had behaved with impropriety towards them, to an- swer for his conduct with his life. He dreaded also that the world in general woLdd be inclined to cast some reflec- tion on him, when they found that the match was broken off; and, judg- ing by Sir Francis's well known char- acter of inconstancy, impute it to his caprice : the Admiral, therefore, re- solved to make no secret of the lead- ing circumstances of the case. In re- gard to Major Burlington, he felt ra- ther called on to be unreserved, as by him the real character of Sir Fran- cis had been unveiled to them. Ho ( 111 ) opened the subject rather abruptly with an eulogy on Miss Valency ; ob- serving, that she had displayed a mag- nanimity, and self command, that had more than ever endeared her to him. He then entered into the particulars of Sir Francis's attachment to her, and dwelt on the very open and ho- norable manner in which the Baronet had explained himself; and added, that the marriage was to have taken place immediately on their return home; and yet Miss Valency, with a resoluteness which did her the high- est honour, had no sooner been aware of Sir Francis's real character, than she had at once determined to break off the connexion, and had already done so bv letter. "And what more particularly en- hances the sacrifice," continued the Admiral, "is, that my niece certainly was sincerely attached to Sir Francis ; otherwise I never should have con- ( 112 ) sented to her espousing him, and the fortitude with which she bears her disappointment is indeed truly ad- mirable." The Major was silent and thought- ful for a few minutes ; he was reflect- ing, that had he known Sir Francis was indeed serious in his addresses to Miss Valency, he should have scru- pled very much to have interfered on the subject : but he soon became sa- tisfied with what he had done, and said, *' I cannot regret that I was the means of discovering to Miss Valen- cy Sir Francis's real character; for though she has no reason to impeach his constancy, and this grand foible in his disposition might have been cured by an union with her, 1 think that in other respects he was not a man who could have made such a wo- man happy." ** I think,'' returned the Admiral, ( 113 ) " that slie is for ever indebted to you. 1 have seen enough to convince rae he is a man without feeling, honour, or principle ! I am not scrupulous about love affairs, which generally turn out to be nothing but a combination of nonsense, made up of coquetry on one side, and credulity on the other ; but, when they come to involve people's happiness, and perhaps even their livesy they deserve to be considered in a very serious light." *' I candidly own," said the Major, *' that of all -men existing, Sir Fran- cis is he whom I like least; but, as there has never been any dis- sention between us, which could fur« nish an excuse for an open rupture, I have always continued on the footing of an acquaintance with him, as I don't want to insult him. But, my brother, whose lofty, independent spi- rit, will not curb itself even to appear civil to a man he despises, never ( 114 ) troubles himself to conceal what he thinks of Sir Francis ; and is, I dare say, an object of detestation in his eyes, though Sir Francis affects to wish to be on good terms with him ; and, if their eyes chance to encounter, he has always a bow ready for him — but there is a something in Spencer that excites respect and deference, in even his greatest enemies, and every man who aspires to respectabi- lity, wishes to claim him as a friend.'* '* You are not at all foricl of this brother of yours," said the Admiral, laughing. " Spencer Burlington is the first man living in his brother's estimation, I assure you," rejoined the Major, in a tone of enthusiasm, springing from the warmth of natural affection. ( 115 ) CHAPTER VIII. What though my cheeks thy pallid hv'ry wear. And each enfeebled nerve thy power obeys! Though hourly doom'd thy cliilling grasp to bear^ I shiver in the summer's noontide blaze! Yet will I welcome thy chastising hand, Since thou hast left my mind her wonted pow'rs ; Since reason still maintains her high command, And sportive fancy gilds my lonely hours. MARIA LOGAN. W HiLE this conversation was pass- ing between the gentlemen, Mrs. Va- lency and Ella pursued the way to Mrs. Melville's lodgings. Arrived there, they sent up an inquiry after Miss Melville, when her mother came run- ning down stairs, and insisted on their ( 116 ) coming in, and expressed her grati- tude for their solicitude in regard to her daughter, who, she assured theni, was better. Poor Mrs. Melville was just in that state, in which we are most desirous of unburthening our hearts to some sympathizing ear, and when the sight of a commiserating counte- nance is most welcome. She had been secluded in her daughter's cham- ber since the morning, and employed all that time in talking over the most disagreeable subjects ; for talk she must, let her be where she would ; nor, in her habitual volubility, could she ever retain any thing long within her bosom. She was the worst person in the world to assist her daughter in the effort she had long been attempting to overcome her feelings, and in endea- vouring to get the better of that, which her maturer reason convinced her was a weakness. But her mother, bv an ( 117 ) injudicious sympathy in feeling, she thought natural in her situation, and by continually reverting to scenes which her child wishes to obliterate from her memory, renewed the remem- brance of the past, and aroused all those sensations connected with it, while she thought she was only con- curring in all her daughter's ideas on the subject. Miss Melville had very seriously entreated her on that day never again to make Sir Francis the theme of their conversation in her presence, and to this she most readily agreed ; nor was she kkely to trans- gress when once convinced it was un- pleasant to her daughter, as her whole aim was to act agreeably to her feel- ings. But scarcely were Mrs. Va- lency and Ella seated, when she ex- pressed her regret that she should not be able to extend her stay at Wey- mouth to the time she had first in- ( 118 ) tended ; indeed she believed they should depart in a few days for — for " Mrs. Melville was longing to tell, but conscious that she ought to retain what she would say, Mrs. Valency ex- pressed her regret at the probability of her departure, and added, " every body is leaving Weymouth ; I think Sir Francis Heathcote, an agreeable acquaintance of ours, went only a few day ago, and I do not think there is a probability of his returning," '' Really," cried Mrs. Melville, with quickness, " theti indeed that alters the case. Certainly I should not wish on any account to leave Weymouth if we could avoid it ; but, the truth is, my dear Madam, Sir Francis is an old suitor of my daughter, she rejected him, and since that her feelings on the subject are so delicate, that she can^ not endure the idea of meeting him, ag ( 119 ) of course it would be very mortifying to Sir Francis, and had better on all accounts be avoided." " Certainly, and perhaps Sir Fran- cis would feel uncomfortable." ** O I am sure it would be the last thing in the world he would desire," — interrupted Mrs. Melville — " if he only knew we were here I should not have the smallest apprehension of his returning:." ** Then I think you may feel per- fectly satisfied ; for I know a person who corresponds with Sir Francis, and who has already informed him that you are here." Oh dear ! I am very glad indeed ; quite delighted ; and Elizabeth, and dear good Mr. Grantly, will be so glad that we may stay here in comfort." Mrs. Valency having now said all that she wished in regard to Sir Francis, and who did not like to en- courage the loquacious lady to dis- ( 120 ) course on what she might perhaps af- terwards regret having mentioned, rose to depart ; but Mrs. Melville en- treated her to remain, till she told her daughter they were there, adding that she was sure the intelligence she had to communicate to her would make her a great deal better; but the thoughts of hurrying off again directly had quite overset her. Ella seemed inclined to stay, and Mrs. Valency yielded to the good la- dy's vociferous entreaties, and thougli not many minutes elapsed before she re-appeared, she contrived in that time to repeat to her daughter, every thing that Mrs. Valency had said. It was a source of real consolation to Eliza- beth, who now resolved to lose no op- portunity of combating with her feel- ings, and Ella was both surprised and pleased to see her enter the room. Miss Valency only followed the dic- tates of her heart, in making herself ( 121 ) fasciiiating in the eyes of Elizabeth, \vho was quite charmed with her, and thought she had never seen a person whom she could so readily admit to her confidence. She blamed herself for the unfavourable opinion she had been inclined to form of Miss Valency the first time she had seen her, and perhaps there never was a more rapic^ advance made towards a future inti- macy in one visit, than on ihi^- occa* sion, Ella felt much less unhappy after she had seen 'Miss Melville ; for she was persuaded that she was not so much reduced in strength as her looks denoted^ and she judged rightly. Con- stant anxiety, and the frequent return of indisposition, had blanched Eliza- beth's complexion, and robbed her form of the plumpness of youth; but her constitution still resisted the re- peated attacks that had been made on it, and having once surmounted the s.e- VOL. I, o ( 122 ) vere trial she had sustained in resolv- ing to resign Sir Francis, she had gra- dually regained strength. Hope was extinguished, suspense terminated, and she had nothing to do but calmly endure ; and that she trusted only for a time ; for reason having once gained the ascendancy, she found her unhap- piness decrease at every effort she made to overcome it. She had readily agreed to her mother's proposal of re- pairing to Weymouth, and the change of air and scene had the happiest effect on her spirits, and she was just regain- ing the power of enjoyment, when the unfortunate mention of Sir Francis, and the report that he was about to return to Weymouth, struck a chill through all her veins, and sl.e vainly attempted to recover the shock, and conceal her dismay. Yet she might not have been so wholly unsuccessful had it not been for her mother's af- frighted aspect, which she was certain ( 123 ) must be apparent to all present, and that idea completed her distress. Her mother had no sooner been alone with her, than she had proposed quitting Weymoutli directly. Elizabeth felt that she had not yet attained that state of mind in regard to Sir Francis, which would permit her to expose herself to the chance of meeting him ; she said she would reflect on what was best to be done, and for some hours all her unhappiness returned, as she thought that this unworthy man was doomed, like an evil spirit, to cross her path continually, and interrupt all her plans of comfort. But her second interview with the Valency fann'ly convinced her she had been causelessly alarmed, as she felt certain the Baronet would not run the risk of meeting her, for she was not aware of any extraordinary cause that might tempt him to return to Weymouth. She now again resigned herself to G 2 ( 124 ) the anticipation of peace, and ventured to hope her acquaintance with Mrs. Valency's family might be productive of pleasure. Of that she was the more assured, when they, the next day, called for her in the carriage to take her an airing ; and the whole time she was out with them, they exerted them- selves to entertain her, not only by their lively conversation, but by taking her from place to place, to shew her every thing calculated to amuse her. They v, ere amply rewarded by per- ceiving a faint tinge on her cheek, and a smile of complacency playing round her moutli. She, and her mother, tvere invited to spend the ensuing day at Mrs. Valency's, and the Admiral, having called on Mr.' Grantly, re- quested him to meet them. Major Burlington and the two Irby's were also to be of the party. ( 125 ) CHAPTER IX. " More, more !" the glutton cries for something new — So rages appetite ; if man can't mount. He will descend. YOUNG. JLiLLA derived all the consolation she expected from an intimacy with Miss Melville, and when an mi easy sensa- tion arose in her breast she would think of the sufferings of Elizabeth, and her own would appear trifling by comparison. And while reflecting on how she had acted, self-complacency soon gained the ascendancy over every other feeling, and inclined her to con- tentment. G 3 ( 126 ) The return of the post brought not any answer from Sir Francis, and she flattered herself he would obey her in- junction, and that she should hear of him no more ; and, assured that the severity of her trial was over, she pre- pared for the dinner party on that day in tolerable spirits. When they were assembled in the drawing room before dinner, Jonathan Irby, after staring with a vacant grin for some time at Miss Melville, came up to Honoria, who was seated at a distance from her, and said, in rather a lower tone than he generally spoke in, '' Where in the world did you pick up that unfortunate piece of skin and grief." This witty allusion to Miss Mel- ville was followed by a loud laugh from the profound speaker, to whom Honoria did not vouchsafe an answer. His brother, who was sitting next to her, did not notice Jonathan's speech ; ( 127 ) but, casting a pensive glance on Miss Mehille, he repeated as if to himself, " Gone was her summer rose, by grief consum'd But yet remaiu'd to point where once itbloom'd i Some remnant by the venj^eful spoiler left. Who robb'#, as if repentant of the theft." '* Te duin, te dmn, te dy, te dum te dum," cried Jonatlian, provoked at the approving glance he saw Honoria cast on his brother, *' William, I say, *'he continued, " You certainly were intended for a stage player ! that poor lackadazical Miss, that looks as if she had been fined down to run a race, would make a nice tragedy queen for you." '* Fray, Mr. Irby," said Honoria, choose some fitter subject to exercise your wit upon, and don't prove your- self as unfeeling as ridiculous." " Well done. Miss Honoria ! ' cried Jonathan, rudely clapping his hands. " At it again ! that was ^vell spoken. back her up Mr. Stage-player ; at it G 4 ( 128 ) a£ira"iii, I sav." He finished this eleo;ant speech by hissing, as if he had been setting on two dogs to fight ; but he was suddenly silenced ^by perceiving Major Burlington close to him, re- garding him with fixed attention and amazement. Jonathan affected to laugh, but looked more silly than usual; and still more so when the Major said, with a look of mock reverence, *' Pray go on, Sir, I am all anxiety to profit by your eloquence." *' Jonathan turned off with a very sheepish look, as his brother, affecting an air of abstraction, repeated — " Hiding his quiver in a flowery coil. Demure, with lip just curTed, and flashing eye Wrapped in a cloak the vulgar guess to foil. Behold the subtile archer Irony."* Major Burlington bowed as if tak- ing this to himself ; and smiling good humouredly, said — " No less apposite to the occasion than elegantly express- * M. F. Johnson, ( 129 ) ed ! may I askif thelinesareyourown?" — '* O no, indeed ! I wish they were," returned William, '* I sometimes poe- tize from morning to night, and from night till morning, when I am roman- tically inclined : but I rarely produce any thing worthy of being sported off on an apt occasion ; so, without the least scruple, I appropriate the wit and genius of others to my own pur- poses." Nothing very particular occurred during dinner, unless indeed the enor- mous quantity of food Jonathan de- voured, deserves, like other pheno- mena, to be recorded. He was both a gourmand and an epicure, and as fastiduous about the quality of what he ate, as intemperate in the quantity. He thought it essential to the cha- racter he wished to support, to affect some knowledge in the culinary art, as he had heard several young men dis- play their oratory on that most ani- G 5 ( 130 ) mating theme, and prove themselves com oisseurs; and so anxious ^va Jo- nathan to emulate their bright exam- ple, that he had often been heard to boast, that the cookery book was the only one he ever opened. However delicately his food was prepared, he was sure to find out that it wanted a something', no matter at whose table he was feasting ; he would lament very pathetically the absence of the one thing wanting. The stewed carp on this occasion, though rendered lusci- ous by a profusion of all the customary ingredients to tempt the palate, he de- clared was quite a different thing with a little of the saicce epicurienne added to it ; and the sauce epicurienne was reverted to, every time he sent his plate to be replenished w^ith the carp, which three times answered his demands upon it ; when he attacked a sirloin of beef, and heaped his plate with pickles, horseradish, mustard, and ( 131 ) celeiy, but observed it was good for nothing without wahiut pickle. When the ladies retired, Mrs. Mel- yille begged to be informed, who that gentleman was, that had such a won- derful appetite. Mrs. Valency satis- fied her on that head, and added, ^* Mrs. Irby is our nearest neighbour in the country, and we have always been on very friendly terms. Her youngest son is a very pleasing young man, and her daughter tolerably ac- complished ; and, for their sakes, we must sometimes support the society of Mr. Irby, who is a description of per- son I never desire to see in my house; for he prides himselfon being vulgar, and I never yet found him entertaining; but I dare say he has a very good heart." " Oh ! of course we must give him credit for that," said Honoria ; " but really I have not goodnature enough to tolerate his company. ( 132 ) " Fortunately we have not much of it," said Ella; *' for when he grows quite insujfferable, my uncle gives him a severe reprimand, which silences him at once, and he sometimes stays away for a month together." *' y es, but he is sure to come again without standing on the ceremony of waiting for an invitation. It is no easy task to get rid of the acquaintance of such a man : I wish he would take a lesson from the mild gentlemanlike manner of Major Burlington." Honoria had brought the Major on the tapis, and all seemed ready to join in his praise ; but Mrs. and Miss Mel- ville agreed that he was not near so handsome as his brother. " But,' continued Mrs. Melville, ''he has no pride about him, nothing of the coxcomb ; and we cannot say as much for Mr. Spencer Burlington." '' Why I don't know," said her daughter ; "we have seen very little of ( 133 ) him since he was a youth ; for some years he has rarely visited iis : for, though his estate hes in our neighbour- hood, he has not been much at it." " And when he is there," rejoined Mrs. Melville, " he does not trouble us with much of his company ; and you know we have heard enough of the airs he gives himself." " Yes, but Mr. Grantly will not al- low that charge to be just ; though indeed I should not w^onder at Mr. Burlington being vain or conceited ; for there is such a fuss made about him by all the ladies in the county." Ella was not at a loss to guess from w honi Mrs. Melville had heard the re- port to Mr. Burlington's disadvantage, and she concluded that gentleman had declined visiting at Mrs. Melville's, from his averseness to meeting Sir Francis. On Mrs. Melville's mention- ing the tow n where she resided, it ap- peared that itw^as not more than thirty ( 134 ) miles from the abode of Mrs. Va- lency. When the gentlemen rejonied the party, Honoria got as far as she could from her aversion, Jonathan ; but he, aware of her design, contrived to get round behind her; and, leaning on the back of her chair, continued jogging it on. purpose. She moved close to the edge, when he cried out, *' I am not going to bite you, you need not wince so; come," he conti- nued, leaning quite over the chair, and lowering his tone, " come, now don't be so cruel." Honoria instantly arose, and joined her sister and Miss Melville, who were standing near the window ; but her persecutor, whose only view was to torment her, immediately followed, and asked her to lend him a smelling bot- tle, for that the heat of the room made him quite sick. Honoria did not com- ply with his request, but advised him, ( 135 ) by all means, to leave the room; ad- din^:, " you had better go home, and retire to rest : I dare say you will be very well to-morrow." " No, I thank you, I am not so ea- sily got rid of," he returned, with a grin ; but she now contrived to ^et behind her sister, and was in a mea- sure defended from his attack, though he still continued importuning her for the smelling bottle, which she reso- lutely refused, knowing he only want- ed to keep it on purpose to plague her, and she privately slid it into the hands of Mi^s Melville, that she might with truth aver she had it not ; but as even this assurance could not silence the drawling repetition of, " well give me the scent bottle then I say ;" she no longer replied to him. Tea over, the Admiral, Mrs. Mel- ville, Mrs. Valency, and Mr. Grantly, formed a whist party: Major Bur- lington and William Irby were anx- ( 136 ) ious for music, and the young ladies were very ready to gratify them ; but Jonathan called out for around game, adding, *' Hang it, I see no fun in tweed le dum and tweedle dee for a whole evening." *' Well, then," said Miss Valency, " suppose we have a little music first, and then a round game." ** Very well," said Jonathan, and continued to Honoria, who was tu- ning her harp ; " but pray let us have something better than hvang twaiigr The harmony commenced, but Jo- nathan talked so loud, close to the performers, that nothing could be dis- tinctly heard but his nonsense. The gentlemen entreated silence in vain, when Jonathan's eyes accidentally fell on the smelling bottle, which Miss Melville had heedlessly laid down on the piano. He made a dart at it grasp- ed it with his lan»e paw, and bore it off in triumph, hoidingitup above his ( 137 ) head, and attempting; to caper, while liis large boney form offered an apt comparison to a cart horse endea- vouring to be frisky. His cry of " I've got it, I've got it, IVe got it,'' was too boisterous to permit the music to pro- ceed, and even startled the whist players, who were in a drawing room adjoining, the folding doors between beeing open. Honoria said not a word when she saw her property in the hands of Jonathan, as she knew it would only accelerate its fate; nor was she the least suprised, when, having got on the hearth, he let fall the bottle, and broke it to atoms on the marble. " Lud have mercy upon us ; I de- clare I have smashed it all to pieces," he cried out, affecting a sorrowful look. Major Burlington could not resist ex- claiming, " This is really a shame ;" while William in an angry voice, said, '' Are you mad, Jonathan ; I wish ( 138 ) from my soul you were a thousand miles off." " I dare say you do, my buck ! then you think you would have a better chance — hey Mr. Stageplayer." Honoria made no comments what- ever on the pretended accident; but, rising, said to her sister, " We had better attempt cards, for harmony seems quite out of the question." They now sat dovrn to a round game, and Major Burlington and William exerted themselves to promote hilari- ty, in order to do away the impression of Jonathan's conduct. He was now rather less troublesome, as his extreme anxiety, respecting the game, made him silent on every other subject, and his declamation was chiefly confined to soliloquies concerning the odds in fa- vour or against such or such a card. ( 139 ) CHAPTER X. Thou art no more my bosom friend. Here must the sweet dehision end. Mrs. Robinson, jLhey had not been long seated, when a footman entered the room, and in alow voice informed Miss Valency, a person below wished to speak to her. She immediately arose, and had reached the door before it struck her that there was any thing extrordinary in this circumstance ; when she sud- denly thought of Sir Francis, and instantly stopped, and the alarmed glance she cast on Miss Melville, who was placidly attending to the game, ( 140 ) denoted her feelings. Honoria quick- ly defined them; for she had heard what the man had said, and was seized with apprehensions similar to her sister's. She followed her out of the room, and proposed questioning* the servant; but he had ran down stairs, and Ella feared to pursue him, lest she should encounter him she most dreaded to behold. " I will go," said Honoria, ** return to the drawing room, and don't let them suspect any thing is the matter. Good Heavens! if Miss Melville had the least idea of " "01 tremble to think of it," cried Ella. " Don't be so alarmed : be assured he will not attempt to come up, even should it indeed be him — pray endea- vour to compose yourself; I dare say our fears are groundless." Honoria descended the stairs as her sister re-entered the drawing ( 141 ) room. The parlour door stood open, and certainly Honoria was not sur- prised, though much tistressed, at be- holding Sir Francis Ileathcote. He was pacing the apartment in great agitation ; as she entered, he turned round precipitately, and was evidently disappointed on finding it was not Ella. In a voice of ill-suppressed re- sentment he said — " I requested to ^peak to your sister." " She is engaged at present," said Honoria, with some hesitation ; for she felt it was not her business to address Sir Francis in peremptory language, or take upon her to say all that her sister might with propriety have ex- pressed on the occasion. '^ O, surely," resumed the Baronet, in a supplicating tone; ''you are not to- tally devoid of compassion; youc^mnoi behold my wretchedness with indif- ference? You will not refuse to inter- icede with your sister in my behalf! I 1 ( 142 ) must and will see her ; for not another night will I endure the torments her injustice, her barbarity, has inflicted on me — she cannot refuse to listen to my defence ; go, Honoria, bid her de- scend !" Honoria shook her head. " Nay," continued he, indignation flashing from his eyes as he, ap- proached the door, " then I will force myself into her presence ! I care not who sees my misery — I will compel her to do me justice."' Honoria, greatly alanned, laid her hand on his arm, and arrested his pro- gress. *' Stop, stop," she cried, in terrified accents ; *' pray recollect your- self ! You know not who is above — we have company ; and — and, — stay here but a few moments, and I will try what is to be done." Sir Francis knew perfectly Avell ivho was above; for he had inquired of the servant, and had ascertained that ( 143 ) Mrs. and Miss Melville were of the party. He now trusted that the dread of his appearing before them, would induce Miss Valency to grant him an interview, which he had hoped to have surprised her into, by cautioning the servant not to tell who it was that requested to see her; and the man, sus- pecting the terms the Baronet was on, or rather had been on, in the family, concluded that an agreeable surprise was in store for his young lady. Sir Francis's desiirn of terrifying Honoria, O I/O ' by denoting an intention of ascending to the drawing room, appeared to have .succeeded, and he inferred from what she said, that she would prevail on her sister to descend ; he therefore suffer- ed her to leave him ; but the farthest thing from Honoria's thoughts was to persuade her sister to expose herself to so unpleasant a scene. She was perfectly aware of the step most pro- per to be taken on the occasion, and ( 144 ) passing through the outer drawing room, she gave Ella a cheering glance, and repaired to where her uncle was engaged at the whist table. He w^as unfortunately in the act of dealing, and she dared not address him while he was distributing the cards, as she knew it would only put him in a pas- sion, and he would not attend to a word she said ; but the moment he had done, she whispered in his ear, that a gentleman was below who would not retire unless he spoke to him. '* She dared not mention his name, as, the Admiral being a little deaf, it re- quired her to speak in a key that might have been audible to his neighbour, Avho was Mrs. Melville ; but Honoria thought he would guess who it was she alluded to ; but he was deliberately sorting his cards, w hich seemed to en- gross his whole attention, and after twice repeating her w ords, she could ^et no other reply than *' Don't child, ( 145 ) don't whisper in my ear so, you tickle me." Again Honoria ventured to repeat what she had said in rather a higher tone. The Admiral was just playing to the first trick, and with his eyes still fixed on the cards, he said, *' If all the kings of the earth were waiting for me I would not stir till this game is de- cided ;" they were eight to nine. Ho- noria was distressed beyond measure, and in the most painful anxiety she watched the playing of every card, and many were withheld a tedious time ere the cautious player would venture to throw them out. But Mrs. Valency was not one of those : she saw by Ho- noria's countenance that something extraordinary was the matter, and not another thought could she give to the game. She trumpped her partners best card, led to the adversary's re- nounce, and ended by revoking. The VOL. I. H ( 146 ) Admiral was in a downright rage, and wilh the utmost difficulty confined his language within the bounds of poHte- ness, during a lengthened animadvert sion on all the errors Mrs. Valency had committed. Poor Honoria was almost in a fever of impatience; it was totally useless to address the Admiral at that moment ; she couid not remain in the same spot ; and walked back to the other room^ and kept hovering about the door, ex- citing the utmost alarm in Ella, who perceived the watchfulness of her looks, and could no longer doubt that Sir Francis was in the house. A man's foot was heard on the stairs— Honoria gasped for breath; but, laying her hand on the lock of the door, she contrived to bolt it, while she pre- tended to be endeavouring to open it. Some one from without attempted to enter. ( 147 ) *' Who is it ?" cried Honoria : " something is the matter with the latch, I cannot open it." '' It is only I, ma'am," returned the voice of the footman, " here is a note for you." Major Burlington and William had both jumped up to assist Honoria, but she now opened the door herself, and took in the note. It was merely a piece of paper folded together, con- taining these words *' Honoria, I will follow you^ instantly, if your sister does not descend." Honoria again applied her trembling hands to the lock, and affected to be endeavouring to ascertain what was the matter with it, and quickly rebolting it, hurried back to her uncle; and, with increased dismay, perceived that the game was further than before from a termination, as the forfeiture of three tricks had re- duced the probability of the AdmiraFs winning, and Mrs. Valency had just H 2 (148 ) misdealt. Honoria seized the moment, and intreated her uncle to look at that paper, as she presented the lines Sir Francis had sent up, which from his knowledge of the hand were sufficient to enlighten the Admiral at once on the subject. "What nonsense," he cried; ** I have not got my glasses, how can you bring me any thing to read at such a moment — see, ma'am," he continued to Mrs. Melville, " you have very near lost your deal also ; you have given, two cards here — ah ! an honour." Honoria stood all this time abso- lutely trembling; when, to her infinite relief, Mrs. Melville and her partner shewed honours, and the game was de;- cided ; but the Admiral was going to talk it over, if Mrs. Valency, as she droppedher cards, liad not said " Pray Sir, attend to Honoria, she has some- thing pjarticular to say to you." *' Well, child," he said, as he rose, ( 149 ) and suflered her to draw him aside. " What have you been pkiguing me about all this time ? I really believe you made us lose the game." ** O Sir, I am terrified to death. •Sir Francis is below, and threatens to come up." Three monstrous strides brought the Admiral to the door, and three se- conds beheld him in the presence of Sir Francis, who was a little con- founded at the gigantic form, and dis- torted countenance, that presented it- self, so complete a contrast to the figure he had expected to behold. The Ad- miral attempted several times to speak, ere he could succeed, for the violent workings of the muscles of his face seemed to affect his speech. Sir Fran- cis seized the opportunity to begin first, and said with great emotion — *' I come here Admiral Valency to demand justice. I request only to be heard, and without reference to the H 3 ( 15Q ) friendship you once did me the honour to profess for me, or the footing I was received on in this family, I consider myself entitled to be heard in my own defence, and in her presence, who has accused me, refute the vile calumnies that have been propagated to my dis- honour." Sir Francis — Sir — Sir — Sir Francis, allow me, allow me to speak ! I have nothing — we have nothing — we none of us have any thing, to accuse you of in regard to your conduct towards Miss Valency. — No, towards my neice you have ever behaved with the strict- est propriety. Had it been otherwise, I should have been to blame Sir Fran- cis ; not that I mean to take any credit to myself on this occasion ! the open and honourable manner in which you preferred your addresses to Miss Va- lency, required no interference on my part." "You acknowledge that, Sir, and ( 151 ) yet you permit me to be treated in this inhuman — this *' Allow me, allow me, Sir Francis, to finish what I was about to say ; — be so good as not to interrupt me — it is my \vish to do you justice in every respect ; it was not by my desire that my niece first resolved on the step she has taken ; — but she brought forward such arguments in support of its pro- priety, a* I conceived to be unanswer- able. I do not wish to enter upon the subject, nor indeed to interfere at all. Miss Valency is the best judge of what she thinks likely to contribute to her happiness, I shall not endeavour to influence her in any way ; all that will remain for me to do, will be to shield her from every species of persecution. I am anxious to behave with all possi- ble civility towards you, Sir Francis, and shall always be ready to acknow- ledge that you conducted yourself to- wards me and mine, as a man of ho- H 4 ( 152 ) Dour, and I dare say, you will never compel me to retract my words." " 1 have heard all you would say, Sir ; now permit me simply to state all that I request. Let Miss Valency hear my defence from my own lips ! let her allow me to explain what has been so grossly misrepresented. — Let me, as I swear to do, contradict every accusation contained in that horrible letter, which, with such studied bar- barity, she addressed to me ; and then let her, if she chooses, banish me for ever; I will no longer dispute her will; but until I hear my sentence from her own lips, I will not cease persecuting her, and seeking the opportunity de- nied me. O, Admiral Valency! is my demand unreasonable ? the basest crifninal is not condemned unheard ! am I to be treated worse than the vi- lest upon earth ? You feel for me ; you cannot deny that I have been treated with unparallelied rigour ; if you have ( 153 ) ever loved, fancy what I must have en- dured when, in the zenith of confident hope, nay of assured felicity, L perused the wretched scrawl that proved that the woman I weakly fancied loved me tenderly, could voluntarily resign me, and without hesitation doom me to mi- sery." Sir Francis concealed his face in his handkerchief. The Admiral felt pain- fully affected. The greatest affiictioii he had ever endured was brought full upon his mind, and he keenly partici- pated in the Baronet's feelings, and thought he had reason to complain. After a pause of some moments, the Admiral said he must allow there was some justice in what he had advanced. Sir Francis perceived that he was softened, and he redoubled his impor- tunities to induce him to promise Miss Valency should receive him the next morning, and at length declared no- thing but force should compel him to U 5 ( 154 ) leave the house till he had received that assurance and the Admiral, who dreaded every moment that some acci- dent might discover to Miss Melville that Sir Francis was in the house, gave his word that Miss Valency should give the Baronet a patient hear- ing the ensuing day; but on condi- tions that he should never again intrude himself into her presence without her permission. Honoria waited on the top of the stairs to ascertain the moment of Sir Francis's departure, which she soon contrived to make known to her sister. How irksome to Ella Avas the period for which she was still compelled to suppport society ! indeed, each mem- ber of the family was glad when the party broke up. ( 155 ) CHAPTER XI. To the disgrace of men, it is seen that there are women both more wise to judge what evil is expected, and mor^ constant to bear it when it bath happened* ' Sir Philip Sidney. Jlhey were no sooner alone than the Admiral entered into the particu- lars of his interview with Sir Francis ; and greatly indeed was Elladistn ssed, when she found that her uncle had pledged himself for her appearance the next day ; but it was useless to comment on the subject, he brought forward forcible arguments in sup- port of what he had done ; and, as it could not now be retracted, Ella ap^ ( 156 ) peared to admit them. She passed the night in the most painful state of mind ; for, though her resolution did not faulter, to maintain it against the vehement attack she knew it must sustain, would be a most severe trial. She requested her mother to be pre- sent on the occasion, that a check might be laid on the violence of Sir Francis's feelings, which, in a tete-a- tete, he would have taken no pains to suppress. As soon as breakfast was over, the Admiral sat off on a long walk with Honoria; for the'y were both anx- ious to be out of the way, and to avoid the sight of Sir Francis, in a state of mind they could not but com- passionate. Ella sat awaiting the arrival of the Baronet with sensations, resembling those of a patient, in momentary ex- pection of the surgeon who is to per- form some painful operation: she ( 157 ) , carried the coinparison still further ; for the expected rap at the door no sooner saluted her ears, than an op- pressive sickness came over her; but, struggling with it, she took a glass of water from the side-board, and when Sir Francis entered, she betrayed no very violent symptoms of emotion. His face was flushed to a crimson hue, and his aspect was that of resentment for unmerited injury. He only bowed as he came in, and took the seat the footman placed for him, without ut- tering a word. A most awkward si- lence of some moments ensued, which Sir Francis was apparently anxious to break, but too much agitated to speak. Mrs. Valency continued netting with great perseverance, and Ella was summoning up courage to deliver the speech she had previously framed in her own mind, and was about to at- tempt uttering it, when he at length accosted her with studied formality. ( 158 ) ** I thought, ma'am, I was to be permit- ted a pritmt e diudience" Ella was prepared for this reproach, and replied, *• You may consider this as such. I have no secrets from my mother, and it is at my request she is so kind as to remain present, durin^^ this un- pleasant scene — a scene which nothing but the promise my uncle so im- prudently gave would have induced me to admit." *' Go on, ma'am," said Sir Francis, when she paused, " go on 1 beg ! this high tone, this unfeeling manner, is exactly what I might have been led to expect from the tenor of that pre- cious epistle you so tenderly «iddress- ed to me." " This tone of irony, Sir Francis, is ill adapted to the present occasion, and wholly unprovoked on my part; I neither intended to assume a high tone,, nor unfeehng maimer towards you^ but ( 159 ) merely to convince you that the reso- lution, the grounds of which I explain- ed to you in my letter, is unalterable, and that therefore any kind of inter- course between us, can only be pro- ductive of mutual distress." " Mutual distress ! ' echoed he, his voice changing from the vehemence of anger to the pathos of anguish. " Mutual distress ! no, whatever / may endure, you will not suffer." As he spoke he approached her ; and, stand- ing before her, w ith his back to Mrs. Valency, he fixed on her a gaze of un- utterable tenderness, and passionately exclaimed, " Ella I has my conduct towards you merited such a return?" " No," she replied, in faultering ac- cents, as she cast her eyes to the ground ; " 1 have nothing to reproach you with on my ow n account, but I am not so selfish as to indulge a re- gard for you, merely because you h?,ve distinguished me, when I know ( 160 ) that your conduct towards others has been such, as I cannot but deem un- pardonable." " Whoever has represented it in that light has been guilty of the most flagrant falsehood ! Tell me who has dared to asperse my character, or to assert that I ever acted otherwise in regard to Miss Melville, or any other lady, who has done me the honour to to prefer me, than with the strictest propriety ; — tell me who the meddling villain is who informed you that I Meiv Miss Melville." *' I can readily satisfy you on that head, Sir Francis — it was yoiiiseJfr ** 31er cried the Baronet, in amaze- ment, forgetting at that moment what she alluded to. " Yes t/ou, Sir Francis : you shewed me the unquestionable evidence of your knowledge of Miss Melville, and the light in which she considered you> under her own hand writing, signed ( 161 ) with her name ; and, with duplicity, you may now blush to recollect, as- sured me that she was no mover Sir Francis looked quite confound- ed, and inwardly execrated his own vanity ; but soon recovering himself, he said, ** You ought to be the last person to reproach me for a subterfuge, my affection for you induced me to adopt. I was then weak enough to fancy myself beloved with romantic tendei;- ness, and dreaded to excite uneasi- ness in confessing that there was ano- ther woman in existence, for whom I had once felt a preference." Ella caught at this avowal to sub- stantiate her charge against him, and immediately said, *' You have now, by your own confession, proved the just- ice of my chief accusation ! you ac- knowledge you once felt a preference for Miss Melville. ' ** I do ; but she cannot with justice ( 162 ) prefer a single complaint against me. I offered her marriage repeatedly ; her state of health would not permit her to accept my proposals, and she at length voluntarily dissolved all con- nexion with me, without even deigning to enter into any particular explana- tion of her reasons for so doing. And am I to be made answerable for her caprice, and be accused of cruelty and inhumanity, because she chose to be whimsical, or because nature gave her a poor constitution, and a queru- lous, complaining disposition? No- thing can be more absurd or unreason- able than your making a plea of my conduct towards her (which has been in every respect strictly honourable) for suddenly withdrawing from the most sacred engagement, which was all but indissoluble ; nay, which could not be dissolved, with honour, by either party." ** Pardon me, Sir Francis, I think ( 163 ) it could never be too late to withdraw, even ivith honour from an engagement of this nature, were you to discover that you had been deceived in the opinion of the person you were about to have intrusted with your happiness. The dishonour would rest with him who had practised the imposition." " You do not mean to apply that to the present case I presume ?" *' Not exactly ; you probably con- sider those faults as venial, which I look upon as unpardonable." ** If you f^onsider a general atten- tion to your sex, and an anxiety to please, as unpardonable, I plead guilty at once." " No, no, ^ general diitewiiow I should never condemn you for; but 2i particu' lar attention to one individual, when a man is solemnly engaged to another, I must ever reprobate." " Why, surely you cannot accuse me of casting a single glance towards ( 164 ) another, while you did me the honour to admit my assiduities ? ** You perfectly understand what I mean. My intimacy with you has been very brief; but long before I knew you more than by report, I heard more than 07ie female named as the object of your 7;ar^^cw/ar admira- tion, at a time when your hand could not have been at your own disposal. But this is merely going over what I said in my letter. I therein explain- ed to you my sentiments on the sub- ject, and I see no reason whatever to alter my opinion, or the resolution formed upon it, and you must excuse me if I am anxious to terminate an interview which cannot answer any purpose." When Ella made a movement to leave him. Sir Francis betrayed the most passionate emotion : he reproach- ed her in the bitterest terms for the cool indifference of her manner, ac ( 165 ) cused her having affected a regard for him she had never felt, and then again affirmed it his full persuasion, that her inconstant, tickle nature, had occa- sioned her to withdraw her love from him, and bestow it on some new ob- ject more recently known to her. " I am not at a loss," he continued, in almost breathless rage, " I am not at a loss to conceive who the canting, whining, hypocrite is, who has d^red to asperse my character, and wormed himself into your good graces." '' Ella was terrified ; but anxious to cenceal her feelings, she said with ap- parent indifference — *' Your words do not affect me; because, whatever you may say, I am sure your heart does not harbour so injurious a suspicion of me." Sir Francis thought she was soft* ened, and this instantly changed the current of his ideas ; and, regardless of Mrs. Valency's presence, he plead- 4 ( 166 ) ed his cause with the most ardent impetuosity and tender expostulation. Ella felt that this was the severest moment of trial ; for she conld not listen unmoved to the impassioned language of a man she had once thought of as her future husband, and who appeared so devoted to her. The tears swam in Mrs. Valency's eyes ; but she hastily brushed them away, lest her daughter should per- ceive them, and be so much softened as to act in opposition to her better judgment. But Ella combated Sir Francis's arguments with firmness, though not with severity ; but, in or- der to enable her to do so, she was obliged continually to recal the re- collection, that Sir Frcncis had re- peatedly inflicted on others all the wretchedness he was at that moment enduring, and she was only avenging the cause of her sex. ( 167 ) Every attempt she made to quit him he opposed in the most violent manner, till at length Mrs. Valency interfered (which she had not done by a single w^ord before) and begged he would not compel her daughter to prolong an interview so distressing to all parties. Without attending to her, he paced the room in a delirium of agitation, uttering incoherent rav- ings, but always keeping near the door to obstruct Ella's approach to it. Mrs. Valency followed, and im- pressively laid her hand on Sir Fran- cis's arm to arrest his attention, hav- ing previously made a sign to her daughter to quit the room through a viranda, by which she could gain another apartment. This Ella did with precipitation, ere Sir Francis was aware of her design. It was in vain Mrs. Valency attempted to ap- pease the storm that followed ; and, after behaving like a madman, Sir ( 168 ) Francis rushed from the house in a paroxysm of rage and disappoint- ment. He had not lost a moment, after the receipt of Ella's letter, in hastening to Weymouth, for he flattered himself that however she might boast of the firmness of her resolution, it would not long withstand the force of his presence, his importunities, and sup- plications ; and that she would lend a willing ear to an explanation he could easily make appfear plausible. Though in hopes of provoking her to asseverate her regard for him, he had accused her of inconstancy, and hint- ed at Major Burlington as his rival, he had too high an opinion of himself really to harbour a suspicion of the kind. He believed that the Major had informed her of some particulars relative to Miss Melville ; but as he w^as conscious he had asserted nothing but the truth, he did not feel inclined ( 169 ) to call him to an account for it by risk- ing his own life. But the chief part of her information he doubted not Ella had obtained from Mrs. Melville; who, he knew might easily be led to betray all the secrets of her family to any one who artfully questioned her. Sir Francis really loved Ella better than any woman he had ever known before, and his future happiness seem- ed dependent on her being his wife ; and where he had only the inclination of the lady to consult, Sir Francis never apprehended a disappointment. To find a woman who was able to withstand all his allurements merel)'" on a principle of rectitude, 'and by opposing her judgment to her love, was as mortifying to his vanity as af- flicting to his heart. The violence of his resentment at first kept up his spirits, and he left Weymouth directly after his interview with Ella, mentally VOL. I. 1 ( 170 ) vowing vengeance against the whole sex, and deriving his only consolation from the remembrance of those whose happiness he had sacrificed to his vanity. ( 171 ) CHAPTER XII, O liome I dear home ! what magic's in thy name. What social comfort dost thou not contain ; What joy to witness at our iire side. The smiHng faces of the friends we've tried : Friends who participate in all we feel. Who aid our pleasures, and our sorrows heal. E.P. XT was some days before Ella could recover the effects of the struggle she had undergone, or assume an appear- ance of cheerfulness ; during that time Major Burlington had left Weymouth. The period was fast approaching, which Mrs. Valency had fixed on for her return home, and the lively regret Miss Melville expressed on hearing T 2 ( 172 ) this mentioned, and the influence it had on her spirits, suggested the idea of inviting her to stay some time with them. The proposal was according- ly urged with much warmth and sincerity, and agreed to with evident pleasure; and Miss Melville quitted Weymouth with Mrs. Valency's fa- mily, w hile her mother and i\fr. Grant- ly also proceeded homeward. The Admiral was going to spend a month at the seat of a friend of his, and the Irby's were not to leave Weymouth for some time. Honoria, as they were driving out of the town, ejaculated w4th great fervour " Thank goodness ! 1 shall not see Jonathan Irby again for some time." The journey proved extremely agreeable to Miss Melville, as the most tender attention was paid her, nor could she feel otherwise than con- tent and cheerful, in the society of three amiable women, who each seem- ( 173 ) ed striving to make her forget every latent canse of uneasiness. To the rest of the party the journey was certainly not quite as cheerful as it would have been, had they been re- turning home to celebrate Ella's nup- tials, nor could she herself fail to re- collect how differently she had expect- ed to perform that journey. But she contemplated the reviving colour on Elizabeth's cheeks, and met the serene and grateful smile that sought an an- sweringglance ; and, suppressing every murmur, exulted in the sacriiice she had made. Early on the second day, a joyous outcry announced the first glimpse of the sheltered abode, scarcely discern- ible for the vine and ivy that covered the back, and rose even to the chim- nies, while the front displayed ia trellis colonnade embowered in the pyro- cantha, phillyrea, and passion-flower, which were trained over it ; the latter I 3 I 174 ) in full bloom. Through the archer you coiild perceive the long French windows opening to the viranda, from which you descended to a sloping lawn, bordered by plantations of myr- tle, arbutus, and other evergreens, that presented lasting verdure. Through these a path conducted to a rustic gate, opening to some steps cut in the rock, and which led directly to the sea shore. The door of entrance was at the end of the cottage, sheltered by a little porch, supported by rugged pil- lars entwined by the cobeo and con- volvolus-major, whose tendrils extend- ed to the roof. Elizabeth was at a loss for words to express her admi- ration on reaching this picturesque abode, and was no less surprised than pleased, after passing through a small vestibule (where, in a nitch, stood a finely executed, but diminutive statue of Ceres) to be ushered into a spa- cious apartment, whose dimensions far ( 175 ) exceeded any she conceived the cot- tage could contain ; it extended along the whole front. Beliind it was a good sized dining room and small study. Miss Melville could find no one to attend to her rapturous expressions of admiration ; for Mrs. Valency, Ella, and Honoria, seemed to be the alter- nate prey of an enormous Newfound- land dog, who was bounding from one to the other, and springing to their very shoulders; while a fine large cat was rubbing herself against them, purring and reering up to so- licit the caresses they very liberally bestowed on their old favourite, at the risk of being upset by Neptune's bois- terous welcome. But nothing could overwhelm the garrulity of an old woman, who was giving an account of every thing that had happened since the departure of the family, and evinc- ing her joy at its return, almost as noisily as Neptune. I 4 ( 176 ) Honoria at length escaped from this combined assault ; and, impatient to visit every part of a dwelling, to which she was so much attached, she hurried Elizabeth all over the house; and, leav- ing her in the chamber allotted her, hastened to pay a ikying visit to all her pets, and then returned to the drawing-room, and eagerly assisted her sister in replacing all the little ornaments by whicli their own inge- nuity had decked tlie apartment, but which had been carefully put away during their absence. Then they sought the garden, and returned load- ed with flowers, which they arranged in various ways about the room and vestibule, and their impatience to place every thing in its usual order, soon rendered them successful. Their industry was requited by the admi- ration Elizabeth bestowed on all the new objects that caught her eyes on re-appearing. It was not the dimen- ( 177 ) sions of the room, nor the beauty of the prospect, apparent from the win- dows, that now excited her approba- tion, but the extreme comfort, and simple elegance of the interior, and the number of objects of utility as well as of amusement which every where presented themselves. Here were work tables, work boxes, and beautifnl little spinning wheels, that looked as if they had been made for the use of fairies : there was the reading stand, and every nook pre- sented a little shelf stuffed with books; for we all know that, in these enlight- ened days, books are not confined to the library or study. Opposite the window stood a telescope fixed on a pivot ; at the further end of the room was a grand piano forte, and near it stood a harp ; a tambourine, a flute, and flageolet, lay on the piano, and under it appeared the case of a I 5 4 ( 178 ) tiolin ; not that we would imply that the young ladies exercised their lungs on these wind instruments, or their arms in scraping the tiddle, though they might not have been without pre- cedents of their own sex. But our fair friends had no ambition to become pipers or fiddlers, but merely retained these instruments for the use of their male acquaintances. The flute and violin belonged to William Irby, but he always left them there for the good of the public. The chess and back- gammon board, the scrap-book, prints, and caricatures ; in short the whole contents of this cheerful repository were calculated to banish idleness, and chace ennui. Elizabeth declared she had never before beheld a scene so formed to excite comfortable sensations. The unclouded radiance of a mid-day sun threw a luminous brightness over the prospect without, and the land- ( 1T9 ) scape, bounded by the ocean, look- ed enchanting through the arch of the treillage, overshadowed by the pendant shrubs. ( 180 ) CHAPTER XIII. The best sure symptom of a mind at ease, Is rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home ! YouNG< Jlhe way of life her friends now pur- sued proved as agreeable to Eliza- beth as their society : the regular dis- tribution of time to their various avo- cations and accomplishments was persevered in with little deviation, and not a moment left to hang heavy on their hands, or admit the intrusion of dulness and discontent. In summer they never breakfasted later than eight o'clock, and the young ladies fre- quently rose two hours before, dis- liking the idea of devoting the finest ( 181 ) part of the morning to sleepy useless- ness. The daily paper always ap- peared on the breakfast table, and at the conclusion of the meal the study became the rendezvous, and silence presided for some hours, while such books as required too much attention to be read out, and such other studies and improvements, as demanded the exercise of thought and close appli- cation, were pursued ; after which the garden became the scene of relax- ation, and air and bodily activity pre- vented the ill effects of sedentary em- ployments. The cultivation oF lighter accomplishments filled up the time till half an hour before dinner, which was served at ftve o'clock ; after which the conversation flowed with all that vivacity which naturally resulted from the siibjects not being exhausted on the preceding part of the day. Mu- sic, walking, and reading aloud, di- vided the remainder of the evening, ( 182 ) and they were seldom in bed before midnight ; Mrs. Valency being of opinion, that people in general de- voted too many hours to repose, and that those who are not afflicted with any bodily sufferings, or compelled to endure any extraordinary fatigue, might do with much less sleep than they allow themselves, and thereby add to the period of their existence all those hours they would snatch from insensibihty. In the way we have thus des- cribed passed the even tenor of their days ; all their country acquaintances were at that time absent from their estates, at different watering places ; and, excepting a casual visit now and then from the clergyman of the par- ish, an elderly studious man, who always came from home with reluc- tance, they saw not a creature in the light of an associate for the space of a month. They would have regretted ( 183 ) it on Miss Melville's account, had she appeared less contented than themselves, but she agreed in all their sentiments, entered into all their feel- ings, and participated in their pur- suits. Their method of passing time had at least the charm of novelty to her; she had never been accustomed to see persons so systematically em- ploy themselves, or appear to derive so much amusement from internal re- sources. She had received that kind of education furnished by a public se- minary ; and, when she returned home, had never been taught to seek amuse- ment within herself; but, if she drew a little, played a little, and sat with a needle in her fingers, thouo'h her work might be resting on her lap, she was considered very industrious. The moment any company was an^ nounced (and her mothers house was at all hours open to visitors), eve- ry thing like occupation was laid ( 184 ) aside. Elizabeth had a mind supe- rior to the trifling pursuits she had been accustomed to ; her imagination required to be employed, her thoughts to be exercised, and therefore had her passion for Sir Francis gained such powerful ascendancy. She had had nothing to oppose to it, and it had taken the place of all those better sentiments, and reasoning faculties, that wanted a stimulus to exertion. Years and reflection had brought with them some of those advantages, which the proper cultivation of her mind would have produced long before, and enabled her at length to act with propriety and firmness ; but from the time she became intimate with Mrs. Valency's family, her struggles ceased. The sound judgment that breathed in every sentiment that met her ear, was the prop of ail her fluctuating opin* ions, and at once gave stability to those that were correct ; their ex- ( 185 ) ample coulinned the right bias of her luind, and discovered to her the path of serenity and peace, and it was no longer in the power of Sir Francis, nor any other human being, to make her permanently unhappy. >She became the pupil of Miss Valency, and her amiable tractability endeared her daily more and more to Ella, who, rejoicing in the amendment of her health, which could no longer be termed precarious, would have thought it impious to have regretted the circumstance which had made her instrumental to Eliza- beth's happiness. Honoria and Ella were discoursing on the many amiable traits they had discovered in their friend's character, and particularly commending the cheerful satisfaction she appeared to derive from their domestic pursuits, without betraying a wish for any other society. " Many girls," observed Honoria, ( 185 ) *' would say we were very good sort of humdrum people, but that it was extremely tiresome to be staying with us, when we had no other company in the house." " Yes," returned her sister, — " for example, I don't know what would tempt me to have poor dear Harriet Irby as an inmate under such circumstances. She would be sighing all day long over the pleasures of Weymouth, and talk- ing of balls, plays, and public places, , till she made us sick of the very names. By the w^ay, she insisted on writing to me, I wonder we have not heard from her." Honoria's countenance betrayed abstraction, and Ella continued " what are you thinking of Honoria? some- thing very interesting I am sure." " You have guessed right — I was thinking of Major Burlington." *' Ah, you think Jiim interesting, do you?" *' Yes, and so do you/' ( 187 ) *' I acknowledge it; he certainly appeared very amiable, as far as we could judge on so short an acquaint- ance." '' AVell, and I was thinking besides," continued Honoria, " that he and Eli- zabeth would make an excellent match ; they seem both so mild, so gentle, so conciliating." -^ Perhaps they w ould ; but I don't think similarity of disposition always promotes the greatest happiness in the married state: I am not quite sure that Major Burlington would not pre- fer your gaiety, and energy of charac- ter, to what more resembled his own : besides, you are both musical, both draw, and •" " Now tliere," interrupted llonoria, '* I must differ with ^ou, and com- pletely dissent from the general opi- nion, that ^m/Zr/W/?/ oi^ pia^suits is de- sirable in the married state. Don't you ( 188 ) recollect Mr. and Mrs. T ; they were both dovoted to music, and I have seen him worry her to play over one unfortunate bar in the way he sup- posed right, and she supposed wrong, till she has started up from the instru- ment in a passion of tears. And have you forgotten Lord and Lady L ^? they had both a literary turn, and were everlastingly disputing about the pro- nunciation of a word — or the most mo- dern manner of spelling it, was a never- failing source of discord ; and when they, submitted the efforts of their pen to each others inspection, it was often but to cavil over certain sentences, while the whole effect of the produc- tion was lost by their stopping to quarrel over some expression. Now, if Lady L had only been moder- ately learned, she wo aid have thought lier husband an oracle, and submitted to him accordingly ; and if Mr. T-^ ( m ) had been ignorant of the science' of music, he would have been perfectly satisfied with his wife's execution." '* It is very true," said Ella, " but to return to Major Burlington, I really think he appears the kind of man to make any rational woman happy, provided she had no other at- tachment ; and I rather suspect, Hono- ria, that you think the same." *^ ]\o, indeed 1" cried Honoria, with great simplicity; " at least I have ne- ver thought about him in that light, in regard to myself. I don't pretend to asseverate that 1 should refuse him if he was to make me an offer, and really was as agreeable as he appears ; then, you know, as I don't care about any body else, I should seriously set about trying to like him, and I dare say I should succeed. But I am sure I should never think of it, unless he w ere to begin first." They both laughed at this candid ( 190 ) avowal, and Ella assured her sister she was convinced the Major had nothing to answer for on her account. The next morning their breakfast was enlivened by the arrival of a letter from Miss Irby. It was addressed to Ella, who had more charity for her correspondent's insipidity than Hono- ria, and was therefore burthened with the whole weight of her friendship. The epistle was read aloud for the ge neral amusement. — LETTER. ** My dear Girl, *'It was the most mifo?^timate thing in the world that you should happen to leave Weymouth on the day which you did, for on the very next evening there was a ball you know ; and I am cer- tain you would have staid for it could you have had the least idea of tvlio would have been th€?e. Only imagine, my dear girl; I am sure you will ( 191 ) hardly believe your affectionate friend^ when she tells you, that Major Bur- lington returned to Weymouth the very day after you left it, and with him — Heavens! how shall I find words to convey an adequate idea of the fascin- ating, love inspiring, dazzling, Spen- cer Burlington ! O, my dear friend, what a name; and yet I thought no- thing of it till I saw the man ; and now I think it conveys every thing that is exquisite and delightful. You thought Major Burlington handsome — he! what would you then think of his brother! the Major is not worthy to be spoken to, looked at, or thought of, in his presence. Every lady in the room was dying to dance with him. But, my dear creature, only think of my good fortune ; I got a set with him; and, my dear, Mr. Spencer Bur- lington is so charmingly coxcomical, he would not dance with any of those who fancied themselves heauties. ( 192 ) tlioiigii I know they tried all they could to get him. But his conversation, I cannot give you any idea of it ! he is so droll, I thought I should have ex- pired with laughing at every word he said. Such a contrast to poor Major Burlington, he would not dance, and did nothing the whole evening but la- ment that your family had left Wey- mouth ; he said he had no idea you were going so soon. But Mr. Spencer Burlington has got \he iwo^i delightful carriage! and such sweet horses. Mamma told me he had them new on purpose for his marriage with a rich heiress, who resides in his neighbour- hood ; but I am sure it is not true. William does nothing'- but torment us to leave Weymouth, he says he is quite tired of it. Mr. Spencer Burlington was at the public breakfast the next morning ; but there was such an abo- minable crowd he could not get near me: pity my mortihcation, my dear ( 193 ) friend ! Alas ! it was complete when I found that he left Weymouth the en- suing da3^ "I cannot think what they come for only to remain so short a time. Be- lieve me, my dear girl, I miss you ex- ceedingly ; we were at the play last night; Mr. Spencer Burlington knew all the great people among the stran- gers here. I begin to be quite impa- tient to be with you; Mr. Spencer BurHngton is now at his estate, it is only thirty miles from us. Heaven preserve yoii, my dear friend, I long to embrace you. I dare say Miss Mel- ville can tell you all about Mr. Spen- cer Burlington. — Adieu. ** Believe me your unalterable and sincerely attached. Harriet. " Pray give my love to the amiable group. Mr. Spencer Burlington's grooms wore light blue liveries with VOL. I. K ( 194 ) silver lace. We shall leave Weynloiiih the latter end of the week.^ Yours for ever." " Indeed," said Ella, laughing as she refolded this nonsensical scrawl ; " this Mr. Spencer Burlington ought to pay the postage of this letter, for he has certainly more to do with it than any body else." ** Your unalterable and sincerely attached friend has done him very little service," observed Honoria, " for she has just said enough to incline me to take an antipathy to him. I dare say he is an empty-headed coxcomb, whom one could not venture to be com- monly civil to, for fear he should think one in love with him : and all this praise too, at the expense of our poor dear Major, whom we all like so much. I am sorry he did not reach Wey- mouth in time to see us before we set off/' ( 195 ) Miss Melville now communicated the contents of a letter she had receiv- ed from her mother, who informed her of a ball that was to take place in her neighbourhood, on a day which she named, and she added a most pressing invitation to Mrs. Valency and her daughters, to spend a week at her house, and attend the ball. The dist- ance was only two stages^ and Mrs. Melville assured them, in the name of IVTr. Grantly, that his carriage should meet them midway. When Miss Melville warmly se- conded her mother's invitation, Mrs, Valency shook her head, and said for ■her own part she would rather remain quietly at home ; but if her daughters had any wish to go to the ball, she would not disappoint them. Ella im- mediately said, she would greatly pre- fer staying at home ; but Honoria with equal candour declared she should like to go very much, provided she K 2 s ( 196 ) could do so without incurring much expense, for it must be remembered that a certain plan of economy was re- sumed with their cottage life, and that the carriage horses were only the at- tendants of their summer excursions. " But," continued Honoria, who was fertile in expedients to promote her desire, — " as Mr Grantly is so kind as to say his carriage should meet us, we have only to get so far, and I am sure our good parson will lend us his gig, which he does not use once in a month, and John can drive .Miss Melville and me over." Mrs, Valency offered no objection to this plan ; but, when Elizabeth was absent, Honoria declared, she would not stay a whole week at Mrs. Melville's, as she was sure she should be tired to death of it ; but that she would go over the day before the ball, and return the day after. Mrs. Va- lency observed, that she could not go ( 197 ) over the day before the ball, as it was to take place on a Monday, and tra- velling on Sunday was out of the ques- tion, in such a cause. It was therefore settled they should leave home on Saturday; Miss Melville was to return with Honoria. £ 3 ( 198 ) CHAPTER XIV. Moonless the sky^ the hour was late, V/hen a loud summons shook the gate. fiOKEBY, J.T was now the month of September, and they were drinking tea by candle liglit, when a double rap at the house door rather startled them, from its be^ ing quite unexpected at that hour. "Who can that be?" cried Ella; and Honoria, who wished it might be some welcome guest, and therefore feared it was not, said in rather a hope- less tone, " 1 dare say it is only some old tax- gatherer or churchwarden, come for poor rates, or taxes." ( 199 ) " It is an unusual hour for an appli- cation of that kind," observed Mrs. Valency ; all their eyes were fixed on the door, which now opened and pre- sented to their view the person of Ma- jor Burlington. A general exclamation of pleasure denoted their sensations on the occa- sion, and each was eager to extend a hand to welcome him. He had rather more colour than usual, while apolo- gizing for his intrusion ; but added, that being in the neighbourhood, he could not deny himself the gratifica- tion of calling to inquire after them. He did not explain how he came to appear at that hour, but seemed em- barrassed while endeavouring to ac- count for his visit, and readily drop- ped the subject, on Mrs. Valency's reiterating her assurance that she was extremely happy to see him. She asked after his brother : for when we have heard so much of a person, we K 4 ( 200 ) begin to fancy that we know them, and feel interested in their welfare. The Major said he had parted from liis brother only that morning, and had left hin^ engaged with a house full of friends, and that he had taken that opportunity of leaving him, in order to fulfil his design of paying his re- spects to the ladies. Here the Major betrayed that he had come over solely for that purpose ; and, having done so, his embarrassment returned, and again he endeavoured to make an ex- cuse for having waited on them, which was quite unnecessary, as there was nothing extraordinary in his seeking to renew an acquaintance he had found agreeable, and proving that he was not forgetful of the kindness he had re- ceived. The ladies were not inclined to marvel at his appearance, nor did they deem any explanation of it requisite, ( 201 ) till the Majors manner excited these ideas, and they began to think. " I wonder what induced him to come so far to see us."" Then followed — " most likely the same attraction which led him back to Weymouth, supposing that we were there." But who that attraction was centred in re- mained to be discovered, and the young ladies alternately regarded each other as the Majors loadstone. Though he had taken so much trou- ble to obtain their society, he was more reserved and silent than usual, and it was a long time before he could suc- ceed in resuming his accustomed manner. This, however, he at length accomplished, with the assistance of music and singing, and he then ap- peared more happy and animated than they had ever beheld liini ; and when at a late hour hr arose to depart, he told {hem he had secured a bed at the little inn, (where he had left his horses) ( 202 ) and should have the pleasure of seeing them again the next mornmg. Ella and Honoria laughed a good deal about the Major, after they had retired, and each endeavoured to per- suade the other, that he beheld her with peculiar complacency. Ella de- clared his whole attention had been devoted to her sister, and that he had scarcely taken any notice of her ; but Honoria assured her that his eyes had been frequently fixed on her (Ella), and that looks were more eloquent than words. At length they both agreed that Miss Melville's unobtru- sive charms had attracted a congenial spirit. They were the njore confirmed in this opinion, when they the next morning repaired to the shrubbery, and met Elizabeth and the Major, who were conversing with great ani- mation, though in a suppressed tone. They both coloured, and instantly ( 203 ) ceased speaking, as the sisters came rather suddenly upon them. Honoria bounded on towards a small cavity in the rock, where they were constructing a little grotto, and called to Ella to follow her, adding, " We have not half shells enough, let us go down to the shore and pick up some more." Ella pursued her in silence, but the Major hastened after them, and begged he might be permitted to accompany them. — Elizabeth said she would not be left behind, and they all descended to the sands together. Mrs. Valency soon joined them, and the ball became the subject of conversation, when she mentioned that Miss Melville and Honoria were going over to it. " I heard something about a ball," said the Major, " but at present, as I am no dancer, I feel no interest iii those kind of things. I shall be glad ( 204 ) to be out of the way while it is going on. Will you permit me, Mrs. Va- lency, to remain in your vicinity, till the gaiety is over, and your daughters returned?" Mrs. Valency felt surprised, and was a little embarrassed how to an- swer, while Honoria stole a comical glance at her sister, which seemed to say, " 1 do believe it is mamma, after all, that the M^jor admires most." Her mother, evading the Major's question, returned, " Ella is not going to the ball ; she will remain with me, and," *' Is not Miss Valency going ?"— in- terrupted Major Burlington, in a tone of surprise. He was answered in the negative, and the subject was drop- ped : but Honoria was still more di- verted to observe him attach himself to her mother during their walk, while the conversation that passed between them Avas unheard by any one else. ( 205 ) The next morning, just as John drove the parson's gig- up to the door, Major Burlington came in at the gate, and committed a letter for his brother to the charge of Miss Melville. ** Then decidedly the Major is not going," whispered Honoria to Ella ; ^' so positively it must be you or mam- 7nar Ella coloured and looked uneasy ; and, as her sister and Eliza- beth were driven off, she returned into tlie house with a thoughtful aspect, leaving her mother and Major Bur- lington walking before the door. The vicar's horse was lazy for want of exercise, and the young ladies began to get weary of his jog-trot before they reached L , though every time John raised the whip, Honoria cried out, ** O, don't strike him, John, he is not used to be hurried ; let him go his own pace." So at his oitm pace they reached L^ , about two hours after Mr Grantly had arrived there. 206 ) He was impatiently looking out for them, and conducted them into an inn, where a collation awaited them. When they were again upon the road, Mr Grantly said to Honoria; ** Who do you think arri\ed at last night, and came out of their road, on purpose to go to the bail — your old friends the Irby's." *' O horrible Jonathan Irby ! he will be at the ball," ejaculated Ho- noria with a look of dismay, that much amused her companions. ** I assure you," said Mr Grantly, *' horrible Jonathan Irby, will be in great request, whatever you may think of him ; for there is a great dearth of gentlemen at our country assemblies, and 1 would advise you as a friend to secure him in time for a partner; your prior acquaintance may give you a claim on him, which I would have you avail yourself of." " Don't talk of him," cried Hono- ( 207 ) ria, '* I would much rather lead oft' with a dancing bear, provided he was muzzled ; for there would be some entertainment in seeing poor Bruin sideling about, and clearing the way before him ; but Jonathan Irby can neither amuse eyes, ears, or under- standing. However, his brother will be there, and that will be some com- pensation ; for as men are to be scarce, we shall not disdain him you know Elizabeth." The first idea that struck Honoria on entering Mrs. Melville's house, was, that of self gratulation, that she was not going to remain there a whole week, and she was obliged to recol- lect she had repaired there for the purpose of attending a ball, before she could pursuade herself she was on a party of pleasure. Yet it was a good house, situated in a good street, in a good town ; but it ivas in a street, and it was in a town, and 3 ( 208 ) that in Honoria's opinion was suffici- ent to make it disagreeable, in com- parison with the light and airy plea- sures of the country. The high houses opposite gave a gloom to apart- ments, rendered still more obscure by Venetian blinds let down nearly to the bottom, in order to preserve the furniture from being injured by the light or the sun. It was handsome, and in such high order that no one would have suspected, from its ap- pearance, that it had ever been made use of. Not a sin2:le chair was out of its place, nor a single article lying about the room that could denote it was inhabited. A highly ornamented, but silent time-piece, stood on the chimney, the hand pointing to the hour of midnight, aptly correspond- ing witii a scene of solitude, silence, and gloom.' " I am not very fond of the noise of children," thought Honoria, " but 1 ( 209 ) Avould rather have half a dozen of them racing up and down the house, than endure this prim quiet duhioss." Mrs. Melville was delighted to see her daughter, and overwhelmed Ho- noria with attention ; and it was with the greatest difficulty Honoria could prevent her absolutely pouring a glass of wine down her throat, at the same time that she assured her dinner would be ready almost directly, but one glass of wine was positively required after a journey. However, Honoria de- fended herself as well as she could against the decanter and glass, armed with which Mrs. Melville pursued her all over the room, from which Ho- noria escaped, and hastened at length to change her dress before dinner. Mrs. Melville called after her to let her know she had invited a party to meet her in the evening, amongst which she would see some old friends. Honoria concluded they were the Irby's, and, ( 210 ) but for the thoughts of Jonathan, she would have been glad to meet them. The dining room presented a much more social scene than the salle-a-com- pagnie, for to that purpose she found the latter was strictly appi'opriated, us Mrs. Melville's common sitting- room was a back parlour. Had Honoria ate one quarter of what Mrs. xMelville endeavoured to force upon her plate, she probably would have died of an indigestion in that early stage of her history, and we must have drawn a veil over the closing scene of her existence, for so inelegant a catastrophe could not possibly have been expatiated on; but fortunately, she was content to satisfy a very good appetite, and nei- ther Mrs. Melville's expostulations or assurance, that she had eaten no- thing, could prevail on her to do more. She heard the names of all the ( 211 ) persons that were expected in the evening; but, with the exception of Mr. Grantly, and Mrs. Irby's family, they were strangers to her. About an hour before they were expected, Mrs. Melville proposed adjourning to the before-mentioned drawing room, which was now somewhat enlivened by being well lighted ; and here the good lady sat up to receive her com- pany. Honoria easily perceived that not a chair was to be moved from its place till the guests arrived, and she congratulated herself that it was not cold weather, as she had no doubt the same good order would have been preserved. Here they sat for more than the space of an hour with their hands before them : it was the longest Honoria had ever passed, and she gladly hailed the first knock at the door, which seemed to electrify Mrs. Melville, though so long anxiously expected. She instantly flew to the ( 212 ) bell, and the tremendous peal that followed was like a token of rejoicmg for the arrival of the guests. A meagre kind of small talk suc- ceeded the arrangement of four or five formal people round the walls of the apartment, and Honoria began to long for the appearance of the Irby's, and felt as stupid as any body present. Dulness is certainly con- tagious, as we may frequently observe a person, whom we know to be pos- sessed of superior talents, wit, and understanding, appear as if destitute of either, in the company of stupid people, whose heaviness seems to overwhelm every effort at conversa- tion, and smothers every spark of animation. It was probably thus Honoria felt, as she sat silent and re- served, and unable to recollect any thing to say well adapted to the com- pany and occasion. At length the entrance of Mrs. Irby, Harriet, and ( 213 ) William, ivithout Jonathan (who did not choose to come), gave an agreeable turn to her feelings. She thought William pleasanter than usual, while he entertained her with an account of all that had happened after he had left Weymouth, and sported off a new collection of choice quotations. But Harriet, who had made several at- tempts to speak to Honoria apart, at length got her aside ; and, with an ap- pearance of the greatest anxiety, ask- ed her if she could tell her whether the ic/tole of the party was assembled. Honoria said she believed so. " But are you quite sure ! is there nohody else expected ?" Honoria said she could not speak to a certainty, but she could easily ask Mrs. Mel- ville. " O no, not for the worlds — but I really thought — I don't know what put it in my head — but I expect- ed " ( 214 ) Harriet looked down as if intend- ing to blush, but no variation of her colour was visible; and, after a little more stammering and hesitation, she confessed that she had been led to conclude Mr. Spencer Burlington would have been there. That theme once entered upon, she pursued it with a volubility that did not even permit Honoria to sound a response. The carriages, horses, liveries, looks, features, words, manners, dress, of Mr. Spencer Burlington, were again enlarged upon in all their bearings ; and, the whole summed up, she ended wath these words ; *' I shall certainly go to church to-morrow." " To church!" echoed Honoria, with some surprise at hearing it so suddenly mentioned, after such a strange rhapsody. '' I hope we shall all go to church to-morrow." "At all events, / am resolved to go ; if it rains cats and dogs, and the ( 215 ) mud be up to my knees — to church I shall go ; I would not stay away on any account whatever." " I cannot but appland your zeal," said Honoria, " I hope we shall have a good preacher." ** O, I don't know any thing about the preacher," returned Harriet, " but I went to see the church this morning ; there are a great many monuments and those sort of things in it." *' Are they of great antiquity?" asked Honoria. *' I don't know, I am sure ; but I examined the pews very minutely, and at the upper end of the middle aisle, exactly opposite a window shaded by a green silk curtain, is a very large seat, which is Mr. Spencer Burling- ton's ; there is a brass plate on the door with his arms and the name of his place, Edenvale, marked on it. I understand he never misses attending church when he is in the neighbour- ( 216 ) hood ; nothing can be more proper in my opinion. / shall certainly go to church to-morrow." Honoria could not forbear smiling. She made her escape from the vicinity of this violent devotee, as soon as she could, without rudeness, and left her to support the penserosa mood, which she thought fit to assume for the re- mainder of the evening ; seldom ap- pearing to hear when spoken to, sigh- ing often, and looking very miserable ; while her mother told Mrs. Melville a long story, relative to the particular occasion on which she was certain Harriet had caught a severe cold, which she feared had fallen on her spirits. Of the time or circumstances alluded to, Harriet herself was quite ignorant, as that was the first she had heard of them. ( 217 ) CHAPTER XV. These are the day-dreams which wild fancy weaves. DRYDEN. .I\xrs. Miss Melville, and Honoria, ^veiit early to church ; but had not long' been seated, when Mrs. Irby, her daughter, and younger son, en- tered the same pew. Miss Irby's private prayer was unusually short ; and, before she could seat herself, wliich she did next to Honoria, she exclaimed in great perturbation, but in a whisper — " O, good gracious ! he is there already, I declare." The vehemence of her exclamation VOL. r. L ( 218 ) extorted an interrogation from Ho- noria. " Why, don't you see," said Harriet, directing' her eyes towards the person she alluded to — " have you no eyes, Honoria ?" Eyes Honoria had, and they had not been useless to her, for they had )by chance been cast on the objeot Harriet now pointed out, but in Avhom she had discerned nothing to excite particular observation. Harriet t3on- tinued '* Look, look, Honoria, don't you perceive? that is Mr. Spencer Burlington," *' That Mr. Spencer Burlington !'' said Honoria, in unfeigned amaze- ment ; but she checked herself, recol- lecting the purpose for which she had repaired to the holy place she was then in, and she blamed herself for admitting any ideas foreign to the du- ties she was about to perform. But ghe really had been unable, at first, ( 219 ) to suppress a demonstration of aston- ishment, on being' told, that the per- son whom she had been looking at, scarcely knowing what her eyes were fixed on, and who on regarding a se- cond time appeared to her actually plain, and even of an unpleasant as- pect, w^as the very man whom she had lieek led to believe a model of mascu- lini^ beauty, and whom she had figured to herself, as at least possessed of a striking person. Honoria was better occupied than in observing whether Harriet was, or was not, particularly attentive to her devotions; but as soon as the whole was concluded, Harriet rose precipi- t ately, and fixed her eyes on Mr. Bur- lington's seat. That gentleman did not seem at all aware of the notice which he attracted, but as soon as the congregation began to disperse, he left his pew ; and, without casting his ^yes to the right or left, went out of the L 2 { 220 ) church by a small side door, not far from where he sat. Harriet could not conceal her vexa- tion; the cause of which Honoriawas not av»are of, till she looked round, and observed that Mr. Burlington had disappeared. She could not help laughing at the resentment Harriet betrayed, when in answer to her in- terrogations of what she thought of the gentleman in question, she frankly confessed, that in her eyes he had no pretensions to personal beauty. All the way home Hairiet did nothing but reproach her, for having expressed what no asseverations of Honoria'&i could persuade her she really thought. In a letter, which Honoria addressed to her sister on her return from church, she wrote thus of Major Burlington's brother. '^ 1 have seen this fascinating, love- inspiring, irresistible Spencer Burling- ton ! and am more than ever provoked at the absurdity and folly of my own ( 221 ) sex, which can pay such adulation to a man, who has really, after all the en- comiums we have heard passed on him, nothing whatever in his person to re- commend him. I never was so disap- pointed in any body's appearance in my life; he cannot bear a comparison with onr interesting* Major, who we were led to suppose so inferior to him. Figure to yourself a countenance of an unhealthy hue, undistinguished by any prominent feature, and which might pass without exciting a remark, but for a certain contraction of the lines that gives a repulsive cast to the whole expression, and confirms an opinion, in which we might otherwise hesitate, that, but iov charity, he might be pronounced absolutely ugly. O wealth and disdnction ! what magic do ye possess, wnen ye can bestow on your favo riles every charm req isite to re omniend t em to the generality of mankind !" L 3 ( 222 ) CHAPTER XVI. But every feature had the power To aid the expession of the hour ; Whether gay wit, and humour sly, Danced laughing in his light blue eye. Or soft and saddened glances shew, The ready sympathy with woe ; Or in that wayward mood of mind. When various feelings are combined ; When joy and sorrow mingle near, And hope's bright wings are check'd by fear ; And rising doubts keep transport down. And anger lends a short-lived frown: In that strange mood which maids approve. E'en when they voukl have prevented the audience from rewarding her efforts by a thun- der of applause, when Jonathan Irby set up a loud hiss. The poor young woman was over- whelmed with confusion ; and, trem- bling in every limb, she with difficulty sustained herself. Honoria felt little less, but to have implored Jonathan to desist would only have excited him to persevere. She cast a glance to- wards Mr. Burlington ; distress and extreme anxiety wer6 pictured on his countenance, and he bent a look of vexation and surprise on their box ; and, as the hissing continued, he sud-^ denly started up, crying '' bravo, bravo," as he clapped his hands vehe- mently, when a peal from the whole house soon overwhelmed the indivi- dual disapprobation; and, repeated VOL, I. N ( 266 ) again and again, revived the young actress, and enabled her to go through the remainder of her part witli aug- mented vigour. Honoria could now breath again ; but as she recalled the look Mr. Bur- lington had cast on their party, and thought of the sensation it indicated, slie w^as ready to cry with vexation, at having appeared in public in company with a man, who riot only exposed himself, but seemed to render his whole party obnoxious ; and she men- tally vowed that no inducement should ever again tempt her to visit a theatre with horrible Jonathan Irby, '' Mr. Burlington cannot speak to us," thought she, *' even if he were to quit his party ; he would be ashamed to acknowledge us, and I doubt not is extremely offended that the piece which he bespoke should be so rudely interrupted." The unpardonable disturber made ( 267 ) a last efibrt to be heard in vain, when his folly evaporated in a silly laugh ; and, composing himself against a pillar, lie soon was, or pretended to be asleep. Honoria became impatient for the termination of the play, when she hoped iier friends would be persuaded to retire without waiting for the after- piece; but, scarcely had the drop- scene fallen, when she perceived a movement in the opposite box, which was quitted by Mr. Burlington. She now forgot all about going home, and w as soon after sensible that their party was augmented by the bustle behind her ; but she did not look round, till she heard some one say in a half whisper, *' How d'ye do, Mrs. Mel- ville, I think those seats are intended to hold fonrr Mrs. Melville immediately made room ; Mr. Burlington stepped oyer, and Honoria found him seated besi- ter. Ella did not seem so anxious as usual to receive a particular account of every thing that had occurred in Honoria's absence, or in her turn to impart a similar communication. The Admiral was expected the next day, to spend a few weeks previous to his ( 291 ) gotiig to town, where he always pass ed the winter : not the Londoji winter, viz. May, June, and July; but, the old- fashioned, hoary, gloomy season of De- cember, January, and February, that our forefathers thought the fittest pe- riod in which to seek warmth, com- fort, and society in the precincts of a crowded city. Honoria found her sister inclined to rally her about Mr. Burlington, and her misrepresentation of his personal appearance, but she soon silenced her, and secured her attention, by repeat- ing what he had said respecting his brother, their expedition to Wey- mouth, &c. Ella immediately became serious, and when Honoria openly spoke of the Major's predilection, Ella grew agitated, and at length burst into tears, and accused her sister of cruelty in talking to her on such a subject, when she knew how much she had lately suffered in weaning her o 2 ( 292 ) heart from the object of its first affec- tions. Honoria was astonished : it was the first time she had ever heard Ella allude in such pathetic terms to her attachment to Sir Francis, and though at the very period of her re- signation of him, she had looked vexed and unhappy, Honoria had never seen her shed a tear ; nor appear at all af- fected at any subsequent mention of him till the present occasion. She affectionately apologized for what she had said, and less versed in the know- ledge of the heart than her mother, she really began to apprehend that poor Ellas attachment to Sir Francis would cast a lasting shade over her happiness, and induce her to persevere in leading a single life. ( 293 ) CHAPTER XX. On ne sut en Taiment ce qu'on cherit le plus De son ame ou de son genie : Par ses noble talents il irrita Tenvie, Et la soumit par ses vertus. — X o avoid prolixity, or dwelling upon symptoms, the issue of which may be easily foreseen, we will pass over three months, and see by the aspect of the scene at the end of that period, what grounds Honoria had for her appre- hensions, toucliing her sister's happi- ness. That sister was again on the eve of marriage ! so much for Major Burlington's quiet mode of attack, though it must be allowed that he found a strong auxiliary in the Admi- o 3 ( 294 ) ral, who espoused his cause with great warmth, and m ho was not without a hope that there might be a double union of the families; for Mr. Spencer Burlington spent moi^e of his time in the vicinity of the cottage, than he did at Edenvale. He had purchased a piece of land near the borders of the ocean, and within half a mile of Mrs. Valency's, where he was erecting a small villa, which he called hismarino, and his attention to that object af- forded a continual excuse for his be- ing in the neighbourhood. He seemed charmed with the prospect of his bro- ther's nuptials, and by his manner it might naturally have been inferred that he too would willingly have been a bridegroom ; for though he sometimes checked himself, he oftener particu- larized Honoria by a sort of spontane- ous assiduity, which seemed to spring so genuinely from the heart, as to defy controul, and betrayed the evidence ( 295 ) of an attachment, which however had not as yet explained itself in words. Honoria had often seen men, whom she thought she could have loved, had it not been for a certain something she was sure to discover in them before she had been three times in their com- pany. What it was she was seldom very eloquent in explaining, but she had now passed the greater part of three months in the society of Spencer Burlington, without being able to find out any thing to disapprove of in him ; on the contrary, he was continually betraying some amiable and exalted trait of character, which daily en- deared him more and more to her, nor could she resist loving him with all the fervour of a mind enthusiastic- ally alive to perfection. Ella had for some time withstood her prepossession in favour of the Ma- jor, which even in its earliest stage had more of genuine love in it thaa o 4 { '296 ) tlie most lively sentiment Sir Francis had ever been able to excite in her heart; and which, from never having felt more at tliat period, she had mis- taken for what it only slightly resem- bled. Her intimacy with Major Bur- lington was not many weeks old, when she felt, that had duty, or adverse circumstances, called on her to resign him, her feelings would have widely differed from those which had enabled her so heroically to give up Sir Fran- cis. Ella was induced to consent to the marriage taking place earlier than she could have wished, by the Major's pathetic representation of the misery he should endure if compelled to re- join his regiment in Portugal before he could call her his own ; and it was uncertain how long he could with pro- priety remain absent from his military duty, as his health, though it was the ostensible, was no longer the virtual ( 297 ) plea for his continuing at home. The troops were at that period resting in- active in their winter cantonment, and the Major felt perfectly justified in permitting himself some indulgence after the severe sufferings he had en- dured in his last campaign. Miss Melville, who had been at home for some weeks, was to return to the cottage to be present at the approaching joyful occasion. Poor Harriet Irby had never recovered the effects of the ball; her mother had contrived to get her home, but she had continued so much indisposed that it was apprehended her lungs were affected, audit was just decided that she should be taken by easy journeys to Clifton. Her brothers were to fol- low, for they were unwilling to lose the festivities that were to take place at the cottage on the marriage of Miss Valency, which were to be blended o 5 ( . 298 ) with tho^ of the jovial Christmas season. How merry were the faces, how full of glee the hearts, that surrounded Mrs. Valency's table on Christmas day ? the spirit of ancient hospitality seemed to have taken shelter in her cottage, and chastened revelry sup- ported her old companion, while " laughter holding both her sides" devoted ,the reunion. No distortion was now seen in the Admiral's fea- tures, all was cheerful serenity: even Jonathan Irby looked content, and allowed that the dinner was well cooked, neither did he ask for any thing that did not happen to be there. Spencer Burlington was the very spirit of glee, his amiability had long since dissolved all William Irby's pre- judices against him, and they were now most particular friends. Wil- liam's passion for Honoria having by a sort of natural retrosrradation, re- ( ^99 ) ceded in proportion as he perceived Spencer rapidly gaining on her affec- tions, so by degrees his slender hopes entirely died away, and he generally attached himself to Miss Melville, to which he was led, in the first instance, because neither of the other young ladies would attend to him; but he soon found that in Elizabeth w^hich could claim regard for her own sake. The day after Christmas day Ma- jor Burlington w^as made happy in the possession of his lovely bride, with whom he immediately set off for Eden- vale, Avhere every thing was prepared to receive them as the master and mis- tress of the mansion, in the absence of the real master, who paid them every possible compliment save that of at- tending them. He insisted on Eden- vale being their home till they should have one of their own, which he per- suaded his brother not to think of while he remained in the army. Mrs. ( 300 ) Valency concluded that Mr. Burling- ton was erecting the marino to present to his brother, till she found by his conversation that • he mtended occu- pying it himself, and talked of spend- ing great part of his time there. The suggestion that followed was very na- tural, and such as to make her rejoice in the intimacy of Spencer Burlington with her family, which she had at times been inclined to regret, from an apprehension that he might have no serious intentions, while her daughter's peace was becoming endangered. But the footing his brother was on ren- dered it difficult to make a distinction between them, while Spencer's man- ners and behaviour made it an impos- sibility. Spencer had no acquamtances, for every one who knew him became his friend. On the plea of inspecting the erection of his marino, he had re- tained a lodging in a farm-house ad ( 301 ) jacent, and regularly every morning- bent his steps to the cottage. The Admiral was still there, and always gave him a flattering welcome. There was an endearing familiarity in Spen- cer's address that could not be re- sisted ; Mrs. Valency really felt for him the affection of a mother, and often blamed herself for the indul- gence of her demeanour towards him, which, nevertheless, she could not re- dress. As to Honoria, she tried (but certainly very unsuccessfully) to con- ceal the joy she always experienced at sight of him, the delight his so- ciety afforded her, and the sudden evaporation of her spirits the moment he disappeared ; when she would sigh deeply, feel miserable, and return without zest to her customary em- ployments, and pursue them with weariness and distaste. Spencer would have been more than human, could he have resisted ( 302 ) presuming a little on his influence at the cottage ; he would come in of a morning, and seeing them all em- ployed, would exclaim, as he scattered their work about to clear a place for himself near Honoria — " O, what a delightful litter ! you all look so comfortable; books, work, drawing, such a deal to do ; not a single space left for ennui to creep in at." Honoria could have told him that omui only waited for his place, and the moment he departed was sure to pop in and keep as close to her as he himself did. But though Spencer expressed such admiration of their industry, he never was content till he had at least contrived to make Hono- ria lay aside her occupation, and devote all her attention to him. She must either read a play with him, sing a duet, or they must all walk with him to his marino. The young 1, 303 ) ladies must accept each an arm, while the Admiral trudged forward with Mrs. Valency. Sometimes Honoria declined, for she had now her moments of serious uneasiness inseparable from so lively an attachment. Why did not Spencer explain himself fully ? why was not his language as unequivocal as his looks and manners. These ideas prompted her at times to make an effort to avoid his attentions, tut she was sure to repent of it. Spencer never offered her his arm tivice ; but when she refused it, he looked as if she had done him an irreparable inju- ry. His countenance lost all its ani- mation, and he became totally silent, except when interrogated; when, though he would answer with that obliging good humour which never forsook, him, it was in the low voice of dejection, and with an undisguised aspect of mortification. So violent a contrast to his habitual manner was ( 304 ) sure to be apparent to every one, and Honoria was glad to make a hill or rough place hi the road an excuse for availing herself of his support, un- solicited, and restoring his smiles. Thus it was, his dominion over her daily gained strength ; for shecouldnot bear to see him look unhappy, or to deprive herself of the charms of his animating conversation. He was con- tinually requesting her opinion in the constructions of his marino, and was sure to abide by her decision, while he was always anticipating the period of its completion. He was the sup- porter and life of all the parties and /e/e^ given at the season : nothing could go forward without Mr. Spencer Burling- ton, while few hesitated to assert that he was speedily to be united to Ho- noria. ( 305 ) CHAPTER XXI. Silent he loved : in every gaze Was passion — friendsliip in his phrase. SCOTT. OUCH was the posture of affairs, when Burlington one morning appeared at the cottage with a blank aspect, and informed its inhabitants that he had just received a letter from his most particular friend, Lord Brookland, whom they had often heard him men- tion, and who was then at Bath in the deepest affliction. From what cause Spencer did not explain, but said his lordship had written to im- plore him to come to him ; and he could not hesitate a moment in com- ( 306 > plying with his request, and affording him all the consolation friendship could bestow. Burlington seemed much dejected, and his gloom soon communicated itself to all present. The Admiral's countenance began to Contract, and his features appeared to be catching in each other as he tried to restrain the slight convulsion that agitated them, more and more in proportion as the idea gained upon his mind, that Mr. Burlington was going off without any explanation, and was leaving them quite in the dark as to his future intentions ; he mentioned no fixed period for his return ; it was possible he might meet with some gay heiress at Bath that would put Ho- noria out of his head, and she might never hear more of him in the light of a lover. The Admiral became abso- lutely dumb, there was no possibility of extorting an answer from him : he either did not hear, or affected to be ( 307 ) deaf to whatever was addressed to him ; while, haviiio; taken up a book (his old resource) he hinig moodily over it, and looked as if he was mak- ing faces at its contents. Mrs. Valency felt very uncomfort- able; not that her mind could har- bour a suspicion injurious to Mr. Burlington, of whom she entertained the highest opinion, and believed him to be devoted to Honoria, and that his reasons for not being more explicit would ultimately be explained ; but she felt unhappy on account of Ho- noria's present feelings, and the anx- iety she must necessarily endure in his absence. She had never question- ed her as to the state of her heart, for that was quite superfluous ; and they had both, with one accord, avoided the subject. Honoria was now making a vigo- rous effort to appear perfectly com-^ posed and cheerful, but no one se- ( 308 ) conded her attempt. Burlington was silent and abstracted, and looked sur- prised and hurt when she affected to laugh, as if he wondered she should feel so different to what he did. He had ordered his horses to be brought to the cottage in half an hour, when he intended proceeding to Edenvale to sleep that night, and continue his journey to Bath the next day. Ho- noria was busied in collecting some pamphlets, books, and music, of Mr. Burlington's ; when he approached, and she asked him if his servant would be able to take them ? " O, let them remain here till I re- turn," said he; " why are you in such a hurry to get rid of every vestige of me?" Till I return! how sweet to the ears of Honoria! She evaded the question that followed, and he re- sumed : " Only let it remain here, and I ( 309 ) will come and fetch it myself: mean- time it will make you think of me sometimes ; but you will not be glad to see me again, you care so little about my going, that I am half in- clined to think you are indifferent whether I ever come back ; I should wish my marino at the bottom of the sea if I thought you would not make me welcome when I return." *' You do not think anv such thing:," said Honoria, " so 1 need not trouble myself to make professions on the oc- casion." '* Then you will be glad to see me, and you wjll not receive me with coldness and reserve, and look as if you had forgotten who I was, or ap- pear as indifferent as you did just now when I talked of my departure?" " O, 1 shall m.ake no promises; but I rather think you do not entertain apprehensions of any great magnitude on that head." ( 310 ) " If I did I should be the most miserable man in existence," said Bur- lington with serious energy: at that moment his horses were announced, and having insisted, as the privilege of relationship, on a parting salute from each of the ladies ; and caught Honoria to his heart, with a fervent " God bless you !" he hastened away, and was swiftly borne from their pur- suing eyes. Honoria was the first to return into the house ; she felt a suffocating sen- sation in her throat as she re-entered the room she had quitted with Bur- lington : there were the books, the music, the pamphlets, but where was their owner? She burst into tears, and ran up to her chamber to conceal a weakness she was ashamed of, but could not controul. The next day the Admiral set off for London, and as he had not spoken above ten words since Mr. Burlington ( 311 ) had announced his departure, his ab- sence did not much increase the gloom which now pervaded the scene. Miss Melville had returned home a few days before, and Mrs. Valency and Honoria were left to entertain each other. It was now that they felt the loss of Ella's society, nor was Honoria so capable of supplying this deficiency to her mother as she would once have been ; for she could not recover her spirits, nor conceal the uneasiness of her mind. Had Spencer been more explicit, she could have borne his absence with comparative ease; but she now felt as if she had every thing to fear, and slight foundation for hope. He had not said that he would write, yet she thought it probable he would commence a correspondence with her mother, and eagerly watched each post ; but all they heard of him was through Ella, who mentioned in her o ( 312 ) letters that he had written to his bro- ther from Bath, and had spoken most affectionately of them all, and regret- ted that the calls of friendship must, for a time, alienate him from their happy and beloved circle. Ella added a pressing invitation to her mother and sister, to spend a short time with her at Edenvale. The contents of this letter proved very gratifying to them both, but Mrs. Valency felt reluctant to take Honoria to Edenvale, lest Mr. Burlington should return unexpectedly while they were there, when it would look too much like throwing her in his way. The nature of her scruples she acknowledged in her answer to Ella. Honoria could now again walk to the marino, and watch its progress with pleasure : for the last few days she had not visited it, for she had felt an- gry with Spencer, and would not do any thing she thought would be gra- ( 313 ) tifying to him; but now she concluded that he would not be absent long, and therefore thought it superfluous to write to her mother, knowing he should hear of them through Ella. Honoria was not quite satisfied with thus accounting for it, but she was glad to find an excuse for him. A short time only elapsed before they again heard from Ella. She assured them Spencer would not return from Bath for some time, as he could not possibly leave his friend. Lord Brook- land, who was in the deepest afflic- tion on account of his wife, who was in a dying state. Ella again impor- tuned her mother to visit her, she had never before been separated from her and Honoria ; she was anxious that they should partake of the pleasure she enjoyed in her sumptuous resi- dence, and desirous that they should contemplate her happiness. Mrs. Valency no longer demurred ; VOL. I. p ( 314 ) ■ she was certain she might venture to spend a week or ten claj s at Edenvale, without riuming any risk of being surprised by Mr. Burlington ; it was accordingly determined they should go, and they set off the next morning ; Honoria in high spirits, both at the thoughts of seeing her sister, and of visiting an abode where, in her eyes, every object would possess a peculiar interest. ( 315 ) CHAPTER XXir. The soul too soft its ills to bear. Had left our mortal iieuiisphere ; And sought in better world the meed To blameless life by Heaven decreed. ROKEBY. X HEY reached Edenvale before day- light had disappeared; and Honoria was almost out of breath with utter- ing exclamations of admiration before the carriage stopped. No sooner had the first joy of re-union with her sis- ter subsided, than her eyes wandered round the magnificent apartment, then rested on the elegant decorations, while .she gave due credit to the taste which had selected them. Nothing P 2 ( 316 ) could l3e more satisfactory to Mrs. Valency than to Avitness the happiness which Ella seemed to have secured by her union with Major Burlington. He was a most doting husband, nor w^as she less ardently attached to him ; their mutual study was to promote each others gratification, and they seemed to derive their own from the consciousness. of bestowing it. Ella felt perfectly happy in the small circle that now surrounded her, and only wished, for Honoria's sake, that Spencer had been present. Before breakfast the next morning Honoria wandered through several of the chief apartments, not being able to restrain her curiosity till her sister could accompany her, which she had promised to do. She found herself at length in an extensive library, the walls entirely lined with books; and in the middle stood an enormous table, crowded with chemical appa- ( 317 ) ratus, mathematical instruments, &c. From thence she passed into a lesser room, more conspicuous for comfort than magnificence, and apparently in- tended for a boudoir or study ; here were several glass cases full of natu- ral curiosities, forming quite a little museum. Within this was a large, light airy chamber and dressing-room, not much differing from the others she had seen; nor could she perceive any thing to challenge her particular at- tention, except a diminutive print, which she espied pinned to the pa- per, just over the dressing-table, and which had evidently been cut out of a pocket-book. On examining it she found it to be a view of their cottage, which, from its picturesque appear- ance, had often been taken as an orna- ment for literary repositories. Ho- noria felt not the least inclination to purloin it ; but, on the contrary, was perfectly satisfied that it should re- P 3 ( 318 ) jnain v/here it was. She now hurried down to breakfast, and, finding that she was late, confessed what had been her employment, and asked to whose use the chamber was appro- priated where she had seen the little picture of the cottage. The Major cast a sly glance at her as he said, " Now, Honoria, you know that ques- tion is superfluous ; why could not you have candidly observed, ' I sup- pose that is Spencer's room !' " " I am sure I should not have said Spencer! I might perhaps as well have said, *I suppose that is Mr. Burlington's apartment !' " " Well, my demure Miss Fru- dentia," continued the Major, " who after all have betrayed that you have been visiting a young gentleman's chamber : for your satisfaction or dis- satisfaction, that is Mr. Burlington's apartment, which with those adjoin- ing are appropriated to his particular ( 319 ) use; it is very extraordinary, that of all places in the house you should happen to have got there !" ** Don't be ridiculous," cried Ho- noria, colouring deeply, and conti- nued to her sister, " Indeed, Ella, I think you use your brother-in-lavvr very ill, in suffering him to retain that little shabby view of the cottage ; you might as well have taken a drawing from it, and presented it to him." ** I am very glad you thought of it," said Ella, ** for that will be a charm- ing employauent for you while you are here, and keep you out of mis- chief, and from wandering into such strange places." Konoria carried off her embarrass- ment with a laugh, but said she would have nothing to do with the drawing, unless Ella would take the credit of it. *' Indeed, I shall not tell any stories about- it," said Ella, p 4 ( 320 ) *' Well, then, I will draw it for you^ returned Honoria, *' and you rnay do what you like with it." After breakfast they set off on a walk through the grounds, but had scarcely emerged from the house when Honoria observed a beautiful horse gallopping towards them from a dist- ant part of the park. He made di- rectly for the spot where they stood, kicking up, and plunging forward, to Honoria's great terror ; and she took refuge behind the Major, with some exclamations of alarm, as the animal pranced round and round them. *' Don't be frightened," cried Ella, *' Rinaldo is the gentlest creature in the world, he is only delighted to see us; I had quite forgotten him — I ge- nerally bring him a piece of bread*" The Major ran back for it, while Ella patted the elegant animal, who had suddenly become perfectly tame. Mrs. Valency expressed some appre- ( 321 ) heiision at seeing her so familiar with him ; when Ella informed her that this fine creature had been made quite a pet of by Spencer, who had bred him up on purpose for a charger for his brother, to whom he had presented him on the day he had spent at Eden- vale on his way to Bath. Every fine day, even in winter, Rinaldo was led out of his stable, and permitted the indulgence of ranging the park. Spencer had taught him to expect a piece of bread whenever he appeared, and often attracted him to the parlour windows to seek it. The Major and Ella had, by tlie same means, con- trived to make acquaintance with Ri- naldo. Honoria now ventured to stroke his forehead; but as soon as he perceived the Major approaching with a roll in each hand, he began neighing and trotting round him, but took the bread so g'ently,.that not one of the ladies were afraid to feed him. p 5 ( 322 ) *' You will not be surprised at his being so tractable, when I tell you that Spencer has taught him all these pretty ways, and many funny tricks besides, which he would make him display if he were here." *' O beautiful, wise Rinaldo !'' eja- culated Honoria, as she continued stroking him.. " Aye, poor Rinaldo," said the Ma- jor, patting his neck with some vehe- mence, " your old master will not like to see you going off to be shot at." " O! do not talk of it," cried Ella, piteously, as she clung faster to her husband's arm, as if she feared to lose him that moment ; nor could she for some time recover the impression of what would be his peril when Rinaldo should be exposed. Her mother and sister sympathized in her feelings ; and, had they encouraged the sensa- tion that affected them, they would ( 323 ) have wept as they gazed on Rinaldo, now again flying over the park. ** While the little party pursue their walk we will stand quietly admiring Rinaldo, as we have no inclination just now to traverse the oft trod mazes of the picturesque, or dwell on the exhausted theme of Chinese bridges, gothic temples, modern ruins, or hermitages embowered in imper- vious shade." Honoria did not return in time to begin her drawing that day ; but the next morning she set about it, after having been laughed at unmercifully for very seriously requesting the Ma- jor would get the little print for her out of his brother's room, as if scru- pulous about revisiting the chamber. Mrs. and Miss Melville, and Mr. Grantly, were frequent visitors at Edenvale, as well as many other per- sons, whom it is unnecessary to par- ticularize* A week soon passed over; ( 324 ) the drawing was finished, on an en- larged scale, and put in the place of the little picture ; and Honoria had become extremely familiar with Ri- naldo, to whom she failed not to pay her compliments every day, while she secretly regretted that Spencer had parted with Irini, though from so ami- able a motive ; but he had been long his favourite, and therefore must be her s. She was charmed with that neigh- bourhood; for there was not a cottage she could look into that did not re- sound the praises of Mr. Burlington, and she delighted to hear the theme expatiated on. He had now been ab- sent a month. He had not written very lately to his brother; but his last letter had informed them, that Lady Brookland was at length released from her sufferings. He had not spoken of his return, nor indeed touched on any subject but the me- lancholy event he announced; and his ( 325 X frieuds did not think it at all probable he would leave Lord Brookland at such a time. Honoria was standing at the win- dow on the morning previous to that fixed on for her departure from Eden- vale, when she perceived a man gal- lopping across the park towards the house. She pointed him out to the Major, who, as the horseman drew nearer, exclaimed with some surprise, not unmixed with alarm, " He looks very like Sterling, my brother's man it certainly is him." ** I am sure it is," cried Honoria, who was no stranger to the valet's person ; and she waited in much agi- tation while the Major went to meet and question the domestic. ^' I hope Mr. Burlington is not on his return," said Mrs. Valency, with apprehension; " I should be sorry he were to arrive while we were inmates of his house." ( 526 ) cc Why should you be sorry?" said Ella ; *' as we do not expect him he cannot impute your visit to any thing flattering to him ; and I am sure he will be delighted to see you, he has s6 often expressed a wish that you conld be prevailed on to visit Edenvale." Honoria could hardly tell whether she hoped or feared most, that Mr. Burlington might be approaching. All doubts on the subject were ter- minated, when the Major re-entered, saying, " My brother is within a few miles of us ; he sent on Sterling to apprize us he should be here in less than an hour." " How unfortunate !" cried Mrs. Valency, with a look of vexation. ** Unfortunate! my dear madam," echoed the Major, whose joyous as- pect denoted his sensations ; ** unfor- tunate ! surely you mean to omit the first syllable ! He will be overjoyed ( 327 ) to find you here. Hoiioria," be con- tinued, approaching her, and playfully stroking her cheek, " where do you buy your rouge? it is of the finest tint I ever saw. Ella-must get some at the same place." '' I did before I was married," cried Ella; " Messrs. Burlington sup- ply the best rouge in the kingdom." This speech immediately attracted the Major to Ella's side, from whence he was never long absent; and, hav- ing whispered something which proved that Ella had not quite left oflT the Burlington rouge, he resumed his at- tack on Honoria, observing, — " Look, how serious Honoria is trying to appear ! we must not make her angry, Ella, for I expect she will very shortly turn you and me out of Edenvale, without any ceremony; so we must keep her in good humour for our own sakes." ** I rather think the first person I ( 328 ) turn out will be myself," said Ho- noria. *' And I can answer for it," return- ed the Major, " that that will be the last person you are allowed to turn out when the master of the mansion appears ; to whom, you know, we must all submit." Honoria was glad to escape to her chamber ; for she dreaded being' pre- sent at the moment of Spencer's arri- val, as she knew he would not expect to see them, as the Major had not written to him since her mother and self had arrived at Edenvale ; but, while inactively watching the lapse of each minute, it appeared insupport- ably tedious ; and she repaired to the library, and endeavoured to dissipate her thoughts by turning them on some of the many objects ^yhich there pre- sented themselves calculated to com- mand attention. She encountered the Major in her way there ; and he again ( 329 ) provoked her, by telling her not to be impatient, for that the hour had not yet elapsed. But a few minutes now terminated her suspence ; the sound of a carriage drew her to the window, from whence, unperceived, she beheld Spencer descend from his travelling chaise, and affectionately embrace his brother and Ella, who were on the steps to receive him. They entered the house together, and Honoria caught up a book and sat down close to the fire, and appeared to be study- ing very intently ; for, as the Major knew where she was, she doubted not he would conduct his brother to her; and soon she heard their voices, as they approached along the gallery. As he laid his hand on the lock the Major said, " I don't think you look well Spen- cer ; but T will give you a panacea for all your complaints." He threw open the door, and Hq- ( 330 ) iioria, with a throbbing heart, arose to welcome Burlington, who, she con- cluded, was prepared to see her; but she instantly perceived that the Major had resolved to surprise him : and that he ivas siuyrised, indeed ! Mr. Burlington's aspect sufficiently de- noted — but certainly not agreeably f ( 331 ) CHAPTER XXIII. What spectre can the charnel send> So dreadful as an injured friend? ^V? E have already observed, that unexpectedly to appear before a per- son was an excellent, way of ascer- tainmg their feelings towards one. The utmost effort of self-delusion could not have persuaded Honoria on the present occasion, that Mr. Burlington was glad to see her. He started back real ^}^ aghast, turned extremely pale, nor could in any degree command his countenance ; but rapidly recollecting himself, he hurried forward with ex- tended hand, declared he was delight- -ed to see her, and that nothing could have made him happier than her ho- ( 332 ) nouring Edenvale with her presence. While he spoke, his colour returned to excess, and he thanked his brother for the charming surprise he had con- trived for him. The Major, who for a moment had felt extremely dis- tressed, now really believed that amazement had at first convulsed his brother's features, and that he was in truth as delighted as he now pro- fessed to be. Honoria shook hands with Mr. Burlington, and reseated herself in silence ; for she was actually deprived of the power of speech, so shocked w^as she, so distressed, so disappoint- ed ! Ella was scarcely less hurt, and sorely repented that she had per- suaded her mother to come to Eden- vale. She felt perfectly convinced, that Mr. Burlington's dismay had been real, and his subsequent joy mere acting. He addressed some words to her, but she affected not to ( 333 ) heiar him; for she could not answer him with common civility, while con- templating the disorder apparent in her sister's looks. She immediately afforded her an excuse for retiring, by telling- her, she believed her mother wanted her. Honoria instantly left the room, and a dead silence ensued. The Major was thinking he would never again plan another agreeable surprise ; Ella was trying to command her feelings, in order to express what she wished to say with composure; and Mr. Bur- lington remained standing with his back to the tire, his countenance de- noting strong uneasiness, while he ra- pidly turned over the leaves of a book he had caught up from the table. Ella at length said, with some trepi- dation, and a heightened complexion, "■ I am sorry you did not let us know that you were coming home, as my mother and sister were only induced ( 334 ) to comply with my repeated en- treaties, that they would come and see me, on my assurance, that you in- tended remaining absent for some time ; and " Ella hesitated, at a loss how to qualify what she had said, when Spencer returned with a look of extreme mortification : " I was so misjudging- as to ima- gine I should always be welcome, and that therefore it was unnecessary to apprize you of my intention." " Welcome r repeated Ella, " cer- tainly welcome; you could not be otherwise to your own house ; but it is the business of those who are in it, to take care that nobody is intro- duced there whom you may not be inclined to make welcome.'' *' My dear Mrs. Burlington ! my dear sister !" cried Spencer, approach- ing her ; " how you mistake my feel- ings ! no persons on earth could be half so welcome to my roof as your . ( 335 ) mother and sister. Have I not re- peatedly and urgently solicited them to visit Edenvale ? and nothing could make me so happy as to receiye and entertain tliem : how you misinterpret my manner ?" The Major, who had been looking extremely uneasy while this dialogue had been passing, now said affection- ately, taking Ella's hand, '' My dear- est Ella, you wrong my brother, in- deed you do ; I know his heart to its foundation, and can answer for it you do him injustice." Ella could with difficulty restrain her tears; she bit her lip, but dare not speak, and the entrance of her mother proved some relief to her; for it was impossible any one could re- ceive a more flattering welcome, than that which Spencer now gave Mrs. Valency. He saluted her with the affection of a son, with which his whole manner towards her corre- ( 336 ) sponded. It was evident, by her de- meanor, that she had not seen Hono- ria, or was led to expect any other reception than that she met. Ella, therefore, strove to conceal that any thing unpleasant had occurred, and endeavoured to get the better of the resentful sensation she harboured to- wards Spencer ; but she addressed him as seldom as possible. Meantime the fruits of Honoria's agony in her chamber, for in effect it amounted to little less, was a resolu- tion to exert the utmost powers of self-command to conceal her acute anguish, her deep humiliation. To have been met by Mr. Burlington any w here in the manner he had received her on that day, would have hurt her to the soul ; but in his oivn house, whither he might imagine she had re- paired purposely to ihrow herself in his way, to be encountered there with the cold blank looks of displeased C 337 ) amazement. Oh ! it was so galling, no possible mortification could have exceeded it. " He looked frightful r thought Honoria, *' just as he did the first time I beheld him at church ; and, after all, I doubt not the opinion I was then inclined to fi3rm of him was the most just; but his egregious va- nity shall not be gratified by perceiv- ing my folly. Mamma will go to- morrow, and to-day, if / die for it, I will appem^ unconcerned." The strong degree of anger that at present sup- ported her spirit, enabled her to ac- complish her design, and Ella was surprised, but very glad to observe her re-enter with a cheerful air ; and though she knew it to be counterfeit, tliat was not equally apparent to others. Honoria could perceive, by her mother's aspect, that she had no reason to complain of Mr. Burling- ton's reception of her, as she behaved VOL. I. Q ( 338 5 to him the same as ever, and was very solicitous about his health, which she thought appeared to have suf- fered. He acknowledged, that he had not been well, and said, he felt a great oppression on his spirits, and believed Bath had not agreed with him. Certainly his spirits appeared very much affected, for his utmost ex- ertions could not enable him to sup- port the strain of gaiety (nor indeed any thing resembling it) with which he had been wont so delightfully to animate society, and the contrast was doubly conspicuous in him. Honoria was not called upon to repel his assi- duities, for he attempted not to offer them ; he was kind and attentive to every body else, and endeavoured to be so to her ; but it was evident that he wished to avoid any particularity, and that his manner towards her was constrained, guarded, and distressing even to himself. How often did Ho^ ( SS9 ) noria recal what he had said at their last interview, previous to his depart- ure : " The?i y&u icill be glad to see me, and you will not receive tne ivith coldness and reserve, and look as if you had not forgotten who I wasT " Oh ! how descriptive," thought Honoria, *' of his own manner, on this occasion !" The Major, in order to give a turn to the scene, proposed paying a visit to Rinaldo, and that Spencer should make him shew off for the amusement of the ladies. His brother offered no objection, for he was glad of any thing to relieve him from the burden of con- versation. They all descended to the park, and Rinaldo was brought out. There would have been difficulty in determining whether the horse, or the rider, was displayed to the greatest advantage in the exhibition that fol- lowed ; for the elegance, grace, and activity of each, were equally con^ Q 2 ( 340 ) spicuous. Rinaldo seemed prond of his burthen, and one might have fan- cied the fine creature exerted his full powers in honour of the occasion. " He does not look frightful now," - — thought Honoria, as Spencer gal- loped up to them, after displaying all Rinaldo's accomplishments — " he cer- tainly does not look frightful now. I wish he always did." He was with- out a hat ; the exercise had given a rich glow to his complexion, and his fine teeth were conspicuous as he pro- nounced a smiling eulogium on Ri- naldo. A pang darted through Ho- norias breast, severer than any she had ever before experienced. She re- turned abruptly into the house, and the business of the toilet furnished an excuse for absenting herself till dinner-time. They were all assem- bled in the dining-room — when she entered, and only waiting for her to seat themselves. The Major sat at ( 341 ) the foot of the table, as Spencei* would not permit him to resign that place to him, alledging, that he must be considered as a visitor on that day ; but it was evident he w ished to avoid the ceremonies that must de- volve on him as master of the house. Honoria sat on one side of her sister, who was at the head of the table, and Spencer placed himself next Mrs. Valency on the other side. Ella was well aware of what her sister's feelings must be, and did all in her power to prevent any other per- son discovering them ; her whole attention was devoted to her mother and sister; and though, in general, remarkable for the propriety and ele- gance with which she presided at table, she on that day betrayed much negligence, and never asked Mr. Burlington what he would take, till the Major said, *' Ella, you do not perceive that my Q 3 ( 342 ) brother's plate is still empty — :he will take some soup." " I beg his pardon, I did not know he wished for any," returned Ella, appearing to recollect herself. The Major looked more mortified than his brother, w ho appeared more wretch- ed than angry, and replied, in a low, dejected, but affectionate tone, to all that was addressed to him. It was impossible Mrs. Valency could be longer blind to the unpleasant aspect of the scene. She had particularly inquired of Ella how Spencer had met Honoria; but Ella, fearing to distress her mother by an accurate description of his manner, merely said, " Not quite so rapturously as she had expected." Mrs. Valency, therefore imputed the behaviour of her daughter to that circumstance, which she thought them wrong so obviously to resent, and blamed Ella for treating Mr. Burlington so disre- ( 343 ) spectfiilly. Mrs. Valency had so high an opinion of him, that she could not believe that his actions were the result of any thing but honour, sense, and judgment. She concluded his demeanour, on that occasion, was entirely provoked by Honoria's man- ner. She had observed that she af- fected inattention, when he was en- deavouring to amuse them with Ri- naldo ; and she suspected that she had been exercising the power of tor- menting on Spencer, in revenge for some fancied coldness in his reception of her. As he had received Mrs. Valency in so flattering a manner, it was natural she should draw an in- ference to his advantage; but her greatest dread was, that some do- mestic contention between Ella and her husband might be excited by the conduct of the former towards Mr. Burlington. She never ceased re- gretting that she h^d been persuaded Q 4 ( 344 ) to come to Edenvale, but she was re- solved to depart on the morrow, and in the mean time to do all in her power to conciliate all parties. She could not bear to see Spencer look so miserable, and unable to eat, and kindly asked him to take a glass of wine with her. He assented with so much alacrity, and looked so grate- ful, that Mrs. Valency was affected to an unpleasant degree, and the Ma- jor cast a half-reproachful glance on Ella, who immediately said to Spen- cer, " Will you allow me to join you?" He only thanked her with his eyes, and nothing he could have said would have been half so eloquent. The Major took wine with Honoria, and the pain it seemed to cost her to smile, was felt in his tender heart, and left it inclined to censure, while it was still devoted to his brother. ( 345 ) CHAPTER XXIV. Yes, yes, I could have lov'd as one. Who, while his youth's enchantments fall. Finds something dear to rest upon Which pays him for the loss of all. T. MOORE. JhiLLA sat a very short time after the cloth was withdrawn, and soon re- tired with her mother and sister, when Honoria requested she would let her have the carriage, tliat she might go and drink tea with Mrs. Melville. Ella, sensible of her mo- tive, entirely approved of it, and im- mediately rang the bell to order the carriage. Mrs. Valency also thought it better she should go. It was a fine Q 5 ( 346 ) moonlight night, and she was soon on the road. When left alone with Ella, her mother begged her to explain the motive of her resentful carriage to- wards Mr. Burlington ; \\hen Ella, in self-defence, stated the case simply as it stood. She declared that Mr. Burlington's aspe(:;t, on unexpectedly beholding Honoria was unequivocal ; that her sister had done nothing which could warrant a cessation of those at- tentions he had been wont so openly to pay her, or, even if she had, his disposition was not one that would ponder on a grievance, or resent it, without demanding an explanation ; in short, Ella thought his conduct unjustifiable, and that of a mere male coquette — a sort of animal she had sufficiently proved her aversion to, by her conduct towards Sir Francis Heathcote. Mrs. Valency's alarm was now excited : Mr. Burlington might not be free from the prevailing folly ( 347 of his sex ; and finding her daughter in his house, he might imagine she was to be forced upon him whether he would or not, according to the alledged modern style of promoting matrimo- nial alliances. Certainly such a con- clusion was not consistent with a strong understanding; but very wise people have their vulnerable points, and that might be Mr. Burlington's ! His person, fortune, and connexions might lead him to conceive himself an object of pursuit to the other sex; nay, probably experience had proved it. But still, influenced by her pre- judice in his favour, Mrs. Valency was inclined to think his conduct would yet be satisfactorily accounted for, and prove to be connected with the dejection he appeared to labour under ; but she determined to leave his house before breakfast the next morning. Ella said she should not oppose her going, but, as she could ( 348 ) not submit to being so hastily de- prived of her society, she should very shortly pay a visit at the cottage. The Major was no sooner alone with his brother, than, relying on the entire confidence that had always ex- isted between them, he entreated him to impart the source of his obvious unhappiness, and the alteration in his behaviour towards Honoria (for from the manner in which Spencer had al- ways spoken of Honoria, his brother had supposed him violently enamour- ed of her, and that he intended offer- ing her his hand). Mr. Burlington's tone did not at all assimilate with the Major's on this occasion : the can- dour that used to distinguish him had vanished : he spoke lightly on a sub- ject to which his brother attached so much importance, and said he was not aware of any great alteration in his manner ; that Miss Valency her- self was more reserved than usual ; ( 349 ) til at his spirits were much affected by the scene he had lately witnessed at the death of Lady Brookland, and the affliction of his lordship, who had accompanied the body to the family vault, on which occasion he (Spencer) had taken leave of his friend. " Miss Valency r mentally repeat- ed the Major; "never before did I hear him call her any thing but Ho- noria" — and he was to rejoin his friend ! Reverting to Avhat he had said, the Major observed, *' Did you not say you left Lord Brookland on his setting out with the remains of his wife? how was that? It is a fort- night since you informed me of her death." " Yes," returned Spencer, " but I continued at Bath sometime after his departure." The Major was more and more perplexed. He saw plainly that his brother would not be unreserved ; ( 350 ) there was some mystery which he did not choose to unravel, and the Ma- jor was inclined to suspect that he had met with some object who had rivalled Honoriain his affections ; and he felt as angry with him as it was in his nature to feel with a being so beloved. He particularly regretted having encouraged Honoria's predi- lection for his brother, by rallying her on the subject, and always treat- ing it as if certain of the issue. No- thing like conversation could be sup- ported between the brothers, when confidence was so completely ba- nished ; they felt on a very different footing to what they had ever been before, and sat silently gazing on the fire ; nor did Spencer second his bro- ther's proposal of adjourning to the drawing-room till they were informed tea was ready. He took rather more wine than usual, and ascended to the drawing- ( 351 ) room prepared to do away the un- favourable impression his late con- duct was calculated to excite. The wine had exhilarated him for the mo- ment, for he had taken glass after glass without knowing what he was about ; and, though it had not the power to confuse his senses, it en- abled him to enter the room with something like his natural air. A^ the Major took his accustomed place next Ella, he observed, that he had expected to find company, as he had heard a carriage. Ella said it was the chariot, which had taken Honoria to drink tea at Mrs. Mel- ville's. " Was she previously engaged ?" asked the Major. " No," returned Ella ; " but, as mamma will go to-morrow, Honoria wished to take leave of Elizabeth." " Honoria o-owe.'" exclaimed Spen- cer, too much off his guard to con- ( 352 ) trol his feelings. " Honoria left Edenvale ! and Mrs. Valency going- home to-morrow !" Ella was sur- prised, and said the carriage was to fetch Honoria at ten o'clock. ** But surely you will not go to-morrow !" continued Spencer, sitting down be- side Mrs. Valency ; " how unkind to go just as I am returned — I did not think Mrs. Valency would have used me so." " I never intended remaining longer," she replied, '* and you must excuse my not altering my original intention." He said much more to induce her to stay, and seemed extremely vexed when she continued inexorable ; when he left her side, and paced up and down the further end of the apart- ment in visible disorder. He de- clined taking any tea, and it w^as scarcely removed, when he asked if it was not tiuic the carriage should go? The Major rang the bell, though ( 353 ) he knew it was early ; but at that moment a footman entered with a note for Mrs. Burlington. It w^as from her sister, to inform her she should sleep at Mrs. Melville's, and to request her mother would call and take her up as she passed through in the morning. She added an af- fectionate farewell to Ella and the Major. Ella repeated the purport of the note, when Spencer, who had been watching her countenance, while she read, exclaimed, " Then she will return no more to Edenvale, and " He did not conclude his speech, but again tra- versed the apartment in great agi- tation. " But let the carriage go," said the Major, " perhaps it may induce her to return." *' You may send it if you please, but I am sure she will not come," re- plied Ella; and Spencer cried with ( 354 ) Tehemence, ** Well, well, but let it go ?" He sooii after retired, and they saw no more of him that night. The carriage was sent, but returned empty, with merely a verbal mes- sage, corresponding with the purport of the note. ( 355 ) CHAPTER XXV, In Ihe viciasitudes of life we fmcl, Strange turns and twiaiiigs in the human mind ; And he who'seeks consistency of plan, Is little vers'd in the great ways of man ; Tiie wider still the sphere in which we live, Tiie more our calls to suffer and forgive, CUMBERLAND. JlJ,onoria's anxiety to get from Eden- vale, where, every moment that she remained, augmented her humiliation, induced her to resolve on going to to Mrs. Melville's ; and she quitted the abode she had repaired to with so mcuh satisfaction, with a deter- mination of not returnina: to it. She ( 356 ) was in a miserable state to endure indifferent society, but any thing was preferable to that she had quitted under her present circumstances. She was glad to find Mrs. Melville was from home. Elizabeth received her with pecuHar satisfaction from not ex- pecting her. Honoria did not mention Mr Bur- lington's arrival, and had not long been seated, when she complained of indisposition, which accounted for the disorder of her looks, and her unusual manner. Elizabeth immediately pro- posed that she should sleep at their house, and Honoria offered no objec- tion, on conditions that the servant should take a note to Edenvale to ap- prize her friends of her intention. Tea over, and the note dispatched, Honoria would gladly have retired to the chamber allotted her, but it was not quite ready for her reception, and she requested Elizabeth to read aloud, ( 357 ) M hich afforded her an excuse for avoid- ing conversation. She was thus at liberty to give her thoughts 'wing, but they flew no further than Edeuvale. She felt satisfied with herself for the spirited manner in which she had acted, and thought it could not fail of mak- ing some impression on Mr. Burling- ton, who at least would feel mortified at her leaving his house with so little ceremony, and so evidently on account of his return to it. But as she con-, tinned to reflect on it, she found she could derive little satisfaction from that source, and her resentment seemed to have exhausted itself in the effort, while her sense of wretchedness became every moment more acute. Spencer had looked miserable ! Ought she not rather to have sought an opportunity to request as a friend, an explanation of his altered manner, and have ascertained whether it arose ( 358 ) from any misunderstaiiding in which she was concerned ? " Bntno," thought Honoria/' though as a friend I might have demanded that explanation with composure, yet, feeling as I did, it would have been impossible : nor would I hazard the humiliation which must inevitably fol- low, should his conduct be merely the result of vanity and caprice ; O, could I but be assured of that, I would speedily disengage my heart from the dominion of an object disguised by such insufferable foibjes." She suddenly recollected the playful manner in which he had accused her of thinking him a coxcomb, and the vivacity with which he had denied the charge ; and again he appeared before her in his most fascinating form. She heaved a sigh so profound as to startle Elizabeth, who instantly ceased reading', and cast on her a look of g ( 359 ) the deepest concern. At that moment a single knock at the street door, di- verted her attention, and soon after a servant entered, saying, a person requested to speak to Miss Valency immediately. Honoria followed to another apart- ment, expecting to find her own wo- man, who might suppose she was wanted, and had perhaps some mes- sage to deliver to her. As she en- tered the room her hand was seized, and she was drawn forward as the door was thrown too, with violence, but by whom she could only guess, for there was no light but what pro- ceeded from one dim candle, left on a distant table," " Honoria ! why have you left Eden- vale," were the w^ords addressed to her in the voice of Spencer Burling- ton ; he repeated, " Why have you left my house in this contemptuous, disdainful, insulting manner." She ( 360 ) could scarcely support herself, and her throbbing heart felt ready to burst. Surprise was overwhelmed by terror at the vehemence of his manner, and a dread of betraying- the emotion he excited, and of faultering in the strict line of propriety on this trying occa- sion. She had often seen him vexed, but had never before beheld him irri- tated, and his present demeanor was quite out of character with his natural disposition, which was sensitive, but not irascible. Yet it would have been more gratifying to Honoria to have seen him in a paroxysm of fury, than that he should have suffered her con- duct to pass without resenting it. Still she considered that this might only be the effects of mortified vanity, and not of wounded affection. She was too much agitated to command her voice, and he continued ; " Was it too great an indulgence to remain one night under the same roof with me!" ( 361 ) Honoria now forced herself to speak as she endeavoured to extricate her hand from his grasp, and said with warmth, " I cannot acknowledge any right you can have, so imperiously to demand an account of my actions, when your own conduct is so incon- sistent and unreasonable ! I must, therefore, beg leave to do as I think proper, or as may be most agreeable to me, without being expected to give any explanation of my motives." " You shall not do as you please ;" he passionately exclaimed, catching both her hands, and drawing her to- wards the door ; " You shall return with me to Eden vale, the carriage is come, and I will reconduct you." " Mr. Burlington ! are you mad ? release me instantly, I insist upon it, surely you must be out of your senses." Her angry manner seemed to bring him to his recollection ; he sufiiered VOL. I. R ( 362 ) her to escape, and threw himself into a chair, as he pressed his hands on his temples, repeating to himself — '' Mad ! out of my senses ! no won- der if I was." It would have been barbarity to have left him at that moment ; Hono- ria could not ; his extreme disorder terrified and distressed her on his own account ; and, though she retired to a distance from him, her eyes remained riveted on his agitated form. He con- tinued silent for some moments, when the impetuosity of his manner seemed to have subsided, and he spoke and acted more like himself. He arose, and again approached Honoria, she did not shun him ; for the perturba- tion of his looks was now tempered by a degree ot solemnity. He sunk on one knee as he held her hand to his burning forehead, and implored her forgiveness, for all that she might deem censurable in his conduct. He continued : ( 363 ) ** Think me mad, or out of my senses : perhaps I am ; but, when in future you may be inclined to blame me, remember that I am the most wretched being in existence ! that I think you the most admirable of wo- men, and am ten-fold more miserable, from the consciousness that all which I suffer originates in myself: I will not urge you to return to Edenvale ; no, it is more proper you should not ; God bless you, Honoria," he added, gasping for breath, and fervently presing her hand to his lips, he start- ed from his knee, and precipitately left the apartment. The noise of the carriage driving off aroused Honoria from momentary stupefaction, and she hastened to the chamber, then ready for her reception; and, having secured the door to pre- vent intrusion, she for a time resigned herself to the feelings that overwhelm- ed her. They were such as could not R 2 ( 364 ) fail to attend the conviction, that how- ever unintelligible Mr. Burlington's conduct might be in other respects, it was fully apparent he had no further intention of seeking her favour. He had talked of the future as being pro- ductive only of misery to him, and as likely to render him blameable in her eyes : he said it was more proper she should not return to Edenvale, and that all his unhappiness originated in himself; from which altogether Ho- noria could only infer, that he had some other entanglement. Yet, why had not that influenced his conduct before he had l.een at Bath? The space of one short month, nay, a much shorter period, seemed to have wrought this extraordinary change ; as even in his letters to his brother he had spoken of her the same as ever, and it even now appeared as if his attachment to her still existed; or why that agitation, which he had on ( 365 ) that night betrayed ; why had he ex- pressed his admiration of her, and why had he been so violently affected at parting? But to think that he still loved her and was miserable, softened her feelings to the most pitiable de- gree ; and she rather tried to persuade herself that his whole conduct was the result of vanity, for in that sup- position she found fuel for resentment, which was the best corrective she could at that moment oppose to the weakness which oppressed her. She went to bed in order to avoid seeing Miss Melville, who repaired to her chamber door; but, on finding that she had retired, she did not persecute her with importunities. The servant had informed Eliza- beth that it was Mr. Burlington who had come with such a gentle knock, and desired to speak with Miss Va- lency, with a caution that she might R 3 ( 366 ) not be told it was him ; and from what she could infer, Elizabeth was not at a loss in concluding that something unpleasant had happened. END OF VOL, I. Dove, Printer, St. John's Square.